VBS - The Real Story

So, how do you spell Vacation Bible School?  I'll tell you how, E.X.H.A.U.S.T.E.D.  Yes, that is correct if you check my dictionary my photo will appear right next to the word!  Yes, it was exhausting, wonderful, and exceeded expectations.  God can do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think.  Tis' true.  We were hoping at best for 50 and perhaps with a bit of a stretch of the imagination 70 but 88 children were registered on the first day with a peak reaching 116.

As you can see our theme was "Kids in Training for God's Army".  That theme was played out from beginning to end.  Each child was issued dog tags with his or her name and held the rank of private.  In crafts each day they were able to create a portion of their uniform:  the belt of truth, breast plate of righteousness, etc.

Dressed for battle!

What I loved most about VBS is that it was a joint venture with the Jamaica Association for the Deaf, so we had deaf and hearing children as well as  interpreters each day.  Each morning the children spent time learning JSL (Jamaican Sign Language) and by the end of our time together we could all communicate in a bit of sign language (at least the basics).

Registration

Well, we ended with service on Sunday.  The children sang I'm in the Lord's Army, sang and did movement to our VBS theme song I'm A Soldier in the Army of the Lord, and recited their memory verses.  I preached the theme text of Ephesians 6:10-18, and we recessed with We are Marching in the Light of God straight out of the sanctuary and into the fellowship hall for some well deserved ice cream and cake!

Well, Major Oliver is signing off!  One battle won, many more to come.

VBS

It's that time of the year again!  I have had the pleasure of working with some of the most intelligent, creative, and resourceful young adults that I have ever come in contact with in the planning and preparation for VBS. It takes a lot to "wow" me, but they did. Certainly they have an excellent supervisor, Iris Soutar, but to watch them handle each detail: Bible lessons, arts and crafts, decorations and preparation of the venue, the incorporation of deaf culture, skits, planning and food prep was amazing. 

This VBS is particularly interesting because it includes deaf and hard of hearing persons as instructors as well as students.  I like that they are willing to be inclusive and to serve an under-served community.  Most of the children attending will be from other communities and many, if not most, of them will be un-churched.  Of course I love it when the church really acts like the church.  A VBS of this magnitude is challenging and costly but with willing hearts and hands do-able.  This has been the week of prayerful preparation.  I will update you as our week progresses.

SIDE NOTE:  Ok, if you read my blog "FRAZZLED", I mentioned that one of my pet peeves about Jamaica was that people burned garbage.  Well, one of our skits for VBS called for garbage bags and when I mentioned that I would purchase them I was told how expensive they were and they weren't necessary.  Ahhh!  I made the connection immediately.  It's most cost effective to burn!  I am reminded of how much I take for granted.

Weary, Wanting, and Waiting

I know.  Blabba Mout has been silent for a few days.  I have simply being trying to digest the outcome of the Trayvon Martin murder trial.  Yes, I cried.  I was overcome with grief. I hear the voice of my brother, crying from the ground. How many?  How many black bodies bathed in blood cry out for justice? I am weary.  Weary of the hatred, weary of the violence.  The fuel of my faith has once again collided with the roadblock of my reality and I find myself in that murky place where faith is made or broken. That place of tension that is thirsting to be quenched.  That place of  nebulous nastiness that longs for a tolerable and tidy conclusion.  Weary.  Weary, wanting, and still waiting.

I am wanting for the day when we will be as outraged by the killings of black children from Camden,NJ to  Cleveland, OH; from East St. Louis, MO to East Point, GA; from Baton Rouge, LA to Birmingham, AL and all those other cities across the country that could be named.  I am wanting for the day when every child's  life will be valuable whether s/he receives media coverage or not because we are not without knowledge of their stories.  I am wanting for the day when, whether by white hands, black hands, or the blue hands we will find ourselves aroused with the same ire and resentment and be compelled to raise our collective voices to hold systems accountable -- whether they be government systems, educational systems, or religious systems.  I am wanting for that day.

Finally, I am waiting.  I am waiting for Moses, for Joshua, for somebody!  For Paul, for Peter, for somebody!  It may be that if instead of saying, "I am Trayvon Martin" if I would say "I am Moses" something might change; and perhaps if instead of saying, "I am Trayvon Martin", you would say "I am Moses" something could happen.  After all, we are what we think.  

Political Humor

Today the $J101.80 to $1US.  Here's a little political satire courtesy of The Jamaica Observer.

Trouble in Paradise III - A Jamaican Voice

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”  
 ~ Aldous Huxley


 Bounty Killer is a Grammy nominated Jamaican reggae and dancehall deejay.

This is said to be his most profound song to date.  He does not glorify guns and the "bad man" life style but instead make an appeal on behalf of Jamaica's poor for a better way.

LOOK INTO MY EYES

Chorus:

Look into my eyes, tell me what you see?

Can you feel my pain? Am I your enemy?

Give us a better way, things are really bad,

The only friend I know is this gun I have.

Now you see the Nine are you worried yet?

You've been talking 'bout' you want the war to cease

But when you show us hope, we will show you peace.

Verse 1:

Look into my mind, can you see the wealth?

Can you tell that I want to help myself?

