No Words Necessary

In honour of this upcoming Sunday I found some pictures that made me laugh and wanted to share them.

Vogue at the Portrait

I just got home from a trip to my past. Yes that's right children I was our twirling with the girls, well not exactly, girls you see they were more man than girl but they were better dressed than any woman there. The National Portrait Gallery sponsored a party to end the Faces of Fashion exhibit with a bang! Photographers were everywhere and they had cameras that roamed through the crowd and projected party images on the wall. Glam photo shots and sketches were done for all who desired and they DJ's were playing the best house music in town. It was the place to be.

The gallery invited three houses to give vogue lessons so one could strike our pose and be fabulous. My teaching session was given by the House of Egypt and House of Fierceness and let's just say these trannies just wanna have fun! It was a great time. It made me the fun I had back in the day and I am still looking forward to the offering a privileged few were in on. I wish that my camera was not broken because honey the girls were fierce and they put on a show. I took some pics with the phone but they do not do the evening justice.

As part of graduation, all had to strut their stuff into the party. Our runway was a two-story escalator in motion into the main gallery hall where the party was going on. We were lead in by the head drag-queen, "Princess" and she was followed by yours truly. Yes, it took a Yank to lead the way before the Brits.

After my debut, I mingled and had some great conversations with people. Telling a bunch of transvestites came to London to do ministry in the middle of a glam fest was no less than intriguing. I really enjoyed the mood and good time we had together and was sad that it had to end. Until my next twirl.

London Garden

One of my housemates, Ian, is a landscape designer and caretaker for a private park in Chelsea – He invited Kelley and myself to visit him at his work for lunch so we could have a peak into the life of luxury of British High Society.

We could not pass up the opportunity, so we left mid-morning for the 2-hour journey into the heart of London. It was well worth the trip! The park was Montpelier Square just a brief 3 minutes walk from Harrods, nestled between beautiful homes and smart restaurants where you could spend your days sipping Perrier. The sun was out and the sky was clear blue as we made our way to the south gate to meet our friend. Old lamps that are named after English kings surround the park - I imagine were oil-filled when originally installed. The gates around the garden were black wrought iron with a lovely ivy pattern, secured by tall gates which allowed you to peak into the sacred place.

We were met by a warm smile as Ian and his colleague, Stewart, showed off their handiwork, which won them a bronze medal in last years competition.

We were met by a sea of green, with dashes of brilliant colours. It was very lovely. A few thieving magpies were our only companions as the four of us dinned on our packed lunches in the cool shade on rustic wooden benches. We laughed and exchanged the stories you do when you are getting to know people and sharing in something special.

I really enjoyed this delicious treat in the heart of the city's opulence.

Harry Potter Angst

Being in London, I get to catch glimpses of the inspiration of the famed Harry Potter series. I am a fan of these books and I eagerly anticipate the coming of the last allotment in less than 30 days (yes I am counting). This morning I caught a glimpse of one of those Christian books that dissect the evils of the Potter when often they have not rear the book, seen the movies or had any kind of discussion with the author about her intentions and says so proudly as if they have staved off some incurable disease by avoiding all contact of 20 degrees of separation from the point of origin. So as you can surmise I was not delighted.

I guess as a Christian I would rather avoid the sterile approach to life. I would much rather explore things that are interest of people so that I might be able to meet them at their perspective instead of colliding with them in judgement and ignorance. I am not saying indulge in anything just to gain introspection – that would be stupid and irresponsible. There are some people who should avoid things they are sensitive to or know will cause them unnecessary trauma, but if you do not have a problem and you are not getting flashing red lights from your inner gut, maybe it is worth investigating. How can you comment on anything with any kind of efficacy unless you have first-hand facts upon which to base your knowledge

I often hear Christians say that Harry is becoming darker with each story so it is proof that the author is sinister and leading kids into the occult. Usually when people make this statement, I ask them if they have read the books or seen the movies, to which I get a blank stare. I usually walk away before I say something rash, but this time I asked how they could make such a statement with such fever without research? I listened to this person's biased apologetics, ignorant of honest examination, and started to question the logic. Can a person's life be "good" if they are becoming more moody and dark?

Well Potter fans know that Harry has been on a quest to know the truth of his story the his parents fate, and discover who he is destined to become all the while battling the source of his greatest pain in life – the wizard responsible for the deaths of so many people he loved. Not knowing how the series ends, I cannot help seeing themes that are of major import. Harry currently is coming to terms with the evil that touched his life and its effects – now isn't that the struggle of man? Just when we think we have conquered the beast outside of ourselves, don't we always have to deal with the beasts within? When we are struggling with our inner demons, do we not become confused, moody and at times a pain to be with? It does not mean that a person is intrinsically evil or aims to go that way because they are struggling, or have some Christians made it easier on themselves to categorize people into groups so they can avoid the messy ones and cultivate those deemed worthy according to a frame of reference that can be devoid of compassion.

