Theodicy

One day, when I was a child, I lent my relatively new bike to a friend, the friend promptly broke my prized bicycle attempting to go over a jump. In a whirlwind of tears, burning anger and shame at the fact that  I was responsible for a broken bike I ran my it back home. I discarded it on the drive and ran into the house and flung myself on the sofa, barely noticing my fathers presence on the sofa opposite. My dad asked me what was wrong ... To my shame I think I told him to piss off, or at least words to the same effect.

So pretty much a run of the mill tantrum right? Why would I be talking about this now? Because some things about the human condition don't actually change. They change their outfit, sure, but the issue itself remains the same. You, I and every child in the world still have tantrums it's just that most of us dress them up differently now that we have 'grown up'.

When you think about it we have a great number of things to have tantrums over - certainly better reasons than when we were children. We discover poverty, injustice, chronic health conditions, relationship break downs and any other form of suffering that you can think of. There is an in-built trigger of rage and sadness in each of us when we are party to and particularly when we are the target of said suffering.

Of course being grown up we now realise that there is absolutely nothing that our earthly parents can do about these problems, indeed in many cases they are in fact the source of many of these problems. So what do we do? Well all too often we perpetuate the problem, we either internalise and end up imploding turning to self loathing which in turn sabotages all of our closest relationships or we externalise and end up exploding which respectively sabotages all of our closest relationships. Not good.

So this is why I started with this story - because my bike fiasco did not end this way. In response to being told where to go my dad could have taken offence and left me to cry it out on the sofa. Fortunately for me however, I have a good father. He told me that I could tell him what happened and that he could try and help. In my infinite wisdom  I had already concluded that the damage to my bike was beyond repair and as a result there was really nothing that my dad could offer me as consolation in this situation, hence I felt the need to rebuff him. I articulated the conundrum quite effectively - 'my bike is broken'. Of course my dads knowledge of bikes was far superior to mine and so he decided that rather than solving the small problem of my bike he would fix the bigger issue of my attitude. He came over to my sofa and wrapped his arms around me.

Of course he assured me that he would do his best to fix my bike but he was far more interested in letting me know that a much healthier way for me to resolve my issues was to come to him and explain my problem rather than believing the lie that all hope was lost. I had tried to fix my bike myself and couldn't - that doesn't mean my bike is beyond repair. But more important than any of that, my relationship with my dad was of far greater value than any bike I could own. The refrain that shaped my childhood came out once again. 'I might not always like what you do but I will always love you, no matter what.'

After some time on the sofa I calmed down a bit and apologised to my dad, we went out together to get my bike and of course my dad showed me how it could be fixed easily without even needing any tools.

Ok, time to bring this back to us adults. We experience the 'broken bike' in our lives and it hurts, we don't really have any human relationships that are able to fix those hurts but we certainly try. We marry people who 'complete' us, we drink, gamble, sleep around, advance our career, work harder, get stronger be better all in an attempt to fix our broken bike. The issue is that at best we only break our bike further. We divorce, become alcoholics, get into debt, traffick modern day salves, get addicted to porn and cheat to get ahead in the game. Sooner or later we come to the end of our self destructive resources and we have to face the fact that our bike is broken and there is nothing we can do to fix it.

Now comes the equivalent of telling your dad to piss off... We blame God, we say that he cannot exist because of all this mess. We become frustrated with him and run away from him, we throw one heck of a tantrum.

Now here religion can do some seriously weird things, as Christians we often feel the need to cover up our problems. We can't possibly throw a tantrum that is beneath us. God is good and we know it but this situation makes it feel like God is not good. Both cannot be right so I will just bury the feelings and say God is great, YAY, praise the lord! We sell God short and don't actually take our frustration and anger and pain and anxiety to him we just say he is good and busily try and figure out how to patch ourselves up so we can look pretty on Sunday. We even create whole schools of theology to explain why there can be suffering  and a good God (we call it a theodicy) instead of facing our problems. Well this is a Faberge egg. We can do great at making it look pretty on the outside for a bit but it is paper thin and has absolutely no substance to it and just ends up propagating the problem. What's more this is not what the God of the bible tells us to do at all. It is some weird twisted, dismembered, decaffeinated version of what Christ has given us.

 Fortunately for all of us as good as my dad is he is not even a touch on how good God is. While we are far off trying to sort ourselves out and failing miserably he asks 'what is wrong?' it's not that he doesn't know the answer. He is giving you the opportunity to cry out and admit to him and to yourself 'my bike is BROKEN!'.

