The quest for the historical Jesus

From a friend:

EVEN GOD ENJOYS A GOOD LAUGH!

There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was Black:
1. He called everyone brother.
2. He liked Gospel.
3. He didn't get a fair trial.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Jewish:
1. He went into His Father's business.
2. He lived at home until he was 33.
3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his Mother was sure He was God.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Italian:
1. He talked with His hands.
2. He had wine with His meals.
3. He used olive oil

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was a Californian:
1. He never cut His hair.
2. He walked around barefoot all the time.
3. He started a new religion.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was an American Indian :
1. He was at peace with nature.
2. He ate a lot of fish.
3. He talked about the Great Spirit.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Irish:
1. He never got married.
2. He was always telling stories.
3. He loved green pastures.

But the most compelling evidence of all - 3 proofs that Jesus was a woman:
1. He fed a crowd at a moment's notice when there was virtually no food.
2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men who just didn't get it.
3. And even when He was dead, He had to get up because there was still work to do.

My first fitting!

This may look like a preview to the new Mr Bean movie, but believe it or not, this is me! It feels absolutely great to be draped in red. Thanks Dion for coming with and taking the pictures and also for the great gift of buying my hood. The last photo was taken at DEWCOM.

Old ladies and rugby balls

Well, I've been back in the office for a week now and I must say that I have mixed feelings about people who say that they know Mr Jesus.

The ladies (and gents, but more the ladies because they spoil me with coffee and cake) have been extremely good to us. One lady from the congregation came into my office, told me to wake up and demanded to know why I am not aware of what is going on in each of our members' lives. Might I add that we have about 3500 of those - not the old lady, but members.

And so my mind started to wander... to a time and place in the past... where worries were few and dreams were in abundance... a place in primary school... on the rugby field... where I placed a ball perfectly poised for an attempt to convert a try... I stepped forward and kicked... releasing all frustrations, temptations and all other things ending in "ations"...

Tempting... VERY tempting.

Last day at Scottburgh

This is our last day at Scottburgh. These two weeks certainly went by quickly. Nevertheless, we have formed lots of memories to carry us through until we return in February, God willing.

The closest I'll come to riding a Harley.

Don't I look good on this V-Rod?

Waffling about waffles

There is nothing quite as nice as eating waffles and ice cream at the coast. There is nothing quite as delightful as testing the quality of the waffles at the new waffle shop that opened last week. Not only do they serve the traditional waffles and cream (or ice cream), but they have a variety of other extras that make this shop worth stopping at. Waffles with fruit salad, waffles with caramel, with Bar One sauce, and then for the not-so-sweet tooth, waffles with pickled pork, with chicken, lamb curry and even savoury mince. Who could be so inventive? Only the English! The owners used to live right next door to Old Trafford, but decided that opening a waffle shop in Scottburgh would be more fulfilling. I just had to chuckle, because in this Pommie shop they were playing De la Rey for background music. That’s like playing Yankee Doodle in an Iraqi Coffee shop, or at least the one that used to operate on the corner of Saddam street and Hussein avenue a couple of years ago.

See if you can spot my Baywatch babe.

A bit of reality.

"If you want a tree to grow upright, you do not wait for it to grow for 13 years before you decide to pull it straight." These were the words of Muslim clerics to the ANC when discussing issues of morality.

A few weeks ago I was part of this conversation as the ANC, in preparation for their policy meeting, consulted with leaders from different religious communities. The theme of the workshop was "Value of values". For the last 13 years, the government has taken a backseat on issues of religion. In my opinion, all that it seemed to say about religion is that it is a good idea for people to practice theirs while being tolerant of religions different to their own. And so, formal academic theological training has dwindled as the state and academic institutions do not see Theological or Religious faculties as an investment in the building of our communities.

And so, we have let this tree grow for 13 years without investing in a rod that will help this tree grow upright.

I just spoke to my brother in Pretoria. He and the lady he lives with were robbed in the early hours of this morning. They live in a security complex within a security complex. Yes, you read right - two sets of security firms, two sets of fences, two boomgates. Jacques wasn't there, but Vicky was. She was badly assaulted and threatened with her life. If Jacques were there, they would have probably shot him - that is what they do: shoot the men, beat the ladies. The two robbers stole a HUGE plasma TV and a cuboard full of clothes. Now, how did they get all that stuff out of the complexes when there are patrolling security guards?

What can we do to get this tree straight? Mr Nqakula reads into the crime statistics that things are not worth worrying about. Mr Mbeki does not seem concerned about the social dynamics that form when over a million refugees flood over our borders while one tyrrant after another destroy not only their hopes and homes, but also ours.

The meeting with the religious leaders clearly said to the ANC: "You reap what you sow.". Hell, I'm angry! Too much of me is telling me that it is irresponsible of me to raise our children here.

Day 6

uShaka marine worldWe took a walk along Durban's golden mile. I rode on these exact toys nearly 30 years ago! Oh, the memories...

Day 5

Once a year, while we are in Scottburgh during the July holidays, we take a drive down to Uvongo to visit my grandparents. This year my dad is visiting with them, so it promised to be a big reunion. And what a reunion it was!

On our way there, I was made aware of how much Gauteng is part of my lifestyle. I decided to take the old South Coast road, which is a single lane road running parallel to the N2 highway. Travelling this way saves you at least a full year's wages - before tax! Instead of paying hard earned cash, the local authorities make sure that you pay in other ways. First, we had to contend with a bicycle race. The South Coast isn't exactly known for its young life, so most of the cyclists were overaged, overweight and overly casual in their attempt to to put one foot ahead of another. Perhaps they would have made more progress if they rook their training wheels off. Once past the cyclists, we had to deal with the newly retired who gave their rendition of the Breakfast Run on expensive motorcycles. You could see that they were newly retired, because they are the generation that invented Botox and plastic surgery. There were absolutely no wrinkles flapping away in the wind and neither did any of them give any expression of joy or pain on their faces.

With a heart pumping and blood pressure on the climb, we eventually passed them... only to be met by the back of an overeager evangelist's caravan, travelling at 40 in an 80 zone with "Take time to be holy" printed in luminous colours above the rear window. Does Jesus really have to be everywhere? I am sure that if he travelled on the old South Coast road, he would have done so not on a bicycle which seat mysteriously disappeared between bumcheeks, neither would he have prodded around on a Harley (a Vespa maybe), but certainly not at 40 k's an hour in an old bakkie towing a converted caravan.

A pleasant day, nevertheless

Day 4

What a beautiful day! It was about 25C, no clouds, 15 km/h wind to cool things down a bit and a sea like a mirror. Check these out:

My new hero

I am busy with my second Clarkson book called "Born to be riled". Jeremy is a presenter on BBC's Top Gear. This guy is seriously funny. Check out this clip to see what I mean. His books are even more full of... wit.

Scottburgh - Day 2

Well, Nathan developed an upper-respitory infection overnight. We took him to the doctor, who put him on a course of antibiotics straight away. Then one of their cousins came to visit with his mom and threw-up on our lounge floor. So, I've had my fair share of grossifying stuff for today. Matt, I and all the cousins went to the Croc-farm as it was too unpleasant to go to the beach. Here are some pics:


Matt, Alfred and crock in the background.
Matt, all the cousins and Alfred.
Crocs.

Day 1 - Scottburgh

I am feeling the post-doctoral depression setting in. Many warned me about this, and I can testify: It exists. But here are my loved ones at the sea. Seeing their enjoyment is enough to lift anyone's spirits, especially mine. Feeling better already.