Political hoopla - now and .... back then!

Dr. Samuel Austin Cravath was born on 27 Sept. 1836 and died on 20 April 1917.

I am reading his type-written life story.  There is so much that I would like to share that I have decided to give little morsels.  At the top of each of these posts, I shall be putting this little photo that I harvested off the net from a write up about SA Cravath

From out here in India - it seems that the current US Presidential race seems to be going on forever.  Today's news tells us that one of the Republican candidates has folded up his cards - allowing the big-spending front-runner to move forward and challenge Barack Obama.  Money in politics - and big money at that - just begs the question about how accountable any of these men (and the few women involved) are.

Our own dear country of India is awash with political money - with the police seizing money from no less than Raosaheb Shekhawant - who is the son of our head of State - President Prathiba Patil!  Being found with Rs. 10,000,000 in cash at election time he said "I had sought funds from the state Congress Committee for distributing them among 87 party candidates as most of them are women and poor."

So lets go back a 172 years to another era.

Samuel Cravath'a father died when Samuel was only a few months old.  It was thought that he died of malaria after moving from New York to Pennsylvania. His mother remarried, and a few years later the family set out from New York state to start life anew in Oberlin, Ohio - which was where the "frontier" was in those days.   

Samuel Cravath picks up the story telling about his travels in what would have been 1840.

"The campaign of William Henry Harrison for the presidency was at a fever heat at this time. Every little town and cross roads had its flag poles.  Each party was trying to erect a taller pole than its opponent.  Log cabins on wheels followed by a barrell of hard cider were a part of every Whig procession.  "Hurrah for Tippecanoe and Tyler too" was the salutation of nearly every man we met, for northern Ohio was very strongly for the Whig candidate. 


All this band playing, flag raising, marching, hurrahing and blazing torchlight processions was very exciting to the imagination of children.  We had never seen anything like it, nor indeed had our elders, for it was the first presidential campaign in which such displays ran riot.  We, of course, wanted to shout with the crowds but our step-father, Talcott Kinney, thought it all wrong and a sinful squandering of time, money and energy.  I think he was an Abolitionist at that early day and regarded both Whigs and Democrats as wrong, because both upheld slavery."

A treasure

We celebrated Jesus' resurrection yesterday.  Celebrated as a church by calling people together for a time of sharing our stories and and His story.  The whole week we prayed together in different people's homes.  On Saturday evening we hit the streets and gave our invitations to people we met on the road.

And on Sunday evening we celebrated in the JSK training hall.  As a church we celebrate here each Sunday evening from 6-7.30 by holding a gospel meeting for people admitted at JSK and their relatives - and others who wish to come too.  But for the Easter meeting we pulled out all the stops - music, a mini drama, a last minute correography (featuring Asha as one of the dancers) - it was all there.

We all enjoyed a lovely time together, sharing the joy of Jesus with a group of people of 80 odd people.  Who were they?  Our friends ranged from old acquaintances and neighbours to people who we literally met 'by God-incidence' on the street.

There are many stories to tell about yesterday evening.  But I will just stick to one small tale.

After the meeting was over we had a time of talking with people, praying with them - with chai, soda and sandwiches doing their rounds as well.

Small conversations sprouted across the room - and downstairs in the canteen area.

One of them was a woman who had a patient admitted at a hospital in Mumbai.  She had come for help.  She really wanted money.  One of our church members talked with her and prayed with her.  This lady was very restless.  She halted at the gate of the compound - confused, perplexed - and seeking some kind of help. 

What to do?  How to help?

These questions keep cropping up.  How do you help a person you meet for the first time?  Should you give cash?  How much do you need to find out more about them?  The list goes on...

The story yesterday unspooled this way....

As the lady was leaving another man who had come to the meeting - and who heard what she was saying - gave her a Rs. 100 note.

The man is an old friend of ours.  He has HIV.  A few years ago he was drinking himself to death.  Sitting with another HIV positive man in a place where bodies are burnt and drinking day and night.

