Venezuela 2012

Its been a busy month.  I have been traveling, and am presently in the UK. Earlier in the month however I paid my first visit to Venezuela.

Venezuela was named “Little Venice” by Christopher Columbus because its many coastal waterways reminded him of the Italian city. It is a nation settled by Spanish conquistadores, and subsequently by other European peoples. Portuguese and Germans came at various times. African slaves arrived and of course there is a substantial Amer-Indian minority. Together they have created a very diverse community that like other Latin cultures exhibits great joy and enthusiasm. Sadly the nation, and particularly the capital, Caracas, has a terrible reputation for violence and high rates of homicide.

It’s a beautiful country with lots of forested mountains. The capital is both on the coast, and three thousand feet up in a valley between mountain ridges. Staying first in Junquitos and then in Colonia Tovar, I was respectively at 5,000 and 7,500 feet.

One of the first things I noticed along the roadside was the large number of election posters from the recent campaign. Hugo Chavez’ cherubic face looked down with the message: “Heart of My Country” proclaimed in Spanish. He has ruled for fourteen years and just won a new term. I asked colleagues in Venezuela if they believed his rule had been beneficial to the nation. In some places both within and outside Venezuela he is held in contempt, but just maybe he has done some positive things for his people and for the economic image of Venezuela. However, his rule has begun to look much like the kind of dictatorship that many new popularly elected leaders rush to condemn.

Venezuela is a very expensive country. Converting dollars to Bolivares at the official exchange rate – a much more favorable black market rate exists – gave prices of $30 for flip-flop sandals and $100 for some regular T-shirts. Food and restaurant prices also seemed expensive, however the idea of filling up the gas tank for not much more than a dollar quite appealed.

It’s also a nation that specializes in corn products. Arepas are a thin corn bread pancake that looks similar to a thin English Muffin. Cachapas are like American pancakes made with batter containing mashed sweetcorn. Fororo is a porridge made from ground cornmeal and much smoother than grits. And bollitos are somewhat like the Mexican tamale. Instead of rolling the masa dough around the filling and then steaming it in a corn husk, the masa is mixed with the filling (in this case, leek, shallot, bell peppers, olives and sultanas) and steamed in a banana leaf. They are all very good and a much better use of corn than mixing it in your gas tank, but then at a dollar a tank for the regular, who needs the ethanol.

A highlight for me was meeting some of the Warao people. Living in the delta of the Orinoco River, this ‘first people’ of Venezuela are one of the many tribes of Latin America who live on the edge of civilization. Often neglected by wider society and the government they suffer many of the ills of marginalization. Poor health, malnutrition, low rates of literacy combine to keep them on the edge. However, God is at work among them and Venezuelan churches have invested in compassionate outreach among the Warao and other tribal groups.

 

 

 

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Blessed to be a Blessing

Andrew Jared has grown up with parents who support a school in Niger, West Africa. We have a picture of him sitting by a golf hole flag aged eleven months during a fundraiser event for Niger.

Andrew Jared wins the Chick-Fil-A
Richmond One Mile.

He will be eleven next week but he has already caught hold of the idea of helping the children of Niger. Earlier in the fall he asked if he could do a fund-raiser event for Africa. We were pondering what he could do when we heard about the Chick-Fil-A Connect Race Series, raising money for Schools for Niger. He asked if he could run the mile race and use it to ask friends and neighbors to sponsor him towards a goal of $360 to sponsor a child’s education for a year.

The Anura School is an elementary and middle school in the suburb of Kwaara Tegui in the Niger capital of Niamey. A banquet that we hosted in Richmond in 2003 started the fund raising for the construction of the school and many events have contributed since. There are currently just over 200 children in the school, in a nation that often ranks as the world’s poorest with very low rates of literacy. In addition to receiving an education the children receive a daily hot meal.

