Wednesday, November 30, 2011

St Andrew’s Day


As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea-- for they were fishermen.  And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people."  And immediately they left their nets and followed him.
- Mark 1:16-18

Today, 30 November, is Scotland’s national day: Saint Andrew’s Day.  Interestingly, Andrew is also the patron Saint of the last country we lived in – Greece (Russia, Romania, and Ukraine also claim him as their patron saint).  This year however, 30 November will more likely be remembered for the mass public sector strike than any Scottish cultural celebrations.

I might be missing something speaking as a non-Scot, but generally the day passes without me noticing; sometimes I’m vaguely aware of some cultural event or art show going on.  There was a move by the Scottish government to put more emphasis on 30 November as a national celebration of Scottish culture, but I know this was viewed cynically by some as part of the Scottish nationalist agenda.  It has also become a day to take a stand against racism in Scotland, on which there has been some political unity.  I suppose this is a fitting celebration of St Andrew’s connection to Scotland.   The monastery that was established in his name by foreigners -- Greek monks -- who brought so much benefit to Scotland.  The town that grew up in Fife around this monastery became a centre of learning and culture, the heritage of which remains evident today.  The town even bears the name of one of Jesus’ first disciples: now the world famous university town St Andrew’s.  The case can be made that Scotland is indebted to immigration and the strangers who settled here for it's rich national heritage (theory being that knowledge of this might mitigate the fear of the other).

Yet I wonder if a celebration of Scottish culture and making a stand against racism (as good and important as these things are) takes in the whole picture of what St Andrew’s day could commemorate, especially for those who count themselves as followers of Christ.  Having read a bit more about St Andrew, as Christians, what else does the Saltire symbolise?  My thoughts immediately move to the cost of discipleship.

Here is an informative little video about St Andrew.  While the tradition is probably a mixture of myth and reality, it’s interesting nonetheless:


Posted by Paul and Emma at 11:30 pm | 1 comments  
Monday, November 21, 2011

No angels

I’ve spent the last month dealing with a particularly frustrating housing situation.

My Iranian friend (we’ll call him “Sam”), a brother in Christ, arrived home one evening  to find three extra people living in his one bedroom flat… one of them sleeping in Sam's own bed!  Without warning, his housing provider put another person in his flat, who then subsequently copied the keys and gave them to five of his friends.

The flat isn’t equipped for two people (let alone six), which is clearly against the rules the Home Office has set up for hosing asylum seekers:  if shared occupancy, each room must have a door that locks internally and there must be equal access to all facilities.  When Sam asked his housing provider to explain their decision, they simply replied along the lines of, “We’ll, we do this all the time, so why are you complaining?”

Sam’s concern for his safety was multiplied when one of the new flatmate’s pals started saying threatening things to Sam when they noticed Christian literature on his desk, deducing that he was a convert.  The housing provider seemed totally unconcerned about this as well.  The only thing they did after Sam expressed concern for his safety was to put a tiny latch and lock on his cupboard (see the picture below).   If it wasn’t such a frustrating response to a genuine problem, it would be comical.


This particular housing provider have a bad reputation and lost much of their contract last year – probably down to issues like this.  Unlike all the other housing providers in Glasgow, they are a profit making business.  So they can pocket extra money by putting as many people in a flat as they wish, without having to pay for an extra property.  They seem to assume that they are safe ground in this clear breach of the rules because many asylum seekers are too afraid to speak out – they don’t want to go to the Home Office and complain when a case is pending, as if this might reflect poorly on their character, that they are ungrateful for what has been provided.

However, when I contacted the Home Office about this situation, they were equally (if not more) frustrated about the situation than I was.  They acted swiftly to get the housing provider to rectify the situation.  Unfortunately, the housing provider dug their heels in and instead of just moving  the offending flatmate, they hired joiners to install a new wall and door in the flat so that Sam could have his own room.  Extra pressure was needed from the Home Office again to get the housing provider to install a lock on the door.

Sam admits the situation is not ideal, but he is much happier now that he has a secure room.  He tells me his faith sustained him during this stressful episode and was thankful for the body of Christ in Glasgow who gave him so much support.

