Christmas Letter

It is true what they say about 3 year olds. You can them a great toy, but the thing that holds their interest is the box it came in.

Merry Christmas!! We have been in Christmas mode with vigor the past 3 days. Christmas Eve was spent with Rebecca’s family and the past 2 days with Paul’s. It has definitely felt a bit excessive, at least as far as the food, but that is tempered by the awareness that in 10 days we will get back on a plane to Burundi and not have any of the holiday goodies readily available to us. I think I will be happy to be back on rice and beans for about 2 days before I start missing cookies and breakfast cereal.


It is also sobering to remember that we will not be back for Christmas in the USA for five years! That will be disappointing. Rebecca and I are already wondering what types of Christmas decorations we might take back with us now for Burundi next year. (Rebecca did notice and old artificial tree in storage in our shed in Bujumbura.) So all we need are some lights and ornaments.


It is late, and difficult to find time to write this week with family visiting from out of town, and many wanting to see us in our last 2 weeks. So I am going to take a shortcut here and post our Christmas letter for anyone who is interested. For those of you who follow the blog, there is nothing new, but it does sum up our situation to date.

Rebecca was the author of the letter, fyi.


Dear Family and Friends,

The past six months have offered big challenges for us as we left interesting, comfortable jobs in New York, sold our home, and moved to Burundi (Central Africa) in July. We are now working for a Christian organization called Mennonite Central Committee. Here’s what the organization says about itself: MCC seeks to demonstrate God's love by working among people suffering from poverty, conflict, oppression and natural disaster. MCC serves as a channel for interchange by building mutually transformative relationships. MCC strives for peace, justice and the dignity of all people by sharing our experiences, resources and faith in Jesus Christ.

As a couple, we’re sharing the position of MCC Representatives for Rwanda and Burundi. We oversee the program and take care of a small group of North American volunteers. Much of our work involves our support of local Burundian and Rwandan Christian organizations, doing work on the ground. They are involved in active peace-building and reconciliation work: this part of the world has seen a lot of bloodshed, between the ’94 genocide in Rwanda and 14 years of civil war in Burundi (just ended, we pray!). Our partner organizations are helping divided communities live together, find healing for trauma, and assist people who were once enemies to work together on income-generating projects. We also support a reforestation project and a school for marginalized Batwa (pygmy) children. We’re including details about a Christian organization in Rwanda, Friends Peace House, and their efforts to reconcile released prisoners with survivors of genocide.

On a day to day basis, we meet with partners, help them through the process of writing grants, follow up on their projects, give them funds to carry out their work (in Burundi, that means handling big wads of banknotes) and just talk with them. The greatest joy in this work has involved getting to know people like Onesphore, Delphine, Cassien and Cecile – people who have gone through great tragedy, but have a passionate love for Jesus Christ and a real desire to serve their own people. Running a household in Burundi is a lot more work, so that takes time. We also are studying French (Rebecca) and Kirundi (Paul). We thought Oren might learn some French from his part-time nanny, Denise, but he definitely has a long way to go. He’ll start French-language preschool in January, and sooner or later, we’re sure he’ll be able to understand what’s going on. For a lot more details on the people we’ve met and our impressions, visit our blogsite: pamosley.blogspot.com

One joyful fact has left us feeling a bit like yo-yo’s. We moved to Burundi when Rebecca was 6 months pregnant. Because of the need for a repeat c-section, the recovery afterwards and the very poor state of health care in Burundi, we decided to return to the USA for our second son’s birth. Paul stayed in Burundi a month longer than Rebecca and Oren, doing a ton of travel and scrambling to leave our work in a sustainable place. On October 29, a day after Paul returned to Baltimore, David Henry was delivered according to plan. Imagine exhaustion, jet lag, culture shock, oh, and here’s your new baby! It was a lot to get used to all at once. But David has been such a calm child and a joy to us all. We’re even getting some sleep at night these days. And we are thankful for this unique opportunity for Oren to live in the same town with his grandparents and cousins. We’re all forming important memories that will need to carry us through at least two years of separation.

As we hear daily news from Eastern Congo, just across the border from Burundi, I am thankful once more for who our God is. Jesus chose to be born to an impoverished family in a country under foreign military occupation. As a child, he fled from a massacre in Bethlehem and became a refugee in Egypt. He never used the power of wealth or weapons but paid the ultimate price to demonstrate the power of love and forgiveness. Our God in Jesus thought it was worthwhile to stand with those who suffer, rather than those who cause suffering. And on the cross, he showed us the costly way to live an abundant life, in spite of suffering: to love our enemies as much as our neighbors. He is the kind of God people in our region really need. This is the hard-edged, risky hope of Christmas for us this year.

Workation in Winnipeg

Self portrait en route to Winnipeg, Manitoba.

I used to think that cold weather was a bit like debt--after a certain point, beyond which you cannot pay, what difference does it make whether you are down $50,000 or a million? So as Rebecca and I prepared to go to Winnipeg last week and I looked at the weather forecast the night before we left and it said 25 below zero, I thought, 'well how cold can that feel compared to say 5 or 10 below?' I now have my answer.


It is interesting to see how hard it is to get work done when you are living at home and not going into an office. Or in this case, in the homes of our parents. No one is stopping us, but there is still a great deal of distraction and sort of a sense that we are on leave. Deadlines do continue to come and we were feeling like we needed some time to catch up. The Canadian headquarters of our binational office resides in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Several of our projects in Burundi are under the auspices of several MCC Canada dedicated funds. Since reporting for at least one of them is quite complicated our organization thought it would be a good idea for us to pay them a visit, get some training, and try to catch up on some of our work. We were, in fact, reasonably productive and considered our 4 days away from Baltimore to be a workation of sorts.

We decided to take David but leave Oren with Grandma Jean. Taking him would have been complicated from a childcare perspective, and he would have had to miss his last day in preschool here in the US. They were having a Christmas program as well as goodbye party for Oren. Rebecca and I were sorry to miss that, but Grandma took some photos. Oren was a star (as in twinkle, twinkle) in his program (he had a choice of being a star, a king, or an angel, I believe.) He apparently did quite well. After the program his class gave him a goodbye card and a nice book for a present to remember them. (They knew him well and you can see that the book features some nice pictures of a diesel engine.)

Meanwhile Rebecca and I got up at 5am and drove to the airport this past Monday. We were on time, but our flight left 45 minutes late which meant we missed our connection in Minneapolis. Consequently, our travel day was 7 hours longer than planned and we got to Winnipeg 13 hours after we left Baltimore. (Here is a picture of us in transit. Notice David in the front pack.) David was easy to travel with, and I suppose we can see this as a good test for our trip back to Burundi. (We will be sharing a seat with him for 20 hours at least). We were met at the airport in Winnipeg by Betty who works in the Winnipeg office. I was sorry she had to pick us up so late after hours, and she took us to dinner too--Appleby's (a real Canadian experience). We found out she worked for MCC in Bangladesh, and since Rebecca and I both spent our childhood there, we had a lot to talk about.

The weather: The temp. was about -25 but with the windchill it was -50. We covered every square inch of us to exit the airport and traverse the 10 feet to the awaiting car. I thought my lungs were going to crystallize even for the 30 seconds we were outdoors! Winnipegians plug their cars into an outlet when they are not driving to keep the battery from freezing when it is this cold. All I can say is that I will take the 85-90 degree Burundian days anytime.

Fortunately our hotel was very nice and cozy. Here is a picture of David sitting on the bed. He looks quite content.

For the next two days we had meetings from morning until night. We talked with the program officers for
Generations at Risk--that supports our programs dealing with AIDS education
Global Family--that supports our education programs
Canadian Food Grains Bank--which supports our food security program
Water and Agriculture--which supports one of our water projects
as well as several other individuals who helped us understand better how to write good proposals and properly use our database. (and I thought mission work was going to be a lot more..well... spiritual, honestly)

We also had absolutely no time for sightseeing or anything touristy while we there. I did try to take a picture of a street scene to capture the look of the cold weather. This is a view from our hotel window. Not too interesting, but it is the most we saw the whole time we were there. We did eat some good Indian and Thai food for dinner on Tuesday and Wednesday.