In 2001 we organized a team from a church in the Richmond area to go and build a church in Niamey. Some of the guys on the team came back so enthusiastic to do more to help Niger that they started a group called Hearts and Hands for Africa. As the vision grew, one of the same guys who had been on the first trip invested his business into starting the LINK, a specific initiative to help grow the Kingdom of God in Niger. The LINK has sent more than sixty teams to help in various ways in Niger over the last nine years. However, a participant on the first LINK vision-building team late in 2003 was a local area Chick-Fil-A restaurant operator. [For those not familiar, Chick-Fil-A is a national chain of Chicken Restaurants with some of the best customer service out there. It’s a company owned by Christians, committed to assisting the community in many ways].

One Chick-Fil-A operator returning from Niger with a vision for the state of the nation’s education system has led to many Chick-Fil-A restaurants in the Richmond and Atlanta areas joining together to raise funds for Schools for Niger. This year is the eighth year that a charity Dodgeball tournament has run in Richmond, but it was the inaugural 5K and mile race series.

So our son Andrew went out to run today in the mile race, having raised $364 to date for the Anura School. Not only did he run, but he won the race!

In the fall of 2001 one of the very first things that the Hearts and Hands for Africa team did was host a baby shower for us. Jill was expecting Andrew. We were blessed. Eleven years later, the child who was blessed ran to raise money and be a blessing to the very same place that the team was set up for in the first place.

We are grateful to all our friends at MCC, the LINK, and Chick-Fil-A for what they have done to bless and build up Niger to the Glory of God!

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A Josiah Spirit and a Caleb Spirit

Since the late 1990s I have regularly spoken to a men’s meeting of about fifty guys at a local Methodist Church. I usually talk about Christian ministry in the West African nations of Niger and Burkina Faso. The men’s group gives an annual offering in support of the Anura School in the city of Niamey, Niger.

The Anura School was established in 2003 by some Brazilian friends of mine and together we have raised a lot of financial support for it over the last few years. My ten-year-old son, Andrew, has caught the vision for supporting the school. A couple of years ago he and his younger brother held a couple of bake sales on our front lawn to raise money for the school. This fall he is running in the ChickFilA Sports Challenge one mile run. He is using this opportunity to raise sponsorship for the school. ChickFilA is a national chain of chicken restaurants. A local owner was part of a team that went to Niger in 2003 and caught the vision for supporting Christian education there. He and other local owners have facilitated an annual sports challenge over recent years to support Schools for Niger.

This week I spoke again to this particular men’s meeting. Andrew came with me, shared an update on the school, and spoke about what he is doing to raise money. He did really well in his first public speaking engagement – it is great when you see your own child speaking with passion about something which you have carried yourself for many years! The guys at the meeting sent an offering basket around and he received $134 to add to the $120 he already raised, meaning he has just $106 to go to meet his target of $360 to sponsor one child for a year!

I pray that my son would have the spirit of Josiah who ‘while he was still young he began to seek the God of his fathers’ – 2 Chr. 34

When we sat down to supper with our host a guy called Joe came and sat with us. Joe’s a retired guy who I have seen every time I have spoken but never really talked to. On one occasion he led the devotional for the meeting. Anyway I discover that Joe is actually Yusuf Mehfoud, son of a Lebanese Methodist minister who emigrated to New Jersey in the early part of the last century. Our host asked Joe to tell my son the story of the baptisms in the Rhine. So Joe starts talking about his wartime experiences and how he got to assist a military chaplain with the baptism of nine soldiers in the Rhine during the 1945 offensive into Germany that led to the fall of Hitler. I’m doing the math, and wondering how old Joe is because he looks like he is only in his 70s. Our host leans over and says – “You know he is 95 – and he’s our speaker next month!” I tell Andrew that he is listening to ‘living history’ and then I ask Joe what his topic is. “The Arab Spring and the striving for Democracy in the Middle East!” Talk about being on the ball (he gave me a quick summary!). Oh for more of the Spirit of Caleb, that God might give us these mountains into our oldest age!

