No Heroes Here

Every year is costly...

2012-01-01T15:39:00.000+05:30

But won't you be ashamed
To count the passing year
At its mere cost, your debt
Inevitably paid?

For every year is costly,
As you know well. Nothing
Is given that is not
Taken, and nothing taken
That was not first a gift.

The gift is balanced by
Its total loss, and yet,
And yet the light breaks in,
Heaven seizing its moments
That are at once its own
And yours. The day ends
And is unending where
The summer tanager,
Warbler, and vireo
Sing as they move among
Illuminated leaves.

~Wendell Berry
From Given: Poems, Sabbaths VI 1998

Borrowed Advent Reflection

2011-12-07T17:19:00.001+05:30

I don't feel up to sharing my own thoughts at the moment. So here are some good ones from a friend:

All is not always calm. All is not always bright. And yet he comes to heal, to pick up our pieces and to love us for who we are and not who we are not.

What Does God Want?

2011-08-06T13:37:00.000+05:30

Recently I've started meeting with a nun for spiritual guidance. And it's been pretty fantastic. We've been talking about many different things - life purpose, expectations, sin, catholicism, prayer.

One of the things she's been encouraging me to do is just to ask God, "What do you want from me?".

I've been asking that question in general (God, what do you want from me in life?) and in specific situations (God, what do you want from me in my last two weeks in this country before I take a 3 month home leave?).

I've got a lot of things I want from me in the next two weeks.

I want to spend some good time with my neighbors so I (and they) feel like I've said a proper goodbye before I leave. I want to spend quality time with my team since I won't be seeing them for a few months. I'll be trying to see all the people I've grown close to and spend a little bit more quality time with them. I'll be trying to make sure I don't forget anything I need to take home, gathering a few small gifts, and getting together enough language study material to last me three months. And I want to try to process my year and a half away and prepare for transitioning to my home culture.

But what does God want from me?

I keep coming back to two things. One is Micah 6:8 - God wants me to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God.

And secondly... I think God is pretty content for me to just be in God's love. I don't think God has a lot in the way of expectations towards me. At least, not the kind that I have towards myself. I carry many expectations for myself (and multiply them every time I see something I think I ought to be doing, or someone doing something I think is worthwhile).

But I think God just loves me how I am, where I am. And that ought to be enough.

Where do you live?

2011-07-15T17:11:00.000+05:30

I really like maps, and charts and statistics. Especially when they deal with things I care about. If you do too you might appreciate this interactive chart from National Geographic.

Turns out I live amongst the world's poorest billion people.

A Few More Things to Share

2011-06-25T16:08:00.000+05:30

In lieu of my own thoughts, here are a few worthwhile things from the web.

A fantastic letter to North American churches from artist Makoto Fujimura.

A new free album from Josh Garrels, which I have been loving recently.

An example of why I love science and think learning news things is so exciting and magical.

Something worth thinking about for anyone interested in charity.

2011-06-18T21:46:00.000+05:30

If we always have a theoretically better substitute available from somebody or someplace else, we will never make the most of anything. - Wendell Berry

Humbly Receiving the Gift

2011-06-14T21:16:00.000+05:30

I didn't sleep well last night. It was hot, humid, and I was sweating. I woke up around 8:30 am, slowly, groggily and feeling guilty. Wishing I was the person I'd heard about in a sermon the day before, getting up daily at 5:30 each morning to spend two hours in prayer, silence and reading the Bible.

I prayed anyways, 3.5 hours later than my "ideal self" would have. As per the advice of my new spiritual director, I asked God, "What do you want from me?".

What did I read immediately after that?

Unless the LORD builds the house,
They labor in vain who build it;
Unless the LORD guards the city,
The watchman keeps awake in vain.
It is vain for you to rise up early,
To retire late,
To eat the bread of painful labors;
For God gives to God's beloved even in his sleep.
[Psalm 127:1-2, emphasis mine]

Is life a test I can excel at by trying harder? Or is my life a gift of love? Do I really believe I am so beloved of God that God gives to me even while I'm sleeping in?

And then I read Luke 18:9-14, the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector praying.

The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: "God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get."

I could probably add: "I get up early and pray more than those other people".

But the tax collector, standing some distance away, was even unwilling to lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast, saying, "God, be merciful to me, the sinner!"

Jesus finishes the story with:

"For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Is this a competition? One I can win by getting up earlier, praying more, trying harder, and being better than "other people"? Or is this a gift I can only receive in humility? Maybe I should just be thankful for the chance to sleep in. Maybe I should just acknowledge my status as an unworthy sinner and ask for mercy.

Maybe I just need to receive God's unfathomable love as nothing but gift.

Even in my sleep.

Needing the Neighbors

2011-06-11T16:55:00.000+05:30

One of the things we talk about when we come here is dependency. The potential for unhealthy dependency as wealthy, educated, white outsiders come with money, time, connections and knowledge and overwhelm the people who live here with our resources. This can easily create a (bad) dynamic in which we hold all the power, all the decision making, all the answers.

We also talk about another kind of dependency. One in which we knowingly and willingly choose to be dependent on our neighbors. We depend on them to teach us the ways of a place where we know next to nothing. We depend on them to teach us how to live in a culture where we're certain to make mistakes. We depend on them to teach us their language, which they can speak effortlessly and fluently.

This kind of dependency can be good. It shows my neighbors that I value them. That I actually need them if I'm going to do life here well. Hopefully it shows them the worth of what they already know and can do. It can even (in some ways) begin to balance out the kind of prestige that gets automatically put on me because of my skin color, my gender, and my country of origin.

The only problem is, it's hard. It's easier (and far more comfortable) to go to the upscale air conditioned grocery store to do my food shopping than to ask my poor neighbors (who can't afford to shop at that place) where to find that one specific ingredient I want in the market. It's easier (and far less confusing) to look up directions online to the place I want to go than it is to try to ask my neighbors and understand their response in my second language. It's easier (and far less awkward and vulnerable) to go to my teammates and expat friends when I need emotional support than it is to share my feelings with my neighbors.

So sometimes a little forced dependency is good. Like when it's 90 degrees and 80% humidity and the ceiling fan breaks at 4am. I can't fix the fan on my own. I don't even have anything tall enough to stand on to see if I might be able to fix the fan on my own. I don't have the number of the right person to call who can fix it. The neighbors had the right number, a stool, and a small fan they loaned me so I wouldn't melt while I waited for the fix-it man. They also had a lot of sympathy and kind words for the loss of sleep.

As much as that was a pretty miserable experience, I'm thankful for the ways it allowed me to truly depend on my neighbors and express my gratitude for their help.

Interuptions

2011-06-09T21:45:00.000+05:30

Today while spending time with the rest of my team, my four year old teammate yelled at my two year old teammate in utter frustration,

AAAHH! YOU'RE INTERRUPTING ME!

I could totally relate. I feel like this a lot. Often with my neighbors who are about half my age. And who like to interrupt my reading/studying/eating/cooking/showering/sleeping with whatever they are doing at the moment.

God, give me grace to know that I am not more important than my neighbors. Help me to remember that what I'm doing right now is not more important than them and their seemingly small or bothersome requests. Help me to stop and show them the attention and love that Jesus seemed to show to all those who interrupted what he was doing.

A View to the Inside

2011-04-23T17:45:00.000+05:30

Sometimes living incarnationally is frustrating. Especially for a "do-er" like me. I like to do things. I like to fix things. To start and finish projects, use my hands, implement. In general getting things done gives me life.

So a lifestyle of "being" can be hard for me. While someday we hope to "do" things here, for this first season in the slum our focus is on learning language and culture and trying to build relationships with our neighbors. We want to be with our neighbors so when we finally do something we can see what it might look like from their perspective. Even better, we'll be able to ask them, since they'll be our friends and hopefully trust us enough to tell us the truth.

But sometimes "being" opens doors that nothing else could.

A couple weeks ago my roommate and I were in our room studying when one of the woman from our building came and stood in our doorway. Uninvited and unannounced, over the course of an hour she poured out her life story. Marriage at 15. Physical, verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of her in-laws for 9 years. Being forced to work long and hard hours and not being fed enough.

Why could she tell us this? Particularly "us", two white men from another country? I think it's because she has hand washed clothes next to me. Because we've shared a cup of tea. Because she has laughed with my roommate at the baby in our building. Because we drink water from the same well, shower in the same place, use the same bathroom, walk the same paths, feel the same heat, get wet with the same rain, and breath the same air.

She can trust us to share some of the worst parts of her life because we've entered her world and we try to be a part of it. From our perspective, we don't do anything very special. We just... live. We're just neighbors. We didn't even really do anything special to encourage her to share with us. But it was a beautiful moment where we could listen to her and value her life and her experience and try to show our support for her.

On that day, "being" was probably the most important thing I could have done.

[This was also a glimpse at the tremendous strength of women here. That's an entirely different blog post, but the women put up with incredible abuse and discrimination and they more often than not come out strong and joyful. Seeing that resilience continues to fill me with hope and respect and thankfulness.]

Exceeding my low expectations

2011-03-21T16:14:00.000+05:30

I got a haircut the other day. I'd been procrastinating. Haircuts here can be awkward and occasionally painful chores, where I submit to a barrage of questions in another language from people I can't see very well (as I'm not wearing my glasses) while I get a mediocre haircut followed by a complimentary post-haircut massage that sometimes includes flicking my eyelids.

And then I found this little place about a 10 minute walk from home where the shop owner did a fairly competent job and we had friendly and less intense conversation than normal. In fact, it was a really lovely conversation, and at the end he said I should come visit his family home in the village sometime. And then he turned down my tip. Turned it down completely.

When was the last time your haircut cost less than 50 cents and you got invited to go to the barber's family home?

Sometimes this place just makes me smile.

Sabbath Unrest

2011-03-15T14:51:00.000+05:30

We make it a point here to take sabbath days once a week. In a place where it's often hard to find rest, quiet, or to really relax, it's important to be intentional about getting the rest we need.

Some folks go to coffee shops, swim, or visit with friends. I usually just go to our team center to hide from the world and disappear into books, music, my journal, and the internet for a day. I need to get my head out of the slum in order to really relax.

Alas, some days you just can't quite really escape.

