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Saturday, November 08, 2003
There are times when you feel in a void Drowning in a sea of people rushing around To nowhere, it seems So I seek a hand and Yeshuah, the compassionate, The lover, the beloved, comes Lucky me, lucky you When that happens, walk on then 
JUST A CLOSER WALK WITH THEE Just a closer walk with Thee, Grant it, Jesus, is my plea, Daily walking close to Thee, Let it be, dear Lord, let it be. I am weak, but Thou art strong; Jesus, keep me from all wrong; I’ll be satisfied as long As I walk, let me walk close to Thee. Through this world of toil and snares, If I falter, Lord, who cares? Who with me my burden shares? None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee. When my feeble life is o’er, Time for me will be no more; Guide me gently, safely o’er To Thy kingdom shore, to Thy shore. 
Saturday, November 01, 2003
Halloween It was in Ireland, Belfast, in 1947, that I experienced the Irish way of celebrating All Saints Day, preceded by the All Saints vigil. After vespers and supper, we gathered in the community room, and lo and behold, apples: red, yellow, green, hung from the ceiling, held by frail strings. Gently waving in a non existant breeze! Blind folded, we groped through the appleforest, mouth wide open, straining to put our teeth into one single apple, keep it firmly, take off the fold from your weary eyes, chew, eat, dance irish jig till dawn! 
That was the traditional "Bobbing for apples"! It was fun. What is Halloween' origin? The WEB tells me that "Hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, the Celts, inhabitants of Britain and Ireland, observed a festival on October 31st. The Celts and their priests, the Druids, celebrated Samhain, a festival that marked the eve of the Celtic New Year, which began on November 1". In the 700 AD, this festival was replaced by a celebration of all the "hallowed ones" who had lived godly lives in the Spirit of the risen Jesus. So November 1 came to be called All Saints' Day, also called "All Hallows' Day". The evening before was called "All Hallows' Evening". From that we get the modern name of "Hallow even", in short: Halloween. Quite cheerful! We, all of us, no matter who, no matter where, are Saints, that is created by Love, our Abba! And of course: "in Christ there is no longer Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for all are one..." (Galatians 3:28) Just Saints! 
So we can say "happy feast" to each other to morrow. With autumn flowers in the north, spring blossoms in the south and golden dust between the two! We are "Saints marching on" to where we come from! Tuesday, October 28, 2003
RAMADAN I remember so well the times I worked, with heart, mind and soul amongst the Salt River people, Cape Town. In Saint Francis' Parish! We were indeed the "coloured" and a colourful community struggling to live together under the rule of Apartheid! We were Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Animists, amid many many Muslims. Others still! 
I use to leave my "Holy Cross Community" in the early morning to return late afternoon. The larger, "coloured" Salt River people was my home. My God given Mission! We educated each other in many ways. Poverty was written in shaking letters on the smiling faces of young and old. We shared the little we had, which was the only way to survive. How much true friendship flourished from the sharing, I can't tell. That was daily fasting, in fact it was simply sharing. My closest neighbours were muslims. Each day, during my free time, at the St Francis Centre, just opposite their tiny dwelling, I could rest a bit, pray, take notes, prepare for the afternoon action-groups. And each day, I knew, the muslim man, would cross over to the "stoep of the Centre", bringing me, in his beautiful, amber, finely chiselled hands, à plate of rice-curry with pieces of chicken and a bit of chutney sauce! Everyday God made! Also during the Holy Ramadan fast, (like yesterday, Monday, 27th October 2003), towards midday, when the blazing sun was at the zenith, the Muslim friend came over to me, the Christian sister, with the plate of food while he and the family would fast till sunset! His beautiful dark eyes spoke of friendship. Alaha's universal friendship! I just gratefully said: "Baie Baie dankie Oupa!" Merci beaucoup, papa. Even today, I feel nourished by the Muslim friends, their humble, discreet giving of food, during Ramadan time, to a mere stranger like me. Here, in Switzerland. 