I guess I see life more complicated than that and until you die your journey on this planet continues and can change without notice. That is what makes it interesting. I believe we are this dance with God where we can either lead or be lead. I think we struggle with ourselves over who will lead. He has no problem, but it is our choice. So we constantly turn and twist according to our wills – to me this is what makes the dance beautiful and graceful when viewed from a distance and perspective. One can not focus only on the footwork of the dance to determine the choreography's worth. Sometimes a mistake in footwork produces something new and interesting other times it is a blunder you try to recover from and laugh about later, but it does not mess up the dance. Maybe Harry's last dance will prove the critics right for their careful scrutiny of perceived missteps, but I prefer to watch the whole piece hoping that Harry's dance, as I hope my own, will flow with grace.

Play Football

I watched the Chelsea vs. Manchester United game today. I was pleased with the outcome of the game but I have to admit it was one of the most boring matches I had seen in a long time. Talk about a yawn fest!

Both teams are excellent, played well and were perhaps so evenly matched that it things seemed tranquil on the pitch most of the time. I mean there was no underdog to cheer for or hope to be obliterated depending on your pleasure.

But in the back of my mind I kept screaming, just play the game with some passion! They all seemed so careful not to foul or offend, that the spirit of the game was lost. Is this where profession sports is going? Where the players focus more on keeping down their fines over playing the game all out?

Don't get me started! I will not go on to make this a metaphor on life, Christianity etc because it's been done, but man I really would have liked to seen a game that kept me on the edge my seat. Wouldn't you?

In Pursuit of Weightlessness

Last weeK at the National Portrait Gallery I had the pleasure of listening to Ivan Putrov, a principle dancer from the Royal Ballet, who recently returned from a knee injury that kept him from dancing for 11 months. He quoted from one of Waldemar Janusczak’s critiques were he describes the plight of a ballet dancer, “Spotlit on a stage, isolated from the quotidian demands of the heartbeat, out of reach of the basic rhythms of life, the ballet dancer dreams of the divine state of weightlessness. But — and here we get to the nub of their tragedy — the only time humans ever really achieve that state is when they are dead. Thus, ballet, with its insatiable appetite for zero gravity, is the most tragic of all the arts.”


I really related to this quote because in a way I feel that Christianity his similar in that way. One of the things that we try to achieve is to usher in God’s kingdom here on earth but like weightlessness, we can only achieve such a feat when we are quite literally dead. I mean when we allow ourselves to die to our own agenda, since of entitlement, and greed to name a few, we position ourselves so that we are willing to give more and be more in and to the world we live in. In fleeting moments that humanity achieves such a thing it is beautiful and awe inspiring, much like seeing the ballet dancer who is able to leap with extraordinary ease into the heavens with legs and arms fully extended, gracefully released from the pull of the earth. It takes your breathe away.

It is my dream that Christians would desire to take the worlds breathe away as we lay our lives down and pursue the “weightlessness” of bringing God’s dreams and desires into fruition on this earth. So few people achieve the status of Prima Ballerina, maybe that is why few Christians set out for the task and even less continually strive to remain there. Both ballet and Christianity require countless hours of painful sacrifice and daily practice (which no one sees) to achieve something momentary, and when the moment has passed one goes back to the basics until the next moment presents itself.


In order to effect change in the world by ushering in God’s perspective cannot be done, in my opinion, with picket signs and boycotts. Nor will it be achieved by prayer and fasting alone. It requires action - signing up for a suicide mission. I also believe we (Christians, humanity, etc) need to ditch the idea that true fulfilment comes when we train ourselves to resist our desires. I see things differently - when you die, your deepest desires fulfilled, this is when you become weightless as Janusczak put it so aptly. When you pursue the One who created you and knows you best the crap just falls away, making room for that which is pure, lasting and most satisfying. Crazy yes, but I think it is crazy enough to work.

The Dream Team Assembled

Kelley arrived! Our dream team is officially here. It seems like this day would never come…the three of us (Kelley, Lourens and I) actually say down in the same country to pray and work together.

There is much to do and the momentum is mounting. It seems like we need an extra 10 hours a day to get things done. Lourens left for Brussels and Amsterdam on Saturday, while Kelley and I am working arduously on the charity registration. There is a great chance that we could have all the paperwork done by next week. After that, we tackle our visas!

I love my team!

Blank

Today I visited a big church in London, (that shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) and I walked away feeling slimed. The worship was amazing and the people seemed genuine and friendly. The head of the children's ministry shared about giving in a way that was challenging and inspiring. I started question my whole scepticism of mega-church thing. I could really see myself becoming part of a place; making it my spiritual home and creating lasting friendships...