Whether we are among the very young, or the very old, we are all young in our true understanding of the Lord. Yet He chooses to use us all for His will and purposes and as we make ourselves available to him.

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Insulting Islam

Recent protests in the Middle East and other Muslim-majority nations have underlined the vulnerability of the crowd on the street to the rhetoric of their Imams. It can be quite easy to stir up a crowd when the object of their protest is the ‘decadent West’ hiding behind an amateur film maker’s attempt to discredit Muhammad in a poorly made video.

Muslims, like any religious people, don’t like it when the practice, principles or prophet of their faith is ridiculed by others. So, when a Danish newspaper published some cartoons of Muhammad a few years ago, they responded with protest, and now they respond with protest to a poor depiction of Muhammad on film. Unfortunately when a Dutch film-maker made a documentary about the situation of women in Islam he was murdered. Unfortunately, when in 1989 Salman Rushdie published his ‘Satanic Verses’, a fatwa was issued by the Ayatollah of Iran as an Islamic ruling of a death sentence again him because his work was deemed to have blasphemed the Qu’ran.

Historically Muslims allow no depictions of Muhammad or Allah. The equivalent of Christian art depicting scenes from Jesus life would be anathema to the Muslim community. Under sharia law those who insult Muhammad or Allah are to be put to death. This idea is not clearly stated in the Qu’ran although the 33rd Sura makes a reference. More authority for the practice is found in the Hadith. According to Bukhari 3:106, “The Prophet said, “Do not tell a lie against me for whoever tells a lie against me (intentionally) then he will surely enter the Hell-fire.”

Insulting the faith of another is not a Christian practice. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves and to love our enemies. Whether the Muslim is our neighbor or our enemy we are called to love him. However, Western Christianity has come to value the democratic ideals of freedom of speech and expression. In the words of Voltaire, we may not agree with a man’s words but we defend his right to use them.

In a current article (October 2012) in the International Bulletin of Missionary Research, Albrecht Hauser, a German Lutheran writes about Islamic outreach strategies. He quotes the 1980 Islamic Council of Europe strategy for the Islamization of Europe: “Once a community [of Muslims] is well organized, its leaders should strive to seek the recognition of Muslims as a religious community having its own characteristics by the authorities. Once recognized, the community should continue to request the same rights the other religious communities enjoy in the country. Eventually, the community may seek to gain political rights as a constituent community of the nation. Once these rights are obtained, then the community should seek to generalize its characteristics to the entire nation.” This articulates the clear goal that Muslims, given an opportunity, will take advantage of western freedoms for their own goal of establishing Islam and removing those freedoms.

In the meantime Christians, whether they realize it or not, live daily with the insult of Christ all around them. In our neighborhoods, workplaces, schools of learning and media the name of Christ is blasphemed on a regular basis. Perhaps more than this however is the routine blasphemy of Christ which is established in the Muslim religion. Every denial of the triune God within Islam denies the eternal coexistence of God the Son with God the Father. This denial is absolute in the Qu’ran, and absolute in the daily prayer of the Muslim. In the Christian community we should be grieved over this insult. But we do not respond with irrational violence. We are not inspired to hatred. We love, and we pray that the Muslim will be led into a true understanding of the nature of Jesus the Messiah.

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I Must be the Marabout

During the last couple of weeks of our European trip, my sons (aged 8 and 10) became very adept at finding loose change. Scanning the ground in parking lots, searching under supermarket checkouts and checking out slot machines for unclaimed change proved to be a lucrative business. I was shocked to count the total coinage as we were about to return to the USA and discover they had accumulated £4.36.