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
To vote or not to vote: that is the question 
The swiss candidates: they are legions! The candidate Once upon a time, a man tramped the highways and byways of Palestine, Galilee, Samaria, from Nazareth to Bethlehem, to Egypt, back to Nazareth, to Jerusalem, with no other itinerary than to go do good to fellowmen met along the way, and, at the end of the day, spent, thirsty, hungry, cold and Oh! so lonely, finding no home to sleep. "The son of man found not a stone upon which to lay his beautiful head" (Lc 9, 58: Mt 8, 20). 
The candidate That Man, Jesus of Nazaeth, founder and first leader of the movement whose members would struggle on to create a society in which people felt at home! The candidate He had no "political programme" apart from what he himself did. That is: be at the level of the people he served. Empowering the little people for action. Simply love, since, after all, to love and be loved, concretely, is the only meaning in life. To-night still, I am bewildered at the swiss electoral agents' endless chatting, squabbling, wanting at all cost power, not, it seems, to empower the powerless people to assume their destiny, but to rule them, dominate them, win their hearts and minds to the inescapable loyalty to an economic system securing the survival of a few rich in a land that has lost its beautiful, agrarian soul! Yeshua's faith and mine: those who merely rule to survive are condemned to die and those who die a thousand deaths live on even here and now. Utopian? The ultimate reality! 
So yes, we go on voting. For a better world. Friday, October 17, 2003
What a beautiful mystery life is, a painful mystery I know a child who didn't ask to be born he didn't ask to be different from the others nor to be struck by meningitis soon after birth nor to journey through life, year in and year out, carrying on his frail shoulders, a far too heavy, beautifully carved and curly head filled to the brim with music and poems to scatter love, plentifully, to scatter to the four corners of the earth! Tons and tons of it! 
"He's not like the others", whispered some, awkwardly, as they passed by, he heard it all and said nothing! Told me later! His gaze understanding "those not like him!" In those days, meningitis mostly killed its prey he lived and lives on still, suffering, Oh! yes! so close to another fellowman born "not like the others" Jesus, of Nazareth village, apprentice carpenter, a lover! In Jesus, in Jean: no bitterness. Storms and revolts appeased life goes towards its fulfilment. A life meaningful in pain and and pleasure, joy, tears and laughter and Oh! so filled with love and light, not quite as the "world gives it" but simply as Love man MAN lives it! Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Yom Kippour Repentance Day 
Moses on the road to the promised Land as the pilgrims plod on and on, on his footsteps! he lingers a few moments with Yahweh his beloved friend while Aaron, fearing the angry, impatient crowd, gives in to them and makes a calf out of their golden tits and bits! Freed from Pharaons' slavery, they give themselves as slaves to the calf, their new golden master Thanks to Moses, the new slaves repent, Yahweh forgives! Like Yeshuah, his beloved child, does today still in our golden calves ridden modern world 
"Share bread and wine and water" says he to the little people of the land, here I am with you Yom Kippour today, here and now Saturday, October 04, 2003
Il poverello Francis of Assisi: where do we find his spirit of compassionate love and freedom? In Assisi, built, shaken by earthquake and rebuilt? In a multitude of holy places? May be. In Mount Alverna? May be too. Francis' spirit moves, I think, in contacts with our Muslims friends to day as in Francis' own days: "Francis got an audience with Sultan Malek-el-Kamel. They met and listened to each other. They respected each other and built bridges of understanding". Francis' spirit moves in people all around him and far beyond: especially in the poor, the sick, the lepers, his brothers, his sisters, the outcasts of all sorts. 
Francis' spirit moves all around in creation, when the birds sing, the lambs and goats bleat; Francis speaks with the wolves, the cats, the dogs as he does with people, as he does with his God and mine. Francis is simply part and parcel of creation and knows it! 
