mbjones

Please join me in praying for Kenya. I'm sure you've read, seen or heard the news about what's going on in Nairobi. If for some reason you haven't, a heavily armed terrorist group entered and took hostage a large up-scale shopping mall in Nairobi. As of writing this update, the siege is over. The current death toll sits at 72 with more than 170 injured. I'm not sure if these are the final numbers yet, but it's what I'm seeing most in the news.

This event hits particularly close to home for my family because we have good friends based in Nairobi and we plan to relocate there in early March of 2014. It's particularly surreal to read about (and see pictures of) as we spent quite a bit of time at that mall pricing household items and preparing a new budget. As far as I know, we don't personally know anyone affected but our friends do. Most people living in Kenya do.

• Pray with me for peace at the Westgate Shopping Center.
• Pray with me for those injured.
• Pray with me for the families and friends mourning loved ones.
• Pray against backlash against the thousands of refugees and immigrants in Nairobi and Kenya.¹
• Pray with me for the healing of Kenya, and its resilience to bounce back in the face of terrorism.

If you are wondering if this changes our plans, the short and simple answer is no. The reality is a bit more nuanced than that. It's impossible not to be a little shaken by this event - it's horrible and tragic and our familiarity with the area does induce a bit of anxiety. But there is much that keep our resolve strong:

• Calling: We are called to East Africa, with all of the good and bad that comes with that. We knew accepting the challenge to look and head that direction would bring with it an increase in risk and danger. It's the reality of working in the nonprofit/development world in majority world countries. And they are risks my family glad, but soberly, accept.
• Reality: Mass shootings happen anywhere and everywhere. Terrorism will forever be used by cowards to target the defenseless and innocent wherever they might be. It's easy to point at Nairobi and be shocked and full of fear but lets not forget Chicago last week, the Navy Yard shooting earlier in September, and the Boston Marathon bombing. The magnitude might be greater in the event in Nairobi but there are no "terror free" zones. Actually, I'm going to take that back; there could be "terror free" zones anywhere people boldly choose life instead of the death (through fear and anger and bitterness) terror tries to create. We can either be crippled by terror or boldly walk out in a hope that refuses to accept a life quenched by fear.
• Hope: That brings me to the last point I'll make: we have massive hope in the potential of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, and the kingdom He inaugurated, to produce real and lasting transformation amongst all peoples. We feel particularly called to those neglected by the world. They are in massive need of new hope like that inspired by Jesus. Often terrorism and other radical elements of society leave a people neglected and in need of this dose of hope but because of those risky, dangerous or uncomfortable outward circumstances, there is no one to walk with them. Going and sharing this hope is the calling we've given our lives to.

Keep Kenya in your hearts, thoughts and prayers in the coming days and weeks as they seek to rebuild as a nation unified (Kenyans, refugees, expats, etc). They will need the support of the world around them.

If you are curious on the backstory of what happened and why, check out the following links as a start: 1 and 2.

1. Please see here for the fears in "little Mogadishu". ↩

VC Camp 2011 from Brandon Jones on Vimeo.

This is a video I recently produced detailing a camp we helped put on.
Specifically, the video tells the story of one of the young women
involved (whom my wife has spent quite befriending) and how her story
impacted the kids.

These are some pics of the Cape Town area at sunset taking tonight on
our dinner date.

Coming back from lunch, my co-workers and I had an odd encounter. There was a man in sweats with a dog passing out flyers. Curious, I took one. It turns out that this man was a Christian of the far right fringe; his brochure claims that the end of the world is near, giving its date as May 21, 2011.

Folks and encounters like these both amuse and disturb me. It amuses me that they would make such brazen claims (against the clear teaching of scripture); it disturbs me because this is all that many hear or know of Christianity. For those with this or similar beliefs, I think it’s important to keep in mind a few scriptures (these are important — not just words of wisdom from Brandon).

1. Matthew 24:36 — “But as for that day and hour no one knows it –- not even the angels in heaven -– except the Father alone.”“ It’s parallel in Mark specifically says not even the Son — Jesus — knows. So…we have here a group claiming knowledge that Jesus didn’t even have while on earth and that it specifically says no one has. We are commanded to always be alert but there is never an expectation that we could possibly know, in fact alertness comes because it’s not something we will ever know. 1 Thessalonians 5:1-2 confirms this as well in Paul, specifically saying that the Day of the Lord’s return is like a thief in the night — at a time we never know.