Somehow - after many prayers and many visits - he turned a corner.  He is alive today.  He goes to work.

Lets call him Tamas.

At his workplace yesterday, he met an autorickshaw driver who showed Tamas a pamphlet he was given on Saturday evening.  Tamas recognised my name on it - and the venue.  And so he came.

It showed us again - at the crux of need - it is often the poor who know how to help best.

On the day we celebrated Jesus' resurrection - a broken life made whole again reached out and touched another who was in despair.

That small act did not pass the muster of the world's press.  It was not talked about in halls of power.  But the Father up above who is looking down in love saw it.

A treasure.

A call from across the sea

The mobile phone rang.

I could tell it was not a local number.  Some kind of foreign call.  Who could it be?  One of our relatives?  A long-lost friend?  Someone who is trying to meet my dad?  Or someone who has a problem?

It was the latter.

The voice said that he had seen our website (www.JeevanSahara.wordpress.com) and would like to know whether we do HIV testing with the results given on the same day.

I explained that we counselled the person and then took the blood sample - and then give the result with counselling the next day.

I asked him why.  And what his name was.

He said that he was Suraj Kumar (obviously we have changed this) and that he was calling from abroad.  Suraj said that he had had an sexual exposure with a prostitute some time ago.  He had already been tested once but recently had gone to a massage parlour and was worried.

We talked some and I told him that if the time period he was talking about was correct - that he had nothing to worry about since he had an HIV 'negative' test result and it was over 7 months after the exposure.

He seemed relieved and we ended the conversation cordially.

I had just been dropping Asha off for her violin class when the call came in.

A few days later Suraj called again.

Would it be possible to have the test done on the same day.  He wanted to fly in and out.

The details seemed the same.  I tried to tell him that he need not worry so much.  And that the cost of flying from the Gulf (he told me what country he was working in) was prohibitive for such a simple test.

A few days later.  Another call.  This time he said that he really had to come.  I asked him to send me an email with the details.

The next day Suraj called and said he had booked a ticket.

He came.

We counselled him and tested Suraj for HIV.

We had asked our part-time lab tech to be there early on that day.  Immediately after the test was done our counsellor Giri Nayak called Suraj in and told him his result.

It was negative.  As we expected.

What a joy for Suraj.   He went out and hugged our lab tech - he was so happy.  He tried to give Giri and Vinod (the lab tech) money to celebrate.  They gallantly refused.

When he met me, he told me his real name.  'Suraj' is a name he set up for himself - complete with its own email address - so that he could make enquiries about HIV without having it linked with his real name.

'Suraj' has a wife and children in Chennai.  He lives in the Gulf.  He has a well-paying job.  But the cost of it all is a life away from his children and wife.

Sheba counselled 'Suraj' on the changes that he would have to make.  His pornography.  His unfaithfulness to his wife.  He had to change from the inside - and only Jesus can help in that.  'Suraj' told her that this was the first time anyone had addressed the real needs.   He had been to a top HIV service institution in Chennai - and they had just told him that he was negative - and to be safe.  They had not address the inner man.

We had a happy man leave that afternoon.

Will 'Suraj' change?  We hope so.

Chances are that he will go back to his previous behaviour patterns.  The mind - especially the mind fueled by sexual fantasies - shapes our actions.  The old testament prophet Jeremiah said that the 'heart is deceitful above all things.'  Ancient wisdom that rings very true today.  We are experts at self-deception.

But we move forward with hope too.

We believe that people can change.  Our hope and desire is that 'Suraj' will shift back to live with his wife and family in Chennai.  It may not be as lucrative a life as in the Gulf - but it is a life well worth living.  A life that God has called us to if we are married.

To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, till death do us part.  What God has  joined let no one put apart. 

Prayer by names

Shanti is one of our JSK staff members.  A widow, she has been working with us for the past 6 years now - visiting homes of people with HIV/AIDS.  Listening to them.  Mothering them.  Helping in the way that she can.