With this situation, a couple of things stuck out to me:
  • In our line of work, we seldom view the Home Office as an ally.  But in this situation I was impressed by their concern and how they acted to the best of their ability to make things better for Sam.  It was a good check on my own cynicism, as I met people in the Home Office who act from genuine concern and want to improve the situation for asylum seekers.  I’m guilty of painting with too broad a brush.
  • The church is not always known for its unity and love across denominational boundaries.  Sam has many Christian links in Glasgow and felt the unified Christ-like love and support of Christians and churches who define themselves differently and are often engaged in debate...  it was encouraging to see boundaries transcended and cooperation stemming from concern for a Christian brother in need. 
  • We often pray that people would know God’s comfort and peace in difficult times.  It almost becomes clichĂ©.  But Sam experienced (and still experiences) the promises of passages like Philippians 4:6 have a profound and sustaining reality.  I was also impressed that while Sam was having so much trouble, he was still bearing witness to Christ in the Iranian community.  One Iranian seeker recently told me that Sam is “One of the guys you can really trust.”  I thought Sam’s response to difficulty mirrored Paul's perspective in the opening of 2 Corinthians: Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God.  For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ. (Ch1v3-5)
  • I believe that God is concerned about justice and how a society treats the vulnerable; this particular housing provider is taking advantage of people in need and profiting from the fact that many of these people are afraid to speak out.  I see the authorities are also concerned about this situation and I imagine that this episode (and many others like it) could contribute to a change in housing provision in Glasgow.  We continue to pray that we might see the values of the kingdom reflected in how vulnerable people are housed in Glasgow. 
Posted by Paul and Emma at 6:22 pm | 3 comments  
Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Some of my favourite ministry books…


…aren’t written by theologians or missiologists.  They’re cookbooks.  Hospitality is a central part of our ministry and hospitality almost always involves food.  In our five years of working with refugees, this has been an adventure.  It has actually changed the way we eat, and thus it’s not an exaggeration to say the way we live (we now have a diverse selection of dried beans and lentils, buy 15 kilo bags of rice, and cook from scratch more often than not).  There are things in our pantry that I probably would not have recognised in my early twenties.  Noomi Basra?  Ful medames?  I wouldn’t be without them now.

But back to the cookbooks.  They’re wonderful tools when it comes to hosting refugee friends from the Middle East.  Not so much for the reason of cooking food that they are more used to.  Rather, these books open a window better understanding of their culture.

Two of my current favourites are considered ‘classics’ in Middle Eastern cookery:  A New Book of Middle Eastern Food by Claudia Roden (1985) and Middle Eastern Cookery by Arto Der Haroutunian (1982).  Interestingly, both of these books are much more than a collection of recipes.  They describe culture and customs associated with food and include many proverbs and folk stories.  It’s clear that food and cooking in Middle Eastern cultures is not a peripheral activity, but a central event around which the rest of life revolves.  As Roden observes, “The activities of cooking and eating reflect many subtly intricate facets of the Middle Eastern character and way of life.  They are intensely social activities, while the dishes hold within them centuries of local culture art and tradition.” 

Claudia Roden’s book is wonderful.  The recipes we’ve tried thus far have been tasty, but it’s Roden’s anthropological insights that make her book so illuminating.  I would actually suggest the “Introduction to the New Addition” as required reading for anybody working or hoping to work in the Middle East.  It’s one of the most lucid, respectful, and accurate descriptions of hospitality customs that I’ve come across.  She even manages to describe how traditional customs can exist, even when seemingly “Western” norms have been partially adopted, “Actions and words reveal an attachment to ancient tradition.  At buffet dinner parties in our house, for example, the guests stood far away from the table and had to be urged and pressed to eat.  Although the mechanics of the European table, the knife and fork, and the table napkin, hand been adopted, the hold Middle Eastern manners and rules of biensĂ©ance remained.”
 
