“When we build the tricycle ambulances, we need to build for the tallest woman who might need to sit in it,” said Palash Baral, UBINIG’s Programs Manager, “so the tallest woman on the planning team sits in the bed of the ambulance, and they build the frame around her.”

Baral went on to talk about the need to cross rivers to reach health clinics in Bangladesh—a problem that the arid regions of Mozambique don’t face.  So boats are being built to ferry the tricycle ambulances across the rivers, each one constructed for the river it will serve.  “Every river has different waves and wind,” said Baral.

Five tricycle ambulances and two boats were constructed in 2012, and already another four ambulances and one more boat have been built this year.  By the end of PWRDF’s current program in Bangladesh, each of the 130 dai ghors (maternal health houses) that will service over 500 villages in the 15 districts will have its own tricycle ambulance, and five boats will enable those ambulances to cross rivers on the way.

Who knows where bicycle ambulances will appear next!

A boat designed to ferry the tricycle ambulance across the river. Photo: UBINIG

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The Primate’s World Relief and Development Fund, Email Update–May 2013

 

 “Peace I leave with you,” Jesus says, “my peace I give to you.” Photo: Micha Klootwijk

 

 

A few years ago CBC reported on a special community meeting between police officials and parents in Abbottsford, British Columbia. The subject was predators, psychopaths and drug pushers—how to recognize them, what to do about them and how to protect our children from them. Not a pleasant topic, to be sure, but a symptom of the kind of world we inhabit.

All  parents worry about their children. We try to protect them from all sorts of dangers and bad choices, and at times it seems like a losing battle. We love our children and are afraid for them, and rightly so. There are so many dangers lurking in our world.

I make no apologies for being a protective parent regarding my own daughter. After all, she has Down syndrome. She has an independent spirit and wants to be self-reliant, but she will always require help. My wife and I pray for her every day, and we are doing our best to plan for her future, especially when we are no longer around to care for her.

And yet, there is no guarantee that we can perfectly protect our daughter from the dangers that threaten.

So what can we give our children that is of lasting value? I suggest that the one thing we can give them is inner peace. Isn’t that what we mean when we say, “All I want for my children is that they should be happy”? What we want for our children is what Jesus wanted for his disciples—inner peace, inner strength, inner confidence that will allow them to stand tall in the hour of testing; that will strengthen and sustain them throughout their days.

“Peace I leave with you,” Jesus says, “my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid” (John 14:27).

On the night before he died, Jesus gave all who believe in him a promise of peace. It comes not a moment too soon. Certainly, we want world peace, but we also desire inner peace—the peace that helps us cope with fear, anxiety and worry. Perhaps that’s why we come to church. We search for something to help us sleep better at night, and for something to get us through the day. We want something that will help us face life’s challenges with courage and conviction and integrity.

Recently, when we were on vacation in Florida, my wife was at the pool of our hotel speaking with a couple from Boston. She asked how they were coping in light of the recent marathon bombings. “We are going to be fine,” said the woman. “Everything will be okay. We’re strong and we can get through this.”

“But,” my wife asked, “what about all those who were injured—who lost limbs, who have shrapnel imbedded in their bodies and are facing a long, difficult recovery?”

The woman kept repeating, “We’re going to be all right. We’ll be fine. We’ll get through it.” She simply could not respond otherwise. The pain and heartbreak were just too great for her to face.

I like that woman’s spunk, but positive thinking is not enough to get us through the tough times of life. It will not fill the vacuum in our souls when life’s tragedies start to drain us.

In a world filled with reasons for worry, we need something tougher than “positive thinking” or “name it and claim it” theology. Yes, Jesus promises us peace, but he also tells us to expect trials and tribulations. The question is, “Where is the peace of God when the world around us is in turmoil?”

When I was living in New York City and practicing law, I was mugged on the subway. I was going home after a late night at the office. As I was about to put my token into the turnstile, two men grabbed me, threw me against the wall, pulled out a knife, pointed it to my belly and took my wallet. That experience changed my life. Never again did I ride the subway alone at night. I always had my law firm pay for a cab. But more importantly, I kept thinking to myself, “What if there wasn’t enough money in my wallet and the robbers decided to kill me?” On that dark Tuesday night in May 1980, where was the peace of God for Gary Nicolosi?