Shanti also attends the house-church we are part of.  Last Sunday she shared this.

"I have been recuperating from my hernia operation and so have been at home for the last few weeks.  I thought I could rejoin JSK in mid March - but had to extend my time and restart in April.  Last week, the name Nalini (name chaged of course) came to my mind.  I knew two women by that name - and so I prayed for them during this week.

One of the Nalinis used to come to our church.  For a long time we have not had any contact with her.  After I prayed for her - she called me!  It was in the context of referring a patient to us at JSK, but I was able to ask her how she was.  Nalini says she is attending another fellowship. I was so glad to here about her.

The other Nalini was a patient of ours.  She was a young woman who found out that her husband and her had HIV.  She had tried to commit suicide at that time - and after than was brought to us.  We had made friends with her - but then she and her husband moved to Pune and we were not give a further contact address.

This Nalini also came to my mind, after not seeing her for three years, and I prayed for her.

Imagine my surprise when I went down on one day this week - and saw the second Nalini on the street!  She was so happy to see me.  I found out that they are living just 2 houses away from where I live!  They just moved back as a couple and have taken a rental room."

Now what are the chances of that happening?

Two people with the same name, being thought about and prayed for.  And then both coming back into contact with Shanti?

It was a privilege to meet the second Nalini in the Bible study we run on Tuesday night at Shanti's home.   We talked about the parable of the two sons - the lost one who went away and wasted the father's money - and the lost one who stayed at home and disgraced his father by not coming in - and the great love of Father for both of them.

How great Father love is for Nalini.  To bring her back.  And place her right next to Shanti's home.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.  Mathew 10.29-31

Rainbows and Second Chances

My brother Stefan Eicher (not to be confused with a certain Swiss crooner) does many things.  Being a great Dad for Ashish, Anjali and the newly minted Amira is one full time job.  Another one is running the Reflection Art Studio which is one of the projects of the Art for Change Foundation that Stefan and his wife Neeru helped set up.

One of the activities of the Art For Change Foundation is the 'Made to Create' team which teaches and immerses diverse groups of learners into the wonderful world of creativity.  Here is a recent art expedition that the Made to Create team did to Sewa Ashram in North Delhi.


Sewa Ashram is a community of the destitute which Stefan and Neeru have been involved in over the years.  It is an intentional community made up largely of men who have been rejected by all others - but have found a shelter to rebuild their lives in a place of acceptance and change.

I came across this series of pictures taken by Timothy Gomez with commentary by Stefan - and have imported it lock, stock and barrel into 'Chai Chats'.  Enjoy as Stefan steps up to the mic and takes us on a tour with the 'Made to Create' team:

One beautiful brother's 'colour flower'. The theme of last week's visit to Sewa Ashram (the community of destitute we visit each month) was the rainbow: exploring colour and the hope we have in God's promises and second chances He gives us.

On the way to Sewa Ashram, Shalem, who coordinates our 'Made to Create' project, hands out the day's lesson plans to the team.

Our destitute friends are waiting for us in the chapel.

Nirakar kicks off with an exercise getting everyone to write their name using their favourite colour. Half of the guys are illiterate so we have them make a small drawing instead, using their favourite colour.

After I've told the story of Noah's ark, speaking of the God of second chances, and the rainbow as a symbol of the hope we have because of who God is, Nirakar hands out paper and has everyone try mixing colours and make a colour wheel, shaped like a 'colour-flower.'

 

Hard at work on their 'colour flowers.'

I noticed one of the destitute friends sitting quietly without any paper and when I asked him he simply said: "This is not for me, I have never done it, I am not able to do it." I drew a circle and had him add smaller circles to make a flower. Soon he had a whole garden. I asked him how he felt about it. He broke out in this beautiful smile and said he liked what he had created. I shared with the group how he was evidence that we are 'made to create' because God is Creator.

Nirakar then gets everyone to work on a painting about something that gives them hope, just as the rainbow is a sign of hope.