I can assure you when you make that admission to God, as painful and messy as it can be there is release. For some reason western Christianity has completely forgotten the place of lament, of unashamedly calling it like you see it. Life sucks some times and God is absolutely big enough to handle us screaming at him every now and again. When you are honest with God you give him the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and be enough for you. Now despite the fact that your bike is still in pieces on the drive things are looking better. Why? Because the far more important issue of your relationship with God is improving and that will set you free! The fact that God is also able to put your bike back together (and improve it too) becomes a small side issue by comparison to the fact that you have discovered something better than life itself. The love of God.

God of the gaps

Last night a sizeable group of us went hunting for the Aurora Borealis, to be honest I was rather sceptical from the start. I was more than happy to venture out into the cold hills surrounding Gloucester though - the stars were out in force.

We never did see the northern lights in the end, seemingly the scientists that informed various news agencies were wrong or maybe it just wasn't Gods will for us on that particular night.

Now here we have a bit of a conundrum, God Vs Science, arch enemies from the dawn of reason endlessly pitted against one another in a fight to the death. Of course some (Nietzsche) see that the fight is over 'God is dead'. Nonetheless there are myriad believers who profess otherwise and rather would see science as the losing side, never able to agree on a theory for longer than a decade or two it is simply misinterpreted data that is further misinterpreted every so often.

Of course this debate is hashed out in numerous arenas but none so severely as the existence of creation. The big bang theory and Genesis 1-3 are the weapons in this battle, forged by the most rigorous of scholars.

So with these two opponents poised ready to beat the snot out of each other what does the bookie say? What are the odds? Who is going to win, and who will die?

Now here we need to take a bit of a step back because something a bit odd is about to happen and we need to understand why. The atheist scientist largely understands his concept of God from the people who profess to follow him, naturally. The majority of the time this is Christianity and what does the scientist see the Christian doing? Well, he sees the Christian walk out into a field in the middle of the night expecting to see the northern lights. Except in the face of the disappointment of not seeing the northern lights the Christian decides to comfort himself with the sentiment that God must have not wanted to him to see the Northern lights that night. Now of course the reasonable scientist knows that there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for the northern lights not being visible from that particular field that particular night. The Christian therefore must be decidedly ignorant to settle for 'God didn't want it'. This behaviour is repeated everywhere to almost any question ... How did the earth come to be? 'God made it' Why is the sky blue 'God likes blue' where did man come from? 'God made man'

The Scientist analysing the Christians behaviour comes to the perfectly reasonable explanation that the Christian is like him seeking truth except whenever he discovers a truth that is uncomfortable or cannot explain something he simply replaces that truth with God.

Thus the God of the gaps is born. There has to be a God because without him we wouldn't have an explanation for the existence of the world, a reason to live or any warm comforting thoughts to consol ourselves with.

The scientist then has a mission, close the gaps! Pursue knowledge, provide explanations and there are no longer any gaps for God to be in and he will die and then we can all be liberated to do as we please.

So we have God of the gaps in one corner of the arena and we have science in the other, after thousands of years, millions of papers, countless debates and a whole lot of media hype science lands the final blow and the God of the gaps dies! Finally!

Now depending on your perspective this point is either yet to come or has already happened but the fact that it will happen is doubtless.

At this point the scientist rejoices, finally he has killed the tyrannous God of the gaps and he can pursue pure truth. He approaches the Christian to shake his hand, a gentlemen victor. He finds the Christian rejoicing, he must be excited about his new found freedom without God. The Christian exclaims 'now I understand how God did it all it is even MORE amazing!'.

The scientist sits back, looks at all that he has learned and for the first time perceives the face of God in the complexity and detail and structure of creation and realises that the whole fight was in fact orchestrated by God in the first place in order to reveal himself. He is not the God of the gaps, he is truth that underlines every discovery ever made. And yes, that is comforting. 

Crutch

'God is just a crutch for people who cannot cope with life.'

I have heard this from many people, especially while I was studying the philosophy of religion. When people are saying this they generally mean it as a slight insult to point out the seemingly obvious flaw in religion - it is only for people who are messed up and if you are doing all right then it's essentially pointless - no healthy person walks around with a crutch, it's just wrong. The prime motive of religion is seen as resolving difficult problems  to which there is no real answer. It pursues these resolutions above the pursuit of truth and therefore the latter bends to meet the needs of the former. Thus making it null and void.

