GeneralInspirationSimon Blog

Get Out There This Christmas

How are you doing? How are you feeling? I’m usually an 8.5/10 but would give myself 5.5/10 in lockdown. I feel like a caged, frustrated animal. Yet I’m aware that although we’re all in the same storm, we’re not all in the same boat – my boat’s one of the nicest, which makes me feel all the worse for being grumpy and lacking in positivity!

However, I’m determined to combat that darkness, and I want to challenge all of us to consider joining in something like the following:

It’s very simple. I’ve just bought this portable Bluetooth speaker. Now multiple times in the build-up to Christmas, a group of us will go out in the city centre and the streets around Bath to sing a carol and then share a short message of hope – which is the central theme of Christmas, innit?!

It’s not rocket science. If you’re a church leader, my mate Pat Allerton aka ‘The Portable Priest’ gives you a similar challenge.

There are huge opportunities here, let’s not miss them! I’ve checked and consulted the latest government guidelines (for readers in the UK), and this is kosher.

So many people are fearful, hopeless and depressed right now. Let’s get out there (appropriately space, of course!) and sing/speak out peace, hope and joy.

Could you do that? Ask your pastor for his/her blessing, he/she puts the word out, gather a group of fellow-frustrateds, and just go for it!

Another idea: sign up as a Deliveroo rider! That’s what I’ve done. I’ll get paid to take exercise, and I’ll get to share Hope with everyone I deliver a pizza or kebab to!

You can stop reading now, but please, seriously, what’s stopping you? Let me know how you get on.

Just don’t do a Larry Walters. The blog’s finished, but scroll down if you want to know what I mean by that…

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Larry

Few will have heard of Larry Walters. He was a 33-year-old truck driver living in San Pedro, not far from Los Angeles. On weekends he used to just sit around and watch TV. But this particular Saturday, he was bored with his usual routine, so he decided he wanted to do something. He went shopping and bought forty-two weather balloons and a deck chair. Returning home, he anchored the chair to the ground with some ropes, and then tied the weather balloons to it. When all was ready, he ensconced himself in the chair, with his air gun nestled in his lap. He then cut the ropes, and rose steadily into the sky.

Within minutes he’d attained an altitude of sixteen thousand feet. The air traffic control tower at L.A. airport reported receiving a number of garbled and incredulous messages from different pilots along the lines of, “You’re not going to believe this, but there’s man floating up here in a deck chair!” Soon Larry’s thirst for action seemed quenched, and he decided it was time to return to planet earth. He shot a number of balloons with his air gun and gradually floated downwards. Forty five minutes later he landed at Long Beach, about seven miles from where he’d taken off.

His excursion made front page news, resulting in a Timex ad and an interview on the Tonight Show. Quizzed as to his motivation for doing it, Larry Walters replied, “It was something I had to do – I couldn’t just sit there!”

Hmm… I’m so desperate not to ‘just sit there’ this Christmas and beyond.

BooksGeneralSimon Blog

Big Church Read

Greetings!

So lockdown started on a national level on Thursday. There’s no pretending these are easy times to go through…

…but I’ve got a proposition for you, which I’d love as many of you as possible to get behind. All the more in our enforced confinement and isolation, this could be a spiritually bonding and strengthening discipline.


We’re teaming up with St Andrew’s bookshop to get as many people as possible throughout the nation on the same page (literally) as we journey through the coming year.

Many of you have already read Choose Life – in which case, could you get your friends, family, youth group or church to join in?

If you’re not familiar with Choose Life, it was voted ‘Devotional of the Year’. It is a collection of 365 daily readings, inviting you to a year of good choices. If you embrace the challenge fully, it may be the most memorable year of your life!

Could you buy a stack load for Christmas presents? One mate has just bought 50 of them for his gang!

This Big Church 365 Read is a great way to connect youth groups, home groups, student CUs etc together during lockdown and being physically apart. Each week, I’ll post a short weekly video message to encourage those taking part.

How do I get involved?

There are two ways to join. You can buy the book for £12 and have access to the weekly videos OR join The Big Church 365 Read Club for only £24 (equivalent of £2 a month) and you will:

  • Be supporting the work of GLO to the tune of £12
  • Be sent a copy of ‘Choose Life’
  • Receive a free copy of my book, ‘Sacrifice’ 
  • Receive 10% discount on all purchases from www.standrewsbookshop.co.uk and other offers
  • Have the opportunity to join a Choose Life trip to visit Burundi – either as an individual or as a group (dates and costs to be confirmed).


If you’re interested in getting 5/10/20/etc copies, then email Steve of St Andrew’s Bookshop for some deals on bigger volume of books.

Thanks for all your support!

Simon

No time for God? Make time! Why not get out of bed or off the couch and onto your knees? It may lead to revival. Choose Life gives you 365 daily doses of challenge and encouragement. Blessed are the radicals!
– Brother Andrew, Open Doors

Daily inspiration to help us live life to the full. I wholeheartedly recommend this fantastic resource that will help shape your day to be filled with Jesus.
– Mark Melluish, Director of Tearfund and New Wine

GeneralSermons

how long

“My belief is that when you’re telling the truth, you’re close to God. If you say to God, “I am exhausted and depressed beyond words, and I don’t like You at all right now, and I recoil from most people who believe in You,” that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said. If you told me you had said to God, “It is all hopeless, and I don’t have a clue if You exist, but I could use a hand,” it would almost bring tears to my eyes, tears of pride in you, for the courage it takes to get real-really real. (Anne Lamott) 

Here’s a talk on Psalm 13, in which David gets really real with God. Be encouraged whatever you’re going through…

BlogGeneral

This blog will only make sense if you’ve read the last one, please do so…

Done? OK, I’ll carry on.