The time spent, though was very valuable and David was a huge hit and enjoyed being carried around the office by most everyone. He seems to like the attention.

We returned to Baltimore on Thursday (leaving again at 4:30 am this time). The flight back was much quicker as we had no bad weather or missed connections.

We were going to try to go to Poughkeepsie the following day, but all 4 of us have come down with a horrible cold that is making us miserable, we did not think we could make one more long trip without a rest. That is too bad for us since I fear this was our last chance to get up there before we go back to Burundi on January 6th. The reality of returning for several years is really beginning to dawn on us and we are trying to think of everything we will need to get before we go. Things we need include prescription and over the counter drugs, as well as spare camera batteries, jumper cables, etc. I might even take a hammer.... Then of course there is everything one needs for a newborn--stroller, carseat, pack and play, etc. AND we still only have a 2 bag per person limit.

Being sick has given me a lot of time to read the news on the internet. I have to say that I am very concerned about the situation in Congo which sounds like it might turn into another regional war. General Nkunda is really digging in in Eastern Congo and seems to have his eye on overthrowing the government of Congo. Please pray for peace. This would have a grave affect on us in Burundi as it is just across the border, and the whole situation continues to be a nightmare for the people living in or fleeing from Congo.

On a lighter note, I also read on a friend's blog (Isaac who is staying at our house in Burundi) that Starbucks is now serving Burundian coffee! This is great news for Burundi as they desperately need to have some good export products. Please buy Burundian coffee when you are at Starbucks and say a prayer for us when you drink it. Here is a description from the Starbucks website:

Burundi Kayanza
Juicy with herbal blackberry notes and tea-like flavors, this is a coffee unlike any African single-origin offering we’ve ever tasted. The microclimate of Burundi’s rugged Kayanza Ridge is an ideal setting for farmers to grow this amazing coffee. Each farmer tends a small patch of just 50 to 250 coffee trees, making this a truly rare and special bean.

Key term: Intense

Geography is a flavor You can tell a lot about a coffee if you know where it’s from. Coffees from Africa are remarkable for their floral aromas and citrusy tastes.

Isaac, our faithful housesitter has also been giving us regular but increasingly alarming reports about breakdowns of appliances, water heaters, housestaff, and now a severe cooking gas and deisel fuel shortage. In short, I am anxious to get back, but really quite apprehensive about what we will find.

This week we are trying to send out Christmas letters and gifts. Rebecca will be preaching next Sunday so she is trying to prepare a sermon. I believe she will be using part of Jeremiah 31 and sharing on the Herod's slaughter of the innocents. Some things really have tragically not changed in the past 2000 years.

When did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked?

I have been back in the US for over a month now and still have about 3 and a half weeks to go. It does feel like a kind of limbo. Not that I do not enjoy it here, embraced by the incredible love and hospitality shown to us by everyone! But I find myself reading news reports (obsessively) about Congo and Rwanda and Burundi. I do feel disconnected from here in an odd way--like this is not my home. It is hard to believe that one can experience a kind of cultural trauma after being in a place for even a short time. The contrasts are particularly poignant in returning to this land of abundance during the holiday season. I know that the economic times are bad right now, but the desperation here does not offend (yet) in the way it does on the streets of Bujumbura. Is there poverty, desperation, disease, squallor, here? Absolutely. --but it is hidden better, legislated off of our sidewalks and neighborhoods, and presented as an only-mildly-offensive bell-ringing Santa who stands at the exits of our supermarkets. I wonder if the latest cycle of economic bad news will swell the walls to the point of bursting? Will that poverty spill out onto the streets of suburbia? Would that soften our hearts? or harden us more?

I spent this past week in Cleveland Ohio. Oren and I took a road trip there to bring Oren's cousin Fletcher back to his parents--my brother Jonathan and his wife Emma. I spent several days with them. Jonathan is finishing an MD/PhD program at Case Western and he is in the process of interviewing for a place to do his residency. Emma finished her PhD and does research in the field of sleep deprivation (I think). They will need to leave Cleveland, most likely, and the prospect is daunting. Their neighborhood is the poster-child of the national housing crisis. At a glance it is a lovely block of charming, older housing stock, in quite good condition. On closer inspection there are for sale signs everywhere, but then, when you look in the windows of most of the other houses, the rooms are empty. Jonathan told me that almost all of the houses on the block are for sale of foreclosed. The for sale signs for most are long gone. Houses have lost more than half their value, and in fact can't be sold at all because of the state of the neighborhood. When they leave, they will only take a huge loss if they are lucky. At worst, they may not be able to sell it at all.

He has told me the biggest problem right now is theft! Apparently there have been numerous break-ins into the abandon houses to steal all the copper plumbing! A house without plumbing, in an already blighted neighborhood is not a real selling point even at a bargain price. Jonathan has told me that the few remaining neighbors, including them, usually park one of their cars in the drive of an abandoned house next door. It has the benefit of providing additional off road parking, AND gives the illusion that there are more people in the neighborhood than there actually are.

Our visit was, despite all of this, quite cheery. Oren and Fletcher had a great time playing together. (Fletcher has a nice train set.) They also visited the indoor exhibits at the Zoo, the Botanical Garden, and the Museum of Natural History. It was bitter cold and snowy for much of the time we were there so Fletcher and Oren did a lot of running around in all of these places. Fortunately there were not many visitors on Tues, Wed and Thurs. morning, so they did not wreck too much havoc. On our last evening, we ate at Skyline Chili (famous for Cincinnati chili) before heading our on Friday. The trip back was uneventful except that Oren did not sleep for the first 7 hours 10 minutes of the 7 and a half hour drive, and wanted a constant stream of snacks and stories. He fell fast asleep as we turned onto the Baltimore beltway.

It was good to be back with Rebecca and David again. They did well, even in our absence. David had his doctor visit and had to get his first of a series of many shots. Rebecca described his reaction as pretty awful. Like he had not known that pain existed until that moment. But he is happy as a clam now and even smiles now when he is happy. It is amazing how soon personality begins to emerge.


We have been communicating quite a bit with partners and friends in Burundi, some strategic plans and progress reports are due. Our Congolese partners have been writing us about the desperate situation there and have been asking for emergency food aid for refugees. If you have been keeping up with the news, you know that the situation seems to be grim and not getting better any time soon.

I also received an email from a good friend and someone I have been honored to come to know in Burundi: Simon Guillebaud. He and his wife Lizzie have been working in Burundi with Great Lakes Outreach for 10 years (their family picture is here). He evangelizes, raises money and works tirelessly for many excellent charities in Burundi. They are part of the church we go to and our Bible study as well. They also have two kids close to the age of Oren and now David. I have great respect for Simon and he seems to be known by most everyone here. He keeps many people up to date with prayer letters, and I was convicted by the last one he sent. I can identify very well with the impulse he felt, to look away from the face of desperation, but knowing that that is not what we are called to do. I am going to post his letter here for you to read. It is not a letter of holiday cheer, but perhaps it may motivate you, as it did me, to see beyond the veneer of good tidings, at the need that surrounds us. This is a season that celebrates, at its best, our spirit of generosity. Don't let the prospect of hard economic times take that away. I can assure you, if you are reading this blog, that you are better off than 'Sam' in this email. This is not a call for funds, but an invitation to examine your hearts this season:


PRAYER LETTER NO.59 11th December 2008
www.greatlakesoutreach.org

Christians have bumper stickers and catch phrases.
Believers have creeds and promises.
Disciples have scars and stories.


Dear Team,
I’m feeling raw. I want to share that rawness with you, so apologies in advance if the jumbled thoughts lack coherence, but please feel the anguish with me:

Today’s my prayer day. There’s a half-built cathedral a hundred yards from my office, so I often go there, take my shoes off, and stomp up and down praying in the cool and quiet. After about an hour, this young lady interrupted me. Now you have to understand, I spend my life out here getting asked for money. It’s relentless and draining to deal with. So I thought to myself, whilst ‘in the Spirit’, as she approached me: “Just go away, leave me alone, can’t you see I’m praying? Don’t you dare ask me for money!”

Her lips were quivering. She was dressed reasonably well, but she looked rough with beads of perspiration on her nose. I could tell she was scared to approach me. But she was also desperate, and desperation triumphed over her fear as she tentatively but boldly broke in on my special time with God.