Francis is way beyond the structures and rulings of any system, any organization, any hierarchy. He is a free man. Freed by his daring love. To be a franciscan, to claim a franciscan spirituality? In closed up, self protecting institutions? What a challenge! Friday, October 03, 2003
Our homeboy: JM Coetzee South Africa's latest Nobel Prize-winner, 
Swedish Academy permanent secretary Horace Angdahl said: "We are convinced of the lasting value of J.M. Coetzee's contribution to literature. I'm not speaking of the number of books, but the variety, and the very high average quality. He is a writer that will continue to be discussed and analysed." Although, J.M. Coetzee is not very wide read in his natal land, he has had a strong influence on a generation of young black and white writers, including Mike Nicol, Ivan Vadislavic, Zoe Wicomb and Zakes Mda. "We can be proud of our homeboy," said Professor Stephen Gray, an author friend of his. " (From Mail and Guardian 3rd October 2003) J.M. Coetzee, like others, is no prophet in his own country, simply because he tried, in his book "Disgrace" (1999) to show the complexity of post apartheid society, when it comes to relationship, love and living together in a timidly, painfully emerging rainbow nation. 
Some ANC members in power today, accused Coetzee of racism, but no, his writing show clearly that he is most "colourfully colourblind" and we treasure our own Madiba, Nelson Mandela, congratulation of the homeboy: "For a small country here on the southern tip of Africa to have produced two Nobel Prize winners in literature is indeed a remarkable achievement," Mandela said in a statement. "He (J.M. Coetzee) might have emigrated but we shall continue to claim him as our own. His consistent portrayal of the violence and distortions of colonialism and apartheid have made him an intellectual hero in the history of our country." He left his beloved South Africa for self imposed exile in Australia 2 years ago. Coetzee writes: "I am not a herald of community or anything else. I am someone who has intimations of freedom (as every chained prisoner has) and constructs representations of people slipping their chains and turning their faces to the light." 
Guardian angels: happy feast! I need not say why, in South Africa, we all had such a lively devotion to our Guardian Angels! One thing is sure: they had no skin colour and they were colour blind! So we happily broke apartheid laws knowing the angels, our beloved "security police", were around to keep away the other police and help us be prudent and wise in our struggle! 
"Guardian Angel from heaven so bright, Watching beside me to lead me aright, Fold thy wings round me, and guard me with love, Softly sing songs to me of heaven above. Amen." we sang and sang angels songs and feared not for their presence was lke a gentle powerful breath of wind and still is, to this very day, as we build this rainbow South African Nation 
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Rendez-vous This beautiful, life filled French expression: also used in English Two or more people will meet: where, when? That is important We don't ask "what for"? Because, it is so obvious that it is just for the pleasure to be together, to share thoughts, and food for thought and food for the body, and a drink 
we just come, greet, kiss, hug, sit, and sometimes stay still time has stopped because we truly are alive while the communion of being together in friendship takes place it is not a working get together, nor a dinner party, nor a planning session, nor a workshop of some sort, nor a birthday or weddingday nor a carefully planned liturgy. It is no entertainment. It just IS life! 
Rendez-vous: is just a being together in friendship, love, care, words are few, powerful, life giving, people driven, earth bound heaven bound (which is the same) It is music, melody, inner rythme it seems to me, in such grace lit encounter, that, the sorrows turn into sunset peace, that frustrations turn into on going ploughing that dryness and drought give way to morning dew and gentle rain that the earth lives again under my feet and in my soul, to go forth having been strengthened in our Rendez-vous, to meet all whom I meet and include them, embrace them in a mystical rendez-vous hug where Yeschouah is guest and host: the where, the when, the what for have vanished into a love-filled life-filled presence! Amazing Grace! 