Through simple exercises it's amazing to see signs of the beauty buried in our broken brothers.

 

Meanwhile in another part of the campus Shalem and Huma are doing the same lesson with about thirty children from a nearby slum who attend a small school run by Sewa Ashram.

 Shalem explaining the task.

 

Hard at work.

Happy rainbows!

 

And a proud Habib!

Back with the men, the painting continues.

 

Once everyone is done we have them share about their paintings, what they made and why.

A rainbow flower.

While setting up at the beginning, Muhammed had shared with me that he was a cycle-rickshaw driver who ended up at Sewa Ashram because of being stabbed in his side by people who robbed him of Rs.1500 and left him to die. By the end of our session he had painted a beautiful rainbow-roofed house.

  

I give everyone a better view of Muhammed's painting which he explained as follows: "The dark spot in the lower left corner was my life on the streets before. This house is my dream, it symbolizes my hope since coming to Sewa Ashram where I have found new life."

Forgiveness

It was summer and the missionaries retreated to the hills.  Two months for the ladies.  A relaxed time with children whose boarding schools were in session - but allowed the mission kids to live with their mothers.  The fathers and single men joining the parties for the final month of the 'hot-season.'

The hill station that summer was at its cool and blessed best.  Evening walks around the top of the hill were a delight, with majestic cedar trees covering the northern side of the mountain - and occasionally a breath-taking view of the high snow-clad peaks in the distance would break through the haze.

One group of missionaries shared a large rambling bungalow perched on the very top of the ridge.  Its many rooms offered plenty of space for different families and singles to stay - and in the hot season it was bursting at the seams.

Every evening the missionaries settled down for dinner together in the slightly austere (this was a faith mission after all) but jolly dining room of the bungalow.

Who would have known that this meal would be any different from the many dinners enjoyed together before it?

In the course of the dinner there was a sudden hullabaloo outside.  Local people were shouting - telling that some 'European' lady had fallen down the hillside and was injured - maybe dead.  Could she have be one of them?

A search party was immediately formed and the men went out with the locals to find the stricken woman.

They found her.  And they found out a lot more.

She was one of them.  She was the missionary wife of a man who had been sitting at their table.

That evening the couple had gone together for a walk.  He and she came close to a cliff.  He pushed her over the cliff.  He then walked back to the bungalow and sat down for the meal with the others as if nothing had happened.  But something had. 

Amazingly his wife was still alive.  But the murder-attempt had taken its toll.  She had broken her back.

The whole story came out.  He was having an affair with a single missionary lady. 

All three were dismissed by the mission and asked to go back to their home country.

-----------------------------

But the story does not end here.

The lady who had been pushed over the brink recovered from her broken back.   But she recovered in a far more profound sense as well.  She forgave her husband.  They were reconciled.

Eventually - after some years - they returned to the land where they had been called to serve God.  And served their for many years before their eventual retirement saw them return 'home.'

-------------------------------

This is a true story that took place during the time when my grandfather served as the superintendent of his mission.   

As many of us consider the statement of Jesus 'Father forgive them, for they know not what they do' (Luke 23.34) we know that His miracle of forgiveness - can and still does - open the lives of many to true healing and wholeness.

The span of a life

Its 0.39 AM and I am officially 43!

I have had some interesting reading recently.

Yes - there is a volume by Ramachandra Guha called A Corner of a Foreign Field which is a history of cricket in India  ('an Indian history of a British sport)... but I have only been able to dip into the prologue of that (a delicious book by the looks of it though).

My reading has been more personal in a way.

I have now three photocopied memoirs of... my grandmother Alice Cravath Eicher (b. 1904), her father E. Austin Cravath (b. 1872), and his uncle Samuel Austin Cravath (b. 1836)!   The latter two were written in 1943 and 1901 respectively.

