Despite all of our struggles, there is a reason I keep going back to The Crossing each week. This is a community where I have come to a more profound understanding of sacramentality. It is a community where I have begun to learn how service and leadership in ministry can be an offering, an act of worship, in and of itself. It is a community I contribute to, but what I receive is always far greater than what I give. This is a community where I have found support and accountability, where I have found belonging. It is a community that allows me to ask the ‘big questions,’ and that has promised to walk with me along the journey. It is a community where I have found mentors, and where I have become a mentor for others. This is a community that not only accepts, but demands that I bring my whole self to the communion table. This is a community where justice matters, where radical welcome is not just a feel-good ministry or a marketing strategy. This is a community where church is “a way of life, a way of connectedness with other Christ followers in the world.”[1] This is a community where I have found hope—hope that God matters and hope that we matter to God. And although this is a community that is still ‘emerging,’ vulnerability and humility make transformation possible. This is a community where the Spirit is alive. This is a community that has saved my soul.

---

[1] Gibbs, Emerging Churches, 115.

surrendering to surprise

Here's a sermon Jason wrote for the final assignment of a two week preaching course he just finished up on the hill at the lovely Andover-Newton...

Sermon: Surrendering to Surprise

Text: Mark 6:30-44

Life is full of surprises isn’t it?

Last month my fiancé surprised me for my birthday…Now she had been planning this for weeks- doing research, making phone calls and reservations. When the day finally arrived, everything was in order; in fact, all I had to do was leave the house with the clothes on my back. But I was still in the dark. I kept asking her questions, trying to plan things out. “What do I need?” “Where are we going?” “When should I be ready?” But she refused to tell me anything…When she came over to pick me up, her call was simple- “Come and follow me.” Of course, I would have nothing of it. I wanted to be prepared; she just wanted me to trust. I can still hear her calling, “It’s a surprise!”

Life is full of surprises. Surprises of all shapes, sizes, and significance, good and bad, big and small, exciting and disappointing. Surprises that bring us joy and surprises that cause us fear…And we often feel like we need to protect ourselves against those surprises, we need to lay out the plans and ‘get ready,’ so that we can achieve our goals…And that’s okay. ..But perhaps, there’s also a time to embrace the surprises, to let go of our need to plan and to have it all figured out.

We can’t control everything that happens to us.

We are constantly surprising ourselves, sometimes exceeding our expectations and other times failing to fulfill them. We are surprised by the grades we get, the jobs we find, and the people we meet. We are surprised by our minds and we are surprised by our bodies- as they limit us in ways we didn’t expect, and they amaze us when we overcome our limitations and defy the odds.

We are continually surprised by others. An old friend calls to catch up, a colleague unexpectedly affirms our work, a stranger holds the door…our brother forgets our birthday, we catch our supervisor cheating, our neighbor drives past us in the rain…The people in our lives continue to surprise us- sometimes in the ways they inspire us with their generosity and their grace and sometimes in the way they disappoint us with their arrogance and ignorance.

And sometimes…we’re just surprised by the randomness of life- by the ‘fickle finger of fate.’ We’re working on a paper or a job report, sending an email or writing a blog when all of a sudden, our computer crashes…Sometimes the railing collapses, and sometimes we can’t get up and walk away…

We make plans but life doesn’t always work out the way we expected.

Sometimes our plane is delayed and sometimes we’re upgraded to first class. The stranger on the subway becomes a close friend and our college roommate becomes a stranger. Sometimes our surprises bridge us and other times they break us.

*****

So what do we do in the face of surprise?

The world tells us to protect ourselves, to guard against the ambiguity, to limit the uncertainty. Our society constantly tells us to look ahead, to plan for the future, to try to live rationally and to ‘figure everything out.’ Happiness comes from resources, resources come from upward mobility, and upward mobility is a result of planning. And as soon as we think we’ve arrived, we must begin planning for ‘the next big thing,’ the next school, the next job, the next child.

Just the other day my brother was telling me that he is a ‘plans guy.’ He says he likes to make plans, he likes to figure out what he’s doing next weekend, next month, even next summer. And then he looks forward to those events, in anticipation, and with expectation. But he also consciously told me that when his life doesn’t go exactly as planned, he is disappointed.