2. 1 Thessalonians 5:21 — “But examine all things; hold fast to what is good.” Knowing the above (the exact day isn’t something we will ever know) makes examining this and any sort of prophecy extremely important. It is a scriptural mandate after all. 1 Corinthians 14:29 tells us that we should examine all prophecy given as well. Just because someone claims a prophecy (or some sort of secret knowledge) doesn’t mean we are to buy into it hook, line and sinker; we have a responsibility to be responsible with whatever was given.

3. Acts 17:11 — “…they eagerly received the message, examining the scriptures carefully every day to see if these things were so.” Our number one way to examine any prophecy, word, etc must be against scripture. If the two do not line up scripture always trumps. The Bereans where known for testing all things against scripture and we’d be wise to as well. If we did, we’d know that claims like this are baseless as they go against the clear words of Jesus.

4. Deut 18:22 — “…whenever a prophet speaks in my name and the prediction is not fulfilled, then I have not spoken it; the prophet has presumed to speak it, so you need not fear him.” It’s telling to look at groups that have made prophecies like this in the past. Remember the Y2K scare perhaps? There have been others too, and it’s groups like this one making the claim. Now this “word” won’t be proven true or false until May 22, 2011 but looking at past fruit I imagine would be telling.

Like I said, claims like the above disturb me. It turns people further away from Jesus. It distorts the Bible and the clear teaching of Jesus. It produces fear and madness — not the fruits of the Spirit — in peoples hearts.

I have more to say as well, but will hold off for the moment.

This describes one of the more life changing events in my life. It happened 3 summers ago in Mozambique. I thought it pertinent for this site as my wife and I prepare to embark full time to Africa.

Every week without fail, Luis makes two trips: one to the Maputo jail and one to an AIDs hospital. While staying at the orphanage, we had the opportunity to join him in these missions. Today I’ll turn your attentions to our time at the AIDs hospital. Looking back, it was one of the more impacting times for myself (and I think that I’m not the only one of the eleven of us who would say that).

About the Hospital

The hospital was actually in the town we were staying in, Matola. It is divided into gendered floors, the bottom couple being for the newer patients and the upper couple for the highly contagious terminal patients. We rode a chappa to the hospital and upon exiting were met with an interesting site. The building itself looks kind of like any other bland government building – honestly there is not much to set it apart. It is surrounded by a fence with a gate but security wasn’t an issue. I expected to have to go through something in order to get in, but we just walked right on through the gate (I don’t think the security booth was even being manned by anyone at the time). Upon entering the hospital we were met with drab, dark halls on the bottom floor. It was rather depressing – in comparison our hospitals look like amazingly bright and cheery places. I remember the colors as gray scale and just blah. The second and third floors weren’t much better although numerous windows made for a much brighter atmosphere. On these patient floors, the stairs emptied into a kind of common room that had tables and chairs setup (it was here we talked to and prayed with the patients). On either side of the common rooms were the halls with patient rooms.

About the Patients

All of the patients here had AIDs. Most had other, secondary diseases as well, the most common being tuberculosis. Generally speaking, its not AIDs that kills people – its the opportunistic secondary diseases that their bodies can’t take care because of immunodeficiency. The onset of these diseases is generally what takes people to these hospitals to spend their final days. The patients on the two floors we couldn’t go onto where in their final stage of life. The highly contagious form of tuberculosis is mostly what we heard they had. The plan in future years is to bring HEPA masks and robes so that we can go onto these floors but lack of appropriate safety equipment kept us from talking with these patients this time.

The patients on the two floors we could go onto where dieing as well, some from diseases other than tuberculosis, I would guess. Many of them looked too weak to even be up and moving around, but come out they did. I remember praying for one woman, my hand on her shoulder as we generally did, and quickly moving my hand off in fear that I would break her. It felt like i was touching bone (and that’s all most of these individuals were – skin and bones).

Sharing and Praying

All eleven of us did not descend on the hospital at once; rather, five went the first week and six the next. I went in the first group. We had originally thought that we would just be going around to rooms, chatting briefly and then praying with the occupants. The common room was a surprise to us (as was Luis telling us that someone needed to stand up and share). I decided that I would take the opportunity to do that on the guys floor and felt led to share briefly and broadly about what I was reading in Isaiah and how their lives were important to us and more importantly, were important to Jesus. We then paired up and prayed for everyone of them. We next went up to the girls floor and did the same. As the “have something to share” thing to our group slightly by surprise, none of the ladies with us had anything in particularly to share so I once again took the lead. Rather than talk about the same thing I did on the guys floor, I decided that it’d be much more worthwhile to talk about Hosea. Don’t ask me why – it was a last minute change as when I stood up the Isaiah bit was still on my mind – but Hosea it was and it seemed to go alright. And after the sharing we followed the same routine, praying for everyone individually.