Last week I had a wonderful sabbath, just relaxing at the team center all day. But then, when it was time to head home to go to bed in the slum, I realized I had a little work I ought to get done. A quick phone call and a couple of emails later, it was already past 10pm. Our outside door gets locked between 10:30 and 11 so I decided I'd hurry.

About two thirds of the way home a couple of women turning out of an alley recognized me and yelled hello.

"Are you coming to the birthday party?"

Oh right, the birthday party. That kid from church. That birthday party which I was definitely not headed towards.

"Come on! We'll show you the way."

So off I go, down some back alleys, twisting and turning into rows of small one and two-room brick houses. Up some stairs to a room full of people I mostly sort of recognize from the church I've been to a few times.

Of course I'll eat some chicken and rice and dessert at 10:30 pm, after I've already eaten dinner (the polite thing to do). Of course I'll sit with you and chat in a foreign language while I just want to be in my bed.

After sticking around long enough to be polite I headed out. Except, now without my kind church-lady guides, I didn't know where I was (despite being all of 5 minutes from my house). After 5 minutes of confused wandering I found my way back to familiar territory and headed home.

Only to be stopped by a kind older gentleman to have a deep conversation about souls and breathe and God and where people came from. At 11:20pm.

Did I mention that people here eat late, stay up late, and generally don't mind that they're keeping you from bed?

I eventually made it home after 11:30, where my roommate unlocked the outside door for me.

All that to say, life here is full and good and planning to have a restful day doesn't always mean I will get one in the end.

On Dating

2011-02-14T09:14:00.001+05:30

I'm in a relationship. The thing is, it's not easy. She often plays hard to get. Other times, she is always coming by when I'd rather she didn't. Then, when I do want to hang out, she's not around. She doesn't call, she doesn't write, and then she expects me to be ready to go out on a whim.

She takes up nearly all my time, my thoughts, and my energy.

I think it's safe to say that nearly all relationships are like that, especially new ones. And so, for this year, I'm sticking to this one relationship. The one with my new community of poor neighbors.

While I'm rather sad I don't get to spend Valentine's Day with my community, I'm pretty excited to be back there in less than two weeks.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone, enjoy yourself and be nice to us single folks, ok?

Why I Should Talk to More Strangers

2011-02-09T18:24:00.000+05:30

Today while exploring Bangkok I passed by a cute little bookstore (with coffee) and thought I should go back there. 5 minutes later I was thinking... why didn't I just stop?

After a couple hours walking around in the afternoon heat (and discovering the most incredibly huge market of fabrics, ribbons, beads, and other fashion 'stuff' ever) I was ready for a break. And decided I might as well retrace my steps and find that little bookstore.

Inside, sipping my iced green tea, a Japanese couple introduced themselves to me. I was discovering that 85% of the selection was in Thai, and while the tea was delicious, and the music was good, the three of us were limited to the English section of the store.

We got to talking and (shocking) we started talking about books. I recommended Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children, which I just finished (wonderful!). He recommended Prabda Yoon, author of his favorite movie and a number of novels, who happens to be Thai.

The owner of the (admittedly small) shop was listening and turns out, she knows him. Like, really knows him. She gets out her cell phone and rings up this guy's favorite author and hands the phone to him. They arranged to meet tomorrow.

In short what was just a random conversation amongst strangers totally made my day. And probably made this guy's whole vacation. He gets to meet his favorite author tomorrow, and that's pretty exciting.

So if you're ever in Bangkok near Khao San Road, just head south a bit and check out Candide Books. I'm planning on heading back there tomorrow to have waffles and coffee for breakfast. Can't help but support small, friendly bookstores that not only recommend books but introduce you to your favorite author now and then.

2010 In Numbers

2010-12-30T10:31:00.000+05:30

6 Countries
7 Trips through customs and immigration
27 Different places I've slept (not counting airplanes and trains)
2,500 Words learned in a new language (just guessing)
10,000+ Pages read (also guessing, but this one is more based on reality)
16,000+ Miles traveled by plane, train, car, boat, tuk-tuk, rickshaw, bicycle, and on foot
3 Times I vomited
10+ Years since I had last vomited
0 Days I've been clean-shaven
1 Car accident
1 Purse snatching witnessed
2 Weddings attended
4 Weddings missed
0 Funerals
0 Days in an office
1 New home in a slum
Countless goodbyes, hellos, friends, tears, hugs, prayers, songs, and cups of tea

The Cure for Christmas Blues

2010-12-26T12:06:00.000+05:30

If you are ever far from home and lonely on Christmas, just visit a Bangladeshi prison. It will quickly cure you (as it did me) of any self pity you might be holding. Especially when the prisoners you visit are in a minority religion, from a minority tribal group, and grew up in a small, poor village. And they are underage, perhaps innocent of anything, and utterly clueless of when their cases might move forward.

While I might be far from those I love and the traditions I know, I've had a lovely Christmas and was able to freely celebrate in many languages with people from around the world. I choose to be here. It was a real blessing to meet, pray with and try to encourage those who don't get to choose. And it was a good reminder of how blessed I am.

Known/Unknown

2010-12-10T10:44:00.003+05:30

A few weeks ago I was having yet another conversation with neighbors about who I am and what I'm doing.

They live maybe 100 meters from our room, and had no idea who we were.

That's ok. There are at least several thousand neighbors living in the 1.5 km stretch of slum on our side of the railroad tracks (it could be a lot more, I'm not at all sure how to estimate how many neighbors we have).

I know that not everyone knows us. But some days it gets a little tiring answering the same questions. What are you doing here? Where are you from? Where are you staying? How much does a plane ticket cost?

Here, in a new place, far from my home and my family and those who know me, it is draining to constantly introduce yourself. It's a challenge to be unknown.

And so I walked away from that conversation feeling a little dejected. How long have I been here? And I'm still at square one?

Then, another few minutes down the path, I heard some kids call out my name from a distance. That simple yell of those familiar syllables was so beautiful to me. It was a reassuring reminder that some people here do know me. That I'm making the long, slow journey towards knowing and being known.

And in that moment I felt deeply that God knows me and knows what I need. And at that moment all I needed was a few kids to know my name.

How, he himself does not know

2010-12-07T16:31:00.000+05:30

There are clear goals. Learning the language. Getting to know my neighbors. Trying to listen to them and their knowledge and wisdom. Gaining an understanding of poverty here. Learning my way through the culture. Making friendships. Finding a healthy and sustainable lifestyle and rhythms of rest, prayer, recreation, and reflection in a slum.

But there isn't much of a clear path.

Neighbors visit. I play cricket. I chat with kids. I learn to make ruti. I study language. I read books. I pray. Neighbors argue and play and work and laugh and go to the hospital and get better and cook and eat and do laundry and chat. Sometimes we get included.

All this is a lot better than pretending I understand poverty or my community or really much of anything. And it's better than plunging ahead like I know what's going on or what should be done.

But it's slow. And it feels totally out of my hands.

And He was saying, "The kingdom of God is like a man who casts seed upon the soil; and he goes to bed at night and gets up by day, and the seed sprouts and grows--how, he himself does not know. The soil produces crops by itself; first the blade, then the head, then the mature grain in the head. But when the crop permits, he immediately puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come." [Mark 4:26-29]

Something is going on down there under the ground. Some days it just doesn't look like much on the surface.

God of the Ambiguous

2010-11-09T14:20:00.000+05:30

When the drunk man comes to the door to tell us of his broken life and his departed wife

You are there in the ambiguous

When the most important thing I will do all day is drink a cup of tea with a neighbor or listen to a child

You remind me that the meek are blessed

When I feel broken, weak, and useless because of the loss of control, prestige, productivity and purpose

You are with me and my need for success

When the neighbors come to pushily ask for money to support a community event based around idol worship and I want to support community but not idol worship

You are not fazed by my frustration and confusion

When we want to love our neighbors by having an open door and also want to show respect to our landlord by respecting her wishes about who is let into her building

You love us despite the labels and boxes we put others in

When I try to live simply and to avoid luxuries my neighbors can’t afford and then write blog entries about it on my fancy laptop

You don't shy away from my inconsistency

When a decidedly poor family shows me more hospitality than I know how to return

You remind me I need to be transformed more than them

When I feel incredibly grateful for and accepted my neighbors who rose together to protect me from an unknown man and simultaneously feel distraught that I didn't show that man more hospitality

You are bigger than all my contradictions

Turning Away Truth

2010-11-07T14:07:00.000+05:30

You followed us.

We kept walking.

You came along anyway.

We tried to ask what you were doing, and without any real answers we prayed for you.

In your meek way, you just kept following us.

Even when we were invited into a neighbor's house for tea, you came along, just like you'd been invited too.

We didn't know you. The neighbors figured out you sleep on the streets and you can't find work. You didn't say much more than that. Just smiled gently and sat with us.

You said your name was something that rhymes with Truth.

And we let our neighbors chase you away so we could eat our pancakes in peace.

God have mercy.

A Borrowed Thought...

2010-10-11T15:18:00.000+05:30

If God is really with us and really for us then the universe is, fundamentally, a safe place to be.

There's nothing to be afraid of here.

No wonder Jesus and the angels seem to be continually saying "do not be afraid".

[From a Dallas Willard quote from a guest speaker at Mars Hill... I think.]

So much to be thankful for

2010-10-08T15:17:00.000+05:30

A room. An 8' by 11' room with a door and a window. A fantastic roommate. A proper squat toilet that we only share with a limited number of people. A well.

Visitors, inquirers, onlookers. Neighbors, guests, friends. Tea. Good conversations. Confusing conversations in which I learn lots of new words. Laughter. Even when it's about my confusion.

Being welcomed into a community. Into people's rooms. Into people's lives.

Learning. Learning when to get water. Where to shower. How to wash out the toilet. Where to buy food, what spices to buy, how to make curry. New names, new faces, new places, new words. How to put the broom the right way so the gods don't get angry. How to find time alone in a crowded place.

Space for a kitchen and plenty of food to eat. Healthy food to eat. Not burning the rice when everyone was watching. Being ok with buying the "wrong" rice.

A day off when I really needed it. Even when I didn't realize how much I needed it.