As I reflect on what my brother was saying, it seems that life can become an endless process of making plans and looking ahead with expectations, that maybe our expectations set us up for disappointment. Because other people disappoint us, we disappoint ourselves, and if nothing else, sometimes, life is simply unpredictable and doesn’t always go as we planned.

So then what’s the alternative? Throwing our sails to the wind and saying ‘whatever happens, happens’? ‘Flying by the seat of our pants’ and simply ‘enjoying the ride’?

The Hebrew Scriptures tells us that there is a time for everything- “a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot” (Ecc. 3:1-8)…

So there must be a time to plan. And I don’t want to suggest that because life can be unpredictable and because we are bound to be disappointed, that we shouldn’t have dreams, goals, or hopes. Still I can’t help but wonder if we’ve become so focused on the destination that we’ve lost sight of the joy in the journey.

I can’t help but wonder if Jesus intended something more for us when he said, “I have come so that they might have life and life to the full.” When I look at the Scriptures, I can’t help but wonder if God invites us to a life of surrendering to surprise…

When I look at the Scriptures, I see a God of Mystery, a God who invites us to a life of surrendering control and allowing ourselves to be surprised. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, we continue to see a God who uses people in surprising ways, in ways they didn’t expect and didn’t plan…

And in the New Testament, Jesus is all about surprise,…His birth was a surprise to the world. His entire ministry was about surprising people- who he spent time with, who he gave allegiance to, what he valued. In the ways he overturned power structures, in the ways that he loved and lived, Jesus was constantly surprising both tax collectors and religious elites. In his parables, Jesus was surprising and shaking up social and moral norms of the day. He was surprising his skeptics, he was surprising his disciples, maybe he even surprised himself. And through it all, at the center of Jesus’ message, it seems there is an invitation.

An invitation to give up the sense of control, to give up the myth that we can make life knowable.

An invitation to give up the ‘plans’ and ‘expectations.’

An invitation to trust.

An invitation to surrender to surprise….

But what does this look like, what does this feel like? When Jesus feeds the five thousand, we get a picture of the disciples constantly trying to plan ahead, to ‘be responsible,’ and to do what ‘makes sense.’ Jesus is pushing them to think beyond the logical, beyond the responsible, beyond plans and expectations. We see Jesus pushing the disciples to accept the uncertainty, to be okay with not-knowing, and ultimately, to trust.

The disciples are concerned with time, money, logistics. But Jesus is concerned only with trust. The disciples want to make plans, so that they can ‘get ready’ and ‘be prepared.’ But Jesus is focused on working with them as they are and with what they have. The disciples are concerned with allocating, but Jesus is concerned with giving…

And then…something happens. They allow themselves to be present in the moment and to accept themselves as they are. They begin to trust that Jesus might know something they don’t, that they are a part of something bigger than themselves- something they don’t fully understand. When they begin to trust,…Jesus SURPRISES them.

I can help but wonder if discipleship is most centrally about trust and surrender,

about not having to ‘figure everything out,’

about refusing to be bound by plans and expectations,

about giving God control,

about allowing ourselves to be surprised…

*****

Life is full of surprises and it seems that we have a choice. We can spend our lives preparing, making plans, and waiting in expectation for the destination…Or, we can begin to imagine what it might look like if we stopped expecting and started dwelling. Started dwelling in the present moment, in the place where we find ourselves today.

This is a place full of potential, risk, and disappointment. It’s a place where we don’t have all the right answers, a place where we can’t control everything. It’s a place where sometimes, we get it wrong…and sometimes, we get hurt. But in this place, we are not alone.

Imagine what it might look like, what it might feel like, to start to accept the ambiguity and tolerate the uncertainty.

Imagine what kind of a community we would become if we stopped thinking we don’t have enough time, money, knowledge…if we started to trust, if we started to surrender, if we started to believe that God wants to work with us as we are and with what we have.

Imagine what kind of a church we might become if we shifted our focus from achieving to receiving.

Imagine what could happen if we stopped relying on our plans and allowed ourselves to be surprised by Jesus.

How many people could we feed?

come and listen

"Praise our God for He is good.”