As I shared the story of my mugging with my law colleagues, a common response was, “Somebody was sure watching out for you.” More specifically, the response sometimes implied, sometimes stated, that God was watching out for me, because I wasn’t physically harmed. At first, that was comforting, but later I wondered what those people would have said about God if one of the robbers had killed me. Where is the peace of God when you’re the victim of a crime?

Where is the peace of God when life goes terribly wrong?

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

In British Columbia I learned about a unique practice of First Nations peoples in training young braves. Traditionally, on the night of a boy’s thirteenth birthday, after learning hunting, scouting and fishing skills, he is put to one final test.

In this particular instance, a young boy was placed in a dense forest to spend the entire night alone. Until then, he had never been away from the security of his family and tribe. But on this night, he was blindfolded and taken several miles away. When he took off the blindfold, he was in the middle of a thick woods and he was terrified! Whenever a twig snapped, he visualized a wild animal ready to pounce.

After what seemed an eternity, dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight entered the interior of the forest. Looking around, the boy saw flowers, trees and the outline of the path. Then, to his utter astonishment, he beheld the figure of a man standing just a few feet away, armed with a bow and arrow. It was his father. He had been there all night long, ready to protect his son from any danger that threatened.

Life can be scary, but God does watch over us. In every circumstance of life, in all the tragedies and pitfalls we may experience, in all the heartaches and heartbreaks we may feel, in all the struggles and strains of daily living, God never abandons us. God is with us—all the time, even in the most horrific situations.

That’s why we have peace even when the world around us is in chaos. It is not a “feel good” peace or a “wishful thinking” peace. It is an objective peace that does not depend on feelings or even circumstances. It is a peace the world cannot give or take away, because it is God’s gift to every believer in Jesus.

All of us are bound to struggle with tragedy and heartbreak at some point in our lives. The aches of the human heart are not confined to any one group or class of people. But here is the good news: because Jesus lives, all the powers of death and destruction cannot ultimately harm us. Yes, they can destroy the body, but they cannot kill the soul. Jesus took on all the evil powers of this world and won—he conquered death itself, and therefore can conquer whatever problems and pains may come our way.

Are you worried or afraid? Are you troubled or distressed? Is your heart breaking from some tragic loss, or is the pain so great that it hurts too much to cry? Then claim the promise of Jesus for your life—for whatever may come your way, he is our perfect peace in this less than perfect world.

 

The Rev. Dr. Gary Nicolosi is the rector at St. James Westminster Anglican Church in London, Ont.

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Anglican Journal News, May 9, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

The ancient Celts described Iona as a “thin place,” where the veil between heaven and earth is lifted, and where one might glimpse the divine.

For centuries pilgrims have traveled to this small island off the West coast of Scotland, leaving behind their chaotic lives to rest, reflect and walk in the footsteps of St. Columba, the Irish missionary who founded a monastery on Iona in 563 AD.

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[Episcopal News Service] The ancient Celts described Iona as a “thin place,” where the veil between heaven and earth is lifted, and where one might glimpse the divine.

For centuries pilgrims have traveled to this small island off the West coast of Scotland, leaving behind their chaotic lives to rest, reflect and walk in the footsteps of St. Columba, the Irish missionary who founded a monastery on Iona in 563 AD.

Columba was forced into exile allegedly following a dispute concerning the ownership of a psalter he’d copied in his home county of Donegal. His subsequent missionary work is credited with the spread of Christianity throughout the British Isles.

May 2013 marks the 1,450th anniversary of Columba’s arrival on Iona. His feast day is celebrated on June 9 throughout the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion.

The Rev. Nancy Brantingham, a priest from the Episcopal Diocese of Minnesota and a long-time student of Celtic Christianity, visited Iona for the first time in October 2012.

“Columba had a role here, situated at the monastery with his monks, teaching them and then sending them out two by two, and look what happened,” said Brantingham, who was leading a group of pilgrims mainly from her home diocese. “Was the world ready to hear from him, and are they ready to hear from us yet, I don’t know. But numbers certainly aren’t the only thing that matter when it comes to getting the word out … touching people’s hearts.”

Group members began the week discussing why they’d taken this two-day journey over land, air and sea to the island and if they’d brought any questions with them.

For Brantingham, Columba “is a great patron because he loved writing, had gifts for teaching, loved to study, was a good pastor. I hope I am, too. So I think that’s why I came.”

The Rev. JoAnn Ford said she had come with many questions about who she was as a retired parish priest “and where do I go from here, what do I do?”

But she arrived “being open,” she said. “Not with any need to find an answer.”