Now hear me, I’m compassionate. I feel people’s pain. I do care, and I vote with my feet by going and giving, crying and caring. But I still thought: “Oh God, please, can’t she just leave us alone together? I’ve had enough! Of course she’s in need, but there are thousands of people in need. I can’t give to everyone. Surely I can tell her to go away?”

“No, give her a chance, just a few minutes, listen to her story, give her some dignity.”

So I did. Sam told me she was feeling terrible. She’d just gone for an AIDS test, to confirm the almost inevitable. She’d already been kicked out of her family and is 4-months pregnant through a boyfriend who loves her but wants her to have an abortion. She talked of a wound that would never heal, and eventually showed it to me. It was disgusting! She peeled back her trouser leg to reveal an oozing puss-filled mess from above her ankle to below her knee. She could hardly walk. She’d had a motorbike accident the previous week, her back was sore, and she wanted to do an ultrasound to see if the baby was still alive.

Apart from feeling angry that my precious time with God had been interrupted, a number of other thoughts were going through my mind. I was asking God whilst she spoke if He wanted me to intervene. Or should I just pray for her? That’s what I wanted to do, because then I could get back to my prayer time. But then I thought of one of my sermons last summer, which included the true story of a pastor who was too busy for a homeless lady who’d asked him to help her, so he fobbed her off with a promise to pray for her instead. She wrote this poem and gave it to a local Shelter officer:

I was hungry, And you formed a humanities group to discuss my hunger.
I was imprisoned, And you crept off quietly to your chapel and prayed for my release.
I was naked, And in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance.
I was sick, And you knelt and thanked God for your health.
I was homeless, And you preached a sermon on the spiritual shelter of the love of God.
I was lonely, And you left me alone to pray for me.
You seem so holy, so close to God
But I am still very hungry – and lonely – and cold.

Ouch! So, Simon, are you going to practice what you preach?

“She’s my daughter, Simon, in obvious pain, in a worse state than you’ve ever been, and all she’s asking for is $10.”

She carried on pouring out her woes. I carried on thinking as she spoke. She’s messed up. It’s her own fault. She shouldn’t have got herself pregnant. Why didn’t she use a condom at the very least, especially if she has AIDS? That baby’s going to be born into a hell of a life. How irresponsible! She’s reaping what she sowed. I’m sorry, but we’re all responsible for our actions…

“Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

Did you stay chaste until you got married, or are you still a virgin, waiting to get married? If so, well done! I mean it. That’s truly special.

But for most of us, there’s no way we can cast the first stone. I can’t. All it takes is one time, to get pregnant or to catch AIDS…

It could have been me. It could have been you.

But it’s not, thank God.

At least Sam wants to keep the baby, although she’s being pressured to have an abortion. She’s a victim in this – yes, she’s guilty before a holy God, as we all are – but right now she needs love, dignity, acceptance.

I asked if I could pray with her, and shared the love and hope of Jesus. She didn’t need to be told she was a sinner. She did need to know that it wasn’t too late for her to turn. She decided to turn, and repeated a prayer after me. Maybe it was just to please me. I hope not. God knows. That’s between the two of them.

I gave her $10. I wanted to cry, but settled for a sad sigh.

So can we agree to pray about this?

• for Sam, that when she comes back to see me tomorrow, she’ll be able to tell me she’s not got AIDS, she’s embracing a fresh start with Jesus, the baby’s still alive and kicking, and that her story will have a redemptive ending.
• for me, that God would forgive my bad attitude, that my heart will remain soft, and that I’ll be Jesus’ hands and feet out here in Burundi, rather than just talking a good game.
• for you – what should we pray? Be assured that however hard you have been squeezed by the credit crunch, things are not that bad. It’s a question of perspective. You’re still probably near the top of the pile; you’ve just allowed yourself to be deceived into thinking that so many luxuries in your life are needs.

We can’t change the millions of Sams, but we can all do our bit. Will you do your bit, will you care in a way that costs you? As God has made us in his image, have we gone and returned the favour? Maybe there’s some serious repenting we need to do…

But as Christmas approaches, it’s not too late to choose to believe – maybe for the first time – in the radical incarnate message of Jesus, rather than being sucked into the consumerist lie. And not just to believe it’s true, but to act out the truth of that belief. Not out of guilt, but out of gratitude. He did so much for me, I’m thrilled to be his. Sign me up! The Christmas story involves scars, not bumper stickers or slogans.

I said at the start I was feeling raw, so there’s the raw challenge. Your call. I’ll pray for you as you pray for me.

Here’s to Christmas scars, from the stable to the cross, or wherever our journey with him leads us,

Simon Guillebaud
Great Lakes Outreach

The Spiritual life and Phases of 3

My brother Mark holding David Henry.

The most interesting question I was asked this week was this: “What is the state of your spiritual life since you have been in Burundi?” The interlocutor was my brother Mark, who lives with his family in North Carolina but visited us last week in Baltimore for Thanksgiving. I will come back to this later.

The week began with a trip to Hyattesville Maryland where I was invited to preach at a Mennonite Church. I went alone as it was logistically complicated to get Oren and David there and have them sit quietly while Rebecca and I preached. The trip was challenging in an American way (as opposed to Burundian) namely—sleet and rain. It was a long trip to boot, down by Washington DC. The most challenging part was the GPS in the borrowed car. I had mapped out a root that the talking GPS system opposed adamantly right up to the last mile. It constantly insisted that I turn when I wanted to go straight and to continue on when I wanted to turn. (For any pastors reading this, I think the GPS persistently trying to lead me astray would make a great sermon illustration, feel free to use it!)

I did get there eventually, and felt that I had overcome a test. I felt the worst was behind me…until I found out the mother of the MCC Director of International Programs (my boss) was a member of the congregation. Seriously though, it went very well and the Ezekiel sermon I shared (and transcribed on a previous blog) was well received. It has meant a lot to be able to share our experience with different churches.

After the service many people expressed their appreciation, but I was particularly moved by one man who came up afterward and told me I had really hit the nail on the head. He was obviously African. He identified himself as a Congolese tutsi. He quoted back to me the passage in the sermon where I said:

“Development needs to go hand in hand with a transformative ideology. A gospel that offers hope for the future, stands against injustice and offers to individuals and society, healing of malformed, divisive identities. Identities like tutsi, hutu, slave, free, white, black, even Catholic, and Protestant. By malformed identities, I mean identities that uphold the lie (the lie that underlies all other lies): that some people are more valuable than others.”

He completely upheld this proposition: that development must be preceeded by a gospel that heals and transforms individuals, NOT first and foremost material aid. He confessed to me that ethnic prejudice ran so deep in his community that a Hutu would not even be let into a compound or household of a Tutsi--certainly never for a meal. He said they were regarded as worthless and ignorant. I was surprised by his candor and his willingness to share this with me. I wish I could have come to know him better, and maybe I will see him again. He is living in DC now, I believe, but much of his family is still in Congo.

Other people I talked to afterwards shared their own experiences and several were planning trips to Rwanda for various reasons.

Monday through Wednesday Rebecca and I made heroic efforts to try to catch up on work. Many of our partners sent us progress reports this past month and we needed to enter them in a database. Since most are in French we set up a system where I would read and translate them out loud to Rebecca so she could enter them into the database while editing and making the English sound sensible. The system worked fairly well, allowing for feedings for David, taking Oren to nursery school, and numerous other interruptions.

We continued to have visitors throughout the week, wanting to say a last hello and goodbye, and the schedule for this last month is daunting. Cleveland, Poughkeepsie, Winnepeg, back to Baltimore and a stop to the Maryland shore for New Years. We really do want to see everyone, and realize the next leaving is far more significant than the last. The earliest we would be back is 2 and a half years from now, and that would be for a short furlough. I think I feel most sad about Oren and David not being with Grandparents. It has been good to have them giving them so much attention.

Cousins would also be a real loss. I am including pictures of David and Oren here with several of their cousins. Gabriel loves little David and here is lying on top of him. Oren and Fletcher are about the same age and have been having a ball with each other as well at my parents’ house.