Now this was not something I was expecting them to do, nor did they need to do it. They just found it be a challenging and somewhat rewarding experience. However, in the process I was reminded of the Garibous of West Africa. A friend of mine named Steve Davies, who works in the North of Burkina Faso, has produced a short video about these boys which is posted on his blog at: http://voiceinthedesert.org.uk/weblog/2012/08/21/a-day-in-the-life-of-a-garibou/

The Garibous are young boys who are Qu’ranic students. They are handed over by their families to the care of a Marabout, or Muslim holy man, often because the family cannot afford to feed them, but also because they can then learn to recite the Qu’ran by heart. Sometimes known as Talibes, or ‘students’ (a word from which the Muslim world has also derived the term ‘Taliban’) these boys are often then required to beg for their food or for alms from charitable Muslim neighbors. Returning to the home provided them by the marabout with nothing, they may be beaten, so success in begging, or scrounging as we might call it, is a necessary part of the daily experience.

Alms-giving, or Zakat, is a pillar of Islamic practice. It is done for both the purification of one’s wealth and one’s soul. It becomes both a means in Islam whereby one may redistribute wealth and provide for the poor, and a means whereby one may earn salvation. In return for their successful solicitation of alms, the garibou will receive teaching in how to both memorize and recite the Qu’ran. He cannot understand Arabic when he has grown up with one of the tribal languages of West Africa, yet he will learn to pronounce it fluently and to fluidly recite the Suras of the Qu’ran. If he is successful in memorizing the whole Qu’ran, whether he understands the Arabic or not, he will be permitted the title ‘Al Hafiz’, bestowed upon those who have achieved this sacred challenge.

The story of the Garibous highlights the desperate plight of many in West Africa. Poverty and lack of educational opportunity mean that a sanctioned life of begging and a qu’ranic education offer a way up the social ladder. No matter that in other parts of the world, and now possibly more in West Africa with the rise of Al Qaeda in the Maghreb and Boko Haram, the garibous and their equivalents have proved to be a fertile ground for the growth of radicalism and thus terrorism.

I thank God for the many who are involved around the world in bringing opportunities for basic education, literacy and job skills to the dispossessed around the world. However, the issue of poverty is a continuing reality. My boys do not need to go looking for money where it has fallen by the wayside, but it is clear that many, even in our own American society, do find a need to go out and beg for their living, just as multitudes across the developing world do. Jesus said that we would always have the poor with us. However I would venture to suggest, that we do better to respond, not to poverty, but to the word of the Lord who wants to be a provider to all. I hope that many a wise Marabout, or at least men and women around the globe who aspire to holiness, would agree with this sentiment.

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The Importance of Team Work

Can you believe it! A Brit has won the Tour de France. For the first time in ninety-nine runnings of the greatest cycle race in the world, a British guy has won. This may be the greatest British victory in France since Agincourt!

How did it happen? The BBC website ran an article this evening entitled “Bradley Wiggins: ten reasons for his Tour de France win” (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-18922103). The article gave as the first reason, Team Work. And what did their incredible team work produce? Not merely Wiggins as the overall winner, but Chris Froome in second place and Mark Cavendish as winner, for the fourth year in a row of the final sprint stage on the Champs Elysee in Paris as the race came to an end.

Fifteen years ago British cycling chose to focus on track cycling in the velodrome, because road cycling was so riddled with drugs. The focus paid off as Great Britain dominated the cycling at the Beijing Olympics four years ago and are considered to be the nation to beat at the London Olympics starting next week.

As road racing cleaned up its act so the British formed a new team, Team Sky, with the intention of taking on the best in the world. Bradley Wiggins worked hard to help his team mate Mark Cavendish to become the 2011 World Road Race Champion. This time around Cavendish returned the favor to help his team mate win overall in France.

The Tour de France is not just a road race. It is probably the greatest cycle race of all, the Wimbledon or the Soccer World Cup for cyclists! Over twenty stages totalling more than 2,000 miles, the cyclists race to see who can  gain the overall win, and wear the Maillot Jaune, or the Yellow Jersey.

Some of the stages are mountain stages, with multiple climbs, favoring stamina and strength over speed; some are time trials calloing for speed over medium courses against the clock; and some are just long and fairly flat road races requiring endurance. The one who completes everything in the shortest aggregate time is the overall winner, regardless of how many individual stages he has won.