I felt the need to write a follow-up to the last blog because a number of highly intelligent and spiritual people, whom I respect deeply, responded unfavourably to it, expressing disappointment and loving concern for me. Was I going soft? On the edge of burn-out? Losing my faith?

The answer is no. My contention was and still is simply that the use of language is nuanced, and I question the received meaning of words such as ‘Christian’, ‘Christianity’, ‘missionary’, etc in the contemporary Western world. They are loaded with different meanings for different people.

Language evolves.

My Great-grandfather had begun translating the Bible when he died suddenly in 1941 in Matana, Burundi. On his tombstone was written ‘Harold Guillebaud, imbata ya Yesu’. ‘Imbata ya Yesu’ at the time could be translated as ‘Jesus’ servant’. Unfortunately, all these decades later, ‘imbata’ now means ‘duck’! I reckon all the more as a linguist Harold would laugh his head off to think that passers-by nowadays read of him as Jesus’ duck!

In Kirundi, ‘Umukristo’ means ‘Christian’ in the broadest sense, i.e. a cultural Christian. So I’ve never been an Umukristo/Christian in Burundi. There is another term, ‘umukizwa’, which means ‘saved’, i.e someone with a genuine living relationship and faith in Christ. Yet even ‘umukizwa’ has been debased in meaning through questionable political associations of the term. One almost has to say, when asked, “Yes, I’m an umukizwa, but… (and then qualify it further)”

Up until the mid-20th century, ‘gay’ usually meant ‘carefree’ or ‘cheerful’. Back then, I would have been right to identify as gay. Now it no longer means the same, and if I/you use it that way, I/you will be misunderstood.

I think you can see what I’m saying.

I received a number of comments on the blog itself, many more directly to my email. My wife, Lizzie, who doesn’t always agree with my thinking (thank goodness – how awful it’d be to live within an echo chamber!), was outraged by some of the comments. For me, they simply illustrated exactly what the blog was saying – that we Jesus people can do a massive disservice to our cause by not really imitating his style. For example:

Simon, you were never ever a Bible-believing Christian… otherwise your supposed faith would not have fallen away like a tiny raindrop. I know those in your organisation and their faith is similar… very shallow, just like the parable Jesus gave us about the seed that falls on shallow ground… very sad because you have no idea what’s ahead. I’ll be praying for you to return to the Lord Jesus Christ.

Whilst loyal Lizzie spat defensive venom, it was more like water off an imbata’s back for me. I literally laughed out loud… but then felt slightly sad. Another example:

Dude, keep your judgemental opinions about Donald Trump to yourself. You have no idea what you’re talking about… Please please please do more research. And don’t use google.

In contrast, I really appreciate this thoughtful one so much more, both in tone and substance:

Perhaps person-by-person redemption of the term – rather than rejection – would be better? Though that would obviously be a much longer-term project. A problem with rejection is distancing oneself not only from ‘bad’ Christians but an awful lot of good ones… otherwise I’m a big admirer of your work and the notes you strike more generally.

That makes sense to me. He’s right. There are so many beautiful examples of followers of Jesus that I would indeed be proud to identify with, and call Christian. But still…

So am I a Christian? Well, who’s asking? What does that word even mean to me/you/them? I don’t think my blog is going to change the world’s use of the term, but it’s worth thinking about.

As award-winning blogger/theologian friend Ian Paul (it’s well worth subscribing to his blog ‘Psephizo’) wrote to me:

“In my blogs I largely avoid using the words ‘Christian’ and ‘church’—in fact, when teaching at St John’s, I prohibited students from using the word ‘church’ in relation to the New Testament, because of likely misunderstandings!… People often don’t realise that the coining of the term Christianos in Acts 11:26 took place in a particular cultural context, and at the time was actually a term of derision which the followers of Jesus then happily took on themselves. They wore the mockery as a badge of pride!”

Context is everything, and so in different parts of the world, this discussion might not be relevant. But missiologically-speaking, there are many contexts where it’s definitely the wrong word. As one comment shows:

I’ve befriended Muslim neighbours. Also Jews. I’ve asked, “Do you consider that the Crusaders were Christians?” They always answer firmly, “Yes!” Then I insist that they were not, in my opinion, “Christians,” because they were NOT following Jesus! I have read a number of books by ex-Muslims, by Muslim Background Believers. They never call themselves Christians. They become “followers of Jesus”…We do not defend “Christianity” or “the church.” We are witnesses for Jesus. If asked if we are Christians, we must learn to reply, “How do you define a Christian?”

That’s surely right, isn’t it?

Thankfully, there were indeed plenty of other comments revealing that many of you resonate with what I’m wrestling with, such as:

Thank you for articulating so well something I have thought about and struggled with for years and think about regularly now in the midst of these world events and as the owner of a business that speaks into a lot of people’s lives. I have struggled with wondering if I am unfaithful to my Lord and my faith by struggling with identifying as a Christian. And I struggle with how to talk about and share my relationship with Christ, with others because of the issues that you bring up. Anyway, thank you for this encouragement to stand fast for Christ, but to not have to feel compelled to identify with a term that I know alienates people and often does not help bring them closer to Him.

Again, I got this was from an American friend of mine who is a passionate follower of Jesus, having served for a number of years in India:

I so appreciate what you wrote. I have struggled with American Christianity, or more specifically I’m realizing white evangelicalism for many years. Since the 2016 election, I have not been able to ‘identify’ as an evangelical for the same reasons you have written. White evangelicals handed Trump his victory… I can’t understand this at all. Now after George Floyd I’ve really come to a breaking point. Trying to find my voice in all of this and figure out how to speak out to the Christians around me and keep my love on.