Niamh also enjoys the cookbooks.
Arto Der Haroutunian’s book is more broad, as far as the food is concerned – he includes recipies stretching out to Azerbaijan.  In stark contrast to Roden’s careful observation, Haroutunian’s cultural commentary is more opinionated, humorous, politically incorrect, as well as prone to hyperbole.  It is worth keeping in mind that he writes as an Armenian whose family carried the memories of the 1915 Armenian Genocide.  In writing about the importance of burghul wheat for Armenians, he tells the following story, “For generations my people hidden in mountain ravines and caves lived on tzavar [burghul] and a little rice, when available, while the barbarian hordes [Seljuks and Mongols] ravaged our biblical land, destroying churches, castles, burring villages, everything, everything! that lay in their way.  But we survived thanks to the God given goodness of those tiny grains that possessed the waters of the seas, the rays of the sun and all the goodness of life.  Blessed is the Lord, blessed be the life giving grains of tzavar and rice.” 

Interestingly, both of these books are written by people who are from minorities in the Middle East.  Roden is a Sephardic Jew and Haroutunian an Armenian Christian.  If Roden is correct when she says, “Cooking in the Middle East is deeply traditional and non-intellectual – an inherited art… Its virtues are loyalty and respect for custom and tradition, reflected in the unwavering attachment to the dishes of the past,”  it probably took these people who are at once cultural insiders and outsiders to decode this culinary tradition and make it accessible to those of us who come new to age old culinary tradition.

Another cookbook worth a look is Taking Tea in the Medina by Julie Le Clerc.  Her book is possibly a bit more adapted to the Western palate than the two already mentioned, but the recipes are simple, tasty, and the photography of the Middle East is worth the cost alone.  It’s a beautiful book that would grace any coffee table; and ours, if we had one.

The great thing about sharing food is that it’s a chance for us to learn from our refugee friends, who know so much more about cooking rice than we do.  When refugees are in such a needy position, this turns the tables and they have the dignity of being able to give, not only receive.  We, in turn, can impart our great knowledge of potatoes (why some mash and others end up like a block of soap when boiled).  It seems like such a basic thing, but mutual sharing of hospitality – I believe – is deeply spiritual.


How to cook giraffe...
Christine Pohl who writes extensively on the theology of hospitality describes it better than I could in the follow quotes from her book Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition :

“Although we often think of hospitality as a tame and pleasant practice, Christian hospitality has always had a subversive, countercultural dimension… Especially when the larger society disregards or dishonors certain persons, small acts of respect and welcome are potent far beyond themselves. They point to a different system of valuing and an alternate model of relationships…People view hospitality as quaint and tame partly because they do not understand the power of recognition. When a person who is not valued by society is received by a socially respected person or group as a human being with dignity and worth, small transformations occur…Many persons who are not valued by the larger community are essentially invisible to it. When people are socially invisible, their needs and concerns are not acknowledged and no one even notices the injustices they suffer. Hospitality can begin a journey toward visibility and respect.”

“I believe that hospitality…means to give of yourself…(in) other types of services you can give of your talents or…skills or…resources…The tasks aren’t what hospitality is about, hospitality is giving of yourself.; If hospitality involves sharing your life and sharing in the lives of others, guests/strangers are not first defined by their need.  Lives and resources are much more complexly intertwined, and roles are much less predictable.”

Food for thought… (forgive the pun).



Posted by Paul and Emma at 5:17 pm | 5 comments  
Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Sharing on the move

Maurice Sinclair once wrote, “Programmes may be predictable; people never are.  For this reason, the unplanned encounters over meals, the friendships cemented and the spontaneous cooperative ventures may well prove the most valuable...”

Sinclair was writing about a church conference in Wheaton, but I felt his words also apply to serving refugees.  Indeed, people are never predictable; but even more so when they’re suffering from post-traumatic stress, don’t know where they will sleep next week, feel they are living in a culture hostile to their presence...

I was trying to meet regularly with an Iranian seeker who is seriously thinking about what it means to follow Jesus.  He was very keen to meet with me and read the Bible.  So I set a weekly time my dairy for when we could meet.  It worked sometimes, most of the time it didn’t… for a number of reasons.  My Iranian friend has no regular schedule.  He is destitute and has unpredictable housing situation.  I soon learned that meeting regularly for a traditional Bible study was totally impractical.   I began to pray that I would recognise and make the most of opportunities when and where they arise.

