Different but the same

A little while ago I popped in to visit good friends of mine on the way back from the shops. They lived just a two minute walk from my home in Mbeya and now they are just a ten minute walk away from my home in Gloucester. I would frequently pop into their home when we lived close by in Tanzania, and as I dropped round to their Gloucester home I suddenly realised how bizarre it was – every aspect of that walk to the shops and to their home was many miles removed from Tanzania (both metaphorically and literally) and yet underneath it was the same!

Instead of a dirt road, it’s tarmac. Instead of going to lots of little shops I could go to one or two big shops. Instead of shillings it’s pounds. Instead of Swahili it’s English. Instead of asking at the counter I walk around. Instead of very little choice I’m swamped with options. Instead of a shop-owner with a calculator it’s a touch-screen, self-serve checkout. Instead of dodging daladalas I’m walking along pavements and crossing at traffic-lights. Instead of a cool cement house it’s a centrally-heated brick house.

But I got food and I saw friends. Different but the same :-)

Back to the books

When I think about it, I’ve never really been far away from books – all my growing up years I’ve loved the written word, devouring books from the county library, reading in the car (much to the disgust of my parents who wanted me to look at the scenery) and reading late into the night when my parents thought I was fast asleep. As I grew older the number of books I consumed per week dropped considerably, as other things filled my time, but still the books were near at hand. And then I became involved in making and formatting books in other languages, so that now I can’t read a book without noticing double-spaces where they shouldn’t be or spotting inconsistent indentation that most people would never notice! Now that phase of my interaction with books is behind me for a while, but the skills learnt come in handy for crafting my essays and my consistent love of books makes the library a pleasant place to study. 

Reflecting on the centrality of the written word in my life, I am brought back to the centrality of the most important written Word, the Book of God. In a recent essay I was reflecting on Luke 24, where we read of how Jesus walked with a couple of His followers on the road to Emmaus and later appeared to all of His disciples as they met together. They were confused by Jesus’ death as they had thought that he was the one they were expecting who would liberate Israel. And what did Jesus say to them? “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!” (24:25). How would they have known what the prophets had spoken? Because it was written in their Scriptures (our Old Testament). And later Jesus says to them, “Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.” (24:44) Here I see two things. Firstly, the importance of the written Word. God has chosen to reveal Himself through the written Word. Yes, He has revealed Himself ultimately in Jesus, but even Jesus chose not to immediately disclose who He was to the disciples after His resurrection, but first pointed them to the Word – everything was already written there. After opening the Scriptures to them, then he revealed his own identity. Secondly, I see how even Jesus’ closest disciples hadn’t understood what was written and Jesus needed to interpret it to them. 
 

What are the implications of this? Firstly, the importance of the Bible, through which God makes Himself known (indeed, it is one of many means, but clearly a primary one). Do I/we devour the Bible as I devoured books as a child, for this is how I will come to know more of my God, my Creator, my Father? What about those who don’t know how to read or don’t have any books in their language? How important it is that God’s Word is made accessible to them, through written and oral mediums. It is this concern that drives the work of Wycliffe Bible Translators as they translate the Bible into people’s mother tongues, teach people to read it and make it available in audio formats. Secondly, the importance of teaching the Bible. Just as Jesus needed to interpret God’s Word to His disciples, so people today need help understanding what is written – it doesn’t all make sense on the first read! But as our eyes are opened we see more of who Jesus is and can grow in our intimacy with Him, our friend, brother and Saviour. Who/what helps you to understand the Bible? Do you need help? Or who can you help? This is what drives Wycliffe’s work of Scripture Engagement, which I have been involved in for the past five years in Tanzania. I hope that this year of study will better prepare me for this role of helping others dig into God’s Word and find the treasure within, just as I myself need to keep digging, so that I might day by day find my identity to be more securely rooted in being the beloved of God and learn to wait on and trust in Him in all things.

Identity crisis

Aunty Katherine

People ask how I’m settling in and does it feel strange to be back. The answer is always yes and no. In some ways it feels completely normal to be here, I am so happy to be with my family once again and Tanzania seems a dream, while in other ways I miss my life in Tanzania a lot and feel out of place here. As I’ve reflected on this, I’ve realised that one of the reasons for these confused emotions is a crisis of identity. In Tanzania I had a clear identity – I had a role (Scripture Use Coordinator), a home of my own, a clear social network (through work and church) and a purpose to each day. Now who am I? I don’t have a role (maybe I could create one with a new handy acronym that sounds like some exotic language: ‘Basipakaak’ – ‘Between assignments Scripture Impact person also known as Aunty Katherine’), I don’t have a home to call my own (though my parents kindly let their home be mine), I don’t have a clear social network (my friends are scattered all over the world and UK) and I don’t have a clear purpose to each day (though I do have a long To Do list of random things).

This loss of identity leads to a very unsettled feeling, which is an inevitable part of transition. I know I will pass through it, and probably soon be wishing that I could go back to my routine-less, purpose-less days, when I have to start writing long essays and reading lots of heavy theological and missiological tomes! But until that time (and that’s yet another transition – to community college life and studying) the unsettled feeling remains.

So, if you ask me how I’m doing, and I give the polite British answer of, “Fine, thanks”, you will now understand that the real answer is much more complicated! However, hopefully this little blog will have helped you understand something of what I am really feeling. Thanks for your prayers.