Please, my US buddies, I’m not bashing you. Hear that! Indeed, to counterbalance the above, I agree with my friend Gerard’s concerns:

Your blog was a seriously interesting commentary. I just add one thing which worries me: there’s currently a generation of ‘Christians’ who are so determined not to identify with Bible-waving Trump, that in their efforts to appeal to his critics they have come to abhor everything about him, including his stand against abortion and his favour for freedom of speech and the right to possess a Christian worldview and not to be forced at work to act in contradiction. I am not comfortable with that either. We really need to think, and stick with God on everything, while adopting a culture that builds bridges from a solid place.

Agreed, Gerard. We really need to think, and (discern what it looks like to) stick with God on everything, while adopting a culture that builds bridges from a solid place. That’s our challenge…

Probably the most interesting module I ever did in my theological training (at Allnations) was a course on Christology. It was so fascinating to see how different cultures represented and appropriated their version of Jesus, as often seen through their art. You had the Latin-American-liberation-theology-freedom-fighter Jesus, the Aryan-blond-haired Jesus, the black Jesus, etc. We’re all inclined to do it!

The danger is we end up genuinely believing that Jesus agrees with everything we do. Or as Tim Keller warns us:

“If your god never disagrees with you, you might just be worshipping an idealized version of yourself.”

I don’t want to be that person. And I don’t think, put in those terms, any of us does.

Dostoevsky said of Jesus:

“I believe there is none lovelier, deeper, more sympathetic and more perfect than Jesus.  I say to myself, with jealous love, that not only is there none like him, but there could never be anyone like him.”

I agree. And I want to serve Him with my whole heart at whatever cost to the very end.

If you’re still reading this, and you’ve been put off Jesus by me or any of my brothers and sisters around the world because we’ve misrepresented Him, I’m truly sorry. Forgive us! Don’t give up on your spiritual search. I’d be really interested in hearing from you. 

So, in closing, I could still be wrong – please be kind in telling me so – but for the above reasons, that is why I still say that I no longer call myself a Christian… rather I’m a follower of Jesus.  

PS Why not, during this period of restrained movements, check out who Jesus really is in this brilliantly-produced short video series called the Alpha Course? Our church is launching the course this coming Thursday night, so you could join us for free from the safety and comfort of your sofa!

Thursday June 18th at 7.30pm, see you there? Sign up here

If you just want to check out week one’s content, here it is

BlogGeneral

It might surprise some of you when I say that I stopped being a Christian about ten years ago. Last week’s picture of the world’s most powerful man holding up a Bible for what was in my view a questionable photo-opportunity polarized many, and prompted much discussion and outrage. It certainly got me thinking, and such events reinforce my reticence to be identified with ‘Christianity’.  

In his book ‘Blue Like Jazz’, Donald Miller recounts how a secular talk show host urged him to defend Christianity on air. Miller refused to do so, which made the host curious:

He asked me if I was a Christian, and I told him yes. “Then why don’t you want to defend Christianity?” he asked, confused. I told him I no longer knew what the term meant. Of the hundreds of thousands of people listening to his show that day, some of them had terrible experiences with Christianity; they may have been yelled at by a teacher in a Christian school, abused by a minister, or browbeaten by a Christian parent. To them, the term Christianity meant something no Christian I know would defend. By fortifying the term, I am only making them more and more angry, I won’t do it. Stop ten people on the street and ask them what they think of when they hear the word Christianity, and they will give you ten different answers. How can I defend a term that means ten different things to ten different people? I told the radio show host that I would rather talk about Jesus, and how I came to believe that Jesus exists and that he likes me. The host looked back at me with tears in his eyes. When we were done, he asked if we could go get lunch together. He told me how much he didn’t like Christianity but how he had always wanted to believe Jesus was the Son of God.

Words can be so abused, misused, misunderstood. Am I a Christian? Honestly, I don’t know – or rather it depends who’s asking, and what they mean by it. I’ve not used that term of myself for a decade now. What sits more comfortably, and what I tell people more often, is that I’m a follower of Jesus.

I have a friend who is working in Mozambique. One time as he entered the country, he put ‘missionary’ as his occupation on the entry form. The official spat at him: “Missionary? We don’t want you missionaries in our country!” Now instead he writes ‘Transformational engineer’, and if they question him further as to what he does, he says he builds people! I like that. In fact, I started doing the same when filling out the ‘occupation’ box on my entry forms.

‘Christianity’, ‘missionary’, etc – they’re loaded words. Depending where you live, you or those around you may or may not have a problem with them.

Let me share another anecdote from Carl Medearis from his book ‘Speaking of Jesus – the Art of Not-Evangelism’:

I was teaching a class at the American University of Beirut one day, and after the class, a young man came up to me and asked bluntly if I was a missionary.
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “What makes you think I’m a missionary?”
“You were talking about Jesus earlier,” he said, “and I thought that you were a Christian missionary.”
I held a hand to my forehead, appalled. “Are you saying,” I asked, “that I’m one of those people who wants to spread capitalism and democracy and political idealism and Westernism and import a new religion?”
He looked at me, suspicious. “Well, that is what missionaries do, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said, “typically. Now tell me, do I look like a person who would ever be interested in changing your culture, obliterating your heritage, and making religious converts? Why would I do that? There’s nothing sensible or right about that, is there?”
“Of course not.” He held up his hands. “Look, I didn’t’ mean to offend you, but I just had to ask.”
“Why?”
“Because…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say.
“Because you don’t trust missionaries,” I stated.
He nodded. “Honestly, yes. I thought maybe you had an agenda and I wanted to find out. Sorry if I offended you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Look, if you are interested in anything, just let me know, but don’t worry that I’m here to subvert your culture or anything, because I’m not. My interest in Jesus has nothing to do with religion, okay?”
“All right, Mr Medearis, I’ll see you later.”