Easily Crushed

2010-09-24T13:41:00.000+05:30

Trusting people are vulnerable and can be easily crushed, as Jesus was crushed. A community which trusts in God rather than in the righteousness of its "cause" can always be crushed, but from that crushing will come resurrection. There is a hidden strength in being vulnerable, open, and non-violent, in being a people of the resurrection, knowing that we are loved and that God is guiding us, in all our fragility and littleness. We are not an elite. We are people who are poor, but who have been drawn together by God and put their trust in God. That is what a kingdom community is about: a community that knows it has been called by God in all its poverty and weakness, and that God is love.
-Jean Vanier, "From Brokenness To Community"

I'm feeling vulnerable and easily crushable as I prepare to move into a slum in week. Also excited and hopeful for resurrection.

More Interesting Thoughts Than Mine

2010-09-23T07:10:00.000+05:30

Moving twice, setting up a new apartment, meetings, and searching for a home in a slum have kept me from writing for a while. Instead I offer you some pretty excellent things from some other lovely folks' blogs.

My friend in Mongolia asks, “Have I lost my voice? Does that mean I have lost myself?” It's a question I resonate with, in a place where having a real conversation means struggling on both sides against the language barrier.

Justin McRoberts discusses rest and reasserts that “the practice of Sabbath reminds me that I am what I am and that my value will not be established nor will it be shaken according to the work of my hands.”

I’ve been enjoying reading through the ever so honest and challenging reflections of Sarah as she works with women in the sex trade in Kolkata.

My friend Tim digs into Jeremiah, asks some good questions and comes out saying, “What we do know is that as God’s covenant people our hope lies not in a restored America but in God’s Kingdom come to earth.”

Disciples Do What Exactly?

2010-09-12T17:53:00.000+05:30

I’ve been thinking for a while about what it means to follow Jesus as rabbi. We talk about Jesus as Lord and as friend and as comforter a fair bit. But what does it mean to be disciples following a teacher?

A few days ago one of my teammates led a reflection on the story of Jesus raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead and stopping on the way to heal the bleeding woman [Mark 5:21-43]. We all got to act as various people in the story, and I was a disciple.

My main observation was that the story is not about the disciples.
In fact, they don’t really do anything. The only thing they say is basically beside the point. It is common sense from the world’s perspective, but it isn’t part of Jesus’ perspective.

It was a good reminder that following Jesus means the story is not about us. We get to be part of an incredible story, but perhaps our role has more to do with listening, following, and being there than it does with being the center of attention.

What It Takes To Light A Candle

2010-09-10T17:53:00.000+05:30

We’ve decided to light a candle in each of our new homes in the slums as a symbolic act as we begin our efforts to be light to our neighbors.

A few days ago we lit our first candle, as some of our teammates moved into a lovely little room in a slum between some railroad tracks and next to an incredibly dirty drainage canal.

Turning off the fan, we attempted to light a match. The first of the rather cheap matches wouldn’t light. Neither would the second or third. The next lit, but then went out before igniting the candle. Another burned a bit longer but the candle still didn’t catch. We considered giving up but decided it was worth a few more tries.

Finally a match lit and burned long enough to bring flame to the candle as well. We sat there sweating with the fan off to keep it from blowing out the candle. We prayed and sang and asked God to work through us and in spite of us.

And I couldn’t help but think of all those before us who worked hard and gave and suffered and sometimes got burnt before we could light this candle. And I was thankful for their sacrifices and the light they shed before us.

And I couldn’t help but think that if you want a light in a dark place you have to sweat. You have to switch off your fans. You have to give up your comfort.

To Never Say No?

2010-09-03T12:25:00.000+05:30

“Why must we give ourselves fully to God? Because God has given Himself to us. If God who owes nothing to us is ready to impart to us no less than Himself, shall we answer with just a fraction of ourselves? To give ourselves fully to God is a means of receiving God Himself. I for God and God for me. I live for God and give up my own self, and in this way induce God to live for me. Therefore to possess God we must allow Him to possess our soul.”

“Ask Jesus not to allow me to refuse Him anything, however small. I rather die.”
~Mother Teresa

What does it mean for us to never say 'no' to God? Can we actually trust that God does love us and want what is best for us enough to (even preemptively, like Mama T) always say 'yes'?

No Thanks to You, Mr. Crow

2010-08-30T17:38:00.000+05:30

Today we were exploring a slum community (and possible future home?) when a bird pooped on my head.

We were chatting with a few women out washing dishes at the public water pump. One of them nonchalantly held out her water scoop for me to wash off my head and hand. The conversation continued, literally without a pause.

In a place where people occasionally stare at foreigners for getting on the metro, eating in public, or just being a different color than everyone else it's quite refreshing that being pooped on doesn't even elicit a reaction.

Looking for a way to live

2010-08-24T18:52:00.000+05:30

Before I left home I had a nice meal with a couple of friends at a local restaurant. $15 for a burger, fries, and beer. Nothing too fancy. Just really good food and a nice conversation. It couldn’t have been more commonplace or usual in the US.

But here, what does it mean to spend $15 to eat one meal?

Here $15 could buy enough food to feed a family for a month. Kids here are growing up stunted and underdeveloped because of malnutrition.

I couldn’t eat a $15 meal in front of my neighbors without feeling incredibly guilty. Does it really make that much difference when I’m thousands of miles away? Whether I see the hungry kids or not, they are still here.

I don’t have any answers for this. And thankfully, I don’t think Jesus requires us to have it all figured out. But I do think we need to wrestle with these kind of questions.
Jesus doesn’t say “Blessed are the righteous”, ie: those who have it all figured out and only do the right thing. He does say, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled”. God is on the side of those who long for a right way. God is for the people who struggle with the things in this world that aren’t right so much they feel it as much as they feel hunger and thirst.

I don’t think it’s wrong to eat a nice meal, even if it costs $15 (or more) where you are. I’m just hopeful that there’s a way to live in that world that is responsible and respectful and compassionate towards this world.

Because, honestly, they are the same world. Where you live and where I live are the same place. We live on the same planet, breath the same air, eat the same food, drink the same water, and are not so far away or disconnected as we might think. The hungry, dirty, barefoot kids who beg from me at the train station are begging from you too.

And to that I say...

2010-08-16T21:05:00.000+05:30

Listen to Mustn’ts, child, listen to the Don’ts.
Listen to the Shouldn’ts, the Impossibles, the Won’ts.
Listen to the Never Haves, then listen close to me.
Anything can happen, child, Anything can be.

-Shel Silverstein

First Tentative Steps

2010-08-01T20:33:00.000+05:30

It has been a while since I've written an update. In some ways I've been too busy. I also haven't always had good access to internet. But really, I just haven't been sure how to fit any of what has been going on into a nice, neat blog entry.

I'm still not sure.

Life here has been wonderful. Also crazy, tiring, hot, confusing, fun, frustrating, good, lonely, full, interesting, and uncertain. Perhaps mostly uncertain.

We've been spending our days exploring, meeting with different people and organizations, and just learning about the city. Also taking time to discuss and pray and listen and worship together.

I'm looking forward to settling down and finding a community where I can build long-lasting and deep relationships. Looking forward to being in one place and turning my focus to language learning and being a good neighbor.

But for the moment I'm enjoying this season. In a few months it won't make so much sense to travel all over exploring places I may never return to. It won't seem as worth it to spend a whole day tracking down one person just to hear their advice about what we should do and where we should do it. But right now, it's lovely to focus on learning and listening.

I've had lovely chats with people sitting near rail road tracks, drinking cha while I hear about their community. I've seen whole families clustered around trucks unloading garbage into the dump while they fight off pigs and goats and crows for any bits of things they can sell to recyclers. I've ridden trains beyond rice paddies and coconut palms to where jute factories tower over shanty towns out past the edges of the city. I've been invited into people's tiny homes for a cup of sprite and some sweets where I get to ask about their kids and their work and their lives.

We are just beginning and still very much uncertain about what it is we will do here or where we will do it. But it's an uncertainty that's filled with knowing that we are following One bigger than the unknowns. One who knows the tiny back alleys of the slums and loves the people working in the garbage dumps. It's an uncertainty that's not just full of questions about tomorrow. It's also full of hope and anticipation of what is to come and assurance that this is where we are supposed to be today.

Through the Desert of Noise

2010-07-10T16:40:00.000+05:30

Rickshaws toot-tooting their horns to warn pedestrians out of their way and to attract passengers

Speakers at the train station blaring announcements for train arrivals

Squeaking breaks in the metro

Drums and bells as people worship at shrines and temples throughout the city

Auto rickshaws with built in speakers blasting hindi music

Various salespeople hawking their wares on the sidewalks

Crows cawing at each other and at you

Wedding processions with music and firecrackers and dancing in the street

Cars and buses honking furiously in the crawling traffic

This place is loud. Almost all the time. It's certainly never anything like quiet, even late into the night and early in the morning.

I have come to Thee to take Thy touch before I begin my day.
Let Your eyes rest upon my eyes for a while. Let me take to my work the assurance of Your friendship.
Fill my mind to last through the desert of noise.
Let Your blessed sunshine fill the peaks of my thoughts.
And give me strength for those who need me.
Amen

-Morning prayer of Mother Teresa and her co-workers (which seems to be based on a Rabindranath Tagore poem, but I can’t seem to find the real origins).

My mom sent me this prayer on a card that came from my Grandma. I’ve been praying it every morning and it has, nearly every day, come to mind while I’ve been trying to make it through the desert of noise. And, nearly every day, it has helped me to do so.

Time Enough

2010-07-09T08:45:00.002+05:30

The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
- Rabindranath Tagore

Content Just to Be

2010-07-06T13:50:00.000+05:30

I know I haven't blogged since arrival. It's not that there hasn't been a lot going on (there has). And it's not even that there's so much going on it's hard to synthesize into a blog post (though that's also true).

It's more just that I've been really content.

So far we haven't managed to plan anything much more than 24 hours in advance. I'm not sure where I'll be sleeping in a few weeks. I'm not even sure where some of my community mates will be sleeping tonight.

Everyday has been a lot of travel, a lot of new things, a lot of uncertainty. Also a lot of beauty and fun and exploring and excitement.

But in spite of all the craziness, I've been feeling blessed just to be here and peaceful in the midst of the uncertainty.

