Missionary Gas

Closure of the Seminary was hoped for last week, at least in the dreams of the lecturers. It was three weeks before the end of the Semester and you felt you couldn’t produce another class. Today its 10 days to go, the end is coming and life’s lighter. Along with the 3rd years we’ve worked through the Greek of John, and now as a personal spiritual adventure, I’ve set out on the Apocalypse in Greek. Yale academic, Dale Martin, says its lousy Greek. He may be right, but as literature it’s unputdownable. Forget white-water rafting and bungee jumping, encounter brilliant white and red horses, mysterious scrolls, sky riders, secret seals, a terrifying lamb and “the one who sits on the throne”. Olwen´s life is in another orbit: dyeing strips, making aprons and bag fashions. Yet Zero Stress and Apocalypse have their same origin: the spirit of the Artist of the universe. A YouTube was produced for the WfM Annual Meeting: how such a collection of diverse ind

I was eating an orange on a balcony overlooking the Seminary grounds when I saw a Hobbit passing by. You could tell it was a Hobbit by its short body, unusual face and straggly hair. It had a large bag on its back and walked purposefully. Students nearby never even noticed. For years I have puzzled over how to describe the Seminary. It has extensive grounds shielded by iron gates and encompasses a community of 100. On one side of the grounds there is a row of caves with small doors and dark interiors: although for administrative purposes they’re called houses. Now I know. So many of my colleagues have Hobbit like features, I wonder how I never saw it before. Hobbits are kind, faithful and brave. Recently one was sent up a 60 ft high tree to cut it down branch by branch. Of course our myths tell us that it was a lowly Hobbit who saved the world. Liberator Simón Bolívar said “America is ungovernable. Those who worked for her independence have p

Late yesterday afternoon Olwen and I strolled down the street for a coffee. We passed a young lady who’d just got off a long-distance bus with various bags. She called out to Olwen, “Señora”, and explained she was frightened she might be robbed, would Olwen mind staying until transport arrived? Now, I’m not convinced Olwen has the kind of face that frightens off armed men, but, whatever. On the same day, Mark Wittig’s news from his sports ministry was the arrival of artificial grass and the murder of one of his enthusiastic youngsters. He had started to walk through an area he wasn’t known in. Yet, cyclists go down the street singing away, people smile plenty and the children laugh. And I don’t go out without praying for protection. Many in the city have to pay for it: to the barrio gang. On a wall near where we met the lady is a freshly painted message: “Revolution - Christ: Revolution in you!” And you could add, “And hope for Colombia”. Photo: The only h

Leaving class the other day, I was behind a former student, not sure if it was him or not, he seemed to have doubled in width. It was him. According to the Bible God gave food to strengthen our hearts. Colombia is blessed with excellent meat and delicious fruits, some of which you’ve probably never tasted. But heart disease is the nation’s main cause of death. Having had one heart attack and two strokes I’m concerned. Street corner sellers offer deep-fried cheese dough-balls and deep-fried pasties. Restaurants offer the Colombian speciality, patacones: large double-fried banana chips. But both types of establishments are outnumbered by the hot dog and burger people. Half of Colombia lives in poverty. But maybe that’s the problem: a fast food fry-up is a cheap meal or an easy profit. And, the best food for the heart: Jesus, the bread of life. Photo: Colombian fruit and veg: more expensive than a quick fry-up