on the farm

Though Thane is an urban sprawl with a good 2 million or so folks living here (we will find out next year when the census results are published) - there is still place for nature and growing things.

Just near our house - we have the low Pokhran hills - which are the Eastern border of the Sanjay Gandhi National Park - the green lungs of Mumbai!

And last week we also had a full-fledged farm... in miniature of course...


Enoch was hard at work again with the legos (the pictures of this are now the only record it was made - he has already recycled the bricks for his next set of projects...
But
On the farm that Enoch made, however, Mr. Farmer goes for a walk to see how his animals are doing.

The sheep, pigs and ducks are doing mighty fine. In fact, looking at their size compared to the farmer, you might wonder if there is any doping going on - they look like they are all on steriods!

But then who am I to say - the lego farm has certain challenges that are scale dependent. Its not possible to make recognisable animal models below a certain size threshold! But it is just this limitation that combined with the durablity and connictability of the whole set - which for me enthrones lego as the 'king of games.'

In another part of the farm, Mrs. Farmer takes a small break at the picnic table in the park.

Its not easy being a lady on the farm. The work is never ending it seems - so it is a real blessing to be able to get away from it all every now and then!

Would that Mrs. Farmer's example be followed by us in real life - by the chap whose hands are banging the keyboard at this minute - who really needs to go to bed!

The peice de resistance for me was Enoch bulding a set of men actually repairing the roof of the farm-house. Its one thing to make something and break it. Little boys seem hard-wired toward that sort of thing - but which little boy builds something that is restorative in nature? There is obviously a grateful and slightly-in-awe Dad voice coming through in the previous sentence!

aflame for God

Time for a quote from Roland Bainton's Here I Stand - A Life of Martin Luther (p. 167)

Into a society where the lesser breed were given to gambling, roistering and wenching..., at a time when the choicer sort were glorifying in the accomplishments of man, strode this Luther, entranced by the song of angels, stunned by the wrath of God, speechless before the wonder of creation, lyrical over the divine mercy, a man aflame with God.

For such a person there was no question which mattered save this: How do I stand before God? Luther would never shirk a mundane task such as exhorting the elector to repair the city wall to keep the peasant's pigs from rooting in the villager's gardens, but he was never supremely concerned about pigs, gardens, walls, cities, princes or any and all of the blessings and nuisances of this mortal life.

The ultimate problem was always God and man's relationship to God. For this reason political and social forms were to him a matter of comparative indifference. Whatever would foster the understanding, dissemination and practice of God's word should be encouraged, and whatever impeded must be opposed. This is why it is futile to inquire whether Luther was a democrat, aristocrat, autocrat, or anything else. Religion was for him the chief end of man, and all else peripheral.

Two families

Troubles don't come singly.

One family that Sheba met today - we will call them the Mr. and Mrs. Mali - have a child who keeps getting fits. Three months ago was the last time they came into the clinic. Sheba's notes have her prescribing a simple but imporant epileptic medicine. They did not take it. Rather they have gone through various religious and occult practices to try and get rid of the fits. The child still has them. Sheba expressed how angry she felt with the mother and father for not following through with what is most likely to help. Towards the end of the time Mrs. Mali said that they have a new problem. Mr. Mali's sister - who was married recently - has been abandonned by her husband. She is also living with them. That would mean Mr. and Mrs. Mali, their 4 daughters, his mother, his sister and her child all living in a room no more than 8 by 10 feet.

Another family - Mr. and Mrs. Chandu - came later. The oldest of their 4 kids is HIV positive (like his parents). The middle 2 are negative. The baby is yet to be tested. A 9 month old child the baby weighs less than a 6 month old should. The oldest was recently admitted with pneumonia in a large govt. hospital all the way down in south Mumbai. Why they did not come to us? We had diagnosed from before that the boy had lost part of his lung function because of untreated TB. The big hospital did a CT scan of the chest and came up with the same conclusion. 'Permanent damage' is what the family was told. "Please take our children and put them in some hostel - some place where they can live" is what the parents asked today.

Oh, for some big green button to press.

A one shot solution to all the misery we have around us. All the misery that we are ourselves.

We don't have one of course.

But that doesn't mean that there are not solutions.

The very horrid nature of so much of what we see - the very recoiling and wondering about how much worse can things get - points to something beyond - a hunger for home - a deep-down-desire for things to be right, to be safe, to be as they should be.