I'm thankful to sit and drink tea and watch the humanity go by. I'm thankful for just getting to enjoy the colors and conversations and smells and sounds and tastes.

So sorry, but I've just been too content being here to worry about writing blog posts.

Not to Do but to Become

2010-06-25T11:33:00.001+05:30

From a translation of a Jean Vanier's The Broken Body by my friend from Japanese into English:

When we follow the call of God and leave our family, our culture, and our lifestyle, and head to an unknown land as Abraham did, we will find people who are broken, different from us, and will experience a time of loss and suffering.

It is not easy to let go of your security and enter into a different world. Especially when it is full of pain.

That is why there is temptation to avoid confronting that pain, and in order to cover that feeling of loneliness and insecurity, we try to do many things. We try to be useful, to gain good reputations, to feel that we are needed, and we try to self-sacrificially do things.

But it is important to take our time, and to not hurry. There are many different forms of culture shock. So we must be patient and be gentle towards ourselves. We must never forget that rather than having come to do something, we have come to become someone.

Uprooted/Rooted

2010-06-24T01:00:00.005+05:30

One last move. And I am so excited to go.

Of course, it’s not really the last move. I may be sleeping in two or three or even four places in my first week. Hopefully soon I’ll move into a slum with a family for a homestay as a way of diving into the community language and culture.

But the homestay won’t last forever and then it’s on to find a more permanent room or house of my own.

In short, I’ve probably got a lot of moving left to do. But this one feels different as I finally get to go to a place where I am planning to stay. For the time being. Relatively speaking.

My life has been nomadic for a while. The past year was ridiculous. I’ve traveled more miles and slept in more places in the past twelve months than any previous year of my life.

In some ways the story of our faith is the story of movement. Of going. Of exodus and entry. Of exile and return. Of journey. Of being sojourners. Of following a Savior who doesn’t have a place to lay his head.

But in some ways the story is also a story of rootedness. Of finding a home. Of community. Of being in one place long enough to be permanent. Of becoming trees of righteousness planted by deep streams.

For me, the tension between these two is unresolved. I feel the pull to put down roots and be part of one place. I feel the pull to travel and seek and see and experience. I feel the pull to be fully present here long enough to matter. I feel the pull of the many communities and places of which I am already a part. I feel that I am a sojourner and a stranger, in some senses, no matter where I am on this earth. I don’t expect that tension to be resolved.

[My thoughts on this sparked by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and some of his writings which have shown up here and here and in his new book, The Wisdom of Stability which I haven’t read yet, but I'm looking forward to it.]

Into the Unknown with Peace

2010-06-18T15:31:00.000+05:30

I like to plan. I like lists. I like schedules. In ink. I like certainty. I like crossing things off my list.

I've spent the last few weeks trying to find places for us to live in the slums. We've been emailing and calling and strategizing and asking people for their contacts and emailing some more. All to no avail.

But then I realized, when Jesus sends out the 70, he doesn't have them call ahead and make reservations. [It's a pretty bold strategy, just sending them out "as lambs in the midst of wolves" with no money, no bag, and no shoes to find people of peace to stay with. - Luke 10:1-20]

Perhaps I've been too focused on getting things in place for the future and not focused enough on here and now. More certainly I haven't been trusting God to take care of our housing, instead wanting to put my trust in plans that I make.

Here's to trusting and letting go of my need to know what's coming.

A Few Things to Share

2010-06-09T16:23:00.000+05:30

Change is in the air. We’re getting lots and lots more rain. There are flags from many countries (other than Bangladesh) sprouting from houses and cars in preparation for the World Cup. And I’m out of here in two weeks.

A few things worth checking out:

The Secret Powers of Time is a fantastic video about how we don't all perceive time in the same ways.

This should make us all think about how much we own and how privileged we really are.

You Are Not So Smart is a swell blog about self delusion and irrational thinking. If you like Malcolm Gladwell, Radiolab, or Freakonomics this one is for you.

And from Sojo.net, a nice blog post on Mysticism for Mathematicians.

Not Going to be Heroes

2010-06-05T10:20:00.000+05:30

"A community is only being created when its members accept that they are not going to achieve great things, that they are not going to be heroes, but simply live each day with new hope, like children, in wonderment as the sun rises and in thanksgiving as it sets. Community is only being created when they have recognized that the greatness of man is to accept his insignificance, his human condition and his earth, and to thank God for having put in a finite body the seeds of eternity which are visible in small and daily gestures of love and forgiveness. The beauty of man is in this fidelity to the wonder of each day."

— Jean Vanier (Community and Growth)

Too Many Hats

2010-06-01T14:14:00.001+05:30

“Nothing is more clear than that Jesus Christ walked in well-nigh amazing simplicity of life. He was centered in God and had a transparency toward God that ordered everything. Simplicity is part of what it means to be a follower of Christ. To be sure, the cost of simplicity is great, but the cost of duplicity is greater. Duplicity costs the joyful communion with the Divine Centre, faith that sees everything in the light of God’s governance for good, abiding peace, and the ability to walk cheerfully on the face of the earth in the power of the Lord. In short, it costs the abundant life that Jesus said he came to bring. Simplicity may be difficult, but the opposite is immensely more difficult.” - Richard Foster

At our recent retreat we read this piece from Richard Foster about simplicity. I was struck by his thought that the opposite of simplicity is not complexity but duplicity.

I’ve certainly found my life to be more Christ-centered and healthy when I have a unity of purpose. When all the aspects of my life (my time, energy, effort, thought, prayer) are focused I don’t leave nearly as much room for the duplicity of my old self/new self.

When I am wearing many hats, doing many different things, and continually switching roles it is easier for my old self to slip in. I find when I’m wearing many hats I easily conform my image to be what I think others want to see. Switching from hat to hat means changing masks and I (often deceitfully) try to look good to everyone all of the time.

Perhaps the point is that I shouldn’t be wearing different hats at all. I should just be me, all of the time, regardless of what role or roles I am in.

I long for the simplicity of “just” being me, all of the time, as transparently and honestly as I can be.

What I Miss

2010-05-30T12:13:00.002+05:30

When people asked me what I would miss about being home, I always thought of missing out on sharing the positive things with people. Holidays, meals, weddings.

But there are holidays here as well, in fact lots of new ones to learn about and enjoy. And there are still plenty of meals in community and fellowship (though not with all of you). Ok, missing weddings is still lame (congrats to all of you who have gotten married recently or will be soon. Wish I were there to celebrate with you!).

What I didn’t think of was missing out on sharing the hard things. This week it seems like lots of friends at home are struggling. It is just as hard not be there now, when others are having deep difficulties, than it is to miss out on the joys.

So sorry for not being there in person. Wish I were there to give you a hug, share a cup of coffee, cook you a meal, or just listen.

What does love look like here?

2010-05-27T14:23:00.000+05:30

On my way out of our building the cleaning lady stopped me. I thought we were talking (again) about how often she is supposed to clean our place and for how much money.

This was frustrating. We’ve had this conversation before. More than once. Partly because I don’t speak enough Bangla to really communicate clearly. And partly because the very prospect of cleaning for foreigners sparked a competition, bidding war, and then full-fledged argument between this cleaning lady and the woman who occasionally watches the kids in our community. And all because we were wrestling with how simple or appropriate it was for us to have someone else clean our space and then how much we should pay to provide a fair and locally appropriate wage to someone who really needs it. We were trying to figure out what was the best expression of how to live in love here, delayed our decision, and we created a conflict.

So I was frustrated that we were again talking about cleaning.

My frustration shifted, but didn’t really go away, once I realized she wasn’t really asking about that. Her son broke her arm. The doctor wanted a lot of money for surgery. “gorib” she said. Poor. We are poor.

Now I was frustrated for a totally different reason. Frustrated at her poverty. At her being forced to degrade herself into begging from me in the stairwell. At my unwillingness to just give her that much money (for a variety of very good reasons). At my inability to think of anything else to do.

I’m in a coffee shopping drinking a reasonably priced cup of coffee and answering emails. On the way here I passed by two beggars, one in a wheelchair. I didn’t even stop to talk. The price of my coffee could have fed them for a few days probably. But most of it would’ve gone to the person who “owns” the street they beg on and to whom they give a percentage of all they get.

This place certainly adds a lot of ambiguity to the phrase “good news to the poor”. I don’t really want an easy answer to this. I don’t want to feel comfortable about my interactions with beggars, because I don’t want to be comfortable about a world where some people live in opulence and others have to sell their dignity for food.

Free me from these binds Lord
I am choking on the gifts this world gives Jesus
I am waiting on your love
Free me lord to live this life
Believing all I really have is you
I am waiting on your love
-Justin McRoberts

Good News for the Poor (which means not me)

2010-05-22T14:13:00.000+05:30

Really appreciated this from a recent blog post by Scott Bessenecker:

There is a hyper-personalization of our encounter with Christ. He comes with a strictly personal agenda and we respond with worship that rises out of the personal benefits that being in relationship with him brings. But what if his coming kingdom has some apparent disadvantages for me as it did for the rich, young ruler? What if some of the systems of this world are bent toward me in ways that disadvantage others, and he has come to straighten them?

Can I worship Jesus even if his reign causes me to have less money, less status and less power? Can I worship him when his rule will bring the deposing of the powerful and advantaged and the exalting of the powerless, even if I am the powerful and advantaged that get deposed? "He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty," (Luke 1:53) was the song on his mother's lips as she considered the radical reversal of fortune the coming of her son signaled.

As someone who has been advantaged by centuries of slavery, who has had doors opened for no reason other than the fact that I carry the right color passport, as someone who has more in common with those up

Actually, you should probably just go read the rest of it as well.

Who has the tickets?

2010-05-19T13:10:00.000+05:30

I’ve always thought of a stowaway as something out of old adventure stories. So when I recently found myself illegally aboard a river faring vessel, I was a little unsure of what to do. Isn’t this when I’m supposed to go hide between the barrels of salt pork and dried biscuits?

In reality I’d just managed to follow my equally clueless teammates onto a ferry to Dhaka without buying tickets. By virtue of our whiteness we made it the whole way to first class seating without once being challenged for our lack of tickets. Tickets we all wrongly assumed someone else had already purchased on our way on board.