If that’s all you knew of Carl, you could misunderstand what he meant. Let me assure you, he is a passionate follower of Jesus indeed, but one who doesn’t insist on wrapping Jesus in extra damaging and distracting cultural layers. That approach doesn’t benefit anyone.

In a telling discussion, Ayatollah Fadlallah (the late spiritual leader of Islamic fundamentalist Hezbollah in Lebanon) said to Brother Andrew (founder of Open Doors):

“You Christians have a problem.”
“What do you think our problem is?”
“You’re not following the life of Jesus Christ anymore.”
“So what do you think we should do about that?”
“You must go back to the Book.”

For us, going ‘back to the Book’ will involve re-reading the Scriptures right now in the context of COVID-19 and Black Lives Matter and humbly asking God how I/you/we’ve been blinded by my/your/our own cultural presuppositions. People talk of a ‘broken’ system. It’s not broken, it’s been designed that way.

In the USA particularly right now (but not just there), the Church has a real challenge finding her voice amidst all the outrage at the murder of George Floyd and the deeply-rooted systemic injustices in almost every sphere of society. As I wrote a decade ago in my book ‘More Than Conquerors’:

We are part of the system and share in its complicity. Desmond Tutu said: “I am not interested in picking up crumbs of compassion thrown from the table of someone who considers himself to be my master. I want the full menu of rights. If you’re neutral in situations of injustice, you’ve chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you’re neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”

Mahatma Gandhi’s comment on the Book to a group of missionaries rings as equally challenging today as it did back then: “You Christians look after a document containing enough dynamite to blow all civilisation to pieces, turn the world upside down and bring peace to a battle-torn planet. But you treat it as though it is nothing more than a piece of literature.”

The Rev. Pattison, a respected friend of Gandhi, recounted how one Sunday morning Gandhi decided to visit one of the Christian churches in Calcutta. As he tried to enter the church sanctuary, the ushers blocked his path. They told him he wasn’t welcome, nor would he ever be allowed to attend this particular church because it was only for high-caste Indians and whites. He was neither high caste, nor white. As a result of that single event, Gandhi rejected the Christian faith, and never again considered the claims of Christ. He was turned off by the sin of segregation that was practiced by the church, and that experience of rejection prompted his declaration: “I’d be a Christian if it were not for the Christians.”

Tragic…

Mother Teresa was 85-years-old when she was invited to address the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington, D.C. This frail old lady, dressed as ever in her simple cheap clothing, passionately and eloquently called on the powerful luminaries gathered around her to enshrine the protection of unborn babies in law. She pleaded for compassion on behalf of the ‘little ones’: “How can we speak out against violence, when we are the most brutal with the most defenseless?”

It was obviously a controversial and sensitive subject, and many of the media elite spoke of that awkward moment for the President Clinton, Vice-President Gore, and their wives as this humble diminutive lady spoke with such conviction. As she stood down, the audience gave a roaring standing ovation. However, a number of people, who were seated on the stage, very ostentatiously chose not to stand up, in obvious disagreement with what she’d said.

Afterwards, President Clinton was asked in an interview what he thought of Mother Teresa’s pointed message. He paused and said only this: “It is very difficult to argue against a life so beautifully lived.” He was wise to keep his words to a minimum, because he recognized that all the arguments supporting his opinion about her words were irrelevant at that time. Anything he said would only reflect his attitude toward Mother Teresa the person; and in the presence of a life well lived, he was no longer responding to an issue at hand, but to a person in front of him.

Jesus was the supreme example of a life well-lived. Indeed, he was and is the Life. He shows us the way – indeed He is the Way. He shows us the truth. Indeed He is the Truth. And we can remain hopeful because He is the Resurrection.

So we find ourselves at a critical, long-overdue moment – one full of noise, anger, and indignation. How will we respond? What/Who are we passing on to our children? Will we maintain our neutrality between the elephant and the mouse? There are many more big questions to grapple with…

May God help all of us to listen humbly, to learn important lessons, and to look forward in hope, committed to embracing the cost of authentic faith, whether we reject all labels, or proudly call ourselves Christians, transformational engineers, or followers of Jesus…


PS The above has resonated with many but alienated others, as showed in private or public comments on different platforms. Some people I care deeply about have misunderstood what I’m trying to express and been offended. To them I simply ask that they re-read it, without interpreting extra layers of meaning which I’m not intending. Apologies for where it simply hasn’t been well-expressed. Of course I’m still a Christian(!), and orthodox too, as we would both probably agree on defining. But ‘judgment begins at the house of God’, so asking painful questions, re-evaluating, and maintaining a stance of humility (and repentance where appropriate) are pre-requisites to our discipleship journey.

Click here for Why I’m No Longer a Christian… Part 2

General

This is an interview I just did with Wes Poirot. Some interviews are a bit of a waste of time, but his questions were brilliant and I do think this is worth a listen. Here goes:

And If you’ve got teenage kids (we watch his daily short video as a family over breakfast), why don’t you subscribe and get a daily discipleship shot in the arm together, we’ve loved it. Subscribe here.