“How do I know what is God’s will?” asked Maren Mahowald. “How do I recognize it? How do I know if I’m responding? That’s why I’m here.”

Although the pilgrims had brought many personal questions, they also acknowledged the importance of community along such a journey.

Athene Westergaard noted that, “when traveling in a community that you trust, it’s the community that supports you, which is what the faith is all about. The faith is not a lonely experience.”

Bishop Kevin Pearson of the Scottish Episcopal Church’s Diocese of Argyll & the Isles, under whose jurisdiction Iona falls, also visited the island in October and joined the Minnesota group for part of its pilgrimage.

A pilgrimage “helps you journey within,” Pearson told ENS while walking with other pilgrims around the island. “[It] brings together the spiritual, interior world and a world that’s hard-and-fast. So the actual physical exercise is a part of the spiritual exercise as well, and you’re drawn into God’s life almost whether you want to go or not.”

The Scottish Episcopal Church’s St. Columba’s Chapel and the adjacent Bishop’s House have served as a place of prayer and study for pilgrims to Iona since 1894.

“People are increasingly drawn to journeying and to making pilgrimages, whether they call them pilgrimages or not, to holy places, to places that for centuries have meant a lot to people,” Pearson said. “And, basically, they’re journeying within themselves; they’re searching for God.”

One of the highlights of visiting Iona is connecting with the Iona Community, an ecumenical group formed in 1938. Under the leadership of its founder George MacLeod, the community set out to rebuild parts of the medieval Iona Abbey.

Today, the community has a strong commitment to peace and justice issues and offers weekly pilgrimages around the island, stopping at places of historical or spiritual significance and reflecting on the journey along the way.

Rebuilding the abbey “was to be a symbol of the need for the church to re-engage with ordinary folk and a concern for the need to rebuild community,” the Rev. Peter MacDonald, (Presbyterian) Church of Scotland priest and leader of the Iona Community, told ENS during an interview inside the abbey.

Julie Hooper, one of the Minnesota pilgrims, has visited Iona four times. She keeps returning, she said, because “there is something that settles the soul here.

“It’s very peaceful and nurturing, and I don’t think it matters what your religious or spiritual inclination is. I think there are a lot of people who come here who aren’t necessarily Christian, but they come because they feel that nurturing and peacefulness here.”

Making her first visit to Iona, Dorothy Ramsdell of the Episcopal Diocese of Nevada said that she felt an energy making it “possible to just be loving. It is truly a model of living together with the land in community.”

The pilgrims found peace and tranquility everywhere on Iona: in the organic gardens that feed the travelers, in the nature and the wildlife, in the ancient stones and monuments, and in the memories of those who’ve gone before. But mostly, they observed how that peace is found in the community that is formed during any visit or pilgrimage to the island. It’s a reminder of how Columba lived in community with his fellow monks who helped to evangelize the British Isles and engrave on it the legacy of Celtic Christianity.

Reflecting on Columba’s influence, MacDonald said: “It could be argued that the Columban mission to Scotland and further afield actually helped form Scotland as a nation state. Columba was often engaging with the chiefs of various tribes and peoples around here, and their reasons for inviting the Columban monks to go there was as much political as spiritual. So I think we see that integration, that wholeness, of Columba and the Celts as something that we try to live out today.”

“The ancients knew about the value of pilgrimage as a metaphor for life’s journey, and I think people today recognize that as a spiritual discipline,” said MacDonald.

For many pilgrims new beginnings and possibilities open up after visiting Iona.

“You never get to go home from pilgrimage empty-handed,” Brantingham told ENS. “One of the beautiful things about pilgrimage is that you go as a solitary traveler, but then the community begins to form around the experience of being vulnerable, of being afraid, of having questions about where God is right now in our lives, how God is at work and what’s next.

“In some sense, the pilgrimage never really ends,” she added. “To be sure, we will go our separate ways, but we are also bound now to one another forever by the stories, experiences, and memories we shared; by the awareness that however far we are from one another in the physical world, we are, nonetheless, still together on the journey that leads to knowing and loving God more deeply. And everything about the experience, from the first awareness of being called to make the trip to the homecoming at journey’s end, holds potential insight and wisdom we can draw on for the rest of our lives.”

– Matthew Davies is an Episcopal News Service editor and reporter.

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Episcopal News Service, May 6, 2013

 

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‘Tree of Emotions’ at TRC