Ever since a bike ride I had about a month ago, I’ve been overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude. It’s something I’ve brought to spiritual direction, the faith-sharing group, and am now theological reflection. In Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, Thomas Merton writes, “The most wonderful moment of the day is that when creation in its innocence asks permission to ‘be’ once again, as it did on the first morning that ever was” (122). In a sense that’s what I mean by gratitude.

At the faith-sharing group last week, we talked about how we spend our time, and the relationship between time and simplicity, the relationship between time and our faith. We discussed ways we might be more intentional about our time- how we can create more space in our lives to for silence and how we can be more intentional about the spaces that already exist. Part of my action step that I brought before the group was to be more mindful of the many ‘bus rides’ I have throughout the week. I made a vow to not do anything ‘productive,’ to turn off my cell phone, to put my books away, and to start listening. It’s a small gesture, but one that’s already yielding significant results.

Above all, something just feels different. And it’s not just on the bus rides. It’s staying with me on the walk after, and in class, and in conversations, at church, in my dorm, and on the phone. I am deeply present and mindful of what and who God’s been putting in front of me, in a way I haven’t been for a long time. I am noticing little movements, and finding great joy in the small things- whether it’s the sting of a snowflake on my tongue, a warm foot inside my slipper, or running to catch the bus. For the first time, in a very long time, I feel incredibly alive. And I am overwhelmed by gratitude.

At the center of our being is a point of nothingness, which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. (Merton 146)

I now I’m not without fault and this isn’t a moment of pride. It’s not the feeling that I’ve finally got it all figured out, and I know what I’m doing with my life. It’s so much more. It’s as if, despite all the messy moments of life- despite the distractions, the pain, the anxiety and the uncertainty- I just got a glimpse of what glory looks like. A glimpse of that small place deep inside each one of us that there is nothing, nothing but God. And I know it’s just a glimpse. I know that I won’t be able to keep the distractions and anxiety at bay forever, but I pray that whatever happens, and wherever I go, I won’t ever forget what this feels like.

I’m grateful to be for the opportunities I’ve had and the people I’ve known. I’m grateful for my education, and for the relationships I have now. And I’m grateful for The Crossing community. A little while ago, we started using the metaphor of a family. Well, that’s what this community has become. These people are my family. I’m grateful to have this opportunity to be a minister, I’m grateful to be a part of an exciting and emerging movement, and I’m grateful to have these people in my life. Above all, I’m grateful to have the promise that wherever we go and whatever we do, God doesn’t leave. It’s the promise we have in Jeremiah and again in Hebrews 13. “Be satisfied with what you have. For God has said, ‘I will never leave you; I will never abandon you.’”

And as I reflect on the source of this gratitude, it seems fitting that I find myself in this season- the end of the year, midterm reflections, final examinations, and advent. For me, this season is sort of about it all. It’s about taking time to look back and see what happened in the past year- what was accomplished, what was made new, what relationships were built, and also, what was lost, what was broken, and what was grieved. But this season is also about looking forward. It’s time to prepare, to get ready for what lies ahead and to be open-hearted to new beginnings and new life. Above all, it’s a time to rest. I think this season is about stopping. It’s about noticing. It’s about stillness, silence, and contemplation. It’s a time to remember what it is we do what we do. This is the season to follow David Crowder’s call to, “Come and listen.”

two extremes

This morning we went back and did some house visits with lea toto one last time. Before we had been to slums villages of Kangemi, Waithaka, Kawangware, Riruta, Kariobangi , and Dandora, and today we went to Kibera...The outreach in the Kibera neighborhood is more extensive than all the others and the office/facilities are more spacious, as they are serving the largest population here. Being the largest slum in Africa, Kibera is home to about a million people...Today I learned that between the six sites, Lea Toto works with about 2,000 families (and provides food services, through WFP for about 900 of those families, of which are determined to be the most needy), and out of these 2,000 about 600 live in Kibera...