Pope John-Paul Ist The gentle, Christlike, smiling pope died of a heart attack 25 years ago, after just 33 days of work in the vatican! It was on September 28th 1978. The circumstances of his death remain clouded in "things not said but just supposed". The media are rather quiet about this gentle pope. The vatican authorities refused the autopsy that so many people asked for, because they were shocked by the suddenness of John-Paul's demise. His parents, brothers and sisters were not rich, but they loved each other and people. His father was a glass-blower. I imagine he was artistic and made beautiful objects. Here is Albino Luciani as a child 
He never pursued, judged. condemned anyone. His smile came from the heart and told people: I love you, Jesus loves you. Let's go forward together on our pilgrimage on earth with all people, races, with the rich and the poor, the young and the old. Our little planet is fragmented, let's build God's planet of Justice and Peace. The best we can. He had a rather tough 33 days in the vatican. Those in religious power feared this smiling pope's poweful humility, so Christlike. But Albino Luciani went on to the bitter end. 
"The Life and Death of each of us has its influence on others" (Romans 14:7) You need not live endlessly long lives to be someone great! Jesus's official preaching and healing time lasted three years only. That's why His Mission goes on even today and tonight. Rest in Peace and stay with us, dear, smiling, human, people loving pope! 
Friday, September 26, 2003
My friend We meet at bus stops, or in public transports of some sort her smile falls on me like warm sunshine: Hi! Sister, she twitters, we sit on a bench while the busses go on their way, we'll catch the next or the next. How precious is this gift encounter, just by sheer chance and grace! Give thanks to Jesus! She does some charring in offices down in the Flon, just for a bit of money to go on a pilgrimage to Lourdes, some day, she beams 
She is a "Filipino", my friend, one of the 7000 phillippine islands, is her birthplace, poor, no electricity so no nervosity, says she with a grin that tickles me. But many birds, Oh! birds, what a music "Oh! were it but for the wings of a dove", I muse In her family, 20 children make a living and sharing community: her mum died giving birth and her dad passed away, exhausted but "we love each other, it is calm over there" and pain floats in her beautiful eyes, just for a split second! How she landed in Switzerland, in Lausanne, how she married this very nice railway man who comes back home to supper every evening at 7 p.m., I don't know, nor do I care. She's here. What impresses me, what instructs me, is the way she gazes at the little "Sister Cross" that hangs round my neck she need not say: "I love him", I feel her love of Jesus in my heart. 
She just looks like my friend, I love her! Monday, September 22, 2003
Car free day Did you see "love Bug"? You laugh your heart out as the "love Bug runs after its driver"! I enjoyed it! the movie somehow befriends you with both "Driver and Bug" 
Quite another thing is the "One man one car" life threatening drive! At every street corner! No love Bug there. That is the daily roar and race! Pedestrians beware and keep close to the walls! 
A car free day: it feels so good, dawdling down the road just for one day, one precious day Furthermore, I find friends in the public transports: young, old, pretty, ugly, all going the same way to the next stop: unload, upload, go! 
By the way side: the walkers walk breathing cleaner air, feeling good, physically feeling blest in their soul! Yeshua in their midst Saturday, September 20, 2003
Bulle, Fribourg, Lausanne and elsewhere around the world 
So much anxiety, pent up anger, fears, tears and violence it dawns on me that Jesus has seen it all, lived it all, long before loving, he turned death into life, we keep forgetting, Oh! why? he keeps turning death into life through me and you we keep remembering, forgetting, remembering again reminding one another again I hear it again: "Tell those anxious of heart, timid of heart, fearful of heart (like mine at times!): strengthen your weak hands, steady your trembling knees Comfort one another Yeshua is at work, he is right here with me this moment as ever the lame springs up just like a deer, the feeble-footed jumps like a roe IS:35:3 
Isn't that EMPOWERMENT? the salt in the soup and the yeast in the dough? Oh! the bread is rising! Thank you for reminding me, dearest, precious Friends! 