One occasion recently presented itself.  I had a great conversation with my Iranian friend as I gave him a lift home from St Rollox in our car.  He asked questions about passages from Matthew that he had been reading.  We also were able to speak openly and honestly about what it means to follow Jesus.   I felt that we started to address the crux of the concerns that lay behind his questions.  All of this on a 20 minute journey across town.  I’ve never been so thankful for traffic, as it allowed us more time to talk!

Car conversations have many advantages – they’re confidential and it’s difficult to avoid the subject at hand.  To be honest, trying to answer complicated questions about Jesus’ divinity while driving isn’t easy.  Yet it’s been good to be reminded that God isn’t confined to our schedules and programmes.  This is not to say that God doesn’t work through such things, but the guidance of the Spirit cannot be compartmentalised to convenient and/or scheduled times that suit me.

While the early church had regular meetings for teaching and fellowship (e.g. Acts 2:42), God can also call us to bear witness “on the move.”  For example, Philip jumping into the Ethiopian eunuch’s chariot, discussing prophecy about Jesus and sharing the good news.  That the eunuch eventually “commanded the chariot to stop” (Acts 8:38) suggests that earlier when, “Philip began to speak, and starting with this scripture, he proclaimed to him the good news about Jesus” (Acts 8:35), this conversation was happening, quite literally, on the move.  Yet for such openings to transpire, it does mean that we must be attentive and obedient to the Spirit’s call to “go over to this chariot and join it” (Acts 8:29). Or, in our day that might be, “Go and get on the bus with him.” Or, “Give that family a lift home.”

 
I used to feel a bit like a taxi driver soon after I got my British driving licence.  Now I view giving lifts as a great opportunity to get to know people better, to deepen relationships, and hear their stories.  Our teammate Andrew has many similar stories of encounters on the bus he takes across the city.  Pray that we will continue to be attentive to the Spirit’s prompting to unplanned encounters, no matter how surprising the location might be.


Posted by Paul and Emma at 2:35 pm | 4 comments  
Friday, September 30, 2011

Two recent reads

Kevin McKenna’s piece in The Observer about the positive impact of immigrants, asylum seekers, and refugees in Scotland makes for good reading.  His analysis is one that focuses on positives, describing the way Scotland has benefitted from such great diversity in the past ten years.  It's the sort of stuff that usually doesn't make it into the news, affirming what has gone well, what is good about our community.

I enjoyed the following:
Even when they are sending money back to other family members resident in their homelands, the UK's ethnic population is still benefiting us; the total of such remittances eclipses Britain's entire overseas aid bill. Even those whose asylum applications are unsuccessful can benefit our nation by learning new work skills. There are many Zimbabwean citizens in Scotland waiting for the death of the tyrant Robert Mugabe. When that day comes they will return to their country and use skills that Scotland has given them to nurse Zimbabwe back to health – an outcome that will benefit the world.

Everywhere you look in Glasgow, the benefits of cultural and ethnic diversity and of providing livelihoods for our migrant and refugee brothers and sisters are evident.

The children of these families have rekindled life in schools which would otherwise have closed long ago. To them, education is a prize, a priceless commodity to be cherished and their enthusiasm for it inspires our own children. In the workplace, those employers who have engaged with the Bridges Programmes have come to appreciate migrant workers' enthusiasm, drive and charisma. They are rarely absent, unlike our own permanently knackered workforce. And for those businesses that encounter their customers face to face what better way is there of attracting ethnic shoppers than having them served by members of their own communities?

I recently read a book that I stumbled across in the local library called This City Now by Ian R Mitchell.  The book tells the stories of working class communities in Glasgow that have been more or less forgotten in the city’s regeneration.  Mitchell’s analysis is clearly the fruit of much research and a love of Glasgow’s working class heritage.  The book gives a historical context to the current state of areas like Springburn and Possil; some of his insights are enlightening. 


On the other hand, Mitchell is prone to hyperbole, at times sounding ridiculous.  For example, he describes the working clasess in Edinburgh as “ghettoed into Bantustans.” His point is that Edinburgh’s working class doesn’t have the same presence in the capital’s city centre (as it does in Glasgow), but to draw parallels with apartheid in South Africa is gross overstatement.

