I've begun reading a pre-publication copy of Brian D. McLaren's new book, Everything Must Change: Jesus, Global Crises, and a Revolution of Hope, which is to be released October 2, 2007. I will be writing a review of the book, but this is not it, as I have only read the first few chapters.

I was touched by the ending of the second chapter, “the amahoro flowing between us.” Brian is explaining how his host on a visit to Burundi told him how to properly greet the host's parents:

“Then kiss my mother on one cheek and then the other, several times, and each time, whisper into her ear the word amahoro,” he explained. “The word means peace. She'll be welcoming you into the peace of our home, and you'll be offering your peace to her. After all we've been through, amahoro is a very precious word to us.”
     “Exactly how many times should we do this . . . ?” I asked.
     “We basically do it again and again, until we feel the amahoro flowing between us.”

I understand that amahoro is a word in several different African languages. It appears to convey much more than the absence of conflict, but incorporates the conditions that bring real peace. Amahoro appears to be the equivalent in many African languages to the Hebrew shalom.

When I read this story, I found tears running down my cheeks. It really touched my heart. How much can we learn from this Burundian custom?

What if our first priority with another person was to have the amahoro flowing between us? It isn't just Burundi, but the whole world which desperately needs amahoro flowing between people.

Dear friend, may the amahoro flow between us.

Bill,

I was also touched by this story.

I find hospitality and generosity lacking commodities, even in myself. The intimacy necessary to communicate this type of peace, amahoro or another word I heard recently... namaste... is beyond my understanding. This is really a void in my life.

Thanks for visiting. I'll keep checking over here to see how you are doing.

Peace, Brother!:):)