Recent Discovery

I'm not really sure if any one else is plagued by the problem of the smelly sponge. It's really a quite unfortunate reality - my entire house can be clean and YET that smell persists. I get a whiff of it every time I walk by the kitchen sink. So yesterday, after walking into the house and getting that smell, I decided to suspend my studies and research how to get rid of that invidious smell working through my week old sponge. According to my google findings, you can actually microwave your damp sponge for 30 seconds and - poof - the smell is gone. If you add a little lemon juice, all the better.

So, there you go. No theological implications to this one. But I'll keep thinking about it and get back to you. Maybe something about the sponge's renewal as a form of baptismal.... no. terrible idea. Alright, back to real life. This time without a smelly sponge.

An Insomniac's Prayer

So it has become official. I'm a sporadic insomniac, which I realize means that I have serious issues to process through. That being said, when I do have trouble sleeping at 4am, I tend to surf the internet. Last night / this morning, I came across a video of the reality of starvation in Zimbabwe. As many of you know, I have several friends living in Zimbabwe right now, one of whom may be the most selfless and courageous man that I've ever met. So the situation has become all the more real to me.

Please watch the video. And, if you aren't already, please start praying for these people. They need a miracle. We, as one family in Christ, need a miracle.

"Wait for the Lord. Be strong, take heart, and wait for the Lord." - Ps. 27:14

where are you, God?

Bad news from a friend whose heart is broken, who has never felt heartache like she does now, the reality of the worsening situation in Zimbabwe and being unable to get a hold of Robert or Tabani, the last several days I've been acutely aware of the fragility of life and the way in which we truly have been created out of nothingness. In light of the injustice and the pain, I can't help but confront God, perhaps a bit too boldly, with the question, "Where are you, God? Where are you when 80 percent of the people in Zim are living below the poverty line and when corruption may cause 5 million people to die of starvation? Where are you when young boys are being kidnapped from their families and forced to kill? Where are you?"

I've been asking this question of God for several days. And, as I woke up this morning, God responded. It wasn't an answer of overwhelming force, but a gentle and persistent presence that said, "I'm right here." And I knew that I was wrong. My question was undergirded by an implicit answer. "Where are you, God?," I asked. My answer - "Not here." But God reminded me today that, yes, we are creatures, created out of nothingness and, thus, absolutely unstable. Yes, to look out into the chaos is terrifying. But we were never meant to look out into that nothingness alone and, though we often times don't realize it, God is standing with us as we peer into the nothingness. God keeps us from falling back into the nothingness from which we came.

The chaos of life is absolutely real. But God's constant presence is also real. Where is God when the child is dying of starvation? God is there. God is with the child. God is holding her. God is crying.

Looking Back

This past summer in Cape Town could very well be one of the most formative experiences of my life. It was in South Africa that I stepped out of my privileged, American context and entered into another people’s reality, a reality alien to my own. As I said in a previous reflection, those who were not my people became my people. Those who were once strangers became my brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers. Consequently, it was difficult to leave, difficult to say goodbye to a people who so willingly adopted me into their family.

But in many ways this time away from the academic world was important, maybe even necessary to confirm my call to teach. For some time I've been wrestling with the question of faithfulness - is it more faithful to live in the township than in the ivory town?

Before leaving for S. Africa I was quite convinced that the most important and influential ministry was that of holy presence, of holding the hand of the hurting in the midst of their pain. And I was troubled by the reality that people whom I respected, people who had dedicated a large part of their lives to live with the marginalized of society, found it acceptable to leave the inner-city context later in their life. This troubled me because it seemed that if something was right, truly right, then it would continue to be right regardless of one’s stage in life or particular situation. Yet, in this respect, I believe I was mistaken.

While holding the hand of the hurting remains, in my mind, a necessary aspect of the Christian embodiment of the gospel, I now recognize the scriptural truth that some are to sow and some are to reap; some are to live in the townships of South Africa and some are to teach those who will one day live in those townships. We all have different parts to play within the body of Christ. As for me, my heart’s desire is to instill within others a passion for those who are all too often overlooked and pushed aside by society at large, those who are deemed worthy of being used and thrown away, those who find themselves at the bottom of society’s frantic climb to the top.

This conclusion in no way exempts me from experiencing the tension between my desire to be with the world’s disenfranchised and my draw toward a life in academia. The draw of these two realms will, in all likelihood, be constant throughout my life. Yet, perhaps, this is how it should be, for the tension ensures that I never forget the people on behalf of whom I have been charged to speak. The tension ensures that I continue to engage the world. What is the purpose of studying and teaching theology if it has no impact upon the Church? What is the purpose of doctorate degrees and academic achievement if it makes no difference in the lives of God’s people? Surely, it is all vanity if not for the greater purpose of God’s Kingdom.