After a tour of the offices, the social hall, and the day care facilities, we split up into smaller groups and were paired up with some of the social workers and Lea Toto volunteers. Molly and I went around with two volunteers- Liz and Doreen- and this group dynamic enabled us to effectively visit and talk with many of the families who have children in the Lea Toto program. We visited about 6 or 7 homes and were able to speak with all of the mothers, and sometimes able to meet the children (the older kids were at school). Many of the conversations we had with these families were incredibly interesting and it was also nice to get to walk with and ask Liz and Doreen questions. One story in particular that struck me was this woman we met who was the first of her husband's three wives. The second wife passed away a number of years ago from HIV and left behind an HIV-positive daughter named Nancy, who is now 11. And the woman we met today currently lives with her husband and the two of them care for and live with Nancy. Although Nancy is quite healthy now and is living a full life, doing well in school and making friends, she wasn't tested for HIV until she was 9 years old. So for the first nine years of her life she was constantly sick- physically and emotionally, keeping to herself. In many ways it's pretty amazing that she is where she is today...Although all of our conversations and encounters with HIV positive children and their families and deeply saddening, angering, and upsetting, this converation was particularly heartbreaking. The woman who is now taking care of Nancy told us that she is currently HIV negative, which is a blessing. However, her husband has never been tested, and he refuses to do so. He says that it's witchcraft and he will die when he dies, independent of whether or not he has the virus. But the two of them are living together and sleeping together, and he refuses to use protection. In fact, Liz and Doreen were telling us that this is very common among Kenyan men. There is a common phrase in Swahili that represents this mentality, and it is the response men often give: "you can't eat a sweet with the paper on." And what's most heartbreaking about it all is that the woman we met is helpless to it all. She says it's a miracle in the first place that her husband knows about Nancy being in the Lea Toto program and that he's supportive of this (many of the men also refuse to have their children tested, so many of the kids in Lea Toto receive testing, medication, and care without their fathers' knowing of it), so she is willing to go along with his other decisions...I have often heard of and read about stories like this surrounding HIV/AIDS but never before the past few weeks had I ever made any personal connections. Speaking with this woman today and hearing her story was the most recent connection. And when the disease takes on a face, it becomes real, it becomes personal. To meet this woman and to hear that she is healthy, but at a constant risk, is heartbreaking...And although every time we go to the slums, it's difficult to understand, and even witness the extreme poverty- the smell the smells, to walk through the garbage, to see the children without clothes or food, and to sit in the houses without water, electricity, or even stable walls. Yet there always seems to be something calling me back here. There's something that feels honest and real about the humanness here, and the hope in the midst of it all. And it's extremely inspiring and encouraging to continue to see the work that Lea Toto is doing, the services they are providing and the relationships they are building...

On the other extreme from spending the morning visiting with families in Kibera, our afternoon was relatively laid back and we went over to the Giraffe Center. The Giraffe Center is a project of the Kenyann conservation organization, the African Fund for Endangered Wildlife, and was founded in 1979 with the vision of creating an educational center, and at the same time, rescuing the endangered Rothschild giraffe (which at the time there were only 120 left). The Giraffe Center today has about 60 acres of land where several giraffe live (we saw about 10 or so today), and the center continues to serve many purposes. It is primarily an educational center, so tourists visit, but many local school children also visit every year, as part of their curriculum. There is an informational presentation, during which I learned a lot of very interesting facts about giraffes. Among them are the following: they give birth standing up; they only rest/sleep between 5 to 35 minutes a day; they never close their eyes; babies are born at a height of about 6 feet tall and weigh between 65-100 kgs (between 130-200 lbs) and adults can grow up to 20 feet tall and weigh up to 1.8 tons; they can run up to 35 mph; one kick of an adult giraffe is so powerful that it can kill a lion! And as interesting as all this learning was, it didn't compare to petting and kissing the giraffes! A few of the giraffes that live at the center are tame, including Diasy, Betty, and K so they will eat out of your hand or even mouth (of which we definetely did!). So the experience of having a Daisy stick out her 35 centimenter tongue and lick my face was really cool! And aside from the education and the fun of the center, the primary goal is continue breeding giraffes and releasing them back into the wild, so that the species will continue to survive. On average, the giraffes stay for about 2-3 years before they are released back into the wild (usually somewhere in Northwest Kenya, around the areas we will be visiting this week). On the whole this was a really amazing experience- tons of fun and really educational!

