Around the World Again

Oh, we have fallen in love with Buenos Aires. The avenues are broad and often lined with stunning tipas, a kind of rosewood tree with tiny leaves and remarkable trunk structures. These trees are coming into flower, so a haze of yellow is starting to cover them. Also along the ways are coral trees covered with velvety red clusters of the national flower of Argentina.

The city is filled with parks and park systems; our guide Alejandro said that 30% of its area is official parks. Add that to the squares and monuments and road landscaping and you’ve got a green city that smells good. The rose garden is a little bigger (!) than Elizabeth Park at home. A mammoth metal sculpture, Floralis generica, opens and closes according to the sun.
And for reasons unknown, there is absolutely NO trash. Apparently Argentinians are born knowing about waste receptacles. Furthermore, the graffiti is energetic and looks like art, not like the signature of hoodlums as in Rio.

There is a considerable focus on health and well-being. In the parks, little yellow buildings serve as wellness centers. Staffed by a doctor and a nurse, people can get simple lab work done, get weighed, get first aid, get referred. All is free. Also free are public education, health care, and orange bicycles, many being ridden all around us.

People do die here, and some are buried in an incredible cemetery. Recoleta is in the center of the city and has 4600 mausolea, some filled with fresh flowers, some covered with cobwebs, some being refurbished by the city.

The Water Palace knocks your eyes out; once the actual water pumping station, it now serves as the administrative center for the water department as well as a museum. But wow, it looks like a palace. And the new pumping station itself looks better than any other municipal installation I have seen – we thought it was the Cathedral.

The upscale residential neighborhoods are stunning; even the shantytowns are charming. The Ateneo bookshop looks like an opera house. At the Basilica of Our Lady of the Pillar (no, we don’t know what this dedication means), Jesus sits puzzled and weeping, and we can’t figure this out either.

Alejandro brought us (B&H + Doug and Jane Kline) to a bar called Atlantico for lunch: leek empanadas, grilled cheese (just cheese in a little pan), bread, fried capers, and pickled onions and peppers.

We are very happy cruisers.

Punta del Este is lovely. Uruguay’s premiere resort city is beautiful, immaculate, filled with brilliant flowers, sleek yachts, and NICE people. Here are three examples of niceness:
1. When Hope pulled a map from her pocket, her key card (that looks just like a credit card) fell out. A young man ran after us for a block to return it.
2. Bill left his phone on the restaurant table after lunch. The waiter followed us and handed it back to him.
3. We went to a ferriera (?) to get a new rubber tip for Bill’s walking stick. No one spoke English there, and our Spanish is a little weak, but we pointed and a clerk went “in the back” and came out with a box of rubber tips. One fit! We had only Brazilian and American money and a credit card. The clerk shook her head. Then she took an American dollar from us and gave us a fist full of change in Uruguayan dollars. (After figuring out the exchange rate, we can tell you that rubber tips are retty cheap in Uruguay: $0.41.)

The beach is long and beautiful and marked by a stunning sculpture called Dedos here and Hand in the Sand by English speakers. The photo only shows a few fingers, but from afar it really looks like fingers waved by someone buried far, far down. The statue depicted here is the father of the country who looks like he will topple over if you sneeze at him. But he stayed on his pedestal while we were there.

We saw jellyfish waving their tentacles beneath our veranda, a huge sea lion at the tender landing, and birds soaring around us (we haven’t had enough ornithology lectures to identify them yet). The sun made everything sparkle and sea breezes kept us cool. All in all, this is a very attractive place.

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Life aboard the Silver Whisper has changed. A twenty-one person expedition team has arrived to prepare us and the ship for the Antarctic part of our adventure. They look different; they are younger and very fit. They speak with enthusiasm, extensive knowledge, and conviction. They have loads of equipment with them, hoses, parkas, and odd shaped boxes.

Our lectures and amusements used to be delivered by people like our friend Michael Buerck, BBC anchor newsman and raconteur extraordinaire. Now glaciologists and ornithologists and cetologists give lectures and our heads start to spin. We have been taught about light v. heavy water in ice core samples, about the differences between albatrosses and petrels, about penguins and passerines (perching birds) and, of course whales and seals. The expedition team absolutely loves their subjects, and they are determined to make us just as excited as they are.

Outside our veranda, Zodiacs sail by, practicing for the adventure ahead. The little boats get hoisted from the ship’s bow on a huge crane and once in the sea, nuzzle in to be loaded from a tiny platform. Today the temperature is in the high seventies and we face the gorgeous beach of Punta del Este (Uruguay), and this embarkation looks difficult. How it will work when we are on the ice sheets makes us just a little bit anxious.