Oren is in what I would call a ‘contrarion’ phase of 3. Basically if you say yes, he says no, and vice versa. In order to get him to do something I literally have to tell him he cannot do it, and he does it immediately. (Oren, don’t put on your coat, you may NOT eat your broccoli, etc, etc.) The extreme case came when we had to go to the Travel Clinic to get some vaccinations for Burundi. As it turned out I needed to get a shot, but Oren did not. When I told him he would not have to get one, he threw a screaming tantrum insisting that he wanted a shot too, as I dragged him out the door. I am told this too will pass.

On a doctor visit the following day, Oren was somewhat better and we took him to see the giant statue of Jesus in the Johns Hopkins Hospital original entrance. It was probably most meaningful to me because I remember being a 3 year old in Baltimore when my father was a resident at the hospital. We would come and visit him and I would marvel at the statue, it is huge to a 3 year old (especially the toes!) Oren was duly impressed and said it looked like a giant monster Jesus.

Last night Rebecca and I actually had a ‘date night’—which means going out with only one child, not two at this time. We went out contra-dancing—something we loved to do when we had the chance in Poughkeepsie. It is a type of folk dancing which gave rise to American square dancing. It is challenging, and frequented by delightfully eccentric people. I am taking advantage of our American high speed internet connection to post a brief video. (Sorry folks reading in Burundi!) Rebecca is in the maroon shirt. Oh, by the way, David was with us, and did not care to be left observing in the carseat, so I strapped onto my chest with the Baby Bjorn and he danced along with us. He seemed to like the motion and usually cried when we stopped.

So coming back to the original question: How is your spiritual life? The reason I found this question so interesting, I suppose, is because of the question Mark did not ask me about Burundi, that everyone else does— Is it safe there? But interestingly enough I feel like I could answer both questions the same way. As I look back on our work there, and what we are going to be returning to, I am aware that there is a tremendous temptation to do our work ‘in our own strength’, and put God on the sidelines. There are many secular NGO’s and many dedicated non-Christians who go to work in these countries. For me, the real danger is not physical, but spiritual. I think in the face of overwhelming suffering, it is easy to turn away from, rather than toward God. …to want to dig in with both hands, throw yourself into your job, and not be growing closer to the Lord, but rather spending less and less time in prayer, and seeking his will. That is what I fear could happen. For anyone who thinks that missionaries are super-spiritual, don’t be fooled, walking with the Lord is a daily challenge and it is just as easy in a mission situation, to stray away, into ego, defensiveness, spiritual sloth, and pride as it is here in the land of plenty.

It was good to be asked about this, and to feel a need to be accountable.

Here is the contradance video if you have the bandwidth to watch it.

Thanksgiving

Our new MCC family picture. I thought they did a nice job. Let us know if you want a new card.

Last week Rebecca and I were in the middle of a road trip to Poughkeepsie, New York where we had spent the last 5 years of our lives. It was a whirlwind tour of our closest friends and we did it, in my opinion, almost perfectly. We actually saw most everyone we were hoping to see. Granted some of the stops were shorter than we would have liked, but it was still a blessing to see old friends. One thing that was particularly moving for me was the number of people who said they kept up with us regularly on this blog! We really feel loved and cared for.

I had listed some of our itinerary last week, but among the highlights this week were:

1. Speaking to our church for a few minutes on Sunday. It was Laity Sunday and we were asked to share a bit about our tme in Burundi in the context of what we were Thankful for. Rebecca shared a bit about our colleague Zachee who is truly a gift to us in our work with MCC. He is a person who has known much tragedy but has had the attitude that in all circumstances he lives to please God and not men. He is humble, gracious, patient, and the perfect liason for us as we struggle with cultural adaptations.

I was able to share my gratitude for having, right from the start, a church community that supported us spiritually and emotionally. I said that the love of Chirst supercedes any cultural differences and we felt welcomed as family into the church we are part of. I also had the chance to share a story about my experience of that love in a very tangible way. Here is that story:

On my last night in Burundi, I invited our pastor Immanuel Ndikumana and his wife Azele over to our house. We had a chance to pray together and I thanked them for their support of me while Rebecca and Oren were away. During the course of the conversation, the topic turned to the movie Hotel Rwanda. Immanuel had been in the US when he saw it and he told me he had an emotional breakdown, because he could really see his family in the eyes of the people left behind when the UN and all the foreigners (including missionaries) left. He said he realized, at that moment, that we could not be trusted, even Christians, to stay, stand by, and perhaps face death with his family and people in a time of crisis. At that moment, he said, he really came to realize that, in fact all would fail him, but that he could put his completely confidence in Christ who would not fail him. He was at peace about that.

When he told me the story, I really felt convicted. I said to him that I feared, as a foreigner, that I too would probably be too afraid to stay in the face of an ethnic crisis and stand with my Burundian Christian brothers and sisters in solidarity. It was a difficult admission, and one that showed me my own lack of faith. I did feel some shame in admitting the truth.

I expected Immanuel to cast an eye of judgement or show some small sign of disapproval. Instead, he looked me in the eye and in that eye I really saw the compassion of Christ. He said: “Paul, in the face of a crisis, we would be the first ones to be putting you and your family on a plane to safety.”

I realized then, what real self sacrificing Christian love looks like and I am deeply grateful that we have this in Burudi.

Sharing with the church at PUMC reminded me how much I miss that place, and it was great to hear the testimonies of people there who have been growing spiritually in the past 6 months. But I do feel more confirmed than ever in our decision to go to Burundi.

2) Seeing our Small Group: We had a Monday night meeting with our Poughkeepsie small group and it was great. Don and Rosaura, Heidi, Chris and Teresa, Jeff and Wendy, Gabriela and Oren, were all there. We had a great sharing time, it almost felt like we had never left. We also ate some of Wendy's awesome homemade carrot cake.

3) Visiting Friends: We also visited others including the Thompson-Gees who we almost missed as they just returned home the evening before we left. Pastor Bob was really glad to see Oren and Oren was very excited to play with the toys at their house—particularly the marble machine. Here are Pastor Bob and Oren playing some make believe game.

Among Oren’s other playmates we visited was Asa. I am amazed at the capacity of three year olds to remember. The reunion of Oren and Asa was amazing. They were like long lost brothers. Asa quite literally dove on Oren. They played happily at Asa’s house on Monday although after an hour together they were back to fighting over who got to play with what toy. (Which toy is the best? –the one the other person has!)

We returned Wednesday and had Thanksgiving on Thursday with family. Here we are in Baltimore in my parents’ dining room. My brother’s family and Rebecca’s parents were there. That is one of the perks of marrying one of your Dad’s colleagues’ daughter! Your in-laws get along really well.

That is about all for now, I will be preaching tomorrow at Hyattsville Mennonite Church so I need to go to bed.

Road Trip

It is hard to find a spare moment to write an entry this week with all the traveling we are doing. Rebecca and I have been on a road trip for the past week. (Now that David is 2 weeks old.) The purpose has been twofold, first, to spend a few days at MCC headquarters in Akron Pennsylvania, and secondly, to visit our old friends and communities in Poughkeepsie, New York. It has felt like a whirlwind tour, but all of it has been very rewarding.

It is really great to be part of an organization that supports us so well, especially spiritually and emotionally. MCC headquarters is set up like a retreat center with several modest guest houses as well as a conference center. The grounds are like a campus, very lovely and the embodiment of Anabaptist simplicity. Rebecca and I love to go there as does Oren. The guest houses are brightly colored and decorated in the style of different regions of the world. We have stayed in what Oren calls ‘the blue house’ in the past, and he was very happy to be there again. The only disappointment was that we were not able to take full advantage of the beauty of the grounds or nearby park and playground as the weather was positively frigid! We spent much of our time inside. The fact that the past week has been unseasonably cold around here is doubly difficult for me in that I have recently come back from a place that does not go below 70º at its coldest. But we did have a good time there and had many meetings with our higher ups with regard to our programs. It was very good to feel reconnected to our job, since it is hard to feel exactly what are duties are while we are so far away.

We also wrote many emails to our partners and Zachee to get progress reports in which are due. Everyone was also thrilled to see our newest addition to our family.