Many Christians have responded to this saying that it is not true, God is not a crutch, he is a loving father, a real, personal, powerful, active God. While I believe this sentiment is true I wouldn't respond this way.

What would I say? Well probably something along the lines of ...

Amen! I have tried doing life my own way and I have tried doing it Gods way and without a shadow of a doubt I can confirm that life without God is like trying to walk with broken legs. My legs are broken, I need a crutch. In fact I would say that a crutch is being far too generous to me ... If we are going to analogise God with a piece of medical equipment then he is a defibrillator! I am just a sack of meat and bones without him. Life is void, pleasure is meaningless and death is hopeless without God. The fact that the outcome of a life with God is a positive one is not evidence for the falsification of Gods existence, it is proof of it! To say that a system is fabricated simply because it fulfils the yearnings  of the parishioners   is an absurd use of predetermined logic.

More to the point however, when a person accuses God of being a crutch they omit a very important element of analysis. They do not reflect on their own lives. If they did so then they would very quickly realise that their legs were broken and what they really need is a crutch to lean on. A God to carry them through.  But, as a very good friend once told me 'No one is as deaf as the one who does not want to hear, no one is as blind as the one who does not want to see.'

God puts just one single condition on salvation. Acceptance. You have to accept that your legs are broken before you will be willing to take up a crutch. You have to accept that you cannot make it on your own, you don't have all the answers and you need the help of the one who does before you are ever going to take his hand and let him pull you out of the pit.

Jesus said that he did not come for the healthy but for the sick. What he meant when he said this is not that some are healthy and some are sick. He was effectively saying - I have come for those who are willing to accept the help. Those who recognise their sickness and decide to give it to me instead of just denying it, those are the people I have come for.

Backgammon

So recently I have done quite a bit of travelling within the Near East and as a result am pretty exhausted, so this is a kind of random filler story about backgammon rather than any kind of update...

 One day I was downtown, camera in hand, without much to do so I went for a walk around to see what there was to see and more importantly photograph. The area was quite dull, generic architecture, traffic, Starbucks - it could have been any city in the world. That was until I stumbled upon the game of backgammon...

I don't know about where you are from but in the UK it is not an everyday occurrence that you see a sizable group of 40-50 somethings gathered around a board-game on the side of a busy street in the middle of the working week. Here it actually seems perfectly ordinary, in fact men sitting around generally doing nothing in the middle of the week is ordinary here. Of course the sight of this group got my 'interesting photo opportunity' sense tingling. I would love to say that I made a beeline for the group, quickly introduced myself and began an impormptu photoshoot.

The truth however is possibly mildly more amusing and certainly paints me in a less glorious and more accurate light... The men were sitting on the pavement on the side of a roundabout. I saw the group when I was about 1/3 of the way round the roundabout which is when my interest was spiked. As I got to where they were sitting I realised that I could barely speak a word of Arabic and was clearly a tourist, waltzing around with an expensive DSLR over my shoulder.

I chickened out. I passed calmly on by with an air of determination as though I was actually headed somewhere just around the corner and not at all interested in taking pictures of what was clearly the most mundane activity imaginable - a group of oldies playing a board game. Seriously my life is just one big adventure ...

So anyway after I had passed them by I looked back over my shoulder and winced slightly as I watched a perfect photo moment slip by because I was too afraid to capture it. I continued walking all the way around the roundabout and back down the street I had approached from. The internal dialogue at this point was something along the lines of ...

'Seriously?! What is the worst that could possibly happen, they say no? They start speaking in Arabic and waving their arms about as you take photos? Would they really chase you away? ... Seriously man up and just go take some photos!'

This is not a game of backgammon but I did see this on the way.

After about 5 minutes of walking the wrong direction I decided to throw caution to the wind! ... I crossed the street and headed back to the roundabout.

As a brief aside this whole experience involved crossing the road a lot of times and it was on one of these times I realised that they don't have zebra crossings here. Instead crossing the road is similar to photo opportunities, you pretty much just have to put yourself out there and hope that you don't die.

I arrived at the backgammon game which still lived on - it seemed they were not planning on going anywhere too soon. I walked over and stood looking over the shoulder of a guy observing the game and tried to do my best 'This is a genuinely enthralling game' face, despite not knowing the first thing about the game of backgammon.

After a few minutes one of the guys spotted my camera and saw straight through my paper thin guise of watching the game for interest, he started speaking in Arabic and motioning with his arms. Fortunately it was not as I had feared, he was not shouting and waving menacingly but rather giving the gesture for taking pictures.