Team Sky committed to training together. Each member had a role to play, that was tuned toward enabling the best all-rounder, to win. During training, Wiggins would climb as much as two and a half miles of altitude per day in the mountains of Tenerife, while at other times, his team mates would practice the policy of protection, to guard their favorite against accident and to ensure that other racers did not get the chance to break away and build up unassailable leads.

The attitude and team spirit paid off with an incredible achievement. Not only did the team win, but they won the hearts of others as during one stage Wiggins deliberately slowed the pace right down when Cadel Evans, the 2011 champion from Australia, had his tires sabotaged, so that he would not suffer from an extended time difference.

Last Saturday we went a few miles down the road to Pierrelatte to watch the tour come through. As with my experience waiting on the streets of Paris for a glimpse of Lance Armstrong coming in to win in 2002, we waited long on the dusty street before a mass of cyclists came toward us and sped around the corner in front of us. Even so we got to see Wiggins, already wearing the yellow jersey as race leader, pass by, protected in the middle of his team. Team work was winning on that day, as it has done throughout the race.

The Apostle Paul speaks of running to win the prize. He says: ‘Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize?  Run in such a way as to get the prize’. (I Cor 9:24) and he talks of pressing on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of him (Phil 3:12).

In these instances he is speaking to individuals. On other occasions he looks at the body of believers as a team. He tells us to honor one another above ourselves (Rom 12:10), and to encourage one another and build each other up (I Thess 5:11). It will take this kind of sacrificial love to achieve the Kingdom’s purpose. The world is looking for teams and communities who live out the second commandment, and God is looking for hearts and minds that are turned toward him and toward the building of Kingdom purpose through team work.

And to all our friends in Virginia, we look forward to welcoming some of the best of British cyclists when the 2015 World Road Race Championships are hosted by Richmond!

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France 2012

I’ve been coming to the little town of Bourg-St-Andeol on the banks of the Rhone river for more than twenty years. We’re here as a family this year spending the month of July with family friends. Their kids and our kids get on really well together and we enjoy the fellowship of long-drawn out meals. Both Jill and our friend Benoit celebrated their birthdays this week, having been born on consecutive July days a few decades ago. We’re staying in an apartment in a 17th century town house that is arranged in an ‘H’ shape around two courtyards, one of which opens onto a narrow street while the other contains a peaceful little flower garden.

France is a very beautiful country. Cycling through fields of sunflowers and golden grains on Saturday I was reminded of a dish towel we saw in Scotland. In that case the script read something like this: God was extolling the virtues of his creation in Scotland – the heather covered moorlands, the deep lakes, the majestic mountains. The angel Gabriel challenged Him saying: “If you given them all of this they will be perfect!” God’s response: “Ah, but wait until you see who their neighbors are!”

In similar fashion we could note that God would have said of France, amid the fields, vineyards, flowers and cusine: “Ah, but wait until you see the politics I’m giving them!”

France is known for “La Grève”, “The Strike”. Not a summer seems to go by without truck drivers blockading ports, railroad staff walking out and public servants ceasing to serve. Maybe this year in the wake of emphatic victories for the socialists in both the presidency and the legislature the labor force will be less confrontational. However, in the midst of the current Euro crisis, the plans that the new administration have for growth will be severely limited by the massive debt that the nation has incurred in the continued pursuit of its generous social programs.

But politics and scenery are not the only things France is known for. In the year 498, the Frankish bishop now known as St. Remy, presided at the baptism of Clovis, recognized as the first king of the French people. He prophesied: “This nation of France is destined to defend the church of Christ. When she is true to this cause she will be blessed, when she fails this cause she will suffer. Even so, she will last until the end of time”. Of all the nations of Europe, France is the oldest, and her record as a defender of the church of Christ was proven at the Battle of Poitiers in 732 when the Islamic invasion of the Moors was turned back. In the centuries since the role has been sporadic, but it can still be said that historically many have left the shores of France on behalf of the gospel.