From Akron we headed up, on Thursday to Poughkeepsie, NY to see our old friends. It seems almost daunting to try to see all the people we want to see. But we have been doing a pretty good job. We are staying with our friend Heidi Espinoza (from church and small group.) Here is a picture of her with her son Ryan pulling Oren in a wagon. Oren used to love to go to Heidi’s house because Ryan has so many great toys. (Although he has mentioned often how much he wants to go stay at his ‘red house’.) We did drive by our old house on the way in, it looked pretty much the same. I was a bit disappointed to see that the lovely giant peace lily we left on the front porch for the new owners was frozen to death.

Here was our itinerary after arriving Thursday afternoon up to now.

1) Thursday evening: Go to Final Showings of the Vassar Repertory Dance Theatre at Vassar. This was an interesting experience for me coming back to a job I used to do. I was not sure how I would feel. Would it be awkward? Fortunately I know the current director Maureen Mansfield Kaddar and she made me feel welcome to be there. The dancers were also very excited to have me there, so my initial concern was not warranted. It was great to see the performance and I am retuning Saturday. The company looks great and it was good to see how well Maureen as preserved some traditions as well as brought new vision to the job as well. The repertoire was very impressive with works by 4 guest artists including Paul Taylor’s Aureole. A dance I performed in an earlier day. The dancers were exquisite and the company seems to have the tribal, supportive, unity that I worked so hard to foster when I directed.

On the other hand, I also felt more than ever, the blessing of realizing that the closing of that door and the opening of the door to mission was truly God’s perfect timing. I was blessed by the time I could serve as director of VRDT, I loved the job, but I realize I am different now, and feel that my passion is for the work we are doing in Rwanda and Burundi.

2) Friday morning: We stopped in on Gerry and Sharon Eagan, some friends from our church, who are old friends. Sharon alos watched Oren when we were here and Gerry had an HO guage train set that Oren talked about in Burundi all the time. Oren really wanted to go their house and visit the train set!

3) Friday afternoon: Visited the office at Vassar to say Hi to Joanne, our administrator, than to the Church office where Rebecca worked (Poughkeepsie United Methodist Church) to visit our friends there.

4) Friday evening: Huge potluck at the church. It was a very moving event. A good part of the church was there and we were able to share our experiences with them. It was truly a family reunion. Oren was beside himself with joy! He played with his many friends (the PUMC youth) and charged through up and down the hallways in church for at least an hour pursing or being followed by a herd of kids.

5) Saturday morning: I had a really nice breakfast (conversation) with two of my spiritual mentors—Bruce Hempel and Ernie Shultis. We talked together and caught up. We were all part of the KAIROS prison ministry together. Ernie is working now as a missionary in British Colombia (in an Indian village). Bruce leads a church in Tivoli (Canaan Fellowship). It was very good to be in fellowship with them and share some stories. The KAIROS ministry is something I really miss about Poughkeepsie, and was a real crucible of spiritual refinement for me while I was here.

6) Saturday afternoon we visited with Don and Rosaura, some good friends from our small group. (Who may come and visit us and do some work in Burundi.)

7) Saturday evening went back to watch another performance of VRDT

8) Sunday morning: We will share with our church, PUMC, on Sunday morning in two services.

We wil return to Baltimore on Tuesday.

More later, but now David needs a diaper change.

Dreaming of Congo and The Valley of Dry Bones

This entry is definitely going up late, (so I am sorry to all faithful readers.) This is my second week back in Baltimore and I am happy to report that things are going very well with David Henry. He is a very mellow baby. (likes to sleep).

Oren is also loving spending time at his grandparents house. And it is really nice to be here through the fall and holidays. Rebecca and I realized that this will be the last time we see winter for 5 years. When we return to Burundi we will not be home for 2 and a half years (home leave for 2 months), and when we do come back it will almost certainly be in the summer. So we are enjoying the fall with a real appreciation of this country that has these beautiful seasons.

Not much to report from Burundi. I am in regular contact with Zachee who is manning the fort in MCC and he seems to be doing well. He has moved everything to our new office now and is working on getting a decent internet connection.

I am also in regular contact with our partners in Congo. I have not talked about them a lot but we partner with two organizations just across the border in Bukavu. It is very close to Bujumbura but also very close to Goma—the city that has been under siege by General Nkunda’s rebel forces. Congo has been very much on my mind as it has been in the news for the last two weeks—twice on the front page of the New York Times. (see story) The problems there impact us greatly in Rwanda and Burundi as we are experiencing a great spill over of refugees as a result of the fighting. The situation is a tragic mess, and at this time prayer is the only answer I could suggest. (Although it would help if Congo would make more of a commitment to security and law enforcement on it Eastern border.)

The fact that there is a tremendous amount of mineral wealth in the region, really exacerbates the problem. And there are many militias and even government soldiers who are fighting for control of territory and riches, not unlike street gangs fighting for drug trafficking territory.

The real victims are women and children who are raped by the thousands or conscripted into the army. It is truly a reign of lawless terror there. I am including a map of the Great Lakes region of Africa so you can see the area and our proximity to it. (Goma is just above Lake Kivu and Bujumbura is near the top of Lake Tanganyika)

I confess it is strange to be sitting in such a comfortable setting and enjoying the beauty of the season and the loving care of our families and yet feeling strangely restless to return, to the suffering and need, the heat, the bad roads, the challenges of language, but close to brothers and sisters who need us now. I do not feel like I am home here anymore, eventhough I feel embraced and pampered here, my heart is in Central Africa right now. I think we will all be ready to go when it is time. Oren does talk fondly about his friends, and especially his nanny Denise who he really likes. I do pray that David will not be exposed to to much illness in his infancy but there will be some risk of that—particularly malaria.

The reason this blog is so late is that I have done a ton of writing this week. Rebecca and I presented two programs this week, one for my parents’s Baptist Church and one for North Baltimore Mennonite where Rebecca is a member. I did a powerpoint show for the former and a sermon for the latter. I can tell you I spent many hours writing at the computer right through Sunday morning. So that is why this is late. For your interest (and posterity) I am posting the sermon if you want to read it.—If you don’t I won’t be offended. The gist of it is that the causes of poverty are spiritual and not material. It somewhat explains the approach that MCC takes to its development strategy. If you are interested in mission work you might find it interesting.


Imagining a good future:
(Sermon Preached by Paul Mosley at North Baltimore Mennonite Church, 11/16/2008)

Read Ezekiel 37:1-14 The Valley of Dry Bones

I want to begin by saying what an honor it is to be here in this place today to share with you all. My wife Rebecca is a member here, and we have many fond memories of being here in the past. Particularly on July 12, 2003 when we were married.

For those of you who do not know us well, Rebecca and I are Country Representatives for MCC in Rwanda and Burundi. We live there with our son Oren will return in Jan with our new son David as well. This is a new assignment for us, one we began in July of this year. Prior to that I had had a career as a performing artist, dancer and choreographer and was teaching at Vassar College, Rebecca is a graduate of Regent seminary and was working as a pastor of youth ministries in a Methodist Church in Poughkeepsie NY.

Our decision to enter the field of mission and development with MCC as we begin raising a young family can only be explained as an act of faith that came out of our love of the Lord Jesus Christ. And we do trust that his timing is perfect.

Rebecca and I will be sharing the pulpit today, I will be laying the groundwork and she will be relating some stories from our experiences in Rwanda and Burundi that illustrate our points.

Let me speak a moment to our selection of the passage this morning. The Ezekiel passage was put on my heart very shortly after our arrival in Burundi. We took a trip up to Rwanda and stopped at a genocide memorial where the skeletal remains of over 9000 people are kept in a church where they were slaughtered in 1994. The question “Son of man, can these dry bones live again?” rung in my ears the whole time. I imagined how Ezekiel must have felt as he witnessed the valley of dry bones of his countrymen, --

Something weird about me: I am a person who has a great love of the Prophetic writings—I read them often, for fun. I find the prophetic imagination intriguing. Perhaps it is the prophetic flair for dramatic and creative spontaneity that speaks to me as an artist. (You know the prophets were the performance artists of their day, Ezekiel, for instance, laid on his left side for 380 days then flipped over on his right side for 40 more just to prove a point!) But Ezekiel has particular interest for me now as I find myself working in a country that has been effectively been under siege for the past 14 years.