AboutGeneralSermons

A few years ago, Fenn Chapman, a 16-year-old from Rugby School, flogged some techy gear to raise some money, and then flew to the Bahamas during term-time. Reporters got wind of it and knew it would make a good story. One of them eventually tracked him down on the beach and asked Fenn why he did it. Fenn replied: “I started thinking about the rest of my life: university, a job, buying a car, getting married, a mortgage, and then dying. I thought there had to be something more to life than this. So I had to get away for a while and think things through.”

That’s a question worth asking…

This is a short talk I was asked to do for a network of schools for their chapel/assembly. I tell two quick stories and then ask three questions. 

You can download the mp4 video here. This will take you to a Vimeo page. Click the Download button and choose the HD 720p version if you plan to show it using Zoom etc.

It’s very short. I’d love it to be used in dozens/hundreds of schools, so do pass it to any school teacher/connection who think might use it – teachers are crying out for resources during lockdown right now, for Religious Education classes, assemblies, etc.

Have a great day, grace and peace to you!

GeneralGLO

I’ve been reflecting on the events of 2015 in Burundi as we’ve re-entered a very different type of lockdown with COVID-19.

In 2015, it was election violence which led to our spending time hunkered down at home, rather than today’s threat of an invisible virus. We were not told to stay at home, but common sense dictated when it would be foolish to go outside. Youths put rocks fifty yards up our road to stop any vehicles passing. Another 200 yards away at the main intersection, trees were felled, and a barricade was set on fire.

Those seeking regime change wanted to stop all business. They wanted the country to grind to a halt to force change. I could walk out and chat to them. It was often peaceable. But there was sporadic shooting. Youths manned these barricades, but would disperse when trucks of policemen arrived and dismantled the former’s attempts at paralysing all road traffic.

Within a week of the crisis, all our key leaders met together and had the holiest meeting of my life. We went around the table, with the sound of gunfire and in sight of a burning roadblock, and counted the cost of active engagement in the crisis. For context, we remembered how after the genocide of 1993, someone wrote a tract entitled ‘Abantu b’Imana bagiye he?’ – ‘Where did the people of God go?’ Essentially in 1993, the Church hunkered down in fear, and failed in Her mandate to stand courageously against the onslaught and violence. Would such a tract be re-written in 2015? Not on our watch! It’s a whole other story, but we set up an informal network called Christian Initiatives for Peace, and got stuck in at every level in terms of engaging in the process and minimising bloodshed. Many stories can’t be retold because of their sensitivity, but it was a privilege to be a part of it, and it is still ongoing.

Amongst friends we had created a Facebook group to warn each other of where the demonstrators were marching, or fleeing from a surge of policemen with their truncheons and guns. “They’re heading up towards King’s School, away from Kibenga!” “They’ll be outside your house in a few minutes!”

They were strange times. There was an intoxicating mix of fear and hope in the air, depending on who you supported. On different days, the pendulum swung on who looked more likely to ‘win’, although what a ‘win’ would look like for whoever was hard to predict.

On one occasion I came across a dead man in the road, with lots of people walking past nonchalantly. But it wasn’t safe to hang around.

It went on for several months. Life has to go on.

Lizzie left our house one afternoon by car with the kids. At the end of our street, a man started removing the rocks blocking the road to let her go through. Another man came and smashed him in the face, and put the rocks back. Lizzie had to make a judgment call as to whether he’d do the same to her. She reasoned not. So she got out of the car, flexed her muscles like a superhero in front of the kids to diffuse their fear and try to make light of it, and removed the rocks. She drove through and no harm came of them.

A few days later, our kids were at a friend’s house. She heard a commotion on the street outside, and went to investigate. Demonstrating youths were running in panic past her house up the road, as a wave of policemen chased after them. Four sisters were lagging behind. She beckoned them in, and the first two made it easily. The third was grabbed by her T-shirt and had it yanked off, but made it in. The last one was too late, and was led away. Shots were fired on the street and our friend was told to open the gate, but she refused. These young women were screaming in panic and fear at the fate of their little sister as they interrupted our kids who were playing a board game with their friends in the relative sanctuary of the living room.

As the situation deteriorated, of course on one level I wanted to get the family out of the country. In particular, I didn’t want to risk the children experiencing anything that would cause long-term trauma (or worse). But I also knew as one of the ‘old guard’ that if we left, others would probably follow suit. We’re called to choose faith over fear, so our choice was to stay.

Then Josiah, who was five at the time, swallowed some popcorn awkwardly. He choked, and immediately his breathing became restricted and husky. We drove him past the barricades to an American paediatrician, who quickly made a diagnosis and said he needed a bronchoscopy to remove the kernel from Josiah’s lung – this couldn’t be performed in-country. So Lizzie and the kids took the next available outbound flight three days later. She had time to pack things up, the kids said their goodbyes to their buddies, and off they all went, much to my relief.

Thousands of people around the world were praying for Josiah at this point. Once back in the UK, ten days after he’d swallowed the popcorn kernel into his lung and the day before the invasive operation, he coughed and spluttered and out it came! The operation was no longer needed. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH, LORD!

An attempted coup failed. Things got a lot worse, and many people suffered terribly. I remember sitting in a café, losing my battle to hold back the tears, knowing that millions of lives in the nation were being negatively affected and that the fallout and damage would last for years. Most people were truly frightened, and legitimately so. Their future was utterly uncertain.