Now I'm off to dinner and then packing tonight because we are leaving tomorrow for a five day excursion. Tomorrow we are heading to Nakyuru, which is about 3 hours north of Nairobi, and we will be stopping at several geological and envioronmental sites along the way. Then in Nakyuru we will spend a few days attending a lecture on environmental sustainability and current projects being done in Kenya, visiting a geothermal hotsprings, and going on a safari. On Thursday, we are then driving down through the valley to the Masi Mara (where there are no roads and the Masi Mara tribe still lives in its traditional setting), where we will spend three days on safari, before returning to Nairobi on Saturday night! So I will be completely out of contact until then at the earliest, but I hope all is well with you all and I will try to post again next weekend!

sunday best part deux

This morning we went to mass at Our Lady of the Visitation, the Catholic church where Fr. Charles' was baptized (at 11 years old) and the church he still calls home. And from the minute we arrived, I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit. Fr. Michael is the priest there, along with one other guy, and he has been there for four years. And although there are only two priests, the church holds about 4,000 people, and it is filled to capacity every week! We attended the 10:30 service, but there is also a 7am, 8:30am, and 5:30pm, all of which are also packed weekly. The numbers alone indicate the presence of something profound, but the experience of being with and worshipping alongside these people is indescribable. The choir was outstanding, their is a children's dance group that was great, and the entire procession was beautiful. Fr. Charles presided and co-celebrated with Fr. Michael...The mass was two hours long but I hardly noticed the time, as the service smoothly moved from one ritual to the next. In fact, this was one of the first times in my life where I felt a strong sense of peace, holiness, and even 'at-homeness,' in a Catholic service. There was a point in the service where I started to realize that I was beginning to appreciate the symbols and the sacraments, and I even thought to myself, "if this is what Catholicism looked like in the United States, I think I would be Catholic." I'm having trouble putting it into words, but there was just something sacred about my experience. I appreciated the symbols and was inspired by the faith, devotion, and worship of the people gathered there. In his sermon, Fr. Charles spoke about the importance of symbols and how they allow us to communicate in a way that we can't with words, they allow us to explain, identify with, point to, and touch transcendent realities. And that's why we have all the symbols in the church. They point us toward God, and help us to communicate with God in a way we couldn't otherwise....Aside from the symbols, Fr. Charles also spoke about the faith of the people at Our Lady, how they continue to encourage and inspire him, and that this is the reason he will always feel at home there. He explained that although in the United States, church attendance is declining, priests are in desparate need, and a general faith is lacking, there are other places in the world where the opposite is true. Although the sun may be setting in some places, it is beginning to rise in others. And Our Lady is one of those. What is happening at this church and the faith that these people have, is evidence that God is still present in our world and that God is still moving people to work to transform our realities...



After the service, Fr. Michael invited us to stay for lunch, and so we did. And it was delicious. In fact, I would dare say it's the best meal I've had in Kenya. There was some special kind of rice with chicken in it, beef in a delicious sauce, chicken, and chipati (an incredibly delicious Kenyan flour tortilla/bread type thing we've had a couple times and it is always amazing- it's Fr. Charles' favorite food!)...



Then this afternoon we went back to Masi Market and it was fairly uneventful. I shopped around, had some fun conversations with some of the vendors, and bought a few things...And after dinner and reflection, we had a little birthday celebration for Jess- one of the girls from Le Moyne who turned 21 today!

going back

At breakfast this morning Eric showed us how to eat passion fruit- by sucking the seeds out (*one of the joys of being back at Pedro Arupe is the constant and diverse supply of fruit)...After breakfast, we went to visit St. Aloysius Secondary School (high school) in Kibera- one of the slum neighborhoods (and the very experience of returning to the slums, even though we hadn't yet been to this particular neighborhood, was challenging after spending a week out in the Villlage where life is incredible simple but protected)...We were given a tour by Jill- a teacher and the deputy to the headmaster- during which she showed us around the school and spoke to us about the history and mission behind what they are trying to do. We also visited a few classroms and got to speak with some of the students (*in a Form 2 class -10th grade- they asked us to sing the National Anthem and then sang theirs)...St. Aloysius opened in 2004 with the mission of responding the HIV/AIDS crisis, but in a different way from all of the Nyumbani projects. Specifically, the school caters to youth living in the Kibera slum (the largest slum in Sub-Saharan Africa, with about 800,000 residents), and while the students don't necessarily have HIV, in fact most of them don't, they are all orphans of parents who died from HIV/AIDS. In fact, part of the application involves providing death certificates for both parents. St. Aloysius is a Catholic school that brings together "at-risk" youth from all different backgrounds (there is a much higher proportion of female students because they are in much greater danger growing up in this area), providing college prep education. And while HIV/AIDS affects many layers of society, St. Aloysius was started based on the belief that education is the only outlet these youth have to breaking the structural cycles of marginalization that dominate their reality. And from the second the school opened, the students have bought in to this mentality whole-heartedly...