I decided to first read the memoir of my great, great, grand-uncle - Samuel Austin Cravath (his older brother George Cravath was the father of E. Austin).  What a story of a life!  His typewritten  life-sketch covers his ancestry (he believes his forbears were recorded in the US as far back as 1671 in Boston) and takes a sweeping view from his birth in what was the US 'frontier' at the time - the college village of Oberlin in western Pennsylvania - and ends with him writing from another frontier college town - Grinnell in the state of Iowa. The 'frontier' had kept moving west during Samuel Cravath's life time.  It is strange that I actually went to see a school friend graduate from Oberlin in the early 1990s - it was a far cry from what it was in Samuel Cravath's day - that's for sure.

There are so many fascinating stories and insights from this memoir.  Samuel writes about the tragic death of his father to malaria in 1937 shortly after Samuel's birth, and later the early death of his mother when Samuel was in his early teens.  He writes about how he grew up and the various steps that took him from being a farm laborer to going to college at Oberlin and then passing through a series of careers which included teaching, being a school superintendent, becoming a surgeon and running a newspaper.   What he does not note in this sketch is that he was also a post-master, bank director and trustee of Iowa College.  But the latter may have been post 1901.

I will write later (I hope) about this life.  What I want to record right now is something different.

The most jarring thing for me as I closed the 69 page type-written life-sketch was what was not there.  Through all the adventures, all the achievements (written in a modest, cool manner - as befitting a newspaper editor/publisher I guess)... through out the thread of his remarkable life, I found Samuel Austin Cravath curiously lacking in expressing some kind of a personal faith relationship with God.

As I reflect on it, I realize that this lacuna has really rattled me. Perhaps it would not have done so had I not  skimmed my grand-mother Alice and her father E. Austin Cravath's memoirs - where both are practically falling over themselves in describing their faith-stories.

I have not had the time to read through Samuel Cravath's memoir again with a fine-toothed comb, but looking back across this life-sketch, I sense a coolness to anything on religion.  A lot of this seems to be a reaction to what he describes as a quite a harsh early religious upbringing.

This gnomic statement where he reflects on his last year at Oberlin College is the closest thing I could make out as a direct statement of  Samuel Austin's faith - "I made up my mind that I had made my last argument against the Christian religion, and hereafter it should be my effort to convince myself of its truth rather than its falsity" (p. 31).


I think this is where the rub of my uneasiness lies:  Looking across the stretch of a life - one that had so many remarkable events - but not seeing Samuel attribute the many varied blessings to the Almighty.  In contrast to Samuel's memoir, I am reminded what the wisdom writer wrote so many centuries ago Trust in the Lord and lean not on your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him - and we will direct your paths (Prov. 3.5-6).


As I have just stepped into my 44th year - having completed an amazing 43 spins around the sun - I cannot help but say "Thank you God!"

Any life story invites you to compare your own with it - to see how it stretches out alongside the other.  I have been doing this in my mind with what I understand of Samuel Cravath's life.  I am amazed at the way he  came out of adversity - at his industry and drive - at the way that he strung together a life with his wife Mary.  Their marriage sounds pretty close to ideal.  Samuel Austin Cravath actually closes his life-sketch with these elegaic words about his wife Mary: "We have enjoyed much together, so that even our sorrows have faded to recollections that have a phase of brightness rather than of gloom."


I wish I could have a cup of chai with S.A. Cravath.  I don't quite know what he would make of his great, great, grand-nephew - but I think we would have a lively conversation.  All I have of him is the 69 type-written pages that cover his life as lived till 1901 (he seems to have lived another 16 years more). He himself wrote in on the front page that this is just for publication or public perusal, but just for the family which it concerns.  I think I can include myself into that frame - since I am a descendant.  I am sure having a face-to-face conversation with him would help me understand his faith life more.  

I may not have all the answers about my ancestor's life, but what I do have is this day.  Its been given to me as a gift - and I intend to use it to please the wonderful giver - my loving Lord.  I am so grateful to have turned the strange (for me) age of 43 - but am excited about living out this life - and stepping into the life-to-come.

Soli Deo gloria!