Our own anger at the crazy illogic of poverty is real. We have to be moved with grit at the ripping up of lives that continues to go on while the trappings of the material splendour of 'India shining' (Sensex bubblign ever upwards - now over 20,000? homes retailing for 25 lakhs a shot? vegetable prices at what meat used to cost?). If we do not react emotionally to the relational wasteland that so many of us are going through - and the horrible aftermath of foolish decisions that people make - then we would only be made of stone.

Anger is real. The key is not to let the anger overwhelm. Not to allow it to overflow. Never to give it control.

That's not easy. Self-control is low on most of our priority lists.

The Bible talks about the fruit of the Spirit. An amazing list: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law (Gal. 5.22-23).

We don't have simple solutions for these two families. Any answers we have are more at the level of becoming. We cry out to Jesus to help. To be the wonderful counselor that He is. To take our lips and hands and hearts and do that which can be done with these dear families. To seek changes that are real and last - and not just a bandaid over the wound.

Pray for us as we seek to link these families up with people from local churches. It seems impossible - but it can be done. Pray for breakthroughs at different levels - and for rest and hope for the parents as they live through their own HIV status - and make good choices for themselves and their kids.

Ex libris

We are on a diet of Luther right now in the Eicher household.

A book fair which I managed to squeeze an hour in to grab 2nd hand books at rock bottom prices yielded two on Luther.

Kitty my Rib by E. Jane Mall is a fictionalised biography of Katerina von Dora - who became Katherine Luther after her marriage to 'the good doctor' Luther.

The book takes a breezy look at the life of an extraordinary woman - who left the nunnery and ended up marrying the ex-monk who had set the wheels of her own escape into motion.

The other book - Here I Stand: The life of Martin Luther (available online by clicking the title) - is by a scholar Ronald H. Bainton and gives a dense but concise picture of Luther and his time.

Both books were written in the 1950s. "Kitty my rib" is a straightforward telling of a domestic story. The author tries to put herself into Katherine's shoes - and comes up with a story of a woman who yearns first for freedom - and then for affection (and receives some) - and who lives a hard life caring for the good doctor Luther. I came away feeling that I know more about Katherine - but also about what the author feels is important in life and relationships: freedom, appreciation, intimacy. The big issues of Luthers life rumble on in the background - Katherine's world seems to be circumscribed by her family - and her desire to retire in a nice plot of land.

"Here I Stand" works hard to put the facts down - and paint the picture of the times. To be honest - Sheba and I are just starting into it - but I can already tell that it is written with more than a whiff of earnest 1950s modernism.

Both books gripped me and also left me hungry for more. Ultimately we will have to ask the good folks themselves when we meet up in eternity.

From the "Kitty" book we get the extraordinary picture of the Luthers ministering twice during plague outbreaks in their benighted little village of Wittenberg. We are so insulated today from the terrible fear of disease outbreaks. Where parents would abandon sick children - and vice versa. Where children would be found 'breathing on' their siblings - because it was thought that that the action of 'breathing' on an unifected person would free one of the disease.

The Luthers went house to house - morning to night ministering to the dying, caring for the sick as much as possible, helping to bring out and bury the bodies and consoling the greiving. All this without thinking that they were 'too important' to be exposed to the danger of dying themselves.

Martin Luther had many faults - but what a picture of courage and pastoral care we get here. How flippant and shallow so much of our so-called 'service' is when measured with this plumbline. You hear the echo of our loving Master who said - "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Mark 2.17).

The other find from the "Kitty" book is a sympathetic look at Luther's bouts of depression. A life-long set of episodes - it shows up as a cloud in the family. I would wonder how much of Luther's depressions were public knowlege at the time - something that mirrors what so many of us struggle through - in our own lives - or in the lives of those we love very much.

The genius of Bainton's book is to place a finger (a slightly cool one at that) on the intellectual / emotional struggle Luther has with his sinfulness. Bainton is dead on the money when he highlights that it is Luther's deep religious hunger - and his tortured dissatisfaction with everything that his relgious disciplines and understanding of the time - that drive Luther to the unexpected set of end points where Luther discovers the Bible in a revolutionary way. Particularly helpful for me was the brief discussion of how after confessing for hours at a time - Luther would end up being reminded of some other sin he felt he committed. Bainton suggests that what horrified Luther even more was the realisation that much of sin did not even bring remorse - Jonah sleeping in the ship as a case in point - which lays the foundation for an understanding of sin not as individual acts to be catalogued and then dealt with - but an underlying nature...