Visiting the school and getting to speak to the students was encouraging and inspiring. Because in the midst of this slum, where 800,000 people have been forgotten, marginalized, and ignored, here is something positive. Here is a place where people are refusing to see the residents of Kibera as any less human than themselves, a place where individuals are choosing to take the side of the poor and the oppressed. And the students are incredibly responsive. The motivation they have and the work ethic they show, the thirst for knowledge that drives them, and the understanding that education is their only way out, is truly inspiring. School runs from 8 in the morning until 5:30 at night, but most students show up by 6 in the morning and don't leave until 8 at night. And Saturdays are optional, but most students show up for the full six hours and beg the teachers to stay even longer. The students are even dissastisfied when they have to go on holiday breaks. However, this isn't the whole picture. And part of what made this visit so discouraging and disheartening for me was learning that this thirst for knowledge, this motivation, and even intelligence, might not be enough. In the United States we pride ourselves on the ideals of working hard, dreaming big, and ultimately believing that if there is something you want- a dream you have- and you are willing to work hard enough, you can succeed and make that dream a reality. This is far from the reality here. Every year 500,000 students sit the National Exam, which determines who has the opportunity to go to University, and each year at least 50,000 receive marks that make them more than eligible for a place in one of the Kenyan Universities. However, in the whole country there are only 10- including private and public- providing only 10,000 places each year. Therefore, at least 40,000 students, who are bright, motivated, and well deserving of a place in university, are turned away each year. And most of the time, these are predominantly youth coming from the underresourced areas, such as Kibera. So as hard as it may be to understand, the reality of most of the youth growing up in Kibera, including those who attend and excel at St. Aloysius is that even if they dream to be a doctor or a laywer one day, and they are incredibly bright and motivated, willing to work hard, they still will never be given the opportunity...I have no idea what the "answer" is to this problem, and I'm fully aware that I am powerless to "fix" this situation, which makes it all that much harder. But at this point, I'm just trying to accept the reality and to meet this people where they are, and to look for God's presence, glory, and light in the midst of it all. Because I know that these are the people He dwells most deeply in...And something that just keeps coming back to me this past week is a phrase I saw painted on a door last week: "Where there is life, there is hope."...

After lunch, we spent the afternoon on a completely different note, at BOMAS, which is an educational facility where many of the Kenyan triblal villages have been recreated in their traditional settings, for the purpose of educating others about the history and evolution of different Kenyan cultures. And although I was a little apprehensive about this before we went, and how it was received and thought of by Kenyan people, it ended up being a great experience, and I really learned a lot, including some about the Luo people- Fr. Charles' heritage...

We then returned to the Jesuit residence for dinner and cocktails (*or what the Jesuits call prannials, which in Latin means "before the use of fingers," the term used to refer to pre-dinner drinks). This is something we have done once so far and it's a great time to get to visit with the Jesuits living in the house here. I have especially enjoyed visiting with one older man in particular, Fr. Topo. Fr. Topo is originally from India but has spent the better part of his life living in Africa, primarily in the Sudan and Kenya...After a nice meal, we had reflection and it ended up being unlike any other night thus far on the trip. A quick debriefing on the day quickly turned into a reflection of slum life and eventually a discussion of social analysis and structural marginalization. Although there were some very positive parts of the conversation, I was frustrated and felt misunderstood and also didn't believe that many of the other students were being completely honest with themselves. However, after the larger group discussion, I got to sit down with Beth (one of the campus ministers from Le Moyne) and Molly, and the three of us had a very positive conversation and unpacking of the larger group discussion. Then Molly and I listend to Elias and spent some time talking again about the words, and I just can't stop thinking about how strongly and profoundly this song speaks to me. It evokes such strong emotions and captures so much of what I'm feeling yet unable to express or put into words. The song represents so much of the personal connection I have made here with HIV/AIDS and some of those affected, especially the children. And while it is incredibly painful, there is also something deeply cathartic and even healing about the music. It's as if it's a promise not to forget, not to walk away from this reality, yet it's also an outlet, and a way to sit with and live in the midst of it all, a way to keep hoping...