I took the opportunity, muttered something in English and quickly retreated behind my camera and just started taking photos. It turns out the group of guys was pretty friendly, one of them had lived in Germany for 20 years and spoke some English, I spent about 30 minutes trying to scratch together a conversation with him and intermittently taking pictures. They were all taxi drivers who were passing their time at a slow point in the day.

My conversation with this one guy was actually quite sad, he was asking where in the city I had been and was quick to advise me where in the City not to go, he pointed over my shoulder down one of the roads and frowned. I asked him why I shouldn't go there. He explained that it was not safe, or clean there because it was the Muslim quarter. I was shocked at his casual prejudice as he continued to explain that he was Catholic and that this whole area, including the group of backgammon players were catholic. (It explained the rosary beads that they were carrying) As the conversation continued he explained the different catholic areas that I could go to and what they were good for, being a taxi driver he was of course trying to offer me a lift to these places. 

Interestingly the prices he was quoting me were excess of triple the going rate, no doubt seeking to take advantage of the naive tourist. To me this was a very interesting insight, outwardly people here are usually extremely friendly and polite but the truth is that they trust you as far as they can throw you and do not care to be trusted by others as far as I can see.

What is sad for me is that the Catholic community is this nations perception of what it means to be Christian and it is a poor display. The struggle to promote Christ in a predominantly Muslim region is made that much harder by those who misrepresent him. 

Title font used: 'Cubic'

Contrast

Shot up buildings next to brand new builds is a common sight here and is representative of the place as a whole - full of stark contrasts.

Remnants of war torn buildings are common place

If you like gritty urban grunge, contradictory messages, or just plain old interesting-face portraits, you can have a photographic field day and I am still loving it here!

The oldest Church in town with the youngest and largest mosque right behind it

In the week that I have been here I have tried to dig as much as I can to get a grasp of different elements of the culture. I feel like I am beginning to understand some of the nuances (by which I mean contradictions) that still make absolutely no sense at all.

Delicious local food being prepared (no its not pizza)

Image culture: This place takes the notion of 'first impressions matter' to a whole new level. Fitted clothing, overly groomed hair, flashy watches and smart shoes, all with designer labels, seem to be essential for young people. Not to mention the surprisingly high number of pristine Porches, Ferraris and Mercedes cruising the pothole-ridden roads. Here, image is everything. The level of respect that you command is pretty much entirely down to the way you look. It is not uncommon when meeting someone for them to look you in the eye, then down at your shoes, then across to your wrist, before talking to you in whatever way they see fit. To me this is usually in broken English trying to sell me something.

An old house which has actually been converted into a boutique cosmetic surgery complete with valet parking

At the same time this is also very much a relationship culture: 'It's not what you know it’s who you know.'  It takes time to build relationships with people that are anything more than surface level. But once trust is built you’re in possession of one of the most valuable commodities; everything becomes cheaper, faster and easier when you have 'wasta' with the people you are dealing with.

Very strong, very nice coffee

Mix all this in with an honour-shame culture and you have something that is comparable to driving here; a culture that is fantastically exciting, confusing and dangerous all at the same time. Don't ask me what the cultural equivalent of crashing would be, suffice to say that I don't think I've done it yet... That or I did it on arrival and have since died and gone to cultural heaven?

In case you were wandering this is an 'interesting-face portrait' ... taken in landscape

Well, seeing as this post is very quickly headed to a realm of incomprehensibility I think it's time to wrap things up and oh yes, maybe actually mention some of the things I have done ...

• Conducted my first interview and written my first story from it (yay!)
•  Been published
• Blown a chunk of my spending money on an amazing photo book
• Served some field workers by painting their apartment
• Made some new friends (unfortunately not locals but friends all the same)
• Been on an enjoyable and informative 4 hour walking tour of the city with my new found friends
• Visited a convent
• Watched the sun set every night
• Learned to play a new board game
• Taken a bunch more photos
• Gotten a hair cut (kind of a big deal here with the whole image culture thing)
• Tried local food (its delicious)
• Learned how to say 'How are you?' and to respond appropriately in Arabic
•  Met more field workers and heard snippets and tasters of great stories that I am hoping to hear in all their glory over the coming weeks

Title font used: 'Scorched Earth'

Laudium #2

'Please, pray for me. I am addicted to glue, I want to stop and go to rehab but I'm addicted, pray for me!'

