You've grown comfortable
Over the centuries, Poverty—over
Huddled throngs of sufferers
Working thin, dying empty.
How long will men and women
Remain so unaware? We scurry
Between parcels, paperwork, and townships;
You roost unconcerned, your
Nest egg far beyond our frantic hands.
Your machine runs on our fear of lack:
One marionette takes from fifty others,
Worry tethering him to your fancy.
His careful exploitation keeps you
Fat and happy.
You perch, blubber oozing on all sides,
On a tin stool behind a tattered shower curtain,
Thumbing buttons to keep us afraid,
Beguiling us with tall economic tales.
You are wealth's cheap counterfeit:
Ozymandias' empty boasts,
Oz's wimpy wizard--
It won't be guns or funds
That finally end you.
One day the King of Glory will
Melt the callouses from our eyes.
When we see what we've done,
and what you are, o Poverty,
Our hands will drive His Truth
Deep into your bloated gut.
You'll fall off your tin throne,
And no one will see; no one will care.
We'll be too awestruck,
Dumbstruck at the real thing
To note the end of a fraud.
I'd like to tell you a Christmas story. My Christmas story doesn't begin with angels, or shepherds, or a star. It begins with an old man.
I imagine Malachi as a seasoned old man who'd shared the word of the Lord with Israel for decades. But I could be wrong about that. Whatever his age, Malachi wrote these poignant words:
See, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the parents to their children, and the hearts of the children to their parents; or else I will come and strike the land with total destruction.
Then, there was silence. The prophets, who weren't so popular in Israel (check Hebrews 11:36-38 to see how they were treated), didn't speak again, and the voice of the Lord wasn't heard in Israel.
For over four hundred years.
These were dark times in Israel's history. There was a military victory, which they celebrated for centuries afterward, but no proceeding word from God. Roman occupation began, and the Caesars ruled with an iron fist. More and more Israel began to cry out for deliverance, and to long for her Messiah.
But then, after centuries of silence from heaven, there came a sound.
It was a sound full of paradox: both ordinary and extraordinary, both human and divine. Fragile yet powerful, tiny yet the most significant sound ever heard in human history to date.
A four-century silence was shattered by the cry of a baby, and within a few minutes angels were seen and heard in the skies above the hills around Bethlehem, saying, "I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord... Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests."
God's voice changes everything!
Do you have a moment when you heard God's voice and it changed something for you?
His voice has brought me immeasurable comfort. His voice has filled me with holy fear. His voice has warned me, and his voice has made me laugh. I'm so thankful for the voice of God, a thread of grace that has sustained me throughout my life with him.
As we celebrate Emmanuel this year--God with us, let's cherish the joy of hearing his voice. Because ever since that baby grew into a man who paid for our sins and reunited us with the Father through his precious blood, we no longer need prophets to hear his voice on our behalf. What a treasure, to hear his voice!
Look what the Lord has done
Berakah has two "classroom blocks". The older one, built with bricks and containing two classrooms and two bathrooms, recently underwent a phenomenal transformation thanks to God's generous provision through churches and donors in South Africa and in Texas. Aren't these classrooms gorgeous! We are so thankful!
Back to school!
On 16 September, after six months of Corona-induced forced closure, Berakah welcomed 4-year-old and 5-year-old learners back to campus. The sound of children learning, playing, and singing is music to our ears!
Mike was invited to help facilitate Hatfield Christian Church's "worship and music track" for its Year of Your Life program. The students dug deep into what worship as a lifestyle means, dimensions of revelation and expression, and even wrote collaborated songs in small groups. A wonderful and productive time that we trust bears long-term fruit in their lives.
Running hard and getting real
The James 1:27 Trust recently partnered with Jesus4Real, a ministry that rescues trafficked young women and begins the long, painful process of rehabilitation in a safe house in town.