leaving yet returning

Today we left Katui and returned to the Pedro Arupe house in Nairobi. Although it was sad to leave- I had an incredible experience in the Village and am so grateful for the time spent there- the farewell/sendoff the community gave us was amazing. Traditionally, the Village gathers on the morning that guests/volunteers are leaving (because the Village is still in the initial stages, preparing for sustainability and self-sufficiency there are constantly volunteers coming and going) and has a Mass and sendoff for them...So, at 8ish (the Mass was scheduled for 8 and surprising started as promptly as about 8:15) we had mass in the community hall/ church, and Fr. Charles gave the sermon/performed the eucharist. The Mass itself was a powerful and spiritually moving experience for me, as felt the presence of the Holy Spirit in the children singing and in Fr. Charles' words. He spoke about the central meaning of the resurrection being that, regardless of what defeats or challenges we might face, we can overcome, because Christ has overcome, even unto death. All of the Christian symbols and all of the central teachings point to and respresent this hope...Additionally, the eucharist felt particularly sacred today and I think much of this was the context- during my time in Katui at the Village, I really experienced something special in the people I met and the land we worked on. I believe there is something holy about that place- God is in those people and that land is God's country. These feelings that I first began feeling about Africa in general and about African people, when I visited South Africa last spring, seem to be most fully present here. This seems to be the closest place we still have to an example of what life was intended to be like and how we were intended to live in relation to one another...The passing of the peace was also a very holy experience, of 'touching,' as I made a concious effort to intentionally and grace-fully touch each person I gave peace to. Sharing this with the children was particularly powerful...Finally, at the end of the service, Nicolas (the Village manager/guy who is overseeing everything) had all of us come in front of the community and they thanked us and sent us on our way. Afterwards, as we were packing up and getting ready to leave, I walked back to our guesthouse and was followed/mobbed by about 10 grandmothers and several children. The grandmothers were all holding my hands and speaking to me in Kicamba (the local language of the Camba tribe, native to the Kaitue region), of which I obviously couldn't understand. And the kids were just walking with me, not saying much. However, a teenager later translated and told me that the grandmothers were saying that they were sad to see me go and that they hope I return some day...Although I had been feeling that I was ready to leave the Village and there are certain things I won't miss (such as the lack of electricty or running water), this was the moment I really realized how much I will miss this place and how effected I have been by these people. When I look back on my experiences there this week, I am overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for God speaking to me and loving me in the ways that He did, and I am struck by a profound sense of peace- a feeling of being a home...

The drive back was fairly uneventful (it was still awesome to see the scenery and to pass through the villages but we took the same route back that we used to get there, so there wasn't much of anything new), and we were all anxious to get back to eat lunch and shower (I hadn't washed my hair since Monday morning...Lunch was amazing- although it was still fairly simple, after four days of solid beans and rice, to have some meat was truly amazing. And then showering was refreshing...After getting cleaned up, although we were tired, Fr. Charles had yet another experience in store for us- going to an animal orphanage!

So, we spent the afternoon at this orphanage, which is a part of the Nairobi National Park. The whole place is sort of like a zoo, but the goal is to take in animals that have been orphaned and abandoned when they were younger, then to raise them and teach them skills, and eventually release them back into the wild...We got to see some cool animals, including Lions, and I learned quite a bit from our guide. And on the cool side of things, I got to feed an Ostrich and Grey African Parrot (both out of my hand), and then I got to pet a Cheetah (which is obviously tame and unfortunately will not be going back into the wild anytime soon)! Awesome!

After the orphanage we were all pretty exhausted from the week and traveling today, so we came back for dinner here and just had a low-key night, relaxing and playing cards. It's almost 1am now and I will have to wake up by 7:30 tomorrow, so I'm off to bed.