Habemas Papam

I was just about to turn in for the night - having written an email or two - when I heard cheering.

So I flipped back to the tab which I had opened on BBC's "smoke-stack cam" - and there was smoke coming out of a chimney.  Not any chimney of course - but the one on top of the Sistine Chapel  It was night so what colour was it?  White or black?  Were the searchlights colouring it white?  Then the bells began to chime.  The smoke was white.  The thousands in St. Peter's square were cheering - which was the sound that I had heard.

Two days earlier we had watched as some of the 115 cardinals had made oaths of secrecy.  Then everyone was ordered out.  The servants and attendents filed out - as did other priests - leaving behind the red-robed cardinals to choose one of them to be the next pope.  The next leader of the world's 1.2 billion Roman Catholics.

With the closing of the door - the focus was on the chimney.   4 times smoke billowed out - each time black - signalling that the 2/3rds plus one majority was not achieved to select one of their number to be the next pope.

Now the cardinals have spoken.  Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Buenos Aires, Argentina has been chosen to be the first non-European pope - and has chosen the name Francis I as his papal name.

What will the new Pope do with the great challenges that his flock face?

When his predecessor switched from being called Joseph Ratzinger to be known as Benedict the 16th, he was known as a fiery defender of the faith.  A man who made his views clear and plain and who was determined to steer the great ship of the church towards orthodoxy.   Eight years later, the world was shocked when Benedict announced his retirement stating that his health did not allow him to do justice to the tasks upon him as pope.

My father was once asked whether he was the 'pope of this church?'   The tourist visiting Mussoorie saw Dad standing outside Kellogg memorial church and asked the question politely.  Dad answered that he was not 'the pope of that church' and in turn asked the tourist whether he knew it was 'good Friday' and why it was called 'good Friday in the first place?   A good discussion took place.

But back in Rome this evening, the new Bishop of Rome, Francis I was introduced by the Latin Habemas Papam (we have a Pope).  As a follower of Jesus Christ - my hope for every other Christ-follower - be they the Pope or a pauper - is that they live out the truth and love of our Lord Jesus.  Pope Francis I has big shoes to wear since 1.2 billion people in this world see him as their spiritual shepherd. 

As the 265th successor to St. Peter (by one way of counting at least) he must not look back at his predecessors - but upwards to the Christ.

Friend

We have 19 mutual friends.

We probably know each other.

Why don't we connect over Facebook? ... at least that is what the good folks at FB want us to do.  And so his face appears every now and then, with a suggestion to 'add Friend.' beneath the name and image.  And the reminder of how many people are already 'FB friends' with both of us.

We actually do know each other.

But we can't become friends of Facebook.

My friend died at the end of last year.  He died at our centre.  He is now in a place where true friendship lasts forever - instead of the shallow 'friending' that Facebook offers.

I remember his thin body.  His lop-sided smile. 

I remember praying with him.  Talking with him.  I remember the love and care that Sheba and our nurses gave him.  I remember the large number of his brothers and sisters who came to meet him in his last days.  The church which so lovingly had cared for him and been his home.  I remember the day of his funeral - seeing his young peers as they watched his body being carried out to the ambulance for its last journey to the burial ground.

One thing I know for sure is that my friend is with my Lord.  Far from being dead - he is very much alive.

I don't need FB to friend him.  We are friends for life... and beyond.

Prayer and meds

As the world rejoices that a child in the US seems to be successfully 'cured' of HIV, we still face a huge set of challenges here in the day to day business of helping people with HIV get better.

Take 'Mary' for example.

A bright young nurse, Mary came to us because her friend 'Padmini''s mother had HIV.  We had earlier met Padmini after she approached Sheba took a seminar on HIV prevention for young women.

Mary was Padmini's friend and was working as a nurse.  One day she was fired from her job.  The reason?  She was 'retrovirus positive' - doctor code for being HIV positive.