In the modern era we rejoice in the growth of evangelical communities across the nation, and also the renewal that is coming to many Catholic congregations.

There has been Christian witness in Bourg-St-Andeol for at least 1800 years. Andeol, a disciple of Polycarp, the martyr bishop of Smyrna – Izmir in modern Turkey, and himself a disciple of John, was murdered here by the Romans in the early years of the third century. A sarcophagus in the ancient church here is said to contain his remains. The bishop of Viviers was the guest preacher at a service here last Sunday. His message was a very solid exhortation to serve in the Spirit of Jesus Christ: To make disciples as He made disciples, and not mere followers; to love as He first loved us, not in a spirit of camaraderie, but with real giving love; and to love the world “so much”, as the Father loved the world so much he sacrificially sent his only begotten one!

May the nation and people of France increasingly live up to their prophetic destiny.

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The Olympic Flame

We’re in the English Lake District, and we happen to be here at the time the Olympic Torch comes through on its long journey around the United Kingdom en route to the stadium in London for the Olympic opening ceremony on July 27th. 8,000 people will get to carry the flame for a leg of the journey as a convoy meanders its way up and down Britain with a journey across to Ireland. Some of them are sporting or national and local celebrities. Others are members of local communities who have been nominated for their community service. The oldest runner is 100 and the youngest 10.

So we went to Whitehaven, a small fishing port on the western coast of England, below the shadows of the Lakeland mountains. In typical cloudy damp weather we stood close to the harbor and waited as the drizzle came down, for the torch to appear. Crowds had lined the streets waving Union flags and red, white and blue plastic replicas of the torch. Our stay in the UK has rapidly revealed a season of great patriotism with the Queen’s jubilee, the Euro soccer championships and the Olympics all happening within a period of a couple of months.

The torch procession came by with police motorcycle outriders, and advertizing trucks representing Samsung, Lloyds TSB and Coca Cola, the three sponsors of the torch run. Then came the bus carrying the stage runners, followed by the torch itself, carried in this case by a middle-aged lady of local renown. Because we were on the harbor wall, the vehicles all by-passed us, and only the runner came our way. In a moment the experience was over, but at least we got some video and photos.

But the experience was actually not over. We were pleasantly surprised to discover that the evening’s speaker at our hotel was a local community volunteer who had run with the flame the previous day. The topic for his talk concerned the Victorian origins of Grange-over-Sands, the town where we were staying, but he had brought his torch with him. We each got to hold and run with the torch, and the photos attest to the pride we felt in holding this symbol of a universally understood event.

Few things other than the Olympics inspire such worldwide interest. Every four years, the world’s best gather to compete. Britain has done particularly well over the last few Olympics, improving vastly over the single gold among fourteen medals won in Atlanta in 1996. This year they are expected to do even better than the total of forty-seven won in Beijing.

At the opening ceremony each team gathers behind its national flag. We get a beautiful picture of the nations of the world coming together to celebrate. On occasions, even nations at war with one another can set aside their differences to appear together. But for those of us who long for the Revelation 7:9 vision of peoples from every tribe and tongue gathered together to worship before the throne of the lamb, the image should only inspire our prayers toward that day when every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is indeed Lord.

For a day we got to follow the Olympic flame. May we however all pursue, for all our days, He who is the light of the world, who enflames our hearts with life and love.

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Searching for the English

During our first weekend in the UK we went to church in a small provincial town west of London. The preacher was from Australia, having arrived in the UK via travels in several parts of the world. The lady operating the sound desk was from Llanelli, a town in South Wales, and the location of World Horizons’ origins. She had left more than twenty-five years ago to study in England and never gone back. Then the people who greeted us over  coffee in the church hall after the worship service were from Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Work had given them the opportunity to live in the South of England.

A couple of days later we went in search of a neighborhood park where the boys could practice their skills on a tennis court. Guys playing tennis on the court next to us were speaking Romanian. In the kiddie playground which Sarah Grace enjoyed, were mothers speaking to their children either in Polish or in Urdu. If we had not known we were firmly planted in England, we could easily have wondered what international cross-roads we had arrived at. We certainly found ourselves wondering where the English were.