Ezekiel was prophecying during the Bablylonian siege of Jerusalem. The siege lasted several years during which time he prophecied furiously against Judah until it was finally overrun by the Babylonians. His language is far harsher than mine, but the message through this time of the siege was basically this: Resisitance is Futile! There is no military solution for the Israelites. Judah will be defeated, Jerusalem will fall and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

The causes however were never attributed to Babylon’s military superiority, but rather to Judah’s spiritual condition. Judah had turned from away from God, sacrificed its children in fire to idols, forsaken its widows and orphans, made a mockery of justice, and abandonned their role as examplar Yahweh’s Holiness.

But despite all his forwarnings of gloom and doom, it is important to understand that Ezekiel was not a cynic! Deeply pessimistic, yes, but not cynical. He did not see himself as apart from or above, but very much a part of his nation. He took tremendous personal risks to condemn the direction his nation was heading and to try to get them to change course

The other amazing thing about him to me, is that despite his dire prophecies and pessimism about the present, his vision of the future was irrationally, almost perversely optimistic and hopeful. This is beautifully expressed in his vision of the Valley of Dry Bones.

This vision would have come well after the siege of Jerusalem was over, the demolition of the nation of Israel was complete, its armies slaughtered--its people, those who survived, were carried off into slavery in Babylon.

In the vision Ezekiel finds himself in the valley of dry bones. The bones of his people.
The special care to remark not just on the fact that all that is left of Israel’s army is bones, but VERY DRY bones, amplifies the existential fact of the situation. This is beyond hope.

But what is particularly intriguing about this scene is what happens next. God asks Ezekiel a question: Son of man, can these dry bones live again? That is my favorite part of the whole passage. God’s question to him and us: Son of man, can these dry bones live again? I find it intriguing because it seems like a test—a test of faith, or perhaps of Ezekiel’s willingness to hope. What is the right answer? What would you say if God asked you about a seemingly hopeless situation--say the conflict in Congo, or Afghanistan? It seems like both yes and no are problematic.

Yes--contradicts everything that empirical experience would have shown Ezekiel or us. Dry bones do not come back to life, even children know that. Right?

On the other hand, NO, is a refutation of faith, and even worse, an abdication of hope. Isn’t anything possible for God?

Ezekiel’s answer seems like the only answer that walks the humble line between hope and skepticism and I believe instructs us about an attitude we might adopt in our hearts in the face of a seemingly impossible situation. “Sovereign Lord, You Know,”

Then God proceeds to lay out his development strategy for the restoration of the country. Notice he does not start with a loan from the World Bank, a strategic alliance, a generous aid package, or even Doctors Without Borders.

He says: son of man Preach to these dry bones, say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.’

The problem with the dry bones, the underlying cause of their current condition, is spiritual, and the restoration is for God first and foremost a spiritual one. The bones themselves in verse 11 even describe themselves as being without hope.

Ezekiel obeys God and then witnesses, in his vision, a miraculous restoration, the bones, tendons, flesh, and skin coming together, a renewal that begins at the sinews of each person, a healing that renews every individual, until they rise again together as a nation.

God again commands Ezekiel, again to propecy to them, so that his breath would enter them, I believe, in the passage, the breath symbolizes the restoration of unity and hope.

God’s word to the newly restored nation is this: “I will put my spirit in you and you will live and will settle in your own land.” I can imagine how the promise of returning to ones homeland would sound to the millions of refugees and internally displaced people in the great Lakes region of Africa. To those living as refugees and in an extended state of siege, this promise is truly a vision of salvation.

The passage is a poetic vision of the good future, written by one of the Bible’s great pessimists. It is invoked frequently in song and sermon by people who have been oppressed and yet hope for a better tomorrow. In our own cultural context it was a rallying cry for African Americans and probably best recalled in that song Them Bones Gonna Rise Tonight.

So how does this sound to someone living in Central Africa today? Does it have resonance in a region of the world mired in ethnic conflict and a scale of carnage rivaled only, in recent history by World War 2? Is it a realistic promise, or simply pie in the sky?

And what might it have to tell us working in Faith based development groups like MCC? Are there lessons for us today in our current context? A development strategy? Can we attribute much of what we see in terms of poverty and misery to spiritual privation, or are the problems related primarily to scarcity, and ignorance?

I can tell you what I know about Burundi: Rebecca and I arrived less than a month after a tenuous peace accord had been struck between various rebel groups to end, or at least pause, 14 years of civil war.

The chief rivalry is between two ethnic groups, the Hutu and the Tutsi. While the conflict was exacerbated by colonialism which supported the minority elite Tutsi over the Hutu, it would be naïve to attribute its bloody history entirely to the abuses of colonialism.

Bujumbura, the capital city where Rebecca and I live, looks like a city that has been under siege for years. The infrastructure is badly damaged and does not look like there has been any effort to repair it. Outside the city many buildings and homes are in ruins, obviously the result of explosives or fire.

For a country no bigger than the State of Maryland, it has the distinction of being on many indexes, the poorest country in the world. In GDP, per capita income it is at the bottom. It has an out of control birthrate, high infant mortality, low life expectancy, land scarcity, and an HIV infection rate between 7 and 10 percent. Despite all this, violent death from the eruption of ethnic conflict remains the most serious threat. I can tell you personally that there is not one person I have met among our local friends, partners and associates who has not had one or more family members murdered as a result of ethnic conflict.

It is honestly hard to know where to begin in all this, as a small Christian NGO. There is so much need…

The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out by the Spirit of the LORD and set me in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me back and forth among them, and I saw a great many bones on the floor of the valley, bones that were very dry. He asked me,

"Son of man, can these dry bones live?"
I said, "O Sovereign LORD, you alone know."

Let me come back to the question: Is there a lesson for us as Christians who want to serve the poor and oppressed in mission work in this passage, perhaps even a strategy. As I have said, Ezekiel’s vision suggests that the problem for Israel was first and foremost a spiritual one. Well I can tell you that there is a growing consensus among development workers that Ezekiel really hit the nail on the head!

In the book Walking with The Poor, Bryant Meyers a long time director of World Vision suggests that faith based organizations need to take a wholistic approach to development and evangelism, and understand the spiritual underpinnings of poverty. He uses the term transformative development to describe this approach. In the book he claims that until recently development organizations have misunderstood the real causes of poverty.

Historically he explains, it was presumed that the difference between rich and poor nations was that rich nations had material resources and poor nations did not. (the haves and have nots) The solution therefore was to give things to poor countries. (That did not work- it is now common knowledge that giving things to countries can destroy local markets and entrepreneurs.) This strategy was revised in the 70s and 80s to identify the big difference as education not material resources. Ignorance was the problem and transfer of knowledge became the solution. But even transfer of knowledge alone we are seeing, has done little to alleviate poverty in the world and in fact, often has exacerbated inequity.

Meyers does a serious inquiry into the root causes of poverty, and his conclusion, based on his experience, is that (low and behold) poverty is first and foremost a spiritual problem not a material one, and will not be solved with material or even educational intervention alone. It requires, first and foremost, a spiritual transformation of individuals and society.

He eloquently demonstrates this in his observation that in fact,
in every poor nation there are in fact poor and non poor regions,
IN a poor region there are poor and non poor communities
In a poor community, there are poor and non-poor households
In a poor household, there are poor and non-poor individuals (usually women and children are most vulnerable.)

By contrast I would add that in rich nations there are rich and non rich regions
In rich regions, there are rich and non rich communities
In rich communities there are rich and non rich households
In rich households there are rich and non rich individuals.

His point is that transfer of wealth and even knowledge do not change the underlying structures of injustice inherent in all societies and consequently will not succeed in eliminating poverty!

His conclusion: Development needs to go hand in hand with a transformative ideology. A gospel that offers hope for the future, stands against injustice and offers to individuals and society, healing of malformed, divisive identities. Identities like tutsi, hutu, slave, free, white, black, even Catholic, and Protestant. By malformed identities, I mean identities that uphold the lie (the lie that underlies all other lies): that some people are more valuable than others.

“Son of man prophecy to these dry bones, tell them, hear the word of the Lord.”