The house Jesus4Real has been occupying is up for sale (it had been "rented" to them for free), and they are raising funds, using the Trust's giving platform and a page Mike built, to purchase it as a "forever home" for the ministry and for the women they journey with.
Two Saturdays ago, the fundraising drive was launched with a 127km weekend run by two friends of the Trust. To build awareness, others were encouraged to run, cycle, or hike 5km or more and post on social media. Our family hiked 5km, and Mike ran an additional 10km.
On the weekend, we able to raise about R25,000. A great start! We'll keep you posted on Jesus4Real's journey to home ownership.
Transformation in a new season
Much like the trees and fields are coming to life as spring arrives in Pretoria, and Berakah's classrooms have come to life once again, we trust that God's transforming life will awaken new vision for you in the "post-Corona" season that is coming.
What the new season means for us
Here are some ways you can pray with us for the new season ahead!
In 2009, my friends Mingo and Lucy Barron wrote a song whose bridge captivated me. It's been part of my devotional life, and a mini-chorus I've often led in corporate worship, ever since. This August, when ideas started echoing in my head around these four lines, Pastor Mingo gave me permission to recraft a new song around it.
The best part? Charis collaborated with me. So amazing to worship Jesus with my baby girl!
What name could I breathe to make darkness flee
Who else can I call to see giants fall
Whose feet can melt the highest peaks
Whose glory makes the heavens sing
It’s a name like no other
It’s a love like no other
It’s a grace like no other
What love gives its life for an enemy
Who crawls in this ditch just to rescue me
What love would pursue me across the sea
What grace carries me through all my grief
It’s a name like no other
It’s a love like no other
It’s a grace like no other
You’re a name like no other
You’re a love like no other
You’re a grace like no other
©2009, 2020 Christian City Music by Mingo Barron, Lucy Barron, Mike Noviskie, & Charis Noviskie
The intensity of this current season of disruption will be brief in comparison to the long view of history. The consequences of the decisions we make at this time are are quite a different matter. Wisdom and discernment are called for. All our choices now have consequences later.
As I write this, our Covid-19 lockdown in South Africa has reached 118 days--nearly four months. Beside the obvious health crisis, the two major issues facing South Africa's impoverished communities are food security and unemployment.
While many businesses have been allowed to open fully or partially, crèches (early childhood centers) like Berakah have only in the last two weeks been permitted to open, but with such serious restrictions that township crèches don't have the resources, financially and staff-wise, to cope. Berakah's founder and principal, Nomthandazo (Sophie), has decided to wait until at least September, in hopes that perhaps with time Berakah will be able to make at least its Grade R (kindergarten) classrooms compliant.
What does an education ministry do when we can't run a school? Chandra and Nomthandazo have been hard at work serving Berakah's staff and families during this brief but intense season.
The third monthly food voucher recently went out to Berakah's families, allowing parents to purchase groceries according to their family's needs at a neighborhood grocery store. Thanks to all of our friends and churches who helped make this amazing ministry a reality.
In addition, Hatfield Christian Church (our local partner church) has provided food parcels for twenty-four families. A former Berakah staff member helped Chandra locate needy families who were not connected to Berakah and who had not received any other assistance. Making these deliveries, Chandra witnessed hardship beyond any we've yet seen in South Africa. The Covid-19 season has been truly difficult for South Africa's impoverished communities.
Three young adults who are friends of ours teamed up to make a couple of thousand masks (currently required in South Africa) to donate to community ministries and hospitals. Berakah received seven hundred of these masks, and was able to distribute them to our families and to other needy families in the community.
With our crèche still unable to open and no children coming, and no income since March, Berakah had to sadly lay off all of its employees. It was very difficult, but necessary: without a letter of termination, none of Berakah's staff would be able to collect unemployment benefits. We remain hopeful that when spring arrives in late September, the warmer temperatures will slow down South Africa's surging Covid-19 cases, government restrictions will ease, and people will no longer be afraid to send their children to crèche. Only then can we hope to hire as many of our staff back as we can.