Mary was crushed.  We counselled her.  Suggested she work with us.  Mary said no, she wanted to work with her church.  We didn't interfere.  Mary's mother is a nurse herself.  Mary kept her distance from us.

Later Mary came back sick.  She had started working at another place as a nurse.  Her immunity was down.  We welcomed her back, counselled her and started her on Anti-retroviral drugs - the life-saving medications which have helped so many live amazingly normal lives.

The catch, however, is that you have to take the meds.  They don't work if you keep them in a closet.  They don't work if you pop them occassionally when you are in a good mood.  They have to be taken every single day.  12 hour intervals.  Strict.  7 days a week.  Every week.  Every month.  Life long.

HIV has a nasty way of creating a hidden body of latent cells which stay dormant - not expressing their HIV genetic material while the drugs are present - but then replicating when the drugs are not [i.e. when a person has skipped their dose(s)].

We suggested that Mary get her meds from the government.  They are totally free.  She refused.  She insisted we start her on the meds.  We did.

She took them for a month.  And then we lost her again.

She did not want our staff to visit her at home.  Visiting her at work was obviously out of the question.

Today we found out the reason for her absence.  Someone had told her that there was a cure available.  They guaranteed it.  So she stopped the meds we had started her on - and took the quack stuff.

Tragically - but not to our surprise - her health worsened.  But instead of coming back to us she got herself checked into the biggest hospital in town.  She has been there for a month now.  Her medical bills are in the lakhs of rupees.  She has had convulsions.

And all she needed to take was her meds.

All we can do now is pray for her.

Its so maddening that people are still peddling all sorts of 'cures' - and that people are still going after them when we know that the Anti-retrovirals really do work!

We know that every person with HIV wants to be 'cured.'   Recently a pastor came to us with a man who he is looking after.  He took him off the street and found that he is HIV positive.  Instead of  rejecting him, the pastor cared for him more.  He loved him and prayed for him.  The man is feeling so much better.   The pastor came and asked that we test the man again.  He was sure that the man was now cured and would be happy to find out that he is HIV negative.

We said no.   We have gone down that road before - where people are told that 'prayer has healed them' and that they should stop their meds.   When God in his grace has given us excellent meds - which our government gives free to people who need them - why should we doubt his goodness?

Last week the daughter of a woman came to us.  Same story.  Her mother is a widow.  She was on meds but stopped after being told that she had been cured by prayer.  Now she is dying.  Her daughter is in 12th standard, working and looking after her 8 year-old brother - as well as looking after her mother.  They live heart-breakingly far away from us - at the very end of the great urban sprawl of Mumbai.  But another case of 'well-meaning' faith which has bitter consequences.

Now don't get me wrong.  I fully believe that Jesus has the power to heal.  After all He raise Lazarus from the dead.  I don't think it is wrong to ask for healing.  We are told to ask.  We are told to come to Him as little children.

But I know that every single person who loves Jesus and has HIV has asked Jesus to heal them.  Every single person.  I can't think of a person who has not.  And as I look out over the 'world of HIV' I see that the largest numbers of people living with HIV live in sub-Saharan Africa - probably the most Jesus-following part of our planet at this point in time.  So that means millions of prayers.

So why are we not hearing of more 'faith healings'?   I mean real ones - ones where there is not a virus left.   I have seen many people 'come back to life' after we prayed for them.  People who were in coma.  People with serious brain infections.  People deeply in the grip of TB.  But they are still living with HIV in them.

I think part of the answer is that God is God.  He is not our lackey to do whatever we demand of Him.  As harsh as that may sound - especially when we desperately want something - it means that we come to Him as little children - but also trusting that whatever answer He gives is the very best for us.  And that means that so many of us are not going to be magically taken away from all the issues of suffering that HIV has with it.

And even in scripture the giants of the faith were not given some kind of super-immunity where they never got sick.   St. Paul gives a small glimpse into this when he tells Timothy to 'stop drinking only water, and use a little wine because of your stomach and your frequent illnesses' (1 Tim. 5.23).  Surely here were two super-faith fellows - and yet bishop Timothy seems to need a bit of wine because of repeated gastric problems.