One of our suitcases sits under the bed filled with mittens and long underwear and heavy socks and wet pants and hats and scarves. Soon we’ll put the bathing suits away for a while. We are hoping that the notorious Drake Passage which is known for fierce storms will be the Drake Lake when we sail through its 500 miles to the Antarctic ice shelf.

In the center of Rio's crowded and vibrant bustle, the Roman Catholic Cathedral stands apart from the modern governmental and financial office buildings and old warehouses. The cathedral looks like an Aztec pyramid, is wide open to passersby and yet still manages to feel like a house of prayer. We think it has something to do with the light. The darkness hovers about you as you enter, creating a safe and holy place here in the city's center, but that darkness is pierced by the lively movement of brilliant color from the stained glass. Light pours in from the huge cross-shaped clear window 250 feet above and from the lively stained glass panels that descend down the walls. There is almost no more decoration save for a coach (looks like it was borrowed from Snow White) carrying St. Sebastian (complete with arrows) that moves through the streets on Sebastian's Feast Day (January 20).

P.S. The little yellow flowers pictured here are absolutely charming. They are about the size of a thumbnail and enliven every place they are planted.

We were off early to go up Corcovado Mountain where Christ the Redeemer stands with arms spread over the city. The statue was conceived and constructed as a religious icon, but it has become a cultural icon as well. We have heard many descriptions of what the Christ is doing: welcoming the world to Rio, being a symbol of peace, protecting the city, symbolizing Christ's dominion. The statue is BIG, 100 feet tall with an arm spread of 90 feet, and it rises from a 2300 feet high mountain.

You get up that mountain on a tram railway that opened in 1884 as a steam railway. After many variants, adaptations, and improvements, the tram is now a sparkling electric railway installed last year. The trip takes twenty minutes and is VERY steep. Once you emerge at the foot of the statue, you can't help but gasp at this gorgeous huge city that weaves in and out of the bays and ocean and mountains and favelas that surround it. And then you gasp at the statue, at its size, at the thousands of tourists that lie on the ground and lean over the railings to take photos at odd angles.

Around the back of the statue, buried beneath Christ's feet is a little chapel. Strangely, it is the chapel of the black madonna. The statue of the highly decorated madonna is small and accessible, and people sit on stools saying their prayers. It feels like the Christ is too big, too public, too stark, too municipal maybe to hear the prayers of the faithful. They need a little place where they can open their heart to a madonna who will listen and care.

Rio's population is 6 million; the urban area has 13 million. It is a lively city; walls have colorful graffiti that shimmer and ugly graffiti that mar the view. It is clean, the architecture is fascinating, and the cariocas (residents) are friendly and vibrant. Copacabana Beach extends for miles and there's not much free space on it.

We were having lunch on the pool deck looking out at the endless South Atlantic when small islands came into view and then larger islands and then Sugarloaf Mountain, the statue of Christ the Redeemer on Corcovado Mountain, and then the broad Guanabara Bay. The ship's destination lecturer gave us brilliant commentary as we sailed by the sights on our way to our berth. What a privilege! Sailing into Rio is fabulous. The iconic statue of Christ is 120 feet tall and looked like little more than a bump on the hill as we entered the bay; it grew to dominate our vision as we approached. We will visit it tomorrow.

Tonight we took a sunset cruise on a little catamaran, sailing around the bay. Leaving the marina that was the sight for the Olympic yachting events, we watched domestic air traffic take off and land, saw a beautiful palace of the former Emperor of Brazil, the Brazilian naval installation and the huge bridge that connects Rio with its neighbor across the bay.

One of the photos below shows the bow of our ship filled with Zodiacs. They are being readied for our trip to the Antarctic. They look very small.
We were having lunch on the pool deck looking out at the endless South Atlantic when small islands came into view and then larger islands and then Sugarloaf Mountain, the statue of Christ the Redeemer on Corcovado Mountain, and then the broad Guanabara Bay. The ship's destination lecturer gave us brilliant commentary as we sailed by the sights on our way to our berth. What a privilege! Sailing into Rio is fabulous. The iconic statue of Christ is 120 feet tall and looked like little more than a bump on the hill as we entered the bay; it grew to dominate our vision as we approached. We will visit it tomorrow.

Tonight we took a sunset cruise on a little catamaran, sailing around the bay. Leaving the marina that was the sight for the Olympic yachting events, we watched domestic air traffic take off and land, saw a beautiful palace of the former Emperor of Brazil, the Brazilian naval installation and the huge bridge that connects Rio with its neighbor across the bay.

One of the photos below shows the bow of our ship filled with Zodiacs. They are being readied for our trip to the Antarctic. They look very small.

