Thursday, July 23. Iavombony, outside Antananarivo. Continued.
The Synod was taking a break as we pulled into the Diocese of Antananarivo's IFLA Training and Recreational Center, and soon after we got out of the truck people began to gather round to welcome us with smiles and handshakes. Although many spoke only Malagasy, some greeted us in English, and some in French. Todd joined us and began to make introductions. There were so many new faces, and so many new names, but over the next few days, and then later in Toliara (Tulear) and Fort Dauphin, these new faces and new names would become new brothers and sisters in Christ: Rev. Donné, Rev. Jocelin, Rev. Kingsley (from Nigeria), Rev. Stephan, Rev. Jeriah and Rev. Sendra (who gave me their email addresses!), Dr. Zoe, and Evangelists Tomboasy, and Duncan and Victor (from Kenya). Later I met Bishop Jaona and his wife Tantely, who supervised all the meals at the Synod, and their daughter and son (who took pictures).
While all this was going on our luggage had been taken to the house where we would spend the next two nights and three days.
Ours is the house on the right. We stayed in the room to the left of the door, and you can see our window. Next to our room was a small room for the toilet, and next to the toilet a somewhat larger room with a space for taking showers, and a sink. Only occasionally did we have water through the faucet, and never hot water. Instead, water was brought to us, and to every other house and to the main building, from a nearby well.
Across the hallway, Todd and at least three other men slept in the room that ran the length of the house. Todd offered to put us up in a hotel, but the last thing Ingrid and I wanted to do was suggest that we weren't willing or able to share the same conditions as the other delegates, or that we merited better accommodations. Bishop Jaona and his staff stayed in the house on the left, and there were other houses behind the main building.
A portable gas generator supplied electricity to the Center's buildings. Occasionally the gas ran low, and then either the lights would begin to flicker, or we would be plunged into darkness, until the tank was refilled. And when the Synod recessed for the night, the generator was switched off, and we made our way, inside and out, with flashlights. (Fortunately, Ingrid and I had brought our penlights with us!)
The Synod's sessions were long, sometimes lasting three or more hours without a break, and even during the day very little light filtered through the narrow windows. This picture was taken in the middle of the afternoon, and I never saw the room any brighter than this. At night, the low wattage bulbs provided little illumination while the Synod continued to work through its agenda.
I have detailed all of these circumstances because I cannot imagine that anyone in any diocese in the United States would be willing to endure such conditions for the sake of the Gospel. We are so privileged to live in a country where clean water and reliable electricity and good roads are the rule rather than the exception.
Today is my first day back at work, and my Sabbatical is over. However, to paraphrase a great American, with apologies and affection, "the blog goes on, the posts shall endure, the hope of the Gospel still lives, and the dream of the kingdom of God shall never die."
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