Then the pastor spoke and my dream was shattered. He was the type of guy that spends all his time telling you how cool and different he is because he does not buy into "church stuff" or "religion" and then does what everyone else does. Yuck! I mean come on! Are you kidding me? In a country where vicars are wearing robes and pastors have on suits, putting on Diesel jeans and leather jacket to be trendy does not make you a trendsetter.

Maybe it is me, maybe I am looking for something that does not exist outside my memory or California. I beg the question…where have all the freaks gone - the people who are marching to God's rhythm and creating ripples in society that create waves of change. I know they are out there; I just need to keep looking.

Angry God?

I found this article online and sent this article out to my regular supporters, but I wanted to share it with my friends as well....

Was Jesus Mean? By Dr. Ray Pritchard

I confess to never having thought about the question until a friend raised it in an email recently.

Was Jesus mean? The answer, obviously, is no. I think the question is meant to highlight a deeper issue. Why are some of the followers of Jesus so mean if he wasn't? I don't know that I can adequately answer that question without going back to the question of Jesus himself.

Jesus was not mean, but he could be very, very tough. He sometimes used very strong language when speaking to people he regarded as hypocrites. In a withering excoriation of religious hypocrisy in Matthew 23, he compared the scribes and Pharisees to whitewashed tombs, which is a worse insult than it sounds because the religious leaders prided themselves on their outward righteousness. He could be tough on his own followers also. In Mark 8:14-21 he tells his disciples that they are spiritual blind and have hard hearts. When he appeared to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, he calls them "foolish ones" and "slow of heart to believe" (Luke 24:25). He told certain Jewish leaders in John 8:44, "You are of your father the devil." The notion that our Lord was always "gentle Jesus, meek and mild," as if he spent his days saying nice things to make people feel better is only possible if you never read the gospels.

He was gentle and meek and mild and kind. But that's not the whole story.

He also demanded that his followers commit themselves to him wholeheartedly.

He had no patience for hypocrites who took advantage of others while ignoring their own sin.

Say what you want about Jesus, but don't forget that he took a whip and overturned the tables of the moneychangers, driving them out of temple precincts because they had made a house of prayer into a den of robbers.

Jesus could be very, very tough.

But was he mean? The answer may rest in the eye of the beholder. Perhaps some of the Pharisees and those moneychangers whose tables he overturned thought he was mean. After all, it was precisely because of his righteousness that they plotted to put him to death. His zeal for God aroused envy that turned to murderous hatred.

But was he mean? A quick check of the dictionary gives us these definitions and synonyms: offensive . . . selfish . . . nasty . . . malicious . . . small-minded . . . contemptible . . . petty . . . cruel . . . vindictive.

None of those words applies to Jesus. Isaiah 42 speaks of God's servant who will come to establish justice in the land. It is a prophecy of the coming of Christ to the earth. The prophet says of the Servant of the Lord that "He will not shout or raise his voice in public"(v. 2 NLT). That seems like a good standard for evaluating our actions. Mean people use threats to get their way. They shout because they are angry and fearful of losing control. They raise their voice when they would be better served by remaining calm. Mean people use ridicule and biting sarcasm to put others down. They are contentious and unkind and they mistreat others and don't think anyone of it.

Was Jesus mean? No, but he could be very, very tough. I admit there is a fine line here, but I also say that Jesus never came close to crossing that line. He was tough when he needed to be tough and tender when he needed to be tender. He knew how to treat each person exactly as they deserved to be treated. That includes blind beggars, sincere questioners, little children and proud Pharisees. Everyone got what they needed from Jesus. Some of them, like the rich young ruler, went away sorrowful, others marveled, the common people loved him, and many of the rulers hated him for his honesty.

So why are some of Jesus' followers so mean? I can't answer that question, but I know I need to look into the mirror and think about my own life. A mean Christian is not just a contradiction in terms; it is a terrible slander on our Lord. When Christians are mean, when we raise our voices in anger, when we use cruel words to hurt and not to heal, we give outsiders yet one more reason to disregard what we believe.

…It makes you think. Alycia

Bureaucracy is everywhere

Remember my TIA entry? Well maybe this one should be titled TIB, this is Britain! All the jokes about queuing and having a department for everything under the sun seemed to crash into my reality.

I am in the throws of importing my personal items to the UK from South Africa. I hired a forwarding agent in SA to complete all the forms for Britain and read the new legislation (changed 26 March) to make sure all was in order. Every person I spoke to in the HM Revenue and Taxes assured me that all was well and I only had to pick up items with my passport at arrivals.

Day One:

My second day here, I called the number for freight at Gatwick. The phone rang for no less than 3 minutes then I was cut off. I made subsequent attempts but no one ever picked up.