The economy was decimated. About half the national budget was foreign aid, and almost all of it was pulled by the international community as they sought to pressurise the regime into standing down. Can you imagine our GDP being halved overnight? It beggars belief. And the outworking was very close to home. For example, our conference centre had 53 employees, and we’d had to let go 30 of them immediately. That wasn’t a number to me, it was friends who had wives/husbands and children to feed. What would happen to them now? I wept. Beautifully, even though they were totally strapped for cash due to crippling rises in food prices, the remaining staff members clubbed together and decided to tithe their money to create a fund for those who had lost their jobs.

Heroic. Sacrificial. Resilient.

I was praying with some Burundian brothers, and one of them prayed: “Thank you Lord that all our hope is gone.” I was thinking what a crazy prayer that was, but then he carried on: “We have nothing left now but you.”

Reminiscences over, now to today.

As I write, there have been just a few cases of coronavirus officially acknowledged, but public meetings, league football matches and packed church services are still taking place. It’s difficult to know what approach would be best for Burundi. Today’s article in the Telegraph highlights some of the issues. Social-distancing measures as recommended in the West simply cannot work in the same way in what is one of (if not) the most densely-populated countries in Africa. And you cannot force people to stay at home when they will only eat based on what they earn today, which is the case for many folks. There have been some alarming food price increases, which is a matter of life and death in itself. Talking to folks on the ground, some people are thinking everything is fine, whilst others are extremely frightened.

The elections are due to take place on 20th May, and everything will be done to make sure they go ahead as planned. Election cycles are often accompanied by spikes in violence, but the State has no doubt learned lessons from 2015 and won’t allow similar events to happen. In any case, the opposition is very splintered and weakened.

I’m not going to say more on the political situation, but there is much to pray into:

  • May COVID-19 not spread and devastate the nation.
  • May the Government have wisdom in managing the crisis.
  • May food prices not further sky-rocket for what is already the hungriest nation in the world.
  • May bloodshed be avoided in the upcoming elections.
  • May the elections be truly free and fair, without intimidation.
  • May it be a new dawn for Burundi, against all odds.

And how might those reminiscences speak into our own situation in 2020, in Burundi, in the UK, USA, wherever?

  • God is still on His throne – it might not look like it always, but He is. Trust Him through thick and thin. The cliché applies: we don’t know what the future holds but we know Who holds the future. Let’s humble ourselves and pray – really pray! We had so many crazy answers to prayer in 2015 in the darkest of times.
  • Share your hope. Be positive. Encourage. Everyone can do with a bit more hope, positivity and encouragement.
  • This too will pass – The painful truth is that there will be future ‘COVID-19’-style crises in our lives, personally and/or (inter)nationally. God never promised us an easy journey, just a safe arrival. Burundians have developed such beautiful resilience through relentless trials. We can too.
  • Choose faith over fear – ‘When fear comes knocking at your door, let faith answer it!’
  • Learn whatever lessons you need to during this great shakedown. Let’s not go back to all the same (bad) habits once we’ve got through this.
General

Sometimes I’m a seriously slow learner.

I was speaking a couple of weeks ago in Bujumbura from Hebrews 12 and running the race with/for God. In the front row, I spotted one of Burundi’s heroes, Charles Nkazamyampi. He’s become a good friend over the last few years. I love what he does, using his fame as a vehicle for reconciliation and forgiveness around the country. So I took the opportunity to have a race against him around the church! Who won? Take a look…


Incidentally, he tells some of his remarkable story HERE. Running and getting the silver medal in the 1993 World Championships in Toronto after receiving a phone call informing him his parents had both been murdered and their bodies dumped down a latrine… what can you say to that?

I digress.

Why did I start by saying I’m a slow learner? Because I’ve just recovered from a bout of shingles. Indeed it almost stopped me going to Burundi. I don’t believe God inflicted it on me to teach me a lesson, but I do believe there was a lesson to be learned in getting shingles. They hit me on the back of speaking 27 times during the previous 18 days, which included blasting all over Scotland, the South West, London, Norfolk and more.

Communicating is my passion, my life-calling. But as Charles modelled in his successful running career, you have to pace yourself. Don’t lag behind or run too fast. “Keep in step with the Spirit!” (Galatians 5:25) I was like the person that Brother Lawrence wrote about who was full of good intentions, but who ‘wants to go faster than grace allows’.

I wouldn’t wish shingles on anyone, although thankfully we got the meds on it quickly so it didn’t spread too much.

Anyone else treating the 10 Commandments (or some of them) like the 10 Suggestions? We take some of them very seriously, and others not so seriously. Honestly, the one about Sabbath rest I was functionally treating as optional.

So hopefully I’ve learnt a pretty fundamental life-lesson this last month. And if that’s the case, then thank you shingles, begrudgingly, for slowing me down and helping me recalibrate my pace for the long haul.

May you not have to learn that lesson the hard way! 

And then lastly, for your amusement/revulsion, here’s a quick clip of my end-state after my message during the response time!

GeneralGLOInspiration

Ten Things

TED/MAP talk in North Carolina at New Wineskins Conference

Hello, my name is Simon Guillebaud. I’ve recently completed 20 years working in Burundi, a conflict zone in Central Africa, and one of the most beautiful but broken countries on the planet. That’ll do on introduction, time is short. This TED/MAP talk is just 15 minutes to share my top ten lessons from two decades of cross-cultural work – isn’t that an impossible task? I’ll try.

So I’m picturing Paul in his cell in Rome, and he’s about to be led away to have his head chopped off (he probably died that way). He’s been told he’s got 15 minutes with one person of his choice, and he’s chosen a passionate young mentee (let’s call him/her) Jo – that’s you – and he’s downloading the most important life-lessons from his adventures he can think of. He’s got to be quick, they’re coming soon. He’s talking fast, and so am I. Are you ready? Write this down, Jo!