The Aftermath of the Visit

There were several important aspects of this visit. If I haven’t said it before, I’ll say it right now – this was one of the most important things we did in my mind. At least, it was one of the most impacting things we did to me. For one thing it was one of the more emotional things we did. I’m generally not an emotional dude but it was impossible not to tear up, standing in front of these hopeless, dieing people and not tear up. Their environment just felt wrong and depressing. They really had no hope to ever leave that hospital. They knew there days were numbered and that there was pretty much nothing that they could do about it. And what where we to do? How where we to pray knowing that it would take one crazy miracle of God to ever get them free of that hospital? It’s important to be able to look deep inside of the dark and hopeless places and know that the light of God can penetrate even there and that’s what we were there to do, and what Luis is there to do week after week. It’d be easy to find places like this here in the states but we shelter ourselves off from it for no good reason. That’s definitely one thought I took away.

Other things I took away were much more trivial (or at least they feel trivial compared to the above). One – God will give you the words if you trust. Two – I want to be given the words more, I need to put myself in that kind of situation more, however you want to word that. Three – One of the oddest sites I have ever seen occurred on the ride to the hospital (because it happened on the way there, and with everything else going on, it’s automatically lumped with the hospital experience in my brain even though it doesn’t necessarily deal directly with it). As we were driving past a poor village, one much like the one I’ve posted pictures of with dirty roads and small poorly built houses that lack what we consider basic needs (running water, etc), I never expected to see a brand new, blazingly clean and white, four door Mercedes sedan pull out from its dirty streets. The contrast of rich and poor was never clearer (or more inappropriate, or so it felt). That will be a fuller conversation for another post yet it is tied intimately to the whole hospital experience, which is why I mention it here.

I would post pictures but I don’t have any of the hospital. It is illegal in Mozambique to take pictures of government building, monuments and officials and not knowing if the hospital falled into one of those categories I decided against whipping my camera out. Better a post without pictures than time in a Mozambiquan jail I think. The lack of color in this post is more fitting anyways to the environment of the hospital I think.

In an attempt to get some of my old writings into this new blog, I'm
going to repost some of what I've written over the years. For those
that have been following me for awhile (probably just my mother), it
might be nostalgic; for those that haven't, it'll be a good
opportunity to read about some of my experiences and thoughts
throughout the years.

Here is a funny story for those that like such things. Sunday night after Celebration, Juli had to go into work to cover for the evening shift. But she had time for dinner beforehand so we decided to go with a large group of our friends to Taco Cabana thinking it’d be both cheap and fast.

Boy were we wrong…

Cheap it was but it was anything BUT fast. We got there approximately 10 till 8 and waited in the line for about 10 minutes and finally ordered. I got the taco combo and she got the cabana bowl. We went ahead and ordered to go because it looked like it could be a few minutes and that way if they took a bit longer she’d have hers packaged and ready for her to take to work. And so we started the process of waiting. And waiting. After about 15 minutes, one of the workers came out and said that it could take a few minutes because they were out of tortillas. “Great…” I thought as I’d gotten tacos but didn’t really think much more about it then. 5 minutes later another lady comes out with half our order (Juli’s cabana bowl) and gives it to us. 30 seconds later she comes back to say that it wasn’t ours but someone else. Several minutes later she’s still wandering around with it and I tell her that Juli has to get to work so if she can’t find who it belongs to, we’ll take it. 5 minutes later she comes back with it and hands it over. By this time we’ve been waiting for almost a half hour. It’s about 8:30 and Juli has to get to work so she grabs the togo container and heads off. I assume that I’ll be doing the same shortly.

Wrong.

5 to 10 minutes later I hear the manager say, “They are frozen solid! Send someone over to Walmart to get tortillas!” This is kind of frustrating to hear because Taco Cabana is known for their homemade tortillas; it’s what sets them apart on the landscape of fast food Mexican food. And further, Walmart tortillas, in general, aren’t that great. But I continue to wait. It’s a bit late to ask for my money back (as some of our friends did) as Juli had already gotten her food. The time passed pretty quickly as I was in a fairly in depth discussion about eschatology with a friend; when I finally got my food, it was about 9pm and about an hour after I had ordered. At a fast food place. Add that time scale to the fact that they used Walmart tortillas and not their own homemade ones and you have the recipe for a frustrating (and not very tasty) experience.

Looking at it now, it’s kind of funny and friends have generally laughed at the telling, but I will say that it makes me not want to go back to Taco Cabana anytime soon.