In the meantime, we invited a local business, Nena, to empower Berakah's unemployed staff with a tremendous opportunity. Nena is the only South African company that manufactures women's sanitary pads, making their product far more affordable than the typical imported product found in stores.
We have asked Nena to train Berakah's staff as independent sales agents. They'll learn to manage inventory and sell their product, making a bit of extra income to add to their unemployment benefits.
We're grateful and excited for this opportunity for our staff! The first meeting was today.
Significant decisions to come
We need significant prayer during this season. In the long view of history, it will be a blip, but decisions made during this short interruption can have lasting consequences!
Guitar strings, silent, strung
Across an empty floor.
Stopped with cobwebs.
All locked, all empty.
Bibles stowed away.
Spiderwebs in the pulpit,
And floors forgotten
By human feet.
Dirt on the windows.
Dust on the shelves.
Silence rings, not bells
And only insects hear.
Unless our hearts are shut and locked,
And our voices are silent,
Unless our lights are snuffed out,
And our eyes are shut with fear,
The inner sanctums of our hearts have gone cold,
And we’ve clogged the valves of kindness,
There is church today.
Instead of making excuses,
We make a way in the desert
Instead of stockpiling,
We give of God’s heart
And we wash our hands of bacteria,
But we don’t wash our hands of our neighbours.
And we might wear our masks,
But our eyes are wide open.
Church is now.
© 2020 Charis Noviskie. All rights reserved
Well, we’re stuck inside our houses
With the people we claim to know and love best
And now, with televisions, laptops or radios tuned in
We discover something called worship, online.
And it’s not the same
Weird without the coloured lights
The sound of a hundred speakers
And people—hundreds or more—just beside
There’re no dimmed lights
Instead we have dizzy sunlight,
Gleaming through familiar frames
And tinny sounds from only one speaker
A couple of people—family
And nowhere else to go
The sounds of family nearby
We can hear every breath
And the exact way that they might sing
And the sound of clothes rustling
No more big, dark, comfy spaces to throw loud voices into
No more forests of raised arms to secure our own hands
No more dimmed lights to hide expression
My soul is vulnerable
In a different way than before
Can I still worship in such a way?
When the world,
The people around me
Refuse to fade away?
When even closing my eyes seems wrong
And engaging is suddenly so much harder
Because I can hear the kids next door playing
And construction down the street
Somebody laughing too loud
I can hear cars and sirens and neighbours
And I can hear dishes clanging in the kitchen
I can smell the spices of home food
I am too distracted to worship!
But all these distractions
Aren’t they just the simple things that were always there?
That we’ve forgotten in spectacle—lights, crowds, stages
Maybe I am learning to appreciate
The copious aroma of life
Spicy, sweet, tangy
Salty, savoury, tender flavour
The taste and touch and feel of life--
In everyday moments
I can no longer block out
That the people around me are more precious than spectacles
And that God can be worshipped by us too
Together, in a way that doesn’t deny
This rich aroma
Of our everyday lives
Now I share with God
The kitchen cooking, dishwashing, couch-sitting, pillow-fighting,
Debating, laughing, crying, smiling,
Pet projects, pet peeves
The smell of home-cooked food
My everyday life
Because God loves to see life
© 2020 Charis Noviskie. All rights reserved.
It was October 2017, and the Houston Astros were in Boston playing the Red Sox for a chance to advance to the American League Championship Series. They were down 3-2, and the Red Sox had brought in Chris Sale, a feared veteran pitcher who may one day enter the Hall of Fame, to secure the win.
Alex Bregman, a rookie third baseman, stepped to the plate against Sale, and grinned at him. I thought for sure he would get a fastball in the ribs. But he hit a game-tying home run, and the Astros won the game in the end, advancing to the ALCS for the first time (and ultimately winning their first ever World Series title; I was beside myself with joy--but I digress...).