She had a glue pot in her hand and her fingers were covered in glue. She stood just below my shoulder height and looked as though she were in her late 40s. She was as thin as a rake and as high as a kite. Her forefinger and thumb were corroded, the skin was black and dead from all the handling of solvents. She was lowly. Let's call her Sally.

We obviously prayed for her with the lady who had called us over in the first place (turns out she was a Christian) Afterwards Sally asked us to come and visit her the following day when she was not high so we arranged a time and took her address.

The following day we discovered that the address was completely wrong and that Sally was fairly well known in the community. The resident at the false address gave us better directions.

Note to self - don't rely on information given by people who are high.

We found her at her place shortly after and she was sober. She was happy to see us and I don't believe she meant to give us an incorrect address. She explained she didn't have any tea so couldn't offer us any but we had bought our own. She got cups from the neighbours as hers were all filled with glue. As she made us tea she explained a bit about her life. She lost her mother at a young age and had a huge amount of hurt in her childhood. She ended up as a prostitute at the age of 17 and from there got hooked on drugs. Later she met her now partner, let's call him Sam. Sam Gave her a house, food, love and drugs. He did not really set her free from prostitution, he just made it exclusive. She explained how he abuses her but she is strong - she fights back. Sam is addicted to Cocaine and he is 49 - a similar age to my own father, a scary thought. Fortunately the drugs usually pacify him more than anything.

After we had been talking with Sally for some time Sam arrived back home. He went straight through the living room where we were talking and into his room. Sally first explained how lucky we were that he did not immediately kick us out and then introduced us and explained what he was doing as he was crushing the cocaine pill into a powder. I sat down next to him and started talking as he smoked. The girls went back into the living room. I sat and talked to him for some 2 hours (we overran the time we were meant to stay quite significantly) he explained that he was a Muslim and believed in the Quran. I questioned about his drug addiction, he knew he was not supposed to be on drugs and that he was meant to be praying 5 times a day but that belief seemingly made no difference at all, his justification was that he was able to hold down a job and afford his drugs and he didn't hurt anyone. I didn't bring up the abuse of his partner.

Sam was quite happy to tell me lots about his beliefs and stories from the Quran. I questioned him on his belief about Jesus. He immediately kicked up a fuss and went on a 20 minute rant about Christians and their beliefs - almost all of which he was mistaken about.

I talked to him about what we actually believe but he was very dismissive and often very rude but I can handle insult if it opens the door for me to share what I know.

The gospel is offensive to some, especially to Muslims when it comes to Jesus being the son of God so I figure if we are unable to receive our fare share of insults how can we expect them to.

Our conversation got quite heated at times (though nothing compared to some of the conversations I have had with my own family about issues that we agree on 99% of the time)  I later realised that Sally had started crying when she heard him shouting because she was afraid of what he would do to me. In the end though he actually invited us back on Friday for dinner - no small deal when it is straight from his pocket and he is not exactly wealthy, Cocaine is pretty expensive.

In the time that I had been talking to Sam one of Sallys friends had popped in and the 2 girls who I was with talked with her as well. Let's call her Kate. Kate is a Cocaine addict and professes to be a Christian, she is not in as deep as the other two - she holds down a job and doesn't need to smoke every day but she is still trapped.

That Friday during the day one of our team members met Sally in the street. She was covered in glue and was very high - she explained that they had no electricity in the house and that we could not come. We decided to learn from the first lesson and ignore the retraction of the invite - we did not expect to get fed but we needed to show that God loves this lady - especially when she makes mistakes.

We went and on the way to her place we Found Sally in the street sniffing glue. She invited us back to hers - the lights were on and Sam was in and so was Kate. Sam greeted us with a smile but was clearly not happy that we were there. He went to the kitchen to continue smoking and we sat in their room with Kate and Sally. We prayed for them and as we did so they wept, we were tearing up as well but had to remain strong while there. They knew that they had to leave it behind and they want to make God everything - even more than drugs in their life - but it is not an easy decision to make. Sally explained how she was not going to take glue that day but someone on the street had just handed it to her. She was completely sober by this point, we told them that they need to get out. They need to leave this place and these people if they are going to give up their addiction but it is not easy to tell someone that they need to leave the people they love in order to stop taking the drug they are addicted to but they knew that it was true, they knew that what they were doing was killing themselves. Sally said 'I want to follow God but I know when I take drugs I let the devil inside.' They told stories of some of the dreams that they have and it was nothing short of terrifying. We sang some worship songs together that they knew from childhood. When we were done Sally was smiling, 'I feel hope' she said. She had a sparkle in her eye that was not there before.

