But that is enough to be sobered by what I’ve seen. There is something particularly evil about a regime that represses its people so fully and for so long. The time frame is of (biblical) exilic proportions, long enough to clear the living, corporate memory of any other reality. This seems to lead to a different brand of poverty. I can’t quite put my finger on what I mean by this. Maybe others can help?! But it is more like the poverty in (post-Soviet) Kyrgyzstan, than in India. Along with all the other impoverishments, there seems to be a poverty of ideas, of initiative, of innovation. While in India there seems to be a lot of ‘why bother?’ in the handling of poverty (due to the failure of will), in Myanmar I have wondered whether it is more a case of ‘how bother?’ (due to the crushing of will).
But on Trip #3 last month I had to question this assessment. One image challenged me to reconsider. More accurately, it was the one single image which I saw dozens and dozens of times on a six hour bus trip to Chaungtha Beach. A bridge. Almost every 100 meters, off from the elevated main road, there was a bridge that spanned a moat-like space. It took people down from the road and across into homes and fields. I was transfixed by what I saw. After more than 100 photos on my smartphone as the bus whizzed by, I found myself fantasizing about taking six days over the trip and trying my hand at photojournalism, creating a book full of photos and stories about bridges.
Why the intrigue? Every single bridge was different from the one before. I kid you not. Each bridge was made from local products. Each one was functional, but still vulnerable to the elements. My theory about the poverty of ideas and innovation went out the window. To see the flowering of such creativity and innovation, under such interminably repressive conditions, is testimony to the image of God lurking in each person. My despair was transformed by these bridges to hope.
The metaphor of the bridge is richly polyvalent, isn’t it? As ‘the bridge to life’, it tells the story of the cross, of reconciliation and restoration. John Stott used it with communication and mission, advocating that bridge-building lies at the core of both. Churches build bridges into the community. It is bridges that reconcile conflicting peoples. In my own life, the bridge was the centrepiece of a personal mission statement that held me for three decades: ‘building bridges between the academy and the church, increasing the flow of traffic both ways, and directing it all towards mission’.
The essence of the bridge is it’s recognition that a gulf exists. Then it makes connection possible, with the expectation that there will be movement and traffic over that connection which enables distanced people and ideas to mix and mingle. When I think of this enormous task of nation-building which Myanmar faces (together with the church-building that is integral to that task), it is bridges that they need. Everywhere. Find a chasm and bridge it. And there is inspiration to be found by the roadside. Oh, yes there is. It is where I found it.
nice chatting
Paul
About Me

the art of unpacking
After a childhood in India, a theological training in the USA and a pastoral ministry in Southland (New Zealand), I spent twenty years in theological education in New Zealand — first at Laidlaw College and then at Carey Baptist College, where I served as principal. In 2009 I began working with Langham Partnership and since 2013 I have been the Programme Director (Langham Preaching). Through it all I've cherished the experience of the 'gracious hand of God upon me' and I've relished the opportunity to 'unpack', or exegete, all that I encounter in my walk through life with Jesus.
Recent Posts
Just when I thought that it could not be possible to have another first-hand account of the impact of John Stott’s life (d. 2011), along comes this book by his close friend, John Wyatt. I am always ready to learn more about John Stott, but also about friendship. It fascinates me. It keeps coming up…
Reading stories to grandchildren over Christmas reminded me again of how powerful they can be. They are so compact and simple in presentation, and yet so clever in construction. There are just so many features at work in an effective story. It is some years since I taught narrative preaching, but when I did I’d…
Apart from the eight years in which we were based overseas, Barby has been working at the Refugee Resettlement Center in Auckland since 2002. This year she is a ‘release teacher’, spending one day each week in three different classrooms, with three different age groups. Impressive—and demanding. One day is spent with 11-13 year olds—from…