We figured out our mistake only as the boat was pulling away from the dock. No more seats in business, first, or second-class available. No cabins. There was some space on the deck available but, once again due to our skin tone, we scored an upgrade to the bridge, where we hung out with the captain and the crew while they steered the ship.

Moral of the story? Don’t assume someone else has the tickets. Also, I am often frustrated with the privileges that come from my skin color (and the corresponding disadvantages to those who don’t have my skin color) but I shouldn’t complain when it means I get a ride home instead of getting kicked off the ferry.

Cha-wallah Hospitality

2010-05-09T12:16:00.000+05:30

One of my favorite things about being here is stopping for a cup of cha (chai tea). For 10 cents you get a delicious, steaming hot cup of tea and often some good conversation in Bangla.

There are cha-wallahs (tea sellers) on every street. Grabbing cha is, for men anyways, an important part of the daily routine.

We walk by the cha-wallah on the corner of our block nearly every day. Almost from the beginning he’s been calling out “bondhu! kemon achen?” (friend! how are you?). I’ve been stopping rather frequently to get some cha and friendly conversations at his stand.

Last week he invited us to dinner. As most of my interactions are with my teammates, the teachers and students at language school, and bideshis (foreigners) in general, I was pretty excited to go to a Bangladeshi’s house for a meal. Also, he doesn’t speak so much English, so it was sure to be a good opportunity to try to put the Bangla to use.

So on Friday night, three of us hopped on rickshaws along with the Ronni’s (the cha-wallah) Philipino friend JiJi and made our way about 20 minutes south. Then we had a lovely 20-minute walk along a lakeside and through a poorer community to Ronni’s house.

That walk was so refreshing. We live in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Dhaka. It serves our purposes here (focusing on language study and planning) but it leaves me feeling a little disconnected from the poor and the slums. Walking through back alleys filled with children running and playing games, people cooking and doing laundry, and the sights, smells, and sounds of real Bengali life was brilliant.

At the cha-wallah’s apartment we met his family, were served snacks and tea, relaxed on the roof watching the sunset and listening to the call to prayer from several nearby mosques, watched his wedding video (so beautiful), got invited to his village, went back to the roof and watched a thunderstorm roll in (also beautiful), lost power, were served more snacks and then finally a delicious and huge Bengali meal.

All the while we were doing our best to converse in Bangla. I don’t think we did too poorly, but there were definitely a few moments of utter confusion and what one of our teachers likes to calls “bangla bomi” (bangla vomit). Thankfully those were followed by lots and lots of laughter.

All of it – walking through a poor community, talking and laughing in Bangla, and enjoying Bengali hospitality and food – made me incredibly excited again to be moving in to a slum. So much more goodness to come.

Thoughts on Women in Dhaka

2010-04-30T15:19:00.000+05:30

As a westerner in Dhaka, it’s almost impossible not to think about gender. There are very few women in public. A handful in rickshaws, a few in the market, only the poorest working out of necessity. None walking, none stopping for chai on the corner, none talking to men. They must be outnumbered 30 to 1 in public.

It’s not just that there are so many men or so many places for men. All public space is male space. Women are interlopers.

I can’t imagine what it would mean to be a woman here. And I really can’t imagine what it would be like to be a western woman, like my teammates and friends, in this context.

[Let’s not forget that women everywhere are marginalized. Even in the States and other western countries they do not have the same opportunities and they face struggles men often don't see or understand. It’s just more intense here.]

I just read The Upside Down Kingdom by Donald Kraybill. He points out that in first century Palestine a woman’s role was to stay home, care for the house, and raise male heirs. Women couldn’t study, own property, or speak to men in public.

Jesus allowed women to follow him in public. He encouraged Mary who sat to listen to his teaching when Martha was fulfilling her culturally proscribed role. He spoke with and took water from a Samaritan women (who was considered perpetually unclean). He allowed another stigmatized woman to anoint him for burial and praised her generous act. The women faithfully stayed near the cross. And God chose women, whose word wouldn’t count in a court of law, to be the first witnesses to the resurrection.

He reached out to women in radical ways and crossed all kinds of barriers with love. What does it mean to follow Jesus here, in a society in some ways similar to the one he walked in?

[On a related note, and because I like plugging my friends, you can check out the wonderful work of a woman peacemaker in Pakistan in a similar situation by reading the narrative my friend Kaitlin wrote about her life.]

amar protom bangla chul kata (my first bangla haircut)

2010-04-21T13:07:00.000+05:30

Much of my life now is studying Bangla. Practicing conjugations. Memorizing vocabulary. Trying to wrap my tongue around new consonants.

bondhu! kemon achen?

Thankfully my learning isn’t just confined to the classroom or my flashcards. Everywhere I go is a new lesson.

ami bhalo, apni?

Buying vegetables in the market, having a cup of cha on the side of the road, or catching a rickshaw are all chances to practice.

apni Bangla bolte paren?

People are quick to greet us. As bideshis (foreigners) we stand out more than a little.

alpo alpo. ami bangla shikchi.

Today I had my first haircut here. Not only was it a pretty decent haircut for only 100 Taka (about $1.50) I got a free Bangla lesson along with my trim. Not to mention a complimentary head massage. The complimentary eyeball massage was a little odd, but I’ll happily endure that for my head massage.

abar dekha hobe

It's fun to use what I’ve learned and feel like I can communicate. It was also a good reminder of how incredibly much more there is to learn and an encouragement to keep studying.

pore dekha hobe

Not Yet

2010-04-11T16:09:00.000+05:30

In some ways, Easter this year was a bit off for me. Here we go to church on Fridays anyway and, being rather new in the city, we didn’t make it to a service on Sunday.

Since then, it seems there have been many reminders of how much we live in a world that also hasn’t quite made it to the resurrection yet.

The news of a woman at Sari Bari, working her way out of the sex trade, who was murdered this past week was a tragic reminder of how broken our world can be.

One of my teammates nearly broke down at seeing a woman cooking on the sidewalk where she lived, her infant sleeping on the ground a few feet from a busy street.

Hard news from the States for another of my teammates, where one of the girls she was serving ran away from home.

Here, we are constantly reminded of the poverty and brokenness of our world. It is a world that has not yet grasped the possibilities of love or the opportunity of God’s grace.

We also struggle with the “not yet”. We are not yet able to speak the language of those around us. We can’t yet build relationships with the poor, talk to them, or move into their lives. We can’t yet be there for our brothers and sisters grieving at Sari Bari.

Yet, that’s why we’re here, learning the language and preparing to move.

Someday, we hope we are able. Able to join, to listen, to comfort, to be and to do. We just aren’t… yet.

Sentence Fragments

2010-04-04T20:21:00.000+05:30

I’m not sure why, but I don’t seem to have a lot of coherent thoughts to share at this point.

Perhaps it’s because life here isn’t very coherent, at least not yet. Right now it’s a mix of things without too much sense of direction. Often those things are quite different. Here are a few glimpses of my life for the past week.

Rickshaw rides through crowded streets.

Reading a story or playing hide and seek with the two small children on my team.
Stuttering my way through buying groceries in Bangla.

Cooking in the dark while the power is out, again.

Having a lovely lunch and afternoon tea with some super hospitable folks from church, which happens to be on a Friday, not because it’s Good Friday but because church is always on Friday here.

Dodging open sewers, cars, bits of construction materials, and chai-wallahs on the sidewalk.

Enjoying a delicious cup of chai tea (here we say “cha”) from aforementioned chai-wallahs.

Fumbling my way through a response to a beautiful old woman begging for money.
Ordering chicken twice at the same place. Getting two vastly different things in quite different quantities.

Trying to go to the store to buy something, discovering the store is closed because it’s Friday.

Attempting to go to a different store to buy something else, finding that the first place is now open but, being that it’s now Saturday, the new one is closed.

Discovering that apparently most places are also closed on Sunday, but again, not all of them.

Chatting, eating, drinking tea, praying, singing, and generally enjoying life with my teammates all under one roof.

In short, while things may be rather disjointed, I am generally enjoying them and doing well. More coherent thoughts may come along eventually, but for the moment, I am content.

Well, I Could be in Harare

2010-03-29T12:59:00.000+05:30

I made it to Dhaka very early yesterday morning. After collapsing into bed at our guesthouse I woke up to a nice breakfast and a newspaper.

Page two headline: The Worst City in the World

Thankfully, that worst city isn’t Dhaka. It’s actually Harare the capital of Zimbabwe. Dhaka is number two. [The Economist Intelligence Unit]

Of course, you can quibble with their criteria, but however you slice it things aren’t so good here. Getting named second-worst city in the world didn’t even make front-page headlines. Those were taken up by political violence, rolling brownouts with a projected deficit of electricity heading into the summer months, and traffic fatalities. And also the celebrations of Independence Day here, so it’s not all bad (I say as the lights flicker out, again).

Dhaka also claimed the honor of third worst air pollution in the world (depending on who you ask). The traffic is pretty intense, most of the sidewalks are either nonexistent or are open to the sewer drains underneath, and everywhere is crowded.

I've got to admit, after a couple of days, the intensity of it has knocked me a little off center. It's humbling to realize how much stronger my reaction to things can be when I am tired/hot/sweaty/annoyed. I find I don't have a lot of patience when the rickshaw drivers rip us off, and that my frustration from those interactions lasts far longer than it should. I find myself relieved to get back to the guesthouse and some quietness and a fan.

I haven't even been in a slum yet.

It's not really following Jesus if we only stay where we are comfortable and in control. So I'm thanking God for putting me in places where I can recognize my lack of control. Places that make me uncomfortable and make me sweat.

All that to say, I'm excited to be here for the next few months, excited to practice Bangla, and excited to trust God with the intensity of it all. And I am, strangely enough, looking forward to eventually moving into a slum where I will truly be even more in over my head.

Bangkok Photos

2010-03-20T09:49:00.001+05:30

Sorry I haven't gotten any photos up yet. Here are a few from my time in Bangkok.

The Flower Market. So huge it took me 20 minutes to find the flowers.

Loading vegetables at the Flower Market.

I managed to walk right through the heart of the politics protests going on downtown. It was quite a lively and fun atmosphere (almost carnival like). Brilliant.