Here are my ten top life-lessons from two decades of working in Burundi:

It’s all about…

1) …grace – A young lady recently started working for our charity, Great Lakes Outreach, in Burundi. She was found down a toilet where her mother dumped her after giving birth. Someone saw this discarded piece of flesh in the filth, reached down, and picked her up. They cleaned her off and got poo on themselves in the process. She was still alive, was fed through a straw like a little bird, weighing just a few pounds. My friend who adopted her gave her the most beautiful girl’s name. When I married my wife Lizzie, I said to her that if ever we were blessed to have a daughter, I’d like to name her after that girl. So they share the same name. Grace!

The start of her life is a picture of the gospel, our message, the bedrock of our lives – it doesn’t matter whether we’re multi-murdering, raping, pillaging idiots in Central Africa or self-absorbed people in America (UK, wherever), all of us need God’s grace. And He in Christ reaches down from heaven to earth, bridges the chasm, picks us up, cleans us off, takes our filth on Him, and says to you and to me: “You’re my beautiful child. I love you this much (arms stretched out wide on the cross), now come, live for me!” That’s grace, and that’s our message. You can’t earn it, you just live in response to it. May that underpin everything we do. It’s all about grace, so let’s live grace-fully.

2) …gratitude – This is linked to grace, but building further on it. I had a man come to my house with a grenade to blow me up. He’d written me a letter saying he was going to cut out my eyes. Was that a fun experience? No, but it was one of the most defining experiences of my life. Let me tell you why:

Faced with the imminent prospect of losing these two little things (my eyes), let alone my life, I was consciously grateful for the first time for the gift of eyesight – which is a gift, not a right. Your challenge is that you live in an entitled culture and we are an entitled generation. It’s all about our rights. The best gift Burundi has given me is the gift of gratitude. Nothing is a right, everything is a gift. Food, health, education, security, friends, family, clean water, the list goes on. When I’m tempted to be self-pitying or thinking I’ve had a hard lot in life, I list off all those gifts. It’s a game-changer! Stop complaining. Don’t take anything for granted. Be grateful. Grateful people make happy people. You’ll be nicer to live alongside and therefore more effective in your work.

3) …humility – We usually think our culture is the best. We are so wrong! There is so much wrong with our greedy, individualistic, consumerist (I could go on) respective Western cultures. There is so much richness in our host cultures, because every culture has good and bad in it. Dig for the gems. Learn the language, the proverbs, the stories. Listen, listen, listen! Don’t criticize. For example, the African says to the American/Brit/etc: “You have watches, we have time!” They might just be late for your meeting because someone was dying on the side of the road as they came to meet you. How dare I arrogantly reproach them for their lateness, their ‘African time’, when they did ‘the Good Samaritan’ whilst I would have walked on by to honour my punctuality proudly whilst leaving someone to die…? Seriously? People are more important than schedules, aren’t they? Humility, humility, humility.

4) …relationship – One of my life mantras is ‘Everything is about relationship’. You can’t microwave or fast-track friendship and trust. Spend time with people. An African proverb says: “If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together.”

In 2015, Burundi teetered on the edge of total implosion. It’s too politically sensitive to go into details, but we had the holiest meeting of my life with our key leaders. Were we willing to stand up and preach non-violence, forgiveness, and dialogue, when the Church at large had completely gone to ground in fear? Yes, on somber reflection, we were. But how could we do that and be effective? Because the context of our relationships was that we had been meeting monthly for breakfast for five years together, so we loved and trusted each other. Honestly, it was amazing. We counted the cost. Thankfully nobody died in our team, but we were ready.

It’s all about relationship, so live connected, invest the time, be patient, seek out and embrace genuine accountability with key folk, and you’ll go far together

5) …people – People, not stuff. Please care more for the folks you aim to come alongside than for your possessions. Live more simply. People, not stuff, and then people, not pets. The biggest criticism of missionaries has often been that they show more love for their pets than the people around them.

Maybe I’ll say more on this in the Q&A, but as far as you can, seek to work alongside the best local leaders of passion, integrity, gifting and vision. Our job is to encourage, equip, release. If you back a person of average passion/integrity/gifting/vision, the ceiling is set at mediocrity. Our work was so stunningly fruitful because I had the advantage of living in country and patiently observing and praying, so we were able to identify the best of the best, which meant the sky was the limit in terms of fruitfulness. I’ve lots more to say on that but time is ticking.

6) …patience – Rome wasn’t built in a day. When God wants to make a delicate mushroom, he does it overnight; but when he wants to make an sturdy oak, he takes decades. We want long-term fruit. Don’t over-estimate what you can do in one year, but don’t underestimate what you can do in ten. I look back and am blown away at what we’ve been able to do by God’s grace. But in any given one-year time-frame, I might have felt discouraged and overwhelmed, and not seen much obvious progress. Short-term missions have their place, but let’s be realistic on what can be accomplished in anything less than chunkier time-frames.

7) …now!  Yes, it’s all about patience, but it’s also all about now! We want to live urgently. ‘Now is the time of God’s favour, now is the day of salvation.’ I once preached about living ready, being all in, people need saving and rescuing, etc, and two days later, those listeners were killed in a big rebel attack. Our message and mission is urgent. Live like you believe it’s true. Don’t waste time. You’ve got 1,440 minutes today that you’ll never get back again, so use them well. Be focused. Is this activity good use of my time? As C.S.Lewis said: “Anything which isn’t eternal is eternally out of date.”