Lets see what else we will find out as we travel with Bainton through Luther's life.

Books take us to different places. They offer a commentary on our own lives. As we think through what we read (and we certainly don't need to agree with everything that is printed black on white) we gain insights into our own situations.

Plus the best books end up talking with each other - and most of all with the book of books!

Case in point is what we have just finished reading as a family - Madleine L'Engle's most excellent A Wrinkle in Time. It fairly drips with meaning - while taking you across space and time - and leaving you hungry for more.

Speaking of hunger...

On our bookshelf sits a huge red one-volume book that all of us are itching to read together - The Lord of the Rings. Alas we just do not have a span of a few weeks opening up for us to read through it. We know that once we delve in - we will not be able to extricate ourselves till we have read every page of it.

Circus

You would think that in the midst of the circus that is our life - we would hardly have time ... for well, a circus.

But lo and behold: the intrepid 4 Eichers made their way to the Gemini Circus this afternoon.

We made our way out to a scrubby wasteland that lies near the Kalwa Bridge in Thane. Sure enough a huge tent materialised in front of us and the sparkle razzle of the circus was around us. The kids have never been to one - and so we plunged in.

Looking at the circus as an adult has its own sad twinge to it. There was a sparse crowd for the 4 PM show - so we could see things clearly. I was struck by how sad many of the performers looked. They came - did their thing and left. Who are they really? Doing what they do three times a day - for people in various cities across the country. Where do they stay? When do they eat? What relationships criss-cross between them.

There was so little applause. The announcements were unintelligible. The place was hot - we bought plastic fans to fan ourselves with.

But it was a circus.

The real thing. We were there looking at it all unfold before our eyes.

Since our dear Menaka Gandhi managed to stop almost all wild animals in circuses (no more thrilling lions and tigers as I remember from my boyhood trips to Azad Maidan) - we were not expecting much by way of animals. (by the way - that is not a picture of Menaka being lofted up by a pachyderm - though I am sure many circus owners would be happy for their ele-friends to do that to her).

Oh yes, we did have 3 rather tired looking elephants made occasional appearances - as did 2 camels and a hippo. But as far as animals - there were probably more on the streets than in the big tent.

Instead we got lots of gymnastics. Some of it really heady stuff. Hats off to these men and women who put themselves through so much. The show just kept going on. Act after act. Finally ending with the trapeze artists whirling above us - some 50 feet or so high up near the top of the tent. They finished with a memorable 'black light' effect where they swirled through the air with the lights off...

Enoch liked the motorcyclists best. Four of them driving in crazy loops around the metal ball - the angry buzz of the bikes forcing little hands to quickly stop-up little ears.

Artists on bicycles. The obligatory bare back riding. Jugglers. The odd clown magician. The two and a half hours whizzed by.

This particular show had its smattering of foreign artists too - mainly slavic looking ladies who did acrobatic stuff with ropes - and a jubilant group of African tumblers. A number of others looked oriental - but that could mean Nepal, any of the 7 sisters - or folks from East Asia.

As each act made way for the next, a small army of workers made sure props were ready, cables were swung here and there... The band - up in their tent above the show entrance - warbled away with a vaguely circussy sound - spiced up masala style.

In the midst of all of this - the shabbiness of it all kept coming through. The tent was massive - but our shoddy seating on uneven ground brought us back to earth. As breath-taking as many of the stunts were - so much was shot through with sadness.

The clowns were mainly midgets. You just wonder what their life is like. The constant gaping they go through as people stare at them.

Their jokes were mainly burlesque. Crude hitting of each other. What redeemed them for me was the participation they seem to have in the other acts - often serving as assistants - and occasionally showing their own gymnastic skills.

It was perhaps appropriate that once we exited the tent we could not get an auto-rickshaw for love of money. As a family we trudged past the outer wall of the Thane jail - ending up at the main gate having done a good half-way round circumbulation - before the long awaited Auto was successfully hailed.

Seeing the prison brings the question to my mind: how many of the men and women in that circus are living in their own private prisons? Sparkly costume changes apart - it doesn't take much to see that all is not well.

Our kids were strangely subdued too. I think that their eyes have also picked up a lot about the real state of affairs.

Coming home to our beautiful home. A warm bath and a good meal later. We crash into our soft beds. So amazingly and totally blessed.

Half way across the city the last show of the day is probably still on... And then the tents will be packed up and the circus will move on to the next town.