The Eye Talking to the Hand

2010-03-16T08:00:00.001+05:30

My time in the Philippines has been full of wonderful conversations, new friends, and good reminders.

Sometimes it was chatting global politics with a pastor from Myanmar and students from South Korea and the Philippines.

Sometimes it was just joking and laughing. Or talking about the recent Pacquiao boxing match (hey, if your little country had the best boxer in the world, he would be a national hero there too, ok?).

Sometimes it was sharing our stories and hearing how God reached us in unlikely ways. Even for some of us how God reached us through folks working in what we might consider "the wrong way".

It was a reminder that no one holds a monopoly on the "right" way to do things. That the Spirit will blow where the Spirit will.

Or, as one of our coordinators wisely put it, "we can never confuse ourselves for the Kingdom". We're part of it, and sometimes when we are abiding in Jesus, we might even be doing a pretty decent job at joining in with what God is up to.

But we aren't "the" answer and we don't have it all together. More often, God uses us in spite of our bad attitudes, theology, methods, etc. than because of our good ones.

We can't look down at other people, churches or groups because their attitudes, theology, methods are bad, wrong, not the same as ours. That's not to say that we shouldn't learn from each other and all strive to improve. But the body works because we have a diversity of attitudes, theology, methods, etc.

All that to say, I'm really enjoying learning from and listening to and getting to know our brothers and sisters from all over the globe.

Slicing Potatoes and Other Miscellany

2010-03-03T21:18:00.002+05:30

I've been really enjoying a book of sacred poems from 6 eastern and 6 western poets that was a departure gift from a friend. On top of sharing some random goodness from around the interwebs I thought I'd pass along one of my favorite poems so far:

SLICING POTATOES
~Rabia

It helps,
putting my hands on a pot, on a broom,
in a wash
pail

I
tried painting,
but it was easier to fly slicing
potatoes.

§§§

Now for some random goodness.

If you're interested in learning more about what I'm off to do you should check out The Sound of Worlds Colliding, a newly published collection of stories from people incarnating among the urban poor.

The best 4 year old statistics you've ever seen. And a good illustration that our categories and thinking, especially about economic development and health, are way too narrow.

Justin McRoberts has a new album out (Through Songs I Was First Undone) which I've been enjoying tremendously thanks to my family's very thoughtful gift of iTunes credit (brilliant! Highly recommended gift for travelers and others who are packing light). Appreciating this album of covers both for the music and, as with most of Justin McRobert's work, for all the thought behind the music. Always speaks to my soul.

God of the Weeds

2010-03-02T12:02:00.000+05:30

A 2 hour van trip out of Lima and a 30 minute tricycle (read: motorcycle with sidecar welded on) ride up into the hills outside Tanay leads to a place of peace, rest, and hope. Once you get past the end of the concrete and the electric poles are left behind you can find Joshua and the Lilok eco-retreat center.

It's a pretty new project where they are trying to find ways to live sustainably, grow food and local trees, and provide a space where the urban poor and those who serve among them can reconnect with nature.

I had the privilege of watering tomato plants, carrots, and tiny peppers. I got to use a machete to hack jungle undergrowth away from newly planted trees. I napped in a hammock, enjoyed beautiful sunsets, ate freshly picked spinach, swam in a lovely little creek, and just enjoyed the beauty of our world. I even managed to bake bread without a recipe, and it didn't turn out half bad.

I greatly appreciated the opportunity to share in it all and especially to chat with Joshua about his journey. I'm greatly encouraged that though our focus is on the urban poor, there is a real desire to see that wholistically connected with an understanding and appreciation of nature, agriculture, and food.

The UN tells us that the population of slums is set to grow from 1 billion currently to 2 billion by 2030. I don't pretend to know what to do about that, but I do know that those folks are going to need a lot of food and that the more people find ways to live securely and sustainably in rural areas the fewer will be crowding into already overflowing urban areas looking for work.

I also know that learning to care for plants, seeing green growing things, and eating something you helped to grow is good for the soul. And the more places there are for all of us to do that, the better off we are.

What to Take?

2010-02-09T00:11:00.000+05:30

As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.' Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give. Do not take along any gold or silver or copper in your belts; take no bag for the journey, or extra tunic, or sandals or a staff; for the worker is worth his keep. [Matthew 10:7-10]

I've got a bag. And a few extra tunics. No extra sandals or staff (score). Though I think my credit card probably counts as bringing some gold and silver.

I've got a ways to go before I'm on top of these verses. Still, I think in part Jesus is saying that what we have with us is less important than who we have with us. The whats will always break or wear out. The who is much more reliable. (I think he's probably also saying we don't need any of that stuff if we're really following and trusting. Not there yet.)

I'm feeling pretty ok about having 37.5 pounds of stuff for the next couple of years. It's certainly a step up (down?) from the amount of things I feel I "need" here in the states.

I get on a plane in 5 hours. I'm excited, sad, joyful, ready, unready, overwhelmed, and more things than I can name. I'm incredibly thankful for the love that my family and friends have shown me the past weeks and months.

I'm ready to be done getting ready. And I'm even more ready to be done with goodbyes... I don't think I've got a lot of tears left at this point. But again, I'm thankful that those tears have been as much of joy at where and how God is leading as they are of sorrow for goodbyes. I'll miss all of you I won't be seeing for a while.

at this time of my parting

2010-01-26T20:56:00.002+05:30

at this time of my parting, wish me good luck, my friends!
the sky is flushed with the dawn and my path lies beautiful

ask not what i have with me to take there.
i start on my journey with empty hands and expectant heart.

i shall put on my wedding garland.
mine is not the red-brown dress of the traveler,
and though there are dangers on the way
i have no fear in my mind

the evening star will come out when my voyage is done
and the plaintive notes of the twilight melodies
be struck up from the King's gateway.

~Rabindranath Tagore, from Gitanjali

So what will you do?

2010-01-20T02:53:00.000+05:30

I get this question a lot. And I must admit, it's not my favorite. Not because it isn't a good question. It's perfectly reasonable.

It just isn't the easiest question to answer.

First, we want to be more about being than doing. As followers of Jesus, I think we've frequently lost our calling to be. To sit with, to listen, to understand, to feel with and suffer with. Instead we jump to doing. We are called to be children of God, to abide in Jesus, to be with and for people. While these things lead to action, I think we sometimes lose sight of the fact that they are primarily about identity. About being.

Next, our "doing" starts with listening and learning. We're going to do our best to humbly set aside our thoughts on the best way to do things, our understandings that come from the West, our cultural and personal preferences.

We need to do this because we're moving into a context we don't understand. While we might have some knowledge, we are outsiders, and will miss things that aren't always readily apparent. Important things like the values, concerns, tensions, and dreams of a community. Many before us have confused their culture and their values with the Kingdom. Without listening and becoming friends and neighbors, we will probably do the same.

Often westerners are the ones with the knowledge, the skills, the resources, and the initiative. So we act. We give, teach, build, create, organize, and distribute. And while many of these things are good, they frequently relegate the poor to recipients, passive receivers, or "objects" of our charity.

But loving people doesn't mean just meeting their needs. It means empowering them to meet their own needs, to change their situations, their lives, their communities, and their future.

Another aspect of this is our desire to be "servants" not to do "service". Service is choosing what you want to do, when you want to do it. Service is on our terms. But servants don't choose the terms. Servants serve when and how others choose, even when it's inconvenient. Are we really radically available to our neighbors whenever they might need it?

All of this means what we do will depend a lot on the people and community we join. It will depend on the friendships we build, the hopes and dreams and goals of the community, their resources and problems... and hopefully not so much on us.

So what will we do?

We will listen. We will do our best to learn, to be humble, to be friends, to be neighbors, to be followers of Jesus. To reach out to our neighbors and hopefully empower them. And, God-willing, we will learn, listen, and understand enough to be able to act in ways that are truly loving.

Incarnation: Oscar Muriu

2010-01-03T21:53:00.001+05:30

I could write all day and never explain what I'm doing, what I hope to live into, and my reasons better than this video:

Money and Power: Oscar Muriu from Urbana 09 on Vimeo.

This is Great! (or not)

2009-12-01T23:35:00.000+05:30

On this trip I had an interesting revelation, aided by some words of wisdom from folks who have been serving in India for over a decade and a half.

"We don't love India" they said.

It's hot, dirty, polluted, and filled with bureaucracy and corruption that makes life incredibly difficult. It has soul-crushing poverty. 40% of the more than billion people who live there earn less than $1.25 a day. More than 2 million children under 5 die every year.

That being said, this trip certainly also revealed some of the beauty and vitality. The place is strikingly beautiful and alive. The people are hospitable and friendly, the colors are vibrant, the food is delicious, and the chai overfloweth. There's even a tangible sense of change and potential in the air as India continues to develop at breakneck pace (though not everyone is getting to take part).

Certainly, some people go because they love it. And it is wonderful to find blessings in the places God calls us. But we shouldn't pretend everything is rosy and we love leaving behind family and culture and comfort. That's not the point.

I'm going not because I love India, but because I love God and love people. (Well I'm trying anyways). I'm going to the slums precisely because they are not awesome and no one should have to live without clean water, food, space, love, friendship, education, family, dignity, opportunity, etc.

And we can rejoice in the work God does in us by challenging us to die to our own comfort, security, culture, etc. without romanticizing the lives of the poor. Or romanticizing our own simpler lifestyles either.

All that being said, I can't wait to get back.

[This is tied into some other thoughts about our tendency to want to get over, rationalize, or pretend to appreciate our struggles, losses, and brokenness without really mourning them. But there's not enough space here to cover all that... so it'll have to wait.]

First Hello from K-town

2009-11-09T07:51:00.002+05:30

I don't have a tremendous amount of time for an update, but just wanted to say hello, I made it here safely, and so far things have been wonderful. For which I am very thankful.

The trip was pretty decent, if really long. Here's the highlights:

-Individual touch screen monitors makes a 15 hour flight much easier and seemingly shorter. However, 3 movies in 15 in hours is too many. Not doing that again.
-Good conversations with some fellow passengers, most of whom were heading home to India instead of visiting.
-I had a nine hour layover in Delhi, during which time I managed to ride a bus that broke down, sleep in about 7 different parts of the airport, and have my passport and ticket checked about 27 times.
-Mexican omelet on a domestic Indian flight. Wow. Amazingly, it was pretty good.
-Watching the himalayas in the sunrise on my flight. Incredible.