Bregman's confidence surely made a difference in that pivotal, pressure-filled at-bat.
Trust me entirely
That’s when doubt comes in: when we fail to trust God entirely. Pulled away from pure devotion, looking at the stuff around us, we forget that our help comes from Him. So we look to ourselves and our own resources, and we find them lacking, every time. In that lack we become overwhelmed, and we begin to doubt.
Faith through the storm
Peter made the right decision, though. He didn't try to run back to the boat; he didn't try to remember those breaststroke lessons from the third grade; he cried out to Jesus. And Jesus pulled him up immediately. That's the key to dealing with doubt: not turning to self-effort and abandoning faith, but turning our eyes back to Jesus.
We don't know how far Peter had walked from the boat--was it only a few steps? ten yards?--but he walked back with Jesus, hand-in-hand, through the raging wind and waves. Only when they got into the boat did the storm subside.
The difference between doubting in a storm and having faith through a storm lies in who I'm looking at and where my confidence lies.
I am persuaded
Imagine having watched Jesus walk on the surface of a wind-tossed lake, then step into the boat--and the wind and waves stop the instant his sandal touches the boat's floor. What a moment! Peter and the rest of the disciples responded appropriately: they worshiped Jesus, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God." What a recovery: Peter went from drowning in doubt, afraid for his life, to being fully convinced that Jesus is the Son of God.
This conviction appears in Paul's writings, too: I am persuaded... I am convinced...
In Romans 8, Paul is speaking of experiences like "trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword", when he says,
I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
We can follow Paul's example. In the middle of any adversity, we can say, "I am convinced". Not in our own ability, but in God's goodness and God's faithfulness.
You're going to outlive it
When we make these faith statements that are in line with God's word, we set our minds and hearts on "things above"—on God, on an eternal perspective.
If you are a believer, that eternal perspective is the only appropriate perspective for you: because you are an eternal being! Your life is already "hidden in Christ with God" (Colossians 3:3). As someone who will live forever with Christ in his kingdom, you will outlive every problem you're facing now.
Every storm. Every adversity. Every struggle.
You'll outlive it.
When we find our hearts wandering away from God because of doubt, it's time for a reset: we cry out to him if we're sinking like Peter, and we fix our minds and hearts back on him, making those "I am persuaded" statements of what we know to be true of him and his faithful character.
He'll carry us through. I'm convinced.
Confined in a filthy prison cell in Rome, Paul encouraged the church and wrote some of the greatest instructions on the believer's family and community life that we have. What an inspiration for us as we try to minister to our Pretoria area community during strict lockdown!
Over the last month of quarantine, we've been able to find a few creative ways to carry on. Mike has taught worship classes via Zoom from our living room. We recorded video devotions for Hatfield Young Adults that appeared on social media last week Monday through Wednesday.
Chandra has reached out to various teachers and parents via phone and text message, checking in. Berakah has also connected parents in Mamelodi with nearby government food relief services so they can get food parcels.
Food Security Challenges
Berakah's community is struggling for food due to the increased joblessness, difficulty with travel, and fewer available resources created by the Covid-19 lockdown. We are trying to come up with solutions, but we're running into roadblocks. Please pray for Berakah to have a strategic, responsible, legal solution to feed the families in our area. Specifically, we need 1) a certificate from government giving us express permission to operate as a food security provider; 2) resources for food parcels for 125 families, which will cost on average $3000 a month for the next three months.
With Berakah forced to close for lockdown and as such no income, we found ourselves unable to pay our staff's salaries. About two weeks ago, Chandra applied to South Africa's Unemployment Insurance Fund (UIF) on behalf of Berakah. We just received payment from UIF for more than the entire salary requirement for payday--which is four days from now. Hallelujah! We are so grateful to be able to care for our staff and their families!
Here are the "lockdown devotions" we prepared for Hatfield Young Adults. 😎