A day

The last week has been a blur for us as we prepared for the dedication of the new Bethany Hospital. But that did not mean that all our friends with HIV suddenly went on holiday from their challenges.

I think back to one of the days. I think it was Wednesday (last week was a blur - as already mentioned).

Here are some of the people that Sheba and the team had the privilege of working with on that day:

One of our old friends - Mr. Oliver Lal came with his daughter. He and his wife have been living with the disease for years. We have tried to encourage them to get their daugther tested many times. They just couldn't get the courage to do so. Now she was sick. It looked like malaria. He wanted her tested. We did. Mr. Lal came back for the result today. Sheba had to tell him that his daughter had also tested HIV positive. Heart-breaking. I sat with him for some time and held his hand. The mist of tears in his eyes.

Mallika came and was amazingly winged off to Ooty. We were able to get a bus ticket for her - and a welcome in Bangalore (thanks to OASIS for both) and then get her picked up by our friends from Freedom Firm who took her too Ooty. Our staff member took her to the bus boarding point in Dadar - with a packed lunch to eat with her. Amazing that she got off and is starting a new life. God is good.

There were so many others who came during the regular hours. Sheba spoke with each one of them. Listening to stories. Understanding. Speaking words that come from our loving Master's mouth.

At the end of the day, the sisters of Mr. Anmol came to talk to Sheba. Mr. Anmol was a successful businessman. A life-long batchelor who lived with his spinster sister. He had retired and was given a big award by the chairman of his company. We have known Mr. Anmol for the last 2 years. He never told his sisters about his HIV status. He also has had a cancer of the neck. He has not shown us the reports from the cancer hospital to date. He refused house visits. Finally he was admitted at a private hospital - and the senior doctor their revealed Mr. Anmol's status to his sisters. They were shocked and horrified. They came to us demanding why we had never told them. Sheba explained that Mr. Anmol was usually accompanied by another relative. Mr. Anmol's sisters disabused us of that - the man was a friend not a relative. Sheba tried to calm Mr. Anmol's sisters as they worked through their feelings of rage and betrayal. No easy answers - especially when lives are spun around half-truths. Mr. Anmol is dying. May his last days at least experience the peace that has eluded him so far.

How do you end a day like this? One way (and we seem to specialise in this) is to collapse into bed and then arise to the challenge of the next. Life pushes on - in fast forward much of the time! Time waits for no one.

Dedication

Today marks a new day.

In a few hours we will be meeting to dedicate the new Bethany Hospital to God's service.

The gleaming new building is getting its final polish as we get ready for the many guests and supporters who will be with us for this time.

"Not to be served, but to serve" is the motto of the Bethany Trust - which runs the Bethany Hospital - and the Jeevan Sahara Kendra too. We have seen this lived out in the preparations for this day. Many hundreds of hours of behind the scenes work have taken place to get this hospital to where it is. And many more are needed to get the hospital moving forward.

When Dr. Stephen Alfred and his wife Claire returned from the UK to start work in Thane all he thought was that he would run a small 4 bedded nursing home. That changed with the Bethany Trust opening the Lok Hospital in 1996 - first as 2 floors and then expanded to 4 floors. Today we will be dedicating the next step, with the Lok Hospital work moving into the purpose-built 125-bedded facility at Bethany Hospital.

For us at Jeevan Sahara Kendra this means that we will start our work in a new phase at the current Lok Hospital building. We plan to start by using the first floor and offering a 10 bedded inpatient care facility for people with HIV who need hospitalisation.

We also want to scale up our work in providing and monitoring the life-long (and life-extending) AntiRetroviral Therapy (ART) treatments. We hope that our application to become a link-ART centre and be able to dispense govt. ART medications will soon come through. In addition, we intend to continue the integrated testing and counselling centre where people can come for confidential and voluntary HIV testing.

Jeevan Sahara Kendra also hopes to develop into a centre for excellence in HIV care and training. We know that the experience that we have gained over the past 8 years of service here in Thane is invaluable - and want to share it with others.

All this while continuing what we have tried to do from the beginning: caring for people with HIV in their homes - challenging local churches to reach out in love and welcome people with HIV and their families into a broader family of care - working with people who are living with HIV to make positive and life-enhancing decisions!

As the dedication of the new Bethany Hospital takes place today, we are so grateful to the Lord Jesus Christ for His grace in letting us see this new step forward.