It's been a fantastic couple of days. We've been seeing some of the city, getting to see a few different ministries here, and meeting some fantastic folks.

Currently up early because the jetlag wouldn't let me sleep, but I'm thankful that I seem to be slightly more awake each day. Today we get to explore some more of the city and go to orientation at Mother Teresa's ministry.

Time for Trusting

2009-11-04T21:34:00.002+05:30

Deuteronomy 1:31 ...and in the wilderness where you saw how the LORD your God carried you, just as a man carries his son, in all the way which you have walked until you came to this place.'
...
33 who goes before you on your way, to seek out a place for you to encamp, in fire by night and cloud by day, to show you the way in which you should go.

About to go get on an airplane to the other hemisphere. Feeling pretty excited, nervous, joyful, unready, and blessed. Prayers appreciated.

Go. Set. Ready.

2009-10-27T21:01:00.001+05:30

Orientation in Vancouver was lovely. Fantastic to spend time in community again, to learn more about what I'll be doing in India, and hang out with a bunch of fantastic folks who are also interested in moving into the margins.

Also, the whole thing was just affirming. I may not have everything figured out yet, but it's good to feel that at least this step is right.

However, that sense of affirmation was tied to another strong feeling.... that I am not at all ready for Kolkata.

Everything I gather points to it being a hard place. Not that I didn't know that. But I kept hearing (and continue to hear) of overwhelming poverty, stifling weather, continuous noise and smells, and oppressing spiritual darkness. I am not ready. I am never going to be ready.

If we wait until we are ready, we are never going to go.

As Mark Batterson has been known to say, we need to switch from "Ready. Set. Go." to "Go. Set. Ready."

God uses the unready. The weak, the meek, the foolish. And God calls us to go, regardless of our readiness. So what are we waiting for?

PS
I did go backpacking in the Olympics. However, I didn't make it to the lovely beach area previously mentioned... as Port Angeles doesn't run any buses on Sunday. Boo. However, I did hitchhike into the mountains and had a pretty fantastic time camping anyways. Yay! Although, it did snow on me, and I picked up a wee bit of a cold.

Orientation Extrapolation

2009-09-26T23:32:00.001+05:30

I'm off to orientation in Vancouver for a couple of weeks, followed by a side trip to visit some fine folks in Victoria and then some backpacking in Olympic National Park.

Looking forward to learning more about what's coming, meeting people who are exploring similar journeys to my own, exploring Vancouver, spending time in community, seeing some old and new friends, and other unforeseen goodness.

Oh yes, and camping here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/daniel_nature/3124429102/

Entrusting Myself to the Updside-Down Gospel

2009-09-17T22:20:00.001+05:30

In case you aren't yet aware, I'm planning on spending the next 3 years living in a slum in India. I'll be living incarnationally with the poor and as much like them as I am able. I'll be trying to become a real neighbor and friend, and trying to do my best to love my neighbors.

I wish there were an easy way to explain this choice. But I'm failing to come up with one, so here's just a few of my thoughts that hopefully will help.

This has been a journey of trying to follow and listen to the Spirit. There have been many questions about poverty and suffering. More than anything, I think this comes from a desire to follow Jesus and his example as best as I can.

Christ's example is one of commitment, of risk, of dangerous engagement. He joined us in our poverty and our suffering. Jesus didn't come down from heaven during the day, heal the sick, teach, etc. and then head back up to heaven at night because we were too dirty, sick, or sinful to stay with. Why should missionaries or development workers retreat to middle class gated communities at night away from those they go to serve?

Maybe these will help:

And the Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. (John 1:14)

The Message says the Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. Jesus joined us. He incarnated.

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich. (2 Corinthians 8:9)

And then he said, "As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world." (John 17:18) So we are sent, somehow, in the same way that Jesus was sent to dwell among us, poor and vulnerable.

I'll be spending the next 3 years or so doing my best to live up to that. I'll be living simply, trying to learn another language and culture, and trying to practice wholistic development and servanthood.

In just over a week I head to Vancouver for orientation, in November I'll be visiting India for a few weeks, and then, God-willing, I'll be heading out early in 2010.

In the mean time I'm in western PA raising support (and I'd love your help if you're interested), preparing, reading, and organizing my life to move to another continent.

We validate hope by showing our neighbors we entrust ourselves to the same upside-down gospel we proclaim. - John Hayes (To whom I owe much for the articulation of this post).

One Step Enough

2009-07-26T03:05:00.001+05:30

Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom
Lead thou me on

The night is dark, and I am far from home
Lead thou me on

Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene--one step enough for me.

John Henry Newman, Hymns

Grace Embrace

2009-07-21T02:48:00.001+05:30

I've recently had a few rather negative experiences with people on the street. In particular, there is one man who occasionally roams around our metro station asking pedestrians for money.

But he doesn't just ask. This guy is insistent. He stops you. And he gives a long, intricate, and rather dubious story. But we're called to "give to the one who asks". So I did. The first time.

Let’s say I was less than impressed when a few months later I got the same story (my suspicions about its truthfulness now heightened) from the same man who didn't recognize me. And let’s just say he wasn't very excited about being called on it.

Then one of my housemates and another coworker had similarly frustrating encounters with the same questionable story from the same guy. They are both white men in their early twenties. So not only do I feel that I'm being taken for a sucker, I get the lovely feeling that I'm being profiled as such.

So a few weeks ago when he approached me on my way to the metro and seemingly didn't recognize me again, I chose to keep walking. He'd just been rejected by another (surprise) white guy, and didn't seem in a particularly good mood. I wasn't in a particularly good mood either. He asked me to stop, and I told him I was in a hurry and kept walking. He walked right along with me. He said some not so pleasant things which I chose to ignore. As I hopped onto the escalator down into the metro he yelled after me, "how can people move to this neighborhood and not expect there to be poor people?”

As I calmed down I began to realize a few things. I'd been really rude. I'd just told someone who needed help that I was in too much of a hurry to even stop and listen to them. What was I in a hurry to get to? Oh right, that would be church.

I spent the rest of my day feeling decidedly unlike Jesus.

So yesterday when a homeless man near Eastern Market started mumbling at me and some friends I was visiting with, I didn't feel particularly excited about the interaction to come. Especially when the mostly incoherent stream of words began to clearly include some profanity. But then, just as he was about to roll over, he said, "I'm hungry".

Now there's something I can deal with. The Spirit must have been moving, because I somehow found a pretty decent sized sandwich for not that much money with no line and I was at Eastern Market on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of tourist season.

When I brought it to the man he slowly stood up, asked me to "come here" and then gave me one fantastic hug.

And I was reminded that there is opportunity for love and hope, even in really challenging situations. And that God gives me grace, even when I am too busy to notice.

Here's hoping that next time I run into my insistent friend near the metro, I'll remember to show some grace to him as well.

Transition

2009-07-11T02:29:00.002+05:30

I know I'm disengaging from a place when I meet new people and think "you're cool, but the time I have left makes friendship seem futile... time to go talk to people I know."

Remembering

2009-06-17T02:49:00.000+05:30

The weekend was harder than I anticipated.

There was lots of rejoicing that Grandma's suffering is over. Lots of joy at seeing the extended family for the first time in a while, and some for the first time in years. Good to play with the cousins' kids. Really good to see old family friends who cared for us when we were little. Many beautiful memories of a loving mother, wife, and grandma and in general a life of hospitality and love. A life well lived.

Still, there was a lot of mourning and sorrow. It's hard to say goodbye to someone you really loved and who loved you. So many good memories. And it was both good and hard to remember Grandpa as well.

As we rejoiced that her battle with Alzheimers is over, it was the first time I really grieved all that the disease took from her. So many of my recent memories of her are just the shadow that was left in the nursing home near the end. It was a blessing to remember her before, and hard to remember the struggle.

Life [and Death] of the Beloved

2009-06-13T01:20:00.000+05:30

We had a fantastic week at the beach. Lovely weather. Beautiful water. Lots of good exercise, reading, relaxing, and hockey games. Alas, it was cut short by a phone call on Thursday morning. Grandma wasn't breathing so well.

I'd just finished reading Henri Nouwen's Life of the Beloved. It's well worth the (short) read. I really appreciated his honest words to a friend, and his willingness to share his personal struggle to grasp that he is truly loved by God. That at our core all of us are chosen and blessed. I'm also intrigued by projects that begin with one intended purpose, and end up fulfilling some other (also good) purpose once they are completed.

Grandma didn't make it to the evening. But I kept remembering that she was beloved all her days. So are we.

And mostly we're just thankful that years of suffering from Alzheimers are over. Off to a funeral in WV for the next few days.

Off for the Sunny Southeast

2009-06-05T02:35:00.000+05:30

Tomorrow begins the family trek to our first vacation in years. Definitely looking forward to it. Thought I would share these thoughts from Justin McRoberts' blog before I head out.

I’m embracing the need for “vacation” to be an exercise in making my life to look exactly the way I want it when I’m not on vacation. That, rather than “letting myself go” or deviating from myself to such a degree that I need time to recover from my vacation, I am purposefully shaping my days to be more conducive to mental, physical, emotional and spiritual health; up a bit earlier, time to exercise, honest/serious conversation, great books, good food…

The thing I am finding holds all this together is stillness. It’s the one thing that I have implemented that I have had to seriously discipline myself for. But it’s been the discipline of silence/stillness that given meaning and life to the rest, the same way Sabbath gives meaning and shape to all other days of the week.

Of course it is far easier to find stillness and silence while on vacation, but as I alluded to earlier, I hope the shape my days are taking now gives me such a taste in my mouth for living well that I’d fight for such things once I’m “back at it.”

I'm not sure how well I'll succeed at this. But I definitely appreciate the perspective of vacation being an exercise in intentional rest and healthy rhythms that ought to be part of life normally. Also, it's just going to be fun to be with the family and lovely to rest.

Holocaust Museum

2009-06-03T02:38:00.001+05:30

Last friday my housemates and I went to the US Holocaust Memorial Museum. The experience is intense, touching, and deeply relevant for today as we live in a world that continues to dehumanize one another, resort to violence, and turn to genocide. It's more than worth your time whenever you are in the District.