8) …rhythm – Yes we should live urgently, but we have to work from a place of rest. Work hard and play hard. Don’t try to ‘go faster than grace allows’ (Brother Lawrence). Put first things first, which means being a worshipper before being a worker. Guard the secret place. Seriously. Be very accountable with somebody on this point. Cultivate intimacy with God through meditation, Scripture, prayer, etc, it’s an absolute priority if you want to be built to last. How are you doing on that one?

9) …the Kingdom – Kingdom capital K, or Church capital C. You’ve got your little patch. But remember the picture is so much bigger. Be part of the bigger whole. It’s not a competition. Help others around you. It’s not win/lose or lose/win. Go for win/wins. Their big slice of cake doesn’t mean my slice therefore has to be small. Let’s bake a bigger cake together! I fundamentally believe as you try to help others, God’s grace boomerangs back and smacks you hard in the face!

10) …faith – Choose faith, not fear. There’s lots to make us afraid. But no. Driving along one of the most dangerous roads in the world, my colleague leant across one day, and said to me with a glint in his eye: “Simon, isn’t it exciting, we’re immortal until God calls us home!” He’s right! Perfect love casts our fear. This life won’t last for ever, it’s not our home or end destination. My marriage proposal to Lizzie was: “Are you ready to be a young widow?” That was tested in the 2015 crisis, by this stage with three kids in tow. Fear said leave, but faith said stay, which links in with my next point…

11) …staying – Many years ago, I was on a short-term mission trip to Sao Paolo in Brazil. We went to work with street-children, who were in ample supply – the plan was to rescue 7 million in 3 weeks – I say that somewhat tongue in cheek because having the right expectations is very important. We went to the main square, and I’ve been in much more dangerous situations in Burundi many times over, but this was the most traumatic incident I’ve ever experienced. Fear often comes through not understanding the dynamics at play.

Essentially, we were mugged by a gang of street-children. These weren’t cute little urchins but damaged and dangerous little thieves who survived through knifing people, stealing, etc. One of them about 10-years-old came over to our 6ft4in team leader, cursing and spitting. He pointed at him angrily and spoke with venom and hatred: “You may be big, you may be strong, but there’s only one of you!” And then they attacked us, throwing glass bottles at us, which shattered on the floor around us as we fled and sought police protection.

That night, we processed the experience in the safety of the compound, sat around in a group. I simply wept. I wept that we’d met just a handful of the seven million screwed-up precious little street-children of Brazil. As I cried, the team leader gently came alongside me, put his arm around my shoulder, and said something that has left an indelible mark on me for the rest of my life. In fact, it might have been the one thing I’d traveled all the way to Brazil to learn: “Pity cries, and then goes away… but compassion stays!” That rocked me. I returned a different person, resolved to never walk away.

Jesus chose to ‘stay’, and so must we, to be authentic and consistent with His call on our lives, engaging with people’s pain. But ouch, it can hurt. It can be geographical, but ‘staying’ is more a heart attitude. It’s tempting in the face of so much @£$% that life throws up and all the overwhelming needs we get confronted with, to harden our heart, but no, we insist on staying soft. As Jackie Pullinger said: “God wants us to have soft hearts and hard feet. The trouble with so many of us is that we have hard hearts and soft feet.” Stay soft-hearted, hard-footed. Choose to stay.

12) …communication – It’s not what you say, but what they hear, and therefore understand. Can you hear the difference between gusura and gusura? No you can’t. One means to visit, the other means to fart. Tonal languages are subtle. I want to make sure I’m visiting the government minister and not farting on him!

My friend Vicky’s flashlight broke, so she asked the hospital guard to walk her home, except the word ‘walk’ and ‘have an affair’ are virtually identical in Malagasy. He took her home thinking he’d struck the jackpot, and she had a narrow escape.

One US lady was sharing her testimony in Francophone Africa. She wanted to say in French that her past was divided into two parts. Instead of ‘passé’ she said ‘derrière’ (behind, backside). She went on to say that one part of her butt was black, one part was white, and between the two there was a great chasm!

There are both funny and serious examples, but suffice to say, so many problems come through so many layers of complexity across cultures. Misunderstandings are easy, so tread carefully. Communicate clearly. Choose the right means of communicate. Get folks to state back to you what their understanding is. Two ears, one mouth, listen listen listen! And don’t listen to just one side of any story, it’s never the full picture.

And remember, it’s all about grace, gratitude, humility, relationship, people, patience, now, rhythm, the Kingdom, faith, staying, communication. And there could have been more said on each point or even further points, but that’ll have to do.

Thanks for farting with me, I’ve enjoyed your visit! Go for plenty of walks, avoid having affairs. And may your derriere’s testimony be powerful, leading to many changed lives!

And more seriously, thanks for listening to my talk, which wasn’t quite 15 minutes, or even 10 points as I’d agreed, but that was an unrealistic expectation from an African – and I am indeed a proud African, a Burundian, one of about a dozen white Burundians in the world!

So, if I’m Paul, and you’re Jo, well I can hear the guards’ jangling their keys at the cell door. I’m off to my graduation to glory. Whether it’s by head-chopping, hanging, or feeding to the lions, ‘for me to live is Christ, to die is gain!’ What a privilege! I’ll see you on the other side in due course. Be assured, the call on your life to serve wherever in the world is absolutely worth everything you’ve got. Yes, you’ll definitely receive plenty of sucker punches along the way, but hang in there. It’s totally worth it. I say this, and I know our heavenly Father says it, “I believe you’ve got what it takes to be who He’s called you to be! Get out there, and change the world, one person at a time!”

Amen!