So the bottom line is that I know God is good.  I know He is powerful.  I know and have seen Him answer prayers.  But I also know that many prayers do not get the answers we want.  Especially our brothers and sisters with HIV. 

Our prayers go out to Mary tonight as she fights for life in the poshest, most high-tech hospital Thane has.  Its such a futile situation since we know that if she had taken her meds she would not be in such a horrible situation tonight. 

Even now, precious Lord Jesus, have mercy on your daughter Mary, stretch out your hand and strengthen her every fibre of her body, help her fight the infections she is plagued with, restore her ravaged immune system,  help the medications she is currently on to really work in the right way, give her peace of heart and hope to fight, give her the assurance that she is loved by you and by all who are caring for her.   Lord give her another chance we plead...

Lots and lots of bits

2013 started with lots of little bits.  Bits of lego of course!

We wanted to do the unthinkable.  To make something that used up every single piece of lego that we have.  This project would link together all the legacy lego bricks from Stefan, Premi and my childhood days with the new generation of hand-me-downs and sparkling-brand-new-sets of duplo and lego that Asha and Enoch got over the years.

We started bright and early on the 1st of January 2013.

Step 1 dump out all the pieces on a big blue cloth.  Yes, every single piece we have!

Our building team had Enoch, Rishav Singh and myself as the core - with outside support from Asha and Sheba!

Now the fun begins!

We start out with deciding on what to make.  After some discussion - we choose to make a single animal.  So now we have to make the base on which the beast will be constructed.

 

Then the actual construction work starts!  Lots of sorting.  Lots!

Duplos go first.  We decide that they will make good legs.

By now early afternoon is upon us and the hungry builders repair to another room for a repast.

Rishav is a basketball player and we get some ball skills - courtesy the plates!  

With a good meal in our stomaches it is back to work.  The ladies of the house retire for a nap while the men keep on building.  Such dedication to the cause!

After the legs are set we build the platform for the stomache.

Included are the yellow plastic platforms which are the only bits left from our East German Pebe (a lego duplicate) sets which we had received when we were with our grandmother in 1978. 

More sorting into groups of bricks is the order of the day as we really want to use every bit.  How are we going to use all the wheels?  We decide to incorporate them into the body wall of our creature.  

In the mean time - I start working on the head.  A boat will serve as the lower jaw...

Our old lego motors get incorporated  at the top of the legs - to better bear their weight.  A string of duplo bits becomes the tail.  The animal is taking shape!   But how to incorporate so many wheels - there seem to be an endless supply of them...

The sun has already crept towards the horizon by now.  

We have a welcome interruption of an evening tea.  Enoch - who never wants to waste a minute chooses to tae a quick read.

And so the day winds late into the night.

We have not fulfilled our quest.  

The beast has taken shape - but there are still many pieces to add and he is not finished by a long shot.   Before we clean up we take a final shot....  of our lego dog!

Another day of work on the next Saturday still doesn't finish our original goal of getting all the pieces into one big item.  We start a wall behind him and want to put all the little figures in front of the dog - but the cruel nature of time takes over.

We just don't have the time to get all the odd little bits that we have left onto him.  One thing we know: over the years we have accumulated a lot of lego.   Not quite enough to build a lego house.  

But then again.  We used almost everything we had (and could have just dumped all the rest into the 

stomache of the beast if we wanted too)!  I did hope that we could find another half a day or so to finish it off.

So Lego dog got shelved for a better day... and the weeks went by till we needed the base plates for Enoch's b-day party.  After putting in an hour to try and finish off lego-dog, we call it a day.

A last picture of Enoch with Lego-dog!

... and then it goes the way of all flesh (at least all lego-flesh).... it is dismantled and put back into the suitcases the bricks came from.  So that they will be made into something new again on another day of play.