In the midst of so much to remember and mourn, I was particularly moved by these words from Bertolt Brecht, the dramatist/poet who was allowed to escape the Holocaust by emigrating to the US because of his artistic skills. What does it mean to be a survivor? Or that we as humanity have "survived" the Holocaust, but seem content to let other genocides happen?

I, the Survivor

I know of course: it’s simply luck

That I’ve survived so many friends. But last night in a dream

I heard those friends say of me: ‘Survival of the fittest’

And I hated myself.

Urban Sharecropping?

2009-06-02T02:34:00.003+05:30

This idea is awesome.

People in the city with backyards that they don't have time, money, or motivation to deal with (like us currently) can share them with people who don't (ie: mostly apartment dwellers).

One story of how it works here.

I still just want to know if Jesus would do it...

2009-05-12T02:32:00.004+05:30

As was pointed out by a friendly commentator, my previous post was in response to an article that misrepresented the views of one of the commentators.

Religion News Service seems to have done a decent job at trying to fix their mistake. Other than not removing the original posting... seriously.

I'm still rather, mmm... underimpressed that the misquoted still feels that waterboarding may not be torture:

I also did not “insist [that] waterboarding is not torture.” On the specific question of waterboarding, I told the reporter that I believe that it is a “close call,” and that reasonable people of good will can disagree about its morality.

Getting a Mess

2009-05-07T20:42:00.002+05:30

As part of my work I read a lot of religion news. An article entitled "Evangelicals seem unfazed by torture. Why?" came across my desk today from Religion News Service.

It's a decent article explaining how evangelicals have been shown to be more in favor of using tortures than the rest of the public. It also includes some pretty sober responses from a diverse set of Christian leaders.

Right in the middle though, is this incredible quote from someone insisting that waterboarding is not torture, and thus it's OK for Christians to support and do.

Labeling certain techniques as torture without doing the hard work of applying consistent moral principles distorts the debate, said Pavlischek, a former Marine lieutenant in Iraq and now director of EPPC's Program to Protect America's Freedom.

Simple slogans don't help, either, he said, because the debate itself is not simple.

"If your first question is 'What would Jesus do?' you get a mess," said Pavlischek. "The reason evangelicals are confused (on torture) is because evangelical leaders are confused."

Yes, trying to ask what Jesus would do does create an incredible mess.

Because, frankly, loving your enemies is messy. It raises all kinds of questions about our safety, our allegiances, and our hope for the future. It forces you to stop labeling your side as good and the other side as evil. It challenges the notion that our motivations, our means, and our ends are pure, and "theirs" are evil. It requires real sacrifice and real risk. It might not even be practical in the least.

Waterboarding our enemies requires making them into an "evil other". They are bad, we are good. They are not worth love, not worth care, not worth redemption. It makes it ok to blur the line between torture, rendition, waterboarding, sleep deprivation, etc.

But if we really think Jesus loves all of humanity, and loves even those people over there enough to die for "them", and clearly commands us to love "them", how can we torture them?

If the assertion is that Evangelicals don't understand the distinction between torture and waterboarding, then "who would Jesus waterboard?" sounds like a perfectly good question to me. ["Who would Jesus deprive of sleep?" or "who would Jesus send to another country so someone else could torture them?" don't sound too bad either.]

Asking "what would Jesus do?", however cliched, seems like the first thing we should be asking about torture. Mess included.

Empty Tombs

2009-04-15T03:05:00.000+05:30

Holy Week seemed to create its own ethos.

We cleaned gross water out of our basement and then washed each others feet.

We fasted on Good Friday and meandered around our neighborhood for four hours remembering the crucifixion and remembering the ways in which our world is broken and full of sorrow. Being hungry and tired only heightened that sensitivity.

Saturday I felt rather lost. In plumbing issues (a basement literally full of filth, but that's another story) and friendship issues and life issues.

And I woke up on Eater, and it wasn't all better. I didn't feel overwhelming peace and joy. And for the first time I was attracted to and even comforted by the disciples mixed reactions to Easter.

Mark 16:8
They went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had gripped them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Matthew 28: 16-17
But the eleven disciples proceeded to Galilee, to the mountain which Jesus had designated. When they saw Him, they worshiped Him; but some were doubtful.

Sometimes it's easy to think that if Jesus were here, we would understand, we would have it figured out, our faith would be strong. But the disciples had Him, lost Him, and had Him again and still couldn't get it. Their reactions were worship, yes, but also fear and inaction and doubt.

They didn't understand (John 20:9) asked the wrong questions (John 21:21) and generally failed to grasp what resurrection might mean.

It's not that I don't rejoice in Easter, or that I don't want to. I just find myself in a world that is still awfully broken and not yet brought to wholeness and peace. Sometimes we're told that we should rejoice as if nothing is wrong, and yet I find myself reacting with confusion, fear, inaction, and doubt.

And it's nice to know that I'm not the only one who doesn't always get it.

Women's History Month

2009-03-14T21:22:00.002+05:30

It's Women's History Month. And accordingly (or possibly just on coincidence, but let's pretend it's on purpose) we've been having great conversations about women's rights, feminism, beauty, and advertising at our house.

Perhaps the most intense of those conversations revolved around the role of cosmetics. Makeup. It seems like a little thing. But what effect is it having on our sisters and daughters that they're told they aren't beautiful without bits of chemicals and mud on their faces? Or that the same people who tell us that we need those bits of chemicals are making money from selling them to us? What resources do we spend to buy them? What does it cost our environment to produce and ship them? I'm a little dubious that the man in the corporate boardroom selling lipstick has the best interest of women in mind.

I'd love your thoughts. I've got some more of my own, but I'll end with the thoughts of others. First, a quote about just how serious the inequality remains. Second, a link to a blog post by Eugene Cho about a sort-of conversation with Rob Bell about women's voices in the church. It's definitely worth a read.

"When women still earn just 78 cents for every dollar men make, when one in four women still experiences domestic violence in their lifetimes, when women are more than half of our population but just 17% of our Congress, when women are 49% of the workforce but only 3% of our fortune 500 CEOs, when these inequalities stubbornly persist in this country in this century then I think we need to ask ourselves some hard question and we need to take a hard look at where were falling short and who were leaving out and what that means for the prosperity and the vitality of our nation." - Obama

Eugene Cho (sort of) talks to Rob Bell about women's voices within the church.

The Previous Week

2009-02-01T00:49:00.000+05:30

I wish I had been blogging all along. The past week was crazy. But then, if I were blogging it, I probably wouldn't have been enjoying it so much. I'll do my best to catch up.

The inauguration was an adventure. Even a really fun and exciting one, despite the early hour when I woke, the broken furnace, the poorly planned crowd control, and the cold.

I couldn't ever settle on one emotion to feel most of the time. Elation at a truly significant moment in the civil rights movement, in our nation's history, and in race relations. Sadness at the continued talk of war. Thankfulness for the end of an era and the change in perception of America abroad. Hope that there will be real change for the good, that America would stop torturing our brothers around the world, that the poor might be given more opportunities and support. A fair amount of wariness at a giant ceremony that looked an awful lot like state worship and frighteningly like empire. Skepticism at how much our system can be changed from the inside by insiders. Or at how much any of this makes a difference to a single mother in Philly, a kid struggling to get an education in New York, a family in the slums of the Philippines.

And a sense of continued call to action. Thankful that the gospel includes this, and always has something to say to racial prejudice, economic injustice, torture, and war. Even more thankful that the gospel is also larger and smaller. That it means that this certainly isn't the answer. And that regardless of who sits in that oval office, we are called to love our sisters and brothers and enemies with the all encompassing reckless abandon of God.

Frozen Pipe Dreams

2009-01-18T01:17:00.005+05:30

The next couple of weeks are going to be a little crazy.

A party and a movie last night and some frozen water pipes and I'm already tired. And maybe getting sick. I got up in the middle of the night to check if the pipes had burst and the basement was flooding. Probably that was just me being paranoid. But it led to fitful sleeping and me waking up feeling decidedly less healthy than the night before.

Tonight we have a formal inaugural ball. Tomorrow is the AFC Championship game and a potluck at our house.

No work on Monday or Tuesday and a couple extra million people coming in to town to see the inauguration. It's going to be cold, crowded, and crazy. And I probably won't be able to see much of anything, but I'll be taking the camera to document the craziness, since I certainly won't be able to document the ceremony.

Three days of work, the season premiere of Lost, and then I'm flying to Miami for a half marathon with my sister. Here's hoping I survive 13.1 miles in heat and humidity I haven't seen in months.

Kelly and I will be running as part of "Team World Vision"... and if you're feeling inspired, you can sponsor us (and support the livelihood and health of people in the 2/3rds world) here:

http://www.firstgiving.com/khiser

I'll check back in a couple of weeks just so you all know I've survived the craziness. If I survive the craziness that is.

2009 in Preview

2009-01-06T04:35:00.000+05:30

Things I'm looking forward to in 2009

Seven and a half more months with my housemates. I'm not sure I'm as excited for seven and a half more months of working in an office. But I have enjoyed the journey with these folks so far... and looking forward to it continuing.

Running a half marathon. Less than three weeks away now. It will be good to go to Miami and hang out with Kelly. I've wanted to run another race since my first one 2 years ago now. And it's been great incentive to stay in shape. Ditto for the Cherry Blossom Race here in April.

The fantastic stack of books I got for Christmas. Already polished off Outliers by Malcom Gladwell and moving on to Unveiling Empire.

A new season of Lost. Yup.

Being in Washington DC a little longer. I have not taken advantage of exploring this city enough yet. I'll be doing that more in the coming months. Also, it will be fun to be around for the first 100 days of an Obama administration.

Figuring out a next step. Who knows where I may be in a year? Next New Years might look a lot different.

Another roadtrip. This time hopefully to New England and Canada. Though we probably won't have as much time, we'll have the wisdom of our last adventure.

Family vacation. The first real one in years. Woot!

Getting rid of some more stuff. I managed to do so a little over break. If I'm leaving the country I'd like to take with me what I can carry and leave behind as little as possible.

Reading more. Yes, I should that.

Writing more. Ditto. The blog might get more