The next time we saw Sally was the following Tuesday, 4 days later, it was our last day and we wanted to say goodbye and pray with her one last time. She was alone in her house again and sober. We asked how she had been and she explained that after we left on Friday she Sam and Kate had smoked solidly for3 days until Monday afternoon and she now had severe chest pain because of all the glue. We asked her to be honest, not to tell us what we wanted to hear but to tell the truth - was she ready to leave drugs, was she sincere about quitting and following God whole heartedly. There was a local pastor who ran a rehab but he would not take on any patients unless they were very serious and committed to quitting. Her response was heart breaking. She simply said 'I don't know, I am weak' I am glad that she gave an honest answer though. We prayed again with her and asked her to pray. She said I don't know what I would say. We said she needs to tell God everything, all the things that hurt, explain the reason why she started drugs, talk about everything that hurts that she wants God to heal. She prayed and just thanked God that he loves her - that she saw in us. It was strange to see someone so ready to pour out her heart and past and hurt onto complete strangers but unwilling to address that hurt before God. Actually I think we all do that and it is a real battle to take those things before God despite the fact that we  know that he already knows what we would say. There is that knowledge that we have to admit our problems to ourselves before we tell God about them and we know that God won't just sit on that information. He will do something about it. He will begin to heal but that is a sometimes a long and very painful process but it is worth it.

We are all addicts to sin - we need to admit that before God or we will never be free.  Only once we have admitted that can God begin to address the reason that we are addicts and heal us of the sickness that all mankind shares.

Title font used: 'Alhambra'

Laudium #1

I have spent the last 2 weeks in a township called Laudium. Created in the 60s under apartheid for 'non whites'. This results in a very concentrated population of Indians who are now 3rd or 4th generation South Africans yet somehow have maintained their Indian accent and to some extent their culture.

A Minaret

This was a world faiths outreach - the purpose being to gain a greater understanding of the other main world religions. Laudium is around 60% Muslim 30% Hindu and 5% Christian. This outreach put a face on those numbers.

The cleaning area in the Mosque

On the first day we visited a Mosque and a Hindu temple for exposure. It was a very interesting insight into a different world. The Mosque was clearly very well funded and our tour guide was very friendly and allowed us to take pictures. Dream.

The 99 names of Allah

The Hindu temple was quite different - it was dilapidated and the stench of incense was almost overwhelming. The thing that stood out the most though is that the people who ran the temple were more than happy to give 2 completely contradictory answers to the same question asked by 2 different people just 5 minutes apart. In my limited experience this pretty much sums up Hinduism.

The Tamil Hindu temple

For our duration in Laudium we were reaching out into an area called white blocks. It is the poorest area in the town yet is a stone's throw from the houses of millionaires. It was quite surreal everyday to walk past a mansion with a Porsche Cayenne in the drive and 5 minutes later be in someone's house who didn't even have a handle on the door let alone a lock because they have nothing worth stealing.

The prayer price list

Laudium and specifically White Blocks is renowned for being gripped by drugs, any substance you want you can get it there and where there are drugs there is crime. Most of the people we talked to in the 2 weeks made some mention of the murder of a 16 year old boy the previous month in the streets that we were walking on, though the way it was talked about was common place. We visited one house and asked the 18 yr old there whether he felt safe in Laudium. He said 'No' and pointed to the bullet hole in his wall - it was at head height.  He explained how thankful he was that he was not in the house at the time and his plans to leave Laudium as soon as he could.

A Hindu shrine in a house

The police seem powerless to do anything about this, We were talking to one Muslim lady who runs a tuck shop with her husband from their house. We were asking them about how their beliefs affect their lifestyle and how they find living in an area like White blocks. She said that they loved it and would never go anywhere else because they have a strong community. In the hour and a half or so that we were talking I counted at least 5 different people who walked into the courtyard and bought drugs off of the ladies family members. The tuck shop was across the road from the police station.

On another occasion we were talking with some guys by the side of the road about crime, the local area, police etc and a policeman drove past. The man we were talking to flagged him down, he clearly knew the officer. He asked him a question  'A personal question: A good cop is a dead cop. True or false?'

The cop laughed. 'No, no some times in order to catch the criminals you first have to make friends with them.' He smiled and then explained that he really needed to change out of his uniform before talking any more.

Policing will never change the hearts of men, Only Jesus can do that.

Title font used: 'Alhambra'