Day Two:

I checked the calendar to make sure there were no holidays I was forgetting and tried again. No luck. I called their branch at Heathrow to confirm the number, spoke with several supervisors who all told me that the number I had was correct. One gentleman told me he spoke with the Gatwick offices earlier that day so I was assured to keep calling. It was even suggested that I check the phone line.

Day Three:

Called Heathrow again to check the status of the shipment that was flying today. I was told that I was mistaken and the freight would not leave SA until the next day and I would need to hire a UK agent because civilians can not self clear packages as it was strictly ruled out by HM Customs as of 26 March. A supervisor went so far to take the number of my South African agent to give them an earful. As he read through the documents to me over the phone (the same one I had been using), his voiced trailed off as his mouth pronounced the words I so carefully quoted to him 3 hours previously. To this he offered apologies and passed me on to yet another person.

This person proceeded to tell me my items actually arrive the previous day and that I was going to be charged stowage unless I could process customs in the remaining 15 minutes before they closed. Which meant, I would have to hire an agent who miraculously could process my documents 24 hours a day. So I rushed the documents to the forwarding agent, only to be told the items were only leaving Jo'burg that evening for arrival at Heathrow in the morning, then transport to Gatwick by early afternoon.

Day Four:

My items arrived at Heathrow and I am now prepared with documents in hand to complete the transactions myself sans the agent. I have doted my "i's" and crossed all my "t's" – I was ready for anything they would dish out. Until I was told that the items would not go to Gatwick until this evening …Friday evening (as the day crew was in training), meaning customs would be closed until Tuesday (May Day on Monday so they are closed). All this translated to three days of stowage charges or hiring an agent all at about £200 more than I was intending to spend. The cherry on top, was the agent telling me I would have filed the previous day after-hours for processing in the morning.

I love bureaucracy!

A Lively Bunch of Vicars!

Tonight I witnessed the induction and licensing of a new vicar and wife into the Romford parishes St. John's and St. James' of the Anglican Church. I was invited by my host Lyn Hunt to meet the new couple as 13^thFLOOR may work with them.

One of my friends leaned over and joked about it being a party for old men in dresses, as per tradition, the vicars, bishops and archbishops donned their finest for such and occasion – that is the traditional long black robes with the white frilly shirts beneath complete with black armbands to hold the frilled sleeves together (as worn before the invention of cufflinks). I was expecting the evening to hold little spunk but I was pleasantly surprised.

The sermon by the Archbishop of Barking was about our mission as the church to dig deep into the neighbourhoods God plant us in and effect change from within, rather than looking down on people as charity cases we are to take pity on. He also challenged the new parish couple to lead in this by example as well as in instruction. It was quite inspiring.

The traditional licensing, replete with giving of keys, promenades and numerous prayers and congregational responses, was uncharacteristically littered with humour and thoughtful asides. All in all it was a pleasant evening and these particular vicars were far from stuffy.

Driving in Kent

Believe it or not I drove for my first time in the UK. I have driven in many other European cities but London has been one I have avoided vehemently. Every time I saw the aggressive way the drivers attacked the road and often each other, it really put me off. Why drive when you can catch the tube, take a bus or walk anywhere you want to go – often faster and cheaper than in a car.

My friend Suzanne is entering her 36^th week of pregnancy and she let her licence lapse, so I have become her chauffer of sorts to help her out. She live in Chiselhurst, which is in Kent, where the roads are narrow and the scenery is lush and green this time of year. We needed to fetch her husband from the station last night because he had too many things to carry or so he would have us believe.

And of course they have a SAAB sedan in impeccable shape, which was parked in a lot that could only be described as an obstacle course – each neighbour parks their Jag, Range Rovers and Mercedes as they please in parking area that is common to the surrounding three homes. No pressure! Everything was different, the console looked like that of a jet while the gearbox consisted of some ancient Chinese secret to lend it self to reverse.

I took a deep breathe and eased the car pack. I was frightened when the parking assistant started to ring, letting me know there was a multi-thousand pound vehicle at my rear. Eventually I found my footing and eased through the narrow gate that leads into traffic. I was to go left, so I reached for what I thought was the turn indicator only to turn on the windshield wipers. Passing motorist looked as perplexed as I felt in that moment. Eventually I found the indicator on the opposite side of my familiarity and turned off the offending wipers. I had embarrassed my self, so it was time to try again. I made it to the station and back with out further events. Andrew, Suzanne's husband complimented me on my driving and enjoyed being driven around for a change.

Today Suzanne and I ran errands in the neighbouring towns. I had the discomfort of driving down streets svelter than a super-model's waist with cars parked on either side with oncoming traffic. It was like driving on a tight rope! Then I came to the mystical London circle where everyone knows the rules but abandons them in favour of personal convenience. I took a deep breathe and entered the large circle that had about 5 exits, 2 of which were ones that I could not enter. We made it through without incident.

When we made it home and I turned off the ignition and exclaimed, "I've been baptised!"