Looking back on my nine weeks in South Africa, I’m left with a mixture of emotions - sadness at leaving such a wounded yet beautifully hopeful people, excitement as I look toward the unfolding of the life into which God has called me, and thankfulness that our God, who parted seas and provided manna to God’s people, continues to prove present and faithful today.

Looking Back

I just arrived home after a twenty-something hour long plane flight from cape town to Joburg to Atlanta to Dallas. Here are a few photos to enjoy while I recuperate.

My Family (Home Away from Home)

Greg & I on Table Mt.

Zimbabwean Friends at the Refugee Center


My Kiddos (the Youth I worked with in Cape Town)

blessed are the peacemakers

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. – Matthew 5:9

“Put your sword back in its place.” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.” – Matthew 26.52-53, 56

Ever since arriving in Cape Town and getting to know the Zimbabweans living in the church hall in Obz, I’ve been trying to do what I can to keep up with the recent news about Mugabe and the situation in Zim. Thinking about the horrors that have been committed and about Desmond Tutu’s declaration that it is time for the international community to do something about Mugabe, I can’t help but feel conflicted. I can’t help but question my non-violent idealism. What decision would I make if I could use violence to take this ‘president’ or his hatchet men out of power? Would I choose to follow Niebuhr? Bonhoeffer? or Gandhi? Would I act like Peter who is all too quick to draw his sword? Or is this situation different because there is no scripture to be fulfilled, because I am called to defend the orphan and the widow?

I am undoubtedly called to the role of a peacemaker. We all are. But does peacemaking preclude force for the sake of the suffering? Is the price of setting a violent precedent too great? I’m unsure about the most faithful action. In my idealism, I want to believe that by confronting violence with overwhelming love and (in Sam Well’s terms) over-acceptance, by acting as Gandhi did, we might usher in the alternative kingdom and break the cycle of violence. Yet when I sit with my friends and hear their stories, I can’t help but doubt the truth of these convictions. Is this enough? What if nothing changes? Am I not responsible for these deaths? Am I not responsible for simply standing by?

I sense this tension especially as I sit here in South Africa or in North Carolina and not in Zimbabwe. If the answer is non-violent resistance, then I must be the one to go. I must be willing to give my life, not merely espouse a grand theory, expecting others to follow through with action. Yet, I wonder, am I willing to go? And, if not, is this option false and hollow?

What is faithfulness? What is it that Christ is calling us to do in the face of utter disregard for human life? The world cannot stand by and watch. Now is the time for action. Now is the time. But what action are we to take?

I struggle to gain clarity. I am afraid to act and afraid not to. God, grant us the grace to know the right and holy way to face this situation. And forgive us, Lord, for our fumbling ways. We know not what we do. Amen.

Finding Our Way

I arrived back in Cape Town three days ago from a short trip to Durban to find my friends at the refugee center were leaving the following morning. I was completely blindsided by this news. I had assumed that the last part of my time in South Africa would be similar to the first. Apparently, SHADE felt it best to ask the 30 remaining refugees who were still living in the church hall to reintegrate / repatriate.

This is difficult for me. Not only because I feel that some were not yet ready to reintegrate, but also - and perhaps more overwhelmingly - because I will miss them... deeply. They have been the heart and soul of my experience here. Though I encountered some challenges in the midst of these relationships, I also found great joy when I was with them. I met God in their hope, in their laughter, in the way they accepted and encouraged me.

My experience in South Africa wouldn't have been the least bit as rich without them. And so for the gift of these relationships, I am eternally grateful.

From here on out, I'll be working on SHADE's normal programing, which includes a camp for at risk youth, putting together training material for the satellite projects, and SHADE's 10 year magazine.

Time continues to fly by. And I know that I'll be back in the States far too soon. South Africa has been a beautiful experience thus far and I am incredibly grateful for all of your encouragement and support. You all have truly blessed me by enabling me to be here, to experience God in this way.

I love you all,
- jess


p.s. This is a piece of newspaper propaganda from The Herald - the only newspaper allowed to be in Zimbabwe at the moment. The other newspaper was bombed five times and finally closed down. It's interesting to read the way that Mugabe and his men are spinning the situation. Thought you might enjoy to take a look.

ALSO PHOTOS!!!!
I got the chance to see Mbeki speak / Meet and have breakfast with Desmond Tutu the other day! Ridiculous. I know.