We are blessed, in our short experience with MCC to have inherited a very thoughtfully developed program that has put the principles of transformative development theory into practice. Our work in Burundi and Rwanda is primarily in the area peace and reconciliation. There is a great need for this kind of work in this region, as I have explained before. It is a problem that touches everyone. As Anabaptists, we are uniquely qualified to offer expertise, in this area based in our understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Our strategy has been to identify exceptional, prophetic local Christian individuals who are working in the country and partner with them in their work. Despite the immense need, I am inspired daily by the commitment and hope, rooted in their faith, that inspires them to see ways they can transform society, against seemingly impossible odds. For them, it would be impossible to separate the work of peace and reconciliation from the Gospel of Christ, especially in the face of the terribly devisive malformed ethnic identities that have been the root of so much conflict.

Many of them came out of GBU the Francophone version of Intervarsity Christian Fellowship. Their integrity and faith has been refined in the fires of ethnic conflict, and they have emerged courageous and with the integrity of those who know that they are alive today but for the grace of God and the calling to his purposes.

I am going to ask Rebecca to come up and tell you about several individuals who lead our partner organizations, both about their work, their character, and their faith.

Rebecca shares testimonies about several of our partners.

I would to close by telling you about a particular project organized by our partner in Rwanda called Friends Peace House.

They have created a prisoner reintegration project with a development component that I believe seeks to marry the gospel of peace with providing assistance for human need.

Many prisoners are being released from prison in Rwanda who had been convicted of crimes against humanity. As they come out, there is great anxiety for both them and victims of genocide. Prisoners fear revenge, victims fear prisoners will want to finish the genocide.

Friends Peach House sponsors 3 week workshops in which prisoners and victims meet together, share stories, ask for and offer forgiveness, reconcile to one another, pray together and hope together. At the end of the workshop they build houses for the most vulnerable participants. They build the houses together as a community. I have talked to these participants and they have told me how much these workshops have changed their lives. A prisoner told me he never understood the amount of prejudice he had grown up with. A survivor told me that he lived everyday of his life for 14 years in terror until the workshop. He came in terrified and bitter, but he came to realize “In order for me to have true peace, all must have peace.” He forgave the man who killed his family, they are friends now and are living in peace physical and spiritual. They also stand as a testimony to what the gospel looks like in practice. A restored individual, a restored community and maybe someday a restored nation.

It has been a privilege to witness the stirring of dry bones, the beginning of tendons and flesh attaching to joints because there are those bold enough to say to the dry bones: hear the word of the Lord.

Son of man, Can these dry bones live again?
Sovereign Lord, you know.

The Idea of America: A light to the Nations

“America America God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood,
From sea to shining sea.”

It was an unexpected blessing to be back in the USA for this historic election. I can thank David Henry’s marvelous timing for that. I am trying to write this blog with some sensitivity to the fact that many of my friends, for very good reasons, supported McCain. (Who really showed his statesmanship in his concession speech.) I don’t want to debate any issues at this time, but I would like to offer a perspective on this election from an American who is living overseas.

I can’t begin to tell you how interested everyone I met, in Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Ghana, Nigeria, and Kenya, were in this election the past 6 months. When people found I was American (often in a French African country you are presumed to be Canadian.) the topic would turn quickly to the election. Many of my friends and colleagues were stunned that a majority white country might elect a black candidate.

Democracy is a pretty cynical enterprise in many African countries (see Zimbabwe). On the one hand, elections are seen as a way to give one legitimacy in his claim to power (and rights to distribute the nation’s wealth to friends/clients.) , BUT elections are frequently not trustworthy, and certainly not a guarantee that even if someone loses, power will be transferred to the opposition. I can't tell you how unique we are in that respect--After an election, the ruling party does not have any legitimate claim to maintaining control. For many years in Rwanda and Burundi an elite minority was in power, but even when the majority finally gained legitimate power, it represented the interests of that tribal group at the expense of the other. (with murderous consequences-see Rwanda genocide 1994.)

Many Africans I met admire America, but are mostly attracted to the opportunity it offers to make money--(or borrow money really). They are familiar with the American ideals of freedom and democracy, but are understandably skeptical. They perceive elections in the US to be like their own--Even if people change, the ruling class stays in control--they can't conceive of a process that would actually give anyone an opportunity to win an election. They also see American ideals and values as something imposed by the ‘sword’ and upheld by financial power, rather than exemplified in our national or international conduct. (“Might makes right.” is perceived by them to be our national morality rather than “Liberty and Justice for All”.)

Understandably they were stunned that Obama was even a candidate, but did not think he would actually win--because ultimately elections are fixed (in their view).

This election was the single most symbolic act of THE IDEA OF AMERICA that I have ever seen in my life and it is resounding loudly in every country in Africa right now. It was a defining moment where our claims about democracy and opportunity in America became facts! We demonstrated unmistakably, the values we say we stand for! I kept thinking of God’s call to Israel in Isaiah to be “a light to the nations.” In the eyes of many, we said more about our ideals and values in this election than in any wars we have fought in the name of freedom.

My hope is that our example might begin to change the way that other nations, especially in Africa, conduct themselves. Perhaps tutsis and hutus will really begin looking beyond their own ethnic divisions and self interest in Rwanda and Burundi. Perhaps we will see the emergence of some legitimate democratic institutions in these countries that reflect a new found idealism, against the tide of cynicism that has been so much a part of politics as usual in sub-Saharan Africa.

Enough about American politics. I actually do not want this blog to be a political forum. But it is hard to avoid any conversation on politics at this time of year—so please forgive my indulgence.

On to Burundian politics:

This is a good time to recount this experience: I participated in a very interesting forum the week before I left Burundi on the role of Christians in politics in Burundi. It was led by Emmanuel Ndikumana, whom I have written about before. The forum had some very distinguished guests, I was sitting next to one of the two vice President’s of Burundi. (They have 2, one for each ethnic group here.) In Burundi, the question of Christians participating in politics is very controversial. This is because the largest and most influential protestant church in the country are the Pentecostals (that is Swedish Pentecostal.) The Pentecostals are quite conservative and do not believe Christians should be involved in politics at all, not even the electoral process. Submission to authorities is an important value, though, and participating in a general strike, for instance, is grounds for excommunication.

The Pentecostals here are big on excommunication and among the things one can be excommunicated for are:
1) drinking
2) being in a room or restaurant where someone is drinking
3) using fermented wheat for chicken feed
4) going to a wedding or celebration at another church. (Even if your own son is getting married for instance.)
5) moving or waving your hands during singing in church.
6) participating in politics
7) not tithing
8) asking questions about where the money is going

In short they are quite legalistic, and also the ‘frozen chosen’ since body movements are prohibited while worshipping. (They do speak and tongues and prophecy though.)

The Catholics, the other major religious group in Burundi, have a rich musical tradition and dance in the aisles during worship and sing beautiful, multipart hymns and praise songs in Kirundi.

This definitely may come as a surprise to us in the USA where we tend to think of Pentecostal Churches as more demonstrative in worship and Catholics as more staid. I also tend to think of conservative Christians as more politically active in the US, but not in Burundi. Again, a reminder that much of what we practice in our faith is rooted in culture rather than some universal Biblical mandate. (I am not being critical of any of this, the emergence of the practices in Burundi came out of very specific cultural contexts and made a lot of sense at the time. Alcoholism was a huge problem and the political process was suspect for good reason as well.)

Now, because of the influence of the Pentecostal Church, many Christians in Burundi still do not participate in politics for reasons of intimidation by church authorities. Changing attitudes is a difficult business. Emmanuel, who is the pastor of the church Rebecca and I belong to had been a pastor in the Pentecostal Church himself before being excommunicated for his involvement in politics. He is a prophetic voice for the moral obligations Christians have to be involved in civic life and to demonstrate Christian values in political office. This is quite radical in a place where ethnicity and corruption are business as usual in government.

