prayer for Lent

I think I will go to sleep now. And I will sleep well. On Friday I was praying the sorrowful mysteries and it was soo deep and soo sorrowful. The Rosary, the amount I cried, praying the Rosary, is just incomparable, is incredible.
I think it had much to do with the fact my brother systematically insulted and told me we would never have a normal brother relationship because I am a moffie (faggot), gay.
But later on I felt, even though he did not say it, that he was sorry for he said. He was watching TV and he could of turned up louder, but he did not.
What did I do for him to be so rude? I asked him to stop arguing with a drunken man (a person I doubt he knew) outside our garage and all he said was 'We will lower our voices'. I warned him I would call the cops, he did not care and I did, but then he did care. Luckily the person left, and my brother came in and brought his wrath on me. I called the cops for them not to come. And in that same hallway, my brother really insulted me good.
Praying afterwards helped. I was so grateful to the Lord that I have a brother, that is well and alive, and even though what he said hurt, it would be better than having no brother at all.
My brother told me how in December, on his way back into town from the coast, he was literally seconds away from the being involved in the bloodiest accident of 2011.
Praise the Lord he survived.
We are now on 'normal' speaking terms with him. Everything is ok. Praying the Rosary, so powerful.

Looking for a gate

I remember Gene Robinson, the gay Anglican or (Episcopalean) Bishop, saying that as gay people, we have so long just been sitting at the gate and once we go in we will never be content with standing by the gate ever again. He was addressing the Union Theological Seminary and referring to a passage in the Acts of the Apostoles where the disciples heal this man who is just by the gate of the temple, who was ostracised, according to Gene's reading, and now is part of the community of believers, by entering the temple. 

This morning I went looking for the entrance to a gate that leads to a church. The place was called the Windhoek showgrounds and the His People Church rents out a hall for Sunday worship. The trouble is the main entrance of the showgrounds were closed, as they should be. So I spent almost half an hour running around some shady dirt roads in the complex that led to closed gates or just bushes by a riverbed, a classic scene for  robbery here in Windhoek. Thank goodness nothing happened. 

Eventually, I did go around via the back entrance and greeted the passerby, church goers who were on there way home.

You I always go to Churches, except my Catholic Church, after the sermon. I just go for the mingling, the fellowship, the people. I avoid hearing the sermons, because so many times you hear something at these Churches (by 'these' I mean contemporary Christian evangelical like Churches where you can sing basically the same worship songs like ' this is my daily bread...' all over the world) that is so heterosexist, so assumes you are heterosexual or even worse alienates your gay identity. So I just stopped going. But now, I wonder, is the problem with the Church or is it just me? I love the people, in fact today I went so I could talk to a friend Euan, who is a Scott, doing a technical assistance intership at the ministry of finance. He goes to the Church and he is a really swell dude, I met him from my friend Guillaume who was his roomate before he left to teach French in China. Two Sundays ago. I ran into him just outside his office (he was preparing the speech for the Finance minister on the budget) and I just opened up to him, told him about film 'Skoonheid' (google it!) about how it affected me as a gay man and how I was Christian too. He said something to the effect, 'yeah people should just be who they are , but sometimes Churches do not understand'. I felt a genuine connection with Euan then and I thank the Lord for that. Now this Sunday I wanted to connect with him again, on a deep spiritual level, but I was avoiding the Church service he goes to. Why? Am I keeping myself at the gate? Why do I not go in? There is no-one at the door checking for your sexual orientation as you enter so what is going on?

I saw Euan just as he was leaving, approaching the gate of the showgrounds, which I had finally entered. We chatted for a bit with two of his friends, two girls - one of whom is from Malawi but I did not want to bring up the whole gay persecution thing when we rode back in Euan's car, I mean I had just met her! So he dropped me off at my building, where I work and I said : 'So Euan I would love to catch up with you, we should do dinner sometime, would you like to?"

Euan crossed his arms as stopped the car and looked at me somewhat worried 'What do you mean dinner?"

Oh no, so here I was dressed in a very tight pink shirt and he knows I am gay, asking him out to dinner. So to console him I said: 'friendship dinner'. Relieved he said 'sure, yeaha and we have a braai I will invite you sometime'.

I thanked him and that was it.

I sure hope to meet more of Euan and learn more from him!

Christmas songs in March

I just go these Christmas songs, I actually got the email months ago in my old account (pancho767@hotmail.com) that I never use, and only check sometimes. They are songs sung by my dear friend Zach Marr with his best friend Daniel. He sent them to me two days before Christmas, but I did not open it then (what was I doing? then).

I loved the first song 'Santa Claus is about to expire, because he is so fat he will have a heart attack' or something or the other. I felt humor tingled with sadness hearing this. Well first of all, it is funny and overweight Santa Claus, and more so since I work in the field of public health and I have presented on cardiovascular risk disease profiles (obesity!) of a population here in Namibia. But then also we lost a colleague in South Africa, the esteemed professor Mark Colvin, to a heart attack at the end of January. He was the research leader of the project we are doing to understand the HIV epidemic of Namibia. I would not be sitting in my office here, writing this, before I read up about modes of transmission, were it not for him. 

Zach Marr's voice is so mesmerizing, as wonderful as ever. Who is this other boy Daniel? Is it the tall Daniel from Princeton , programmer, with a Jewish parent, but he choses to practise Christianity? I am not so sure. I think that profile fits many people who have graduated Princeton, but I know which one I am talking about, with his glasses and a friend of Zach and myself.