Abomey Calavi, Benin

I’ve had three 50+ hour door-to-door trips by plane over the years. This was the fourth one. It was after midnight on the Saturday when I was finally able to put my head on a pillow—but not before our driver/host asked if I would preach the next morning. Yikes.

Not for the first time, a smallish bed left me approximating a hippo on a hypotenuse as I drifted off to sleep. I was not so excited about needing to roll out of bed at 9am to go to church. But I did. We were ushered to the front row, in a church building heavily dependent on natural air-conditioning. After singing a marvelously raucous version of “We’re Marching to Zion; Beautiful, Beautiful Zion”, the choir at the front settled into note-making mode for the sermon. What a sight! Every single one of them following the preacher through his three points from Romans 13: “Pay up; Wake-up; Suit-up.” The preacher was not me.

Arnavutköy, Türkiye

Oops, I forgot to mention that I was in Benin for the annual Board meetings of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students (IFES). One of life’s privileges… Then there was a two-day transit in Türkiye, at which point Barby joined me for our onward travels. Istanbul is one of our favourite cities, but on this occasion we were happy to find a transit hotel 20 minutes from the airport, in Arnavutköy. We so enjoyed walking its streets and eating its bread.

By the way, did you know that in both the first century and the twenty-first century the number of Christians in Türkiye is roughly the same—about 5000? The difference is that the surrounding population has grown from 5 million to 85 million, and beyond. However the word at the grassroots is that in the last few years that 5000 has doubled to 10,000. Amazing, eh?! Praise God. I suspect that many a testimony bears resemblance to something we saw as we walked those streets and ate that bread.

Tiranë, Albania

This state was so proud for so long to broadcast its atheistic credentials. Now it jumps at every opportunity to broadcast that Mother Teresa, one of the defining theists of the twentieth century, belongs to them. A few minutes after departing the airport, we encountered a roundabout with a tiny Mother Teresa statue at its centre. Seven days later, on arriving back at the airport, it is easy to miss another tiny, even lonely, statue in the rush towards onward travel.

Advertised as one of the most visa-friendly countries in the world, Albania was the chosen location for a Global Forum in the Langham work in which we are involved. We had sown the seed with a survey 15 months ago, with a single question: “If there was no money from the global budget available to you, how would you sustain your local preaching movement?”

In the end, the visas were a nightmare. 25% of the invited participants were unable to gain entry. It was so disappointing. Nevertheless, under God’s good hand, we were still able to gather people from Colombia, Egypt, Indonesia, Thailand, USA, Ghana, UK, Peru, Hungary, Chile, India, Nigeria, Costa Rica, Spain, Haiti, Fiji, Sri Lanka, New Zealand—with others from Bolivia, South Sudan, Eswatini, Cambodia and Trinidad & Tobago joining us intermittently on Zoom. Being part of the global family of God is something else, isn’t it?

We also had one person from ‘the Big Country’ whose face could not be photographed—and so we took another photograph in solidarity with her.

The week went well, by God’s grace, as we meandered our way through the Scriptures; Ideas that Work; More than Talk sessions, in which we were up-skilled by Kehinde (IFES) and Ben (Langham USA); times 1-on-1 with a prayer partner; ample conversation in continental clusters—before sweeping everything into a global response on the final morning. Along the way we had all read Henri Nouwen’s little The Spirituality of Fundraising — from which Cisca ‘posterized’ key quotations as she guided our discussions on it.

Biatorbágy, Hungary

After a decade of stability, we are in the midst of a season of change in the global team that leads this ministry. A new Director for Europe & the Caribbean has just started. Originally from the UK, Andy has embedded himself in the culture and church in Hungary—with his fluency in the (difficult) language is impressive. A priority has been to visit new members of the team as soon as possible after they commence. Having Barby with me was an extra blessing. On this occasion we were welcomed by 37deg heat, with an abundance of geranium and oleander smiling at us, seemingly, from every vantage point.

We spent five days hanging-out with Andy and his family (including his parents, over from the UK) in Biatorbágy, 30 minutes west of Budapest. We walked. We talked. We prayed. We ate, spending a lot of time around the table together. While we didn’t even go into Budapest, we did drive down to Lake Belaton, which was such a treat. The vibrant contrast in those carpeted fields of golden wheat and the green ones of corn will always be with me—and would be enough to gladden many an Aussie heart.

A main focus was a little Commissioning Service where friends and family (and some new colleagues) gathered, in the presence of God, to set apart Andy for this new role. Here are members of the local Hungarian team giving him a gift to mark the occasion.

And then in my hand-luggage, every step of the way, has been this brick of a book. It is the twentieth century story of how a recluse-monk, devoted to prayer and solitude, finds himself called to be the patriarch-pope of the Coptic Orthodox Church and into a period of reformational leadership. It will be the subject of another post. Oh, yes it will…

In the meantime I’ve discovered that the author lives in Sydney and it just so happens that I’ll be there in two weeks, Lord-willing. Yes, my cheeky letter of self-invitation, in the hope of meeting him, has already been written and sent…

nice chatting

Paul