But if it happen that I stick you for your ring

Don't be made at me it's a survival ting.

Look into my heart, I can feel your fear

Take another look can you hold my stare?

Why are you afraid of my hungry face?

Or is it this thing bulging in my waist? ....

Verse 2:

Look into my life, can you see my kids?

Let me ask you this, do you know what hungry is?

Well in this part of town, survival is my will

for you to stay alive you've got to rob and kill.

Look into my house would you live in there?

Look me in the eyes and tell me that you care,

Well I've made up my mind to end up in the morgue

Right now I'd rather die, cause man a live like dog ....

Verse 3:

Look down on my shoes, can you see my toes?

The struggle that we live nobody really knows

Stop and ask yourself, would you live like that?

and if you had to then, wouldn't you bus gunshot?

Look into the schools, tell me how you feel?

You want the kids to learn without a proper meal

Denwhat you have in place to keep them out of wrong?

If they drop out of school dem a go bus dem gun.

Thanks for reading.  Good night.

Trouble in Paradise - Part II

Today the the USD is trading at approximately $1 to $100.86 JMD.  As I travel a bit more in Kingston (never alone for those of you who worry), I can sense the tension of poverty as I am out and about, whether it is grocery shopping or a walk through the mall.  This week I am paying particular attention to the murals and street signs which stand juxtaposed between national poverty and national pride, holiness and hellishness.  I see graffiti that reads "we are poor" next to or near a mural displaying the Jamaican flag and reads "proud to be Jamaican".  There are randomly placed signs with scripture verses that stand in contrast to images of power and violence.  As I interact with people just going from place to place (that would be mainly be from church to home) I sense a certain trepidation as I  am admonished to roll up my window and lock my doors.  Just as guns and gangs control the inner city streets of the US; guns, gangs, and machetes control the ghettos of Kingston.  Last night two men were beheaded.  Sadly, it seems that the politics and politicians of Jamaica are deeply entrenched in gang warfare, or perhaps gangs are deeply entrenched in politics.  I opt for the former assumption.   That being whatever it may, it seems that for many, hunger has become a best friend. On my way to Emancipation Park today, I saw a middle-aged man selling newspapers; his eyes were distantly weary, empty with hopelessness.

"...look around you at the multiplied number of beggars in the city and rural areas. More poignantly, take note of many who would hate to be considered to be among the rank of beggars who are forced to beg. People are losing jobs, bills are piling up daily, banks and other lenders want security, and persons from all strata of society are running out of cash.

If you doubt that scenario about cash shortage, ask the big consumer houses how their sales have been. They will invariably tell you their sales are down - in some cases, quite significantly. Consumers are short of cash...

The twin problem of hunger and poverty is moving up the social hierarchy. Many are still ashamed to disclose their need and their near destitution. More are being forced into the open by hunger, mounting bills and absolutely no cash in the kitty. Many entrepreneurs with small and/or new businesses are on the brink of failure and bankruptcy because fewer people can buy their products or services..." (Jamaican Gleaner, May 3, 2013)

Those of the upper class seem to give the illusion that all is well...  The gap between the rich and the poor is mind boggling.  I often feel as though I am in two very different Jamaica's and, indeed I am.  I am reading a fascinating book, Blood Bullets and Bodies: Sexual Politics Below Jamaica's Poverty Line by Imani Tafari-Ama which is a poignant look into the under-belly of the lives and culture of poor Jamaicans living on the Southside.  I was particularly interested in body politics, Jamaican women and the poverty and lusts and fuel the sex trade because sex tourism is the biggest attraction and biggest business.

I will close this entry by sharing that I visited the National Gallery last week.  I was intrigued by work of Edna Manley (wife of Norman Manley, Jamaica's National hero).  There were three distinct phases of her work.  Her early work reflected a European style and appearance.  Then her work began to reflect an African style and appearance.  These African images were quite uplifting.  She is most noted for "Negro Aroused".  When I look at this piece I see so much power and hope.  A strong body that appears to be pushing upward and looking upward... perhaps pressing toward a new and bright future.

 

The latter portion of her work, still reflected an African appearance.  However, the images really disturbed me.  So much so that I promised that I would revisit the gallery against with the sole purpose of contemplating her work.  This is one of the particularly disturbing piece for me.  It is called "Dispossessed"

While I cannot quite articulate it at this moment, somehow in the very depth of my soul, in every fiber of my being -- I get it.  I don't know if I am more overwhelmed by the poverty I see or by the privileged 10% who choose to be blind to the poverty.

"He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?"  ~Micah 6:8

Blessed, Encouraged, Inspired

I have been incredibly blessed, encouraged, and inspired to have this opportunity.  It has not just been an opportunity to learn and observe ministry in another cultural context but it has been an opportunity to meet and see women in ministry who are strong and powerful.  Women in ministry who courageous, convicted, and in charge.  Women who believe the bible and believe God. Period.  Women who believe in truth, justice, integrity, and that the church is called to set the standard for the world and not the world setting the standard for the church.  Women who believe God is God.  I really can't take the time to explain this any more clearly than  to say that I have hope again for the church and more clarity than I have ever had about my calling.  This is a prophetic season and the church must be challenged, confronted, and called back to God.