Some of Mitchell’s insights are worth note though.  His description of Glasgow’s localism within a wider identity hits the nail on the head:
Glasgow, as are many big cities, is like a series of medium sized towns, whose inhabitants overlap at the city centre, or at places such as football grounds.  This was even more so in the days when industries were identified with areas, and inhabitants of specific area tended to work locally.  This multiplicity of apparent parochaialisms, is overlain, however, with a very strong sense of city identity.  Whether from Parkhead to Partick, the ruling motto is ‘Glasgow belongs to me’ – and there are no no-go areas for the Glasgow working class.
It is also interesting how he links the memorial of executed reformers John Baird and Andrew Hardie to the current situation of  people seeking sanctuary in Glasgow from places like Afghanistan, Zimbabwae, and Iran:
From the cemetery you overlook the housing of Sighthill, now home to many asylum seekers fleeing persecution abroad, and reminding us that even today not everyone has the rights and freedoms for which those like Baird and Hardie fought almost two centuries ago.  Sighthill has had its tensions over this asylum issue, but indications now are that community relations are improving.  Walking around there made me thing of the song Freedom Come All Ye by the late great Scottish writer Hamish Henderson, whose lines cite his hopes for the future:

When John Maclean meets wi his freens in Springburn
A the roses and geans will turn tae bloom

Black and white ane till ither mairreit
Can find bried, barley bree and painted room


Posted by Paul and Emma at 2:02 am | 0 comments  
Thursday, September 22, 2011

In the paper!


At Bishopbriggs International’s last match, there was a reporter and photographer from the local paper (the Bishopbriggs / Springburn Herald) to do a piece on our team and what we're doing.  We got a really good write up and a nice picture of the guys in their kit.  Unfortunately, the match kicked off a bit late so we couldn’t get the whole team in the photo, but still great to get in the local paper.

You can read the story on p.17 of the paper if you’re local.  For those of you not living in North Glasgow, I’ve put a scan of the article below (click on the image to see it at full size).

NB: the little person on the far right isn't in the team, but supports the team through pointing and shouting, "Kick! Ball! Go! Yeah!" during matches. 


For those of you wanting to know about the team's progress... we currently have an unbeaten record, though only won once -- drawn twice!  The team has been improving week by week and currently sit at a healthy 4th position in the Division 3 league table (check our progress here: http://goo.gl/xbvI6).  It is early days still, but I believe we will improve as the season moves on.

A picture of coach John giving some instruction and encouragement after a training session:



Posted by Paul and Emma at 5:32 pm | 2 comments  
Monday, September 05, 2011

Eid ul-Fitr


Many of our Muslim friends celebrated Eid on Wednesday.  Eid ul-Fitr marks the end of the month of fasting for Ramadan.  To celebrate, one of Emma’s friends from Algeria kindly brought us some of the sweets that she made to the St Rollox drop-in cafĂ©.  They were delicious.  Niamh enjoyed the biscuit stars especially. 
 


This year, I did notice an interesting dynamic amongst those who observed the fast.  I could put them into two groups…
> The first group constantly talked about how much they were fasting, above and beyond the requirements, even fasting an extra day(s) to ensure they didn’t celebrate Eid too early.
> The second group was quite honest about how difficult it was to fast during the Scottish summertime, when the days are so long and the nights so short.  They observed Ramadan diligently, but didn’t boast and tried to be sensible when discussing the issue of fasting for those who were ill.

It led to interesting discussions about how Christians fast and do other acts of devotion; or, how they should fast and show devotion.  Jesus’ words in Matthew 6 seemed rather appropriate:

Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven…
And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.

I made me think about how our Muslim friends view us Christians and our approach to seasons like Lent or Advent.  In many ways, preparation for Easter and Christmas is a public thing, but I found a helpful reminder that my public expressions of piety should not bring attention to me and strength of my devotion.  Rather, it should bring the attention to the One to whom I am devoted.




Posted by Paul and Emma at 5:19 pm | 0 comments  
Friday, September 02, 2011

Glasgow Patter

A number of people have asked me about the Glasgow accent.  Here’s a decent example of some Glasgow patter, in what is a pretty funny sketch:


Posted by Paul and Emma at 1:55 pm | 1 comments  
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