Salvador, the former capital of Brazil, thrums with life. The city’s rich mix of black African and native Brazilian cultures underlays the colors and music that fill the streets, but two other factors blew it over the top for us. First, we docked next to a huge MSC cruise ship that disgorged 49 tours of 60 passengers each. Their busses and their folks were overwhelming. Second, we were there on a Sunday and were told that in Salvador, Sundays are very special, that everyone, black and white, old and young, rich and poor, get up early and get dressed up and travel as a family to go to ..... drum roll .... the beach. The beaches are gorgeous, but we were thinking of another word that ends in –ch.

We visited the prominent lighthouse, the craft market, and a monument to a cathedral demolished by the government in order to locate a new tramline. The monument is provocative: a damaged cross toppling into the sea. We traveled there not on a tram but a bus that displayed the sign pictured here. Even those with rudimentary Portuguese can see the difficulty: who gets to decide who is obese???

Our bus took us from the lower city to the upper city; the residents take an elevator, the Lacerda, which whisks them up and down and costs onlypennies. At the top, St. Francis Church awed us, Francis, remember, the one who gave his clothes away to the poor. There we saw amazing gilt ceilings and altars, along with pulpits borne up by full breasted cupids. It was hard to find a place to rest one’s eyes. But then we emerged into a large cloister whose arcade walls were decorated with azulejo tile murals. The ten foot panels depicted the history of the people and the monastery and proclaimed adages to live by.

We imagined the monks walking prayerfully in this space and looked at the maxims that would have inspired them:
Everything obeys money
Diverse is the dominion of money
Money permits everything.

Hot and sticky and tired, we returned to our opulent cruise ship, unavoidably considering the contrasts between our luxury and the poverty around us. We were grateful for a wonderful dinner conversation with friends who are entangled with the same questions. And so we talked of local versus international mission, of giving money versus giving time, of responsibility to use the gifts we are given, of responsibility to rejoice and be thankful. Sorry, we have no answers, but we appreciate the help exploring the questions.

HYMN: There's A Wideness in God's Mercy

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Let us pray. Almighty God, in your tender love for us, you sent your Son to lead us into the way of life. Give us grace to listen to his voice and follow where he leads, that among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely be fixed where true joys are to be found: Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

The Song of Zechariah Luke 1: 68-79

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel;
he has come to his people and set them free.
He has raised up for us a mighty savior,
born of the house of his servant David.
Through his holy prophets he promised of old, that he would save us from our enemies,
from the hands of all who hate us.
He promised to show mercy to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant.
This was the oath he swore to our father Abraham,
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,
Free to worship him without fear,
holy and righteous in his sight all the days of our life.
You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High,
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,
To give his people knowledge of salvation *
by the forgiveness of their sins.
In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

A Reading from the Gospel of Luke

Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. (4:14-22a)

A Reflection The Reverend Hope H. Eakins

Devil's Island looked surprisingly nice to me. Palm tree branches lean out over the water; small pink and purple flowers dot the landscape; friendly people guide you along the coastal path, and there is even a chapel. Oh, you hear about the shark infested waters and the fierce currents; you see the signs on the cliff edge warning you about slippery rocks and the risks of swimming, but walking on the island feels more like a summer hike than a trek to a devil-infested place.

Now we know that Devil’s Island didn’t get its name because it is a dangerous and demonic land, but because of what happened on that land, because more than 70,000 prisoners were sent thousands of miles away from their homes in France and incarcerated on Devil’s Island, with no hope of return.

The country had known slavery long before it became a penal colony. French Guiana was a slave society, where planters imported Africans to work the land. The slaves’ only hope was for freedom, and the Devil’s Island prisoners’ only hope was the same.

Actually, it seems that the prisoners did have one other hope. It is depicted on the front of this order of service and in the little east window in the prisoner-built chapel and in one damaged fresco there. On the frescoed wall, the figure of Mary holding a dead Jesus has almost disappeared, but a water pitcher and a cloth are clearly seen and are clearly there to be used by the mother to wash her dead son. The window over the altar has the same shape as the pitcher, tipped to pour out its contents. What a poignantly desolate symbol of hope this is, hope that someone would care enough to wash the prisoners tenderly after they died.

We are the lucky ones, not transported to Devil’s Island as prisoners but as free tourists. Yet we know that none of us is really free, for there are many kinds of slavery. There is the enslavement of riches, the bondage of addiction, the slavery of power, the craving for reputation. We are bound up by old memories, old shames, old fears, old sins. We are caught in our cravings, constrained by our histories, and when we hear Jesus say: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives to let the oppressed go free,” we have to wonder what on earth, what in heaven Jesus means.

Jesus gives us clues. He says that he will guide our feet into the way of peace if we follow him. Eugene Peterson’s modern colloquial translation of this passage is powerful.

“Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead,” insists Jesus. “You’re not in the driver’s seat—I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you?”
Jesus says that if we would be free of the things that imprison us, we have to let ourselves be imprisoned by him, by his word, his way.
I saw this happen. I can tell you a specific story, a particular story that happened in our time, and it is really the story of everyone who has ever found hope by giving up hope, who has found freedom by becoming a prisoner of Christ. The story is about a man I will call John. John was a very successful businessman. John had smart kids, a great wife, an impressive house, and a lot of pressure to keep it all up. He also had an addiction to alcohol. But John was in charge of his life, so he didn’t get drunk in public - until he did. And then his life started to collapse. John was a churchgoer, but he didn’t really know how to pray, and he wasn’t really sure there was a God, or at least a God who cared about him. But one Sunday morning after a bad Saturday night, John stayed in his pew after the service and he looked at his life, and he knew he wasn’t in charge of it any more. John didn’t want to talk to his wife for fear she would leave him; he didn’t want to talk to his doctor for fear she would reveal his secret; he didn’t want to talk to his friends for fear that they would stop investing their wealth with him. A few tears came to John’s eyes, and as he wiped them away and looked up, the miracle happened. John saw a stained glass window beside him with the prophet Zechariah saying, ‘Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, for he has come to his people and set them free.’ John doesn’t know why he saw it, why he read it, why it meant anything to him, but he knows one thing. He knows that he felt overwhelming fear that he wasn’t free and that he would never be free and that he needed help.

On Tuesday John was at a rehab center where he gave up his pride and gave up his fear and gave up thinking he could get sober through his own efforts. Twenty years later, John works his AA program and knows the truth of Zechariah’s words. “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

There’s more to John’s story; as there is more to every story. But the point of it is simple. There is hope. Jesus promised it: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,” he said, “because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.”

How we come to freedom is different for each of us. Not many lives are radically changed by stained glass windows. But many lives are changed when we stop in our tracks and admit that we are not free, and then listen and look for what God would have us do. It is not easy to let go. It is not easy to start trusting God. It is not easy to sit in silence and hope. But unless we do, we will never be free.

It is not easy to do the work God sets before us, but when we do, life starts to change. Those in thrall to wealth find joy in giving something away. Those who hire publicists to create a false reputation about them find their true worth tutoring inner city kids who would never learn to read without them. Those who don’t have a clue what prayer means discover it by sitting on a rock and getting still.

When John the Baptist was barely a week old, his father, Zechariah, spoke the prophecy we said this morning: ‘Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel, for he has come to his people and set them free.

Zechariah is filled with the hope that accompanies new life. It is hope for all people: Jews and Gentiles, insiders and outsiders, rich and poor, blind and lame, tax collectors and sinners, women and men, old and young, fishermen and farmers. The hope is for the freedom to be God’s beloved children, to use the gifts we are given, to know, really know that the Spirit of God is upon us.

As Zechariah waited, as the prisoners and the slaves on Devil’s Island waited, we all wait for holy freedom. Jesus promises that we will find it when we put our trust in him.

The Prayers

Gracious and loving God, you sent your Son Jesus to come to your people and set them free. Cast your eyes of mercy upon us as we entrust our prayers to you. We pray for your Church; fill it with truth and peace. Where it is in error, direct it; where in anything it is amiss, reform it; where it is right, strengthen it; and in this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, where it is divided, reunite it.
Make us holy and righteous in your sight.

We pray for the leaders of every nation, that they may work together to bring peace to all your people.
Call us to remember your holy covenant.

We pray for those who bear the scars of poverty and emotional desolation, those who live with debilitating pain and anxiety; and those who are imprisoned.
Shine your light upon those who dwell in darkness and heal those who are broken.

We pray for those whom we love, those who have raised us up when we were in need, those who taught us our faith, and those who forgave us when we failed.
In your tender compassion, support and bless them.

We pray for our world, for the lands and seas through which we pass; open our eyes to the beauty of creation.
Make us good stewards of your bountiful gifts.

We pray for ourselves that we may repent of our sins and failings and seek each other’s forgiveness and yours.
Come to your people and set them free.

We pray for those who have entered into eternal rest, remembering Sylvia Leigh, frequent passenger on the Silver Whisper, and for Sylvia’s husband Geoffrey and all who mourn.
Guide our feet into the way of peace.

Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles, "Peace I give to you; my own peace I leave with you:" Give to us the peace and unity of that heavenly City, where with the Father and the Holy Spirit you live and reign, now and for ever. Amen.

The Lord’s Prayer

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us
And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil
For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.

The Blessing

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all
evermore. Amen.

The Dismissal