Sunday, September 14, 2003
Feast of the Cross 
14th September: birthday of my pen friend, Genaro Ruiz Camacho: he would be 48 today, but he is not here, he is just round the corner of the earth: in heaven, thinking of all those who love him. Mexican Indian, exiled in Texas, he is "picked up" like hundreds before and hundreds after him, condemned to death. Eight years in Huntsville death row. He kept appealing, Trying to prove his innocence. In vain. The then Governor of Texas, George W. Bush refused clemency. Gino is executed by lethal injection on August 26th 1998 
Gino and I wrote to each other regularly, cheerfully, at times desperate and angry, and again knowing Jesus is part of this struggle. Gino introduced me to his granny, his mum, his beautiful wife Victoria and their four children: we are friends. So many friends joined in, appealing to stop the execution. To no avail. Gino died saying: "I'll be with you, I'll be waiting for you in heaven I love you all" (and to me: it's a new beginning, see you soon!). We wept, mourned, rejoiced! Happy birthday, Gino! You so loved wild mexican flowers! 
Saturday, September 13, 2003
He's dead Johnny, but no, "we die to live" the country songs' singer, Johnny sings now in God's kingdom in perfect harmony, he sang little people's feelings on the way trying to love one another today's psalms, today's people with Yeshua, singing Good News we walk the line, sometimes tight rope, and we get there thank you Johnny, we keep singing I WALK THE LINE Johnny Cash 
I keep a close watch on this heart of mine, I keep my eyes wide open all the time, I keep the ends out for the ties that bind, Because you're mine, I walk the line. I find it very, very easy to be true, I find myself alone when each day is through, Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you, Because you're mine, I walk the line. You've got a way to keep me on your side, You give me cause for love that I can't hide, For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide, Because you're mine I walk the line. As sure as night is dark and day is light, I keep you on my mind both day and night, And happiness proves that I'm right, Because you're mine I walk the line. 
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Daily prayer before my beloved planet "At times, I ask myself: are we on the right planet?" (Samuel Beckett said it!) 
What is beyond questioning is, that I, and my fellowmen, are bound, willy-nilly to this very planet and no other, for better for worse generation after generation blossom a while, die away giving birth to the next yet I feel sad in my heart, dear Jesus, because your creation so beautiful, tender, loving is also so desperately violent, hideous Why stab Anne Lind to death? Sergio de Mello and those around him, David Kelly driven insane with pain, the american, irakian, british, nigerian young soldier boys forced to kill; the little old people dying by the thousand of heatwaves in France, just surviving elsewhere Why AIDS? why orphans, widows, strangers unwelcome 
an awful mystery: beauty and hideousness, truth and untruth, rich and poor, war and peace, water and thirst, bread and hunger? it baffles me as I silently pray before my beloved planet, your creation and ours, dear Creator divine. I then listened, for the first time in my life like a kindergarten unkowing kid, to St John's Passion, by J.S. Bach and began to see ever so dimly, the tension, the dialectic one could say, inherent to nature and Oh! the meaning of Yeshua's creative love, even now as I share bread and a glass of red wine with my neighbour Monday, September 08, 2003
Blogger close to my heart! 
True, it wasn't child's play to get acquainted, (guided by Christian, by Philippe), with my Blog "homepage". I felt at times "ancient", which of course I am, sometimes I asked for help, some dear friends were a little scared of the english I so dearly love. I dream in english, see that?! Sometimes I made fatal errors and Philippe and Christian sweated it out to put all things right I studied and studied Blogger's Support, tried, and tried at times making a hopeless mess, although not always so stupid, because that's the way one learns, say wise people, young and old behold, last week, I ventured to contact Blogger's team got through, a friendly exchange of mail took place till Blogger's doc could clearly could see what my problem was and oh! so very simply: mend it! With kind regards! said my Blogger's friends to me with some sort of rye smile: "lucky you, Claire Marie, to be with Blogger, such friendly, efficient help, that's GOLD! It is." 