In the last fifty years, England, along with several other nations of Western Europe, has become a multi-cultural nation. Driving up to London to visit the Olympic park we skirted the borough of Tower Hamlets. This municipal district in East London publishes its social services information in more than twenty-five languages to cater to the diverse Asian community that resides there. In the Westfield Shopping Center, the largest mall in Europe, which has recently opened just beside the Olympic park we saw plenty of Japanese and Korean tourists. But there were also plenty of people speaking clearly in local English accents whose complexions betrayed their status as second-generation arrivals from Asia, Africa and the Middle East.

Adding these experiences together you could well  forgive us for wondering where the real English were to be found. By that I am of course referring to those whose families go back generations in England.

Our second weekend in Britain was actually in South Wales. Nonetheless we got to see plenty of the celebrations for the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee on TV. A pageant of a thousand boats on the river Thames, followed by a Concert with light show on the front facade of Buckingham Palace, and then a Christian service of Thanksgiving in the iconic St. Paul’s Cathedral, showed plenty of the very best of British to the world.

But in the midst of it, the Queen, the monarch, the ultimate symbol of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, let alone the Commonwealth of Nations; an eighty-six year old woman, who has served her people for sixty years; the very best of British. And across the nation thousands of communities came together to celebrate in the streets. Union Flags and celebratory bunting were in evidence everywhere. Even across the English Channel in European nations that long ago abandoned monarchies for republicanism, communities expressed their fascination with the institution and the woman who currently holds the role.

The England and the Britain of today may be very different to those of fifty years ago, but there’s still a clearly discernible identification with the history and institutions that have served well to build such a pluralistic and cosmopolitan society.

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SMUGGLING PEANUTS

Today we leave on our big adventure. The whole family gets to go to Europe for three months. England, Wales, Scotland, France and maybe Spain as well. We’ll cover several thousand miles in trains and automobiles, stay with friends in many places, and eat a wonderful variety of food. And we’ll also do a lot of work, visiting with colleagues, encouraging, praying and sharing with them!

We traveled for seven weeks in 2009 when Sarah Grace was just learning to walk. This time it should be easier, with greater mobility and everyone able to help with the bags and the chores. We’ve done well with the luggage, restricting ourselves to just five bags to check. That includes quite a lot of undesired or unexpected items. The former includes the mandatory booster seat we need for Sarah, packed away in the bottom of one of the cases with socks stuffed into all the crevices. Daniel needs one on the other side of the pond as well, even though he was glad to say goodbye to his in Richmond last birthday. Fortunately my sister has borrowed one for us.

The latter category includes the wedding clothes we all need for the wedding of Tim Miller to Clare Carter. Tim is the kids’ oldest cousin and the wedding takes place in a fourteenth century tithe barn inBerkshire. All the clothes are packed in the same case, so if that one does not arrive, we’ll either be wishing we had insurance or turning up at the celebration looking like a bunch of … well… unkempt American relatives!

No one likes all the bag searches and security checks at airports, even thought we appreciate them as a necessary inconvenience. I am sure that those with the job of checking the bags and leaving that tell-tale little TSA card in your suitcase, are used to the surprises. But a question does arise on this occasion. “Is it okay to smuggle peanuts across the Atlantic?”

We like to take hospitality gifts to people, and Virginia peanuts travel exceptionally well. One pound vacuum packed bags stack well, and fit neatly between layers of clothes, but is there an upper limit on the number we can take? After all we have at least sixteen packs and then there are the little jars of Virginia honey and bottles of special barbecue sauce. Of course the latter are wrapped multiple times in plastic, because we wouldn’t want them to spoil the peanuts. I guess we wouldn’t want them to stain the wedding clothes either!

Ah well …. I better go pack the bags into the van!  More of our travels to follow ….

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