Personal News:

Our family is admittedly still feeling a bit dislocated here as we await the date of our return to Burundi. (Jan 6th) We try to keep up with what is happening now back in Burundi, and I have to say it is a bit hard to be in the US right now with the problems in Congo. We live about 30 minutes away from the border in Eastern Congo, and Goma, the city under siege is quite close to us. I know that we wlll be seeing a tide of refugees coming into Rwanda and Burundi, and I would like to be working with our partners right now to coordinate a response and plan for the future. Right now, prayer is the best and only means we have to be mindful of the plight of our neighbors.

Rebecca and I will have the chance to raise consciousness about some of the issues in the area as we will be preaching or presenting at several churches in the next 2 weeks. I am hoping to be able to speak of the power of a Christian witness to address the problem of injustice that underlies so much of the poverty in these countries. We will speak at Valley Baptist on Monday, and North Balitmore Mennonite on the following Sunday.

Oren and David are doing very well. David, thus far is one of those really quiet, mellow babies. Hopefully he will stay that way. Oren, on the other hand, is definitely trying to make the adjustment to all the changes that are happening around him. The many changes of location are definitely disruptive to him being able to establish patterns. Since he is a great lover of order (as reflected in his love of trains) he is struggling with all the changes. He does enjoy playing with his cousins Miriam and Gabriel who live nearby. Here they are playing in the leaves. He and his cousins also visit the train museum here regularly, which is a real highlight for him.

Reverse Culture Shock, David Henry, and Halloween

A view of our bedroom in Bujumbura with baggage getting packed. Notice our stylish mosquito net hanging down from above.

When I left off last week it probably did not sound so good, and the good news is that I was due for a reversal of fortune. I endured my last 2 days in Burundi, recovered from the illness, and had a nice send off from our church and a dinner with Emmanuel Ndikumana our pastor. We had a fascinating conversation about what it means to be an expatriot in a place like Burundi. In a time of crisis, when does one stand in solidarity with one’s brothers, and when does one leave on account of security. Especially among Christians, he challenged me with the question: Can we rely on you? For Emmanuel the answer is that ultimately all friends (foreign and domestic) will fail us, but we can rely on the love of God and the mercy of his son through whom we can endure all things. He has been tested more than once in this regard.

I left the next morning, after a late night packing. (Ultimately I just threw one suitcase inside another since I went with pretty much nothing.) All my clothes here are not suitable for fall or winter in the USA. I did my best to prepare all staff salaries, and other house business for Isaac before going. I feel like I left more things untied than completed—but I was not missing that plane.


The route went from Bujumbura to Nairobi (short) where I spent 14 hours in the transit lounge (photo here) before leaving for Zurich. That was a lot of time to kill and fortunately I found a wireless hotspot and updated my Facebook account, chatted with friends and wrote a good friend (Republican Christian) a long argument about why she must vote for Obama for President. (Don’t get me started please.) But the time did pass.



The flight to Zurich was overnight on SwissAir and relatively comfortable. I spent another 5 hours in transit in Zurich. This was a mad clean airport! I walked around and had a $20 Continental Breakfast. Finally I boarded United for my last leg- the flight to Dulles airport. This flight was not very smooth, and after 30 hours of travel I was definitely over it. But the nasty little surprise at the end was the worst. A front had come into Dulles just prior to our approach and we had severe crosswinds as we landed. I don’t think I can remember a landing that was that scary in my life. In order to keep the plane going in a straight line to the runway, it was tilted at an angle that made the wing look like it would hit the runway first. The landing was rough and uneven and rocked us back and forth a lot. It was definitely the last straw for me after many rough weeks without my family. But it was over and I was back. Oren was waiting for me at the airport and it was awesome to see him. (The photo here shows how dark the sky was when we landed.)


Culture Shock: It is strange how much more affected I have been, even in this short a time, by reverse culture shock, than by my experiences of life in Burundi.

I almost forgot:

1) that October is not uncomfortably hot here.
2) the highways are smooth, well maintained, and all cars don’t smell like diesel fuel
3) that the air is not dusty and polluted
4) that I can drive down the street in town and not feel like I am going to hit a three year old walking alongside the road.
5) what raw apples, lettuce, fresh milk, and chicken meat tastes like.
6) that refrigerators keep food cold here.
7) sugar is not brown and full of rocks
8) ants on all the food in the kitchen is not just a way of life
9) you can drink and brush your teeth with tap water.
10) I don’t have to pay my dishwasher.
11) all beds don't have mosquito nets
12) the contents of a toilet should disappear when flushed.
13) jogging is not an extreme sport involving diving out of the way of motorcycles.
14) driving ≠ sweating

All in all, it is a bit disconcerting, the prospect of being here for 2 months in the beginning of this assignment. There is a way in which forgetting all of these things is important in order to the work there and being reminded means having to readjust. This time we will be returning in the cold of winter. The last time we went it was mid summer, so the difference will be even more pronounced.

What is great though is seeing family and planning to visit friends. That is what I love most about here and Burundi. We have developed a close group of friends there even in this short time, but we also have so many loved ones here who we are excited about seeing us. Here are some dates for those of you to be aware of:

We are in US together from Oct. 29-Jan 6, 2009.
We will be based in Baltimore but will plan a visit to the Hudson River Valley between November 20-24th. I will be at Final Showings at Vassar on the 20th and 21st and at PUMC on the 23rd. Rebecca’s cell is 845-891-4580 if you want to coordinate with us.

Since Rebecca and I are reunited again, I asked her to write a mom’s eye view of the delivery of our Son DAVID HENRY MOSLEY! Take it away Rebecca--

We were relying on some split-second timing around our baby’s birth. Much to our surprise and delight, everything worked out according to plan. Paul arrived home safely on Tuesday and had a little time (probably too little time) to get reconnected with Oren and me before we left for the hospital on Wednesday morning.

It is truly a surreal experience to give birth to a child by a scheduled c-section. I just showed up at the hospital, filled out paperwork, and was prepared for the operation. Within a matter of 10 minutes after entering the OR, the doctors were pulling David Henry out into the light. One of the first comments about him: “he has big hands!” The process of closing me back up was not as pleasant. But on the good side, a nurse positioned a mirror so that I could watch as our new son was cleaned up across the room (a much better choice than looking up at the reflection on the light above me, which showed what the docs were doing to me!). I was grateful to be so much more alert this time and able to enjoy the first minutes and hours of David’s life.

It has been a great blessing to deliver this child in Baltimore. David was welcomed and held by all his immediate relatives here within a day of his birth. His two grandfathers were really touched at meeting their little namesake. Paul and I definitely feel that Papa Dave and Grampa Henry are great role models for our son, not just because of their professional medical achievements but because of the kind of choices they’ve made in their lives to use their training for the benefit of the poor and their characters as loving fathers and husbands.

Paul and I have had to split duties between David and Oren. Oren has needed more attention from his dad in this process. He’s come to the hospital for several short visits, and he thinks his little brother is pretty fascinating…but not quite as interesting as the toy subway car David gave him to celebrate his big brotherhood. I have, of course, stayed in the hospital to recover, and have actually enjoyed the quiet time to get to know our new son. He is such a sweet, undemanding child so far. It’s wonderful to just watch him sleep. For a newborn, he spends a remarkable amount of time looking around contentedly with open eyes. I’ve had Paul and both grammas stay overnight with me on different nights and I’m grateful to have so many loving family members around to support us.

Last week, before David was born, good friends of our family, the Bollingers, hosted a baby shower for us. It was so special to spend that time with extended family, good friends, and long-time friends from the church where I grew up. People were so generous in giving us practical gifts and cute new clothes for David. One gift was a fun little pumpkin blanket and pumpkin socks. Grammy Bunny and I couldn’t resist dressing him up last night and taking him for a walk down the hall of the maternity ward (and I’m glad that I’m already able to be up and walking around).

Back to Paul…

The last real experience of culture shock worth noting was going to Oren’s preschool to witness a Halloween parade. I am a new dad who has not set foot in a preschool until now. (Oren just started here. When he returns he will continue with the only difference being that it will be entirely in French.) Being surrounded by parents, flashing cameras and overly excited children was a pretty traumatic experience, especially when my little elephant boy sat down in the middle of it all and picked his nose incessantly for all of the group shots. (It is interesting to note that nose picking in public is acceptable behavior in Burundi, and one will see it often in the middle of a formal dinner, church service or business meeting.) I guess he is still trying to make cultural adjustments too.