Every child is my child that was our deepest conviction in South Africa's difficult times, even until today Every human being is my brother it remains my conviction even here in a society so frozen cool! Jesus says so, and so it is, what a challenge! I have a brother who believes, declares, lives out most concretely the universal brotherhood of men and creatures, nature, sun, moon and stars included for years now, we spend Sunday afternoon together in St Ursanne by the river Doubs it frequently happens that we just play scrabble and sing songs both old and new words full of wisdom and mellow melodies mixed with today's rock pop and gospel heartbeat! desperate urge to live and be true! thisrty, hungry for just a few drops of pure water a few crumbs of deep brown bread famished for truth and for LOVE what is Love, Who is Love? Words only? nay: the Word made man in everyman saint and sinner alike! That is LOVE! 
here he is: I am his sister see the christic light, the cosmic light the divine vibrations that, on one blessed day became a form, a man, a brother Love made man Sunday, July 20, 2003
17th, 18th 19th July 2003 Happy Birthday, Madiba ! From prisoner to president, you continue to inspire us all ! Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela was born during the First World War on July 18, 1918, at Mvezo on the banks of the winding Mbashe River, also known as the Bashee. « What a life, dear Madiba, each day filled with acts of love… and acts of love call to birth constructive acts of love... I thank you in my own name, because you teach me to love to forgive… to live out compassion like our Yeshuah, dear Madiba but above all you give me the strength to stand up and be counted and keep doing what I believe is true: spread the Good News of Jesus concretely... to day you are here… when you have gone beyond sorrows and heartaches… when you have reached the goal … after the last mile of a long long road to FREEDOM… stay still with us, walk with us… live with us as we keep moving on along the bridges we build as we walk… 
We love you Madiba, and as for me, Oh ! I love you so… » Tutu said: "Thank you for teaching us to forgive. We thank you for your compassion. Thank you for being a beacon of hope… » (part of this entry, except from my own birthday wishes, is taken from today’s Mail and Guardian, which I thank) Saturday, July 05, 2003
Oh ! to be loved and to love I know what it means to be loved.… unconditionaly… I lived it in my body and in my soul and so I know what the love of Yeshua does and means to me and to you my brother, my sister… my friends... Oh ! what a beautiful song when he plays with his hands on my heart 
that wealth of love, let me share it with you my friends wherever I find you, in daylight or starlit night we are created with no other purpose but to love each other concretely and say it, sing it play it… that’s all 
Thursday, July 03, 2003
In Zurich Airport today… I saw : the life experience, reducing to ashes my faith and commitment for a better world : the Kingdom of God ! WHY ? Institutions of any kind can’t bear the appearance of a prophet in their midst : They better go ! they disturb our peace they speak of Life and we have chosen peace, comfort and death soft death… just for ourselves ! He came unto his own and his own received in not "He came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name." John 1:11,12 
They put him to death but he lives on, even today, here and now… the time is running out… so let’s get to work with HIM ! 
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
On the train return journey from Saint Ursanne to Lausanne : a swealtering heat in a crowded compartment, trying to find a seat among people more or less welcoming… I asked if could sit where a place seemed free : two men said « yes »… snow white hair, light skin, rather aged one would say : that’s me. Pitch black curly hair, copperlike skin and around thirty : that’s them. Their language : arab. I took the Monde diplomatique, read, tried to grasp the state of our fragile beloved planet… and its people. They chatted away very quietly. Now and then from the corner of our eyes, a split second gaze encounter. Shy. That was all until 
one of them went to the bar and brought back sprite and peanuts in a paperbag. Lo and behold : oh ! so gently, with infinite respect, the older man pushed a half filled plastic glass of bubbling, sparkling lemonade towards me… « Oh ! thank you » said I … and drank… the rest of the journey was far too short for us to share « who we are, where we come from, where we go to, what we do… life and living ! » I come a bit from anywhere in the world : Clos-du-Doubs, Southern Africa, German Switzerland, Romandie… I am a Sister and I am in love with Jesus and people. They come from the Middle East, Saoudi Arabia, they are here to work, they’ll go back home, the older man to his two wives and four children, the younger man to one wife and two little girls… He offered me one, two, three peanuts… 
which I gratefully took and ate. We were brothers and sister just for a few miles of a long long road… building networks of human awareness… |