Like most of the world in the twenty-first century, Zambia is a complex place where generalisations are inevitably inadequate. This is certainly the Third World (or 'Two-Thirds World' as more modern jargon would have it) and there is plenty of evidence of that. At the same time, the copper industry is experiencing a boom with record world copper prices pressing higher; as copper is the essential engine of the Zambian economy the country is doing quite well in relative terms. The mines are reprocessing old tailings using new processes, new mines are opening and copper smelters being built to process the metal. Roads to and within the Copperbelt are being improved. Along the main route to Lusaka, Chinese contractors are working as fast as Africa will allow to install fibre optic cables to improve the still poor communications to the mining area and allow high-speed internet access in the future. Towns like Chingola are doing well out of all this, and are centres of employment that provide a wealth that would otherwise be difficult to obtain in Zambia. The number of vehicles around town, the dress and appearance of the local people and the blossoming of satellite dishes on homes are all testimony to the good times.

No-one could reasonably expect that everyone would benefit, of course. Some people are not going to take part in this kind of economic growth, because it is hard to get a foot on even the first rung of the economic ladder. With unemployment over 90% that is especially true in Zambia. In the towns the poorer areas are visibly much poorer. From a Christian viewpoint, the churches in different areas reflect the economic difference. Chingola's Central Baptist Church, which has  an excellent ministry in English only, is not a great building by any Western standard, but the pastor is quite well looked after (as he should be!) and on Sunday morning the grounds soon fill up with parked vehicles. The sermon is delivered in first-class English that uses a range of vocabulary that would stretch some British congregations. The Scripture exposition is high quality: the pastor has preached in the West and could easily hold down a pastorate anywhere in the world. Accountants, electricians, mine workers of various kinds make up most of the well-dressed congregation. These are people with standards and ambitions that would be recognised anywhere in Europe or North America, although they retain a wonderfully Zambian manner as well. A number of them will have earnings that easily exceed our budget as supported missionaries.

Not very far from central Chingola, there is a district of town called Chiwempala. People here are poor. The Chiwempala Baptist Union Church is well-filled, but there are just a couple of vehicles for all the congregation. This is a vernacular church - the local language is used because the far lower education standards mean that the 'official' language of English is not always well understood. People are not so well-clothed and certainly not so well fed as their central Chingola brothers. The offering is small by any standard not because the people are not faithful but because there is so little money. The pastor gets paid something, but has to be supported by gifts of food as well because the congregation cannot fully financially support him. The exposition of Scripture has to be tuned to African ears and understanding that is more traditional and less knowing of the ways of the developed world. There are not many Bibles, nowhere near enough hymn books. The people here face problems and temptations that are quite different from those that afflict the people of Central Baptist Church. There temptations are common to the human race, of course, but the battle is at a different level in this environment.

There is a third level in Zambia, the rural poor. Even just a few kilometres outside the towns there are mud and thatch huts with no electricity, piped water or waste disposal, children in ragged clothes and a wholly different view of life. These people retain traditional thinking. Unemployment is virtually 100% and living is subsistence level. Witchcraft and animism are dominant and affect even those who become Christians. Indeed, being a serious Christian in this environment is very hard. The tendency is to retain at least some traditional beliefs along with Christianity. English is very little used - in some areas not at all - and to quite a few people practically unknown. One Zambian in conversation referred to this way of life as 'out-country;' as one travels away from the towns and industrial areas, life becomes more and more traditional and less and less touched by the twenty-first century. Communications can be very poor. One might drive to Lusaka in five hours along decent roads. Going 'out-country' might take two days for a similar distance. The educational and medical facilities here are few. Zambians who have managed to get clear of this way of life are not likely want to go back. In one such area, Nabwalya, the first Zambian pastor has only recently gone to serve alongside missionaries. Zambian pastors who have studied at Bible college and attained good education consistently refuse to go to such areas because of the poverty and because most view the witchcraft as a serious and dangerous menace, to be avoided rather than fought. It is useless to compare all this with Europe or North America. Even the contrast with Lusaka is almost too painful.

The need for missionaries in Zambia is something that can be debated, at least when one considers the prosperous areas. African Christianity is alive and well, although grievously affected by the pedlars of the distorted gospel of the health and wealth movement. The exploitation of Africans by the charismatic/pentecostalist movement is also distressing. Africans are easily persuaded by systems that do not even bother to refer to the Bible for authentication, although in that respect they differ little from the adherents of Hillsong and similar movements in the West. You may be offended by the comparison, but it is true enough! Still, there are good churches in Zambia. The Baptist Union is committed to a real evangelical position that puts its namesake in the UK to shame. The number of people claiming to be adherents of the Christian faith in Zambia is over 75%. The President, Levy Mwanawassa, really is a committed believer.

Still, the problems are many. The kind of thinking that questions the need for missionaries in a place like Zambia, coupled with a decline in the support for missions across the Western world, is threatening to turn the real needs in Africa into a spiritual crisis. The myth that revival is sweeping thousands into the kingdom daily is being spread by churches that quite frankly would not know true biblical revival if it bit them in their collective leg! Zambia, like many other countries, needs its missionaries, and that means that giving by Western churches, both financially and in terms of people, has to continue. The spread of the gospel to the poor and needy depends on it. It is realistic to expect the better-off Zambians to do something to support the work, but there is no possibility of their being able to meet the needs unaided.

Maybe there needs to be rethinking on two levels in the West. The first is the most obvious: one message recently told of a church in a very small town in England planning a £2 million rebuild. Now, granted that the church in the UK needs decent facilities, but can that sort of expenditure be justified in the light of the poverty of so many who still need to hear the gospel?

The second level is closely related: does the Apostles Creed mean anything when it says "I believe in . . . . the catholic church, the communion of saints?" That is not intended to be a facetious question, but a reminder that the very essence of the Christian faith is that the Lord is gathering his church from every nation and tribe on earth into one people. Being British, or American or Zambian, is not the issue. When I take the Lord Jesus Christ by faith as my Saviour I no longer look to London, Washington or Lusaka as the place for me. I join Abraham in looking for a city whose builder and maker is God. My earthly loyalties are going to be very short-lived, and I am already called to consider my brothers and sisters in the light of eternity.

From its beginning in the New Testament, the people of the Christian faith knew they were called to consider others of the same faith and meet their needs, across regional and national borders. Paul unashamedly presented the needs of the church in Judah to the gentiles across the Roman world, collected what was given for them and put his own life at risk to deliver the gift. James puts the challenge in terms we can easily understand when he uses the illustration of a rich, well-dressed man visiting the church, at the same time as a poor man, badly dresses. He says that if we treat the rich man well while the poor man is kept down, we have become judges with evil thoughts who dishonour the poor (James 1:27 - 2:6). Africa's poor are not going to come in to most Western churches anytime soon, but it should not mean 'out of sight, out of mind.' They need the gospel, and the exploitation practised by the charismaniacs will not reach most of them. Africa's poor Christians may never be seen by most Westerners until we meet in glory, but they are our needy brothers now. Please pray, and please give.

There is an aspect of living in Zambia that is a great help spiritually, at least to me, having grown up in a very materialistic culture. Here even the frustrations of South Africa are reduced, because rather than living with many Western luxuries but not all one simply has to face the fact that there are practically none. In Zambia there are many things that simply cannot be had because no-one in the country is selling them. My hobby of photography is constrained by the fact that what I have, I have; in addition there are no magazines to tempt me with their adverts for Nikon's latest and greatest. There is no ‘Apple Store’ anywhere to see the latest computer. I cannot get the books I would like because they must be ordered internationally, and the postage will cost as much (sometimes more) than the book. Even something as simple as batteries for my hearing-aid must be got in Lusaka, several hours away by road. So distractions from spiritual life that easily crowd in for so many are much fewer here, and there is more time for the things of God. 
Recently I read in the morning some words from the Puritan prayers in the ‘Valley of Vision,’ where in a prayer speaking of Calvary were these words:

Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy,
cast off that I might be brought in, 
trodden down as and enemy that I might be welcomed as a friend, 
surrendered to hell’s worst that I might attain heaven’s best, 
stripped that I might be clothed . . . . 
[he] wept that all tears might be wiped from my eyes . . . 
bore a thorny crown that I might have a glory-diadem . . . 
closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness. 

Sometimes, to my shame, even here there are sufficient distractions that I easily allow what I read in the morning to slip away. But this day happened to be a holiday. In the evening, when I might have spent some time in entertainment, the fact that the power had already been off for five hours and would not return before I went to bed four hours later kept me to my book by the light of the oil lamp (godly George Herbert’s writings on the country pastor, just as relevant in twent-first century Zambia as in early seventeenth century England) and my thoughts, which kept returning to that morning prayer.
Well then, it is true that less can be more! Much as I miss Wales, friends and family, and many things, I would not have swapped that day for anything. And the next day, the prayer I read seemed to underline what I needed to learn:

May Thy dear Son preserve me from this present evil world, 
so that its smiles never allure, 
nor its frowns terrify, 
nor its vices defile, 
nor its errors delude me. 
May I feel that I am a stranger and pilgrim on earth, 
declaring plainly that I seek a country, 
my title to it becoming daily more clear, 
my meetness for it more perfect, 
my foretastes of it more abundant; 
and whatsoever I do may it be done in the Saviour’s name.

There are times in the Christian life when the Lord can seem far away, and their can be a number of reasons for that. I suppose many Christians would say that one loses one's sense of the presence of the Lord when sin has a hold in our lives, and certainly there is great truth in that. It can happen also when the Lord withdraws the sense of his presence for a season in order to stir us up to greater longing for him. Then there are the times when the Lord seems to draw very near, and that is what it is my joy to write about today.
This is written on the day we arrived at Amano, Tuesday, 10th June, at about 1330. I can truly say that I have never experienced such a closeness to the Lord, so that the days of the journey seem already to blur into one miracle of grace and mercy.
We set out on Saturday (7th June) as planned, leaving Johannesburg at about 0715. The roads were easy at that time, of course, and we were soon entering Mokopane, the place where we were robbed previously. Both Tina and I felt nervous going back, and at about 1000 it was already quite busy. We prayed as we came to the town that all the traffic lights would be green - there are about four sets we had to pass through - and they were.
It was a beautiful day and we really enjoyed the drive, seeing Eland and Impala (types of deer) and warthogs with young. At the South African/Botswana border we passed through very easily, crossing the Limpopo going for the first time to see what Botswana was like. The people there are very relaxed and very kind, and we had a good journey to a hotel in Francistown called 'Diggers Inn' named after a local gold mine founded and run by English people. 'Diggers' was very clean and comfortable, but in African style we were given seven TV controllers to try before the receptionist decided to give up - the problem, she said, was batteries which she didn't have. The promised WiFi internet was also not available because the receptionist didn't know how to issue the password! But that's Africa! We had travelled about 800km (500 miles) without incident, although I was somewhat tired.
The next day we made a good start from Francistown and headed for Kazungula, where a ferry crosses the 400m (a little more than 400 yards) wide Zambezi to take passenger into Zambia.
The road in one particular area of Botswana was very rough, badly potholed, but little did we know this was only a taster of what was to come!
Kazungula was a problem for us in some ways. The journey there was about 500km (312 miles), made a bit longer in time by the potholed sections. We got to the ferry about 1500. We had no idea when the best time to cross would be, and we were prepared to overnight in nearby Kisane if it was not practical to cross that afternoon, although we had some reservations about that as Kisane is very much the tourist town for Botswana's Okavango delta and Chobe river and the prices for accommodation are accordingly high.
But on the other hand we had been warned that crossing the Kazungula ferry could take several hours of queueing, plus we had no idea of the cost. So we decided to drive to the ferry, which meant passing through Botswana customs and immigration, to see what the situation was like. We passed maybe eighty or ninety lorries waiting for the ferry, and joined what seemed a fairly short car queue. The ferry is a double pontoon ferry, and within five minutes we were on board, and ten or twelve minutes later in Zambia! Quite clearly the Lord wanted us to go on!
Zambian immigration and customs are both expensive and tough, as well as long-winded. We had more than an hour of mainly waiting for the papers, but we were admitted quite easily. There was no difficulty, and immigration even accepted South African Rand in payment for our visas - normally US dollars or UK pounds are required but all we had of those had gone in the robbery.
Our next problem was that Zambia had very strictly enforced laws about cars having two warning triangles and also two white reflectors on the front of the car and two red at the rear; these are just pieces of reflective tape but the police routinely fine if you don't have them fitted and don't have the triangles.
That was all very well but there were of course no shops selling these things at Kazungula. Zambian police form regularly manned roadblocks at the entrance to towns and sometimes 'in the middle of nowhere' and we were told we would certainly be stopped at least once and fined the standard 50,000 Kwacha (about £6.25; US$12) on the way to Livingstone.
We drove the 70km (about 45 miles) to Livingstone having asked the Lord to help us, and we were stopped twice. In both cases the officers greeted us, asked where we were coming from, welcomed us to Zambia and waved us on without further question!
So we came to Livingstone, asking the Lord to guide us to somewhere that was clean but not expensive. We really had no idea where to go and having visited Livingstone before knew it could be very expensive. In the town we saw the Ngolide Lodge - it somehow looked right and we called in to see if a room was available. It was, at a typical South African overnight B&B price, and the Lord had given us a clean, comfortable room with air conditioning and all else we could need for about £50 (US$100). We slept really well, had a very pleasant breakfast, and then I took off into town to get the warning triangles, reflective tape and change Rand into Kwacha before the drive up to Lusaka.
We had been warned by an Australian businessman that the road from Livingstone to Lusaka was very poor, much worse than anything we had seen in Botswana. He had driven it in his Mercedes and lost two tyres in the process. A taxi driver told me that while it used to take five hours to Lusaka, now it was seven because of this 65km (40 miles) stretch of road - he said most people took the plane because it was so bad.
Still, I don't think anything prepared us for what we were going to encounter. The road, after all, is the T1, Zambia's primary route and the only way from the major tourist area of Livingstone/Victoria Falls to the capital. It's hard to describe the state of the road as we found it. There were short stretches of perhaps 100m (about 100 yards) where there was tarmac with just a crater-like pothole or two. 


But otherwise there was pothole after pothole, sometimes covering half or two thirds of the road, quite often the whole surface had gone and there was just unsurfaced craters. 'Craters' is not an exaggeration: these monsters were 18 inches or more deep. In most places there was a sandy 'soft shoulder' to the road but because trucks and cars used that rather than the road in places that too was cratered. A few occasions we had no road surface and no way to access the 'soft shoulder' either because the drop off the road was too much for our vehicle or because the 'soft shoulder' was also so battered we could not take it.
We took more than two hours to negotiate that section, but we sustained no damage to tyres or mechanically. How did we do it? We didn't - the Lord took us through, and I am not in the least exaggerating. We constantly prayed and thanked the Lord, and there were a good many times when we had to go through craters because there was no choice. You do that in an ordinary car knowing there will be a sickening crunch at some point, probably as the back end goes through as we were fully laden, but never once did that happen. There were time I knew we could not have negotiated a pothole, but it was as if the car 'somehow' was held above the hole. At times like that you know the Lord is with you.
So we got through that, and continued to head for Lusaka, having no idea where to stay. There were more occasional potholes in surprising places, in the sense that we would be on what seemed to be good road in good repair for several or even tens of kilometres, but then a large pothole would be there. On one occasion we were making good speed and just after climbing a hill and about to go into a left hand bend I just knew I must slow down, that round that bend was something we needed to avoid. And surely again it was the Lord, because as the bend came to straight there was another very large pothole, even though for the last 20 minutes or so we had had good road and been able to go along at 120kph (75mph, the legal limit on most Zambian main routes).
We were constantly, utterly and completely dependent on the Lord, and we knew his presence and he never failed us or left us alone for a minute. That is true of the whole journey, and I do not think I have ever experienced anything quite like it before.
After the drive up from Livingstone we arrived in Lusaka about 1700, in the full flow of evening traffic of course! We had no idea where to go to stay, but felt a peace that the Lord had the right place and we need not worry. The 'Great North Road,' on which we needed to continue the next day, took us through the business district and there were some hotels, but none seemed right. We went slowly forward and in about half-an-hour found ourselves in the twilight on the north side of the city, so we drove on through the suburbs and out into the countryside. It was dark and Zambian signs are rarely lit, so we did begin to wonder if we had gone wrong. But about 30km (19 miles) into the countryside we did see a sign for Protea Hotels and Safari Lodge. For those who don't know, Protea are a South African chain with a hotel in most decent-sized towns, so we pulled in and drove along a dirt road for about 6km - wondering whether we had misunderstood the sign! But eventually we reached the place, and where I had expected a Protea Hotel and a Safari Lodge we found it was the Protea Hotel Safari Lodge. (Yes, the sign by the road did say 'and' but this is Africa!).
The manager on duty was quite happy to offer a room, but at a rate way beyond our budget. So we explained our circumstances and turned to go, but he said that he would give us a night at weekend rate and even did us a 'deal' on food that night. It's a lovely place and it would be great to go back for a special break some time, but the Lord was so gracious to give us such luxury. We slept well, and the next day left for Amano. We stopped in Kitwe for a SIM card for the phone and to fill the tank, and were with Phil and Valerie Grove for a rather late lunch at 1330.
We had help with our unpacking and are already beginning to settle in. This has been long enough - more next time, the Lord willing.
In the meantime, thank you so much for your prayers and kindness in every way. Oh, and by the way, some of you may recall that 'Amano' is a local word for 'wisdom.' In saying 'Amano at last,' I think the only actual wisdom I have arrived at is that the more we mistrust ourselves and trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, the better things are!

A friend emailed today to ask if we were quite safe here in Johannesburg. The reports of violence against immigrants have inevitably made world news; the latest report I have read suggested twenty-two had died and some six thousand have fled the area to date. The violence is against black immigrants from other parts of Africa living in the poorer areas of the city, where black and coloured South Africans see them as a threat to their own opportunities for jobs. Yesterday there was a report of a man burned to death in the violence and a photograph of him obviously in the last moments of his life. The reporter said a local woman could not resist laughing as she described what had happened.

Johannesburg is a city of startling contrasts. It is in (and comprises most of) South Africa's most prosperous province, Gauteng. It has malls to rival anything Europe can offer and the obvious wealth that creates such places. But some areas such as the world-famous Soweto and also Alexandria (where much of the present violence has occurred) are very much a part of the same city. Alexandria has scenes that would not be out of place in much poorer parts of Africa and the everyday life of some people is lived in astounding poverty.

Zoo Lake, Johannesburg

There is a great deal of debate about how such problems can be solved and a high level of concern that they will damage South Africa's promotion as the 'rainbow nation' that is open to all colours and creeds. Many are openly asking where the country is going and making radical suggestions; just today a black man told me that he believed South Africa would be better back under white government. But he went on to say that the people of South Africa needed to consider their position before God and repent and seek him. He is right, of course. Political and economic answers to South Africa's problems may be both helpful and necessary, but at the heart of the difficulties is a nation turning more and more to a secular world-view, promoting 'human rights' of every kind while awash with false religion. The pedlars of false gospel are everywhere, pushing the charismatic extremes and the prosperity lies that delude and inevitably disappoint. Most politicians, especially the president-elect, are a thousand miles away from Christian faith or even an attempt to live by some sort of Judeo-Christian ideal. South Africa needs true revival, an assertion of biblical truth that emphasises the reality of God and the need to live in the light of his Word.

So are we in danger here? Right now there is no sign of the violence spreading outside the areas to which it has so far been confined. Johannesburg is a violent city by any standards, but as in any big city it is possible to live in peace while some areas are in turmoil. The picture of the boats was taken on a Sunday afternoon stroll around zoo lake; in the park round about the lake hundreds of people, black and white, enjoyed the day and were at peace. With such violence so near you may ask how that can be. Johannesburg is in some ways a microcosm of our world; people are getting married, buying and selling, enjoying the pleasures of life, fighting, hating, killing. All this is no real surprise because in a sense we are all doing exactly the same. The Lord Jesus Christ spoke of the days before his second coming by comparing them to the days of Noah before the flood (Luke 17:26-27). Perhaps like us you are blessed to be in a peaceful (or relatively peaceful) place right now. But make no mistake, the day of the return of the Lord Jesus Christ is coming and on that day you will not be asked whether you had decided on the solutions to the world's problems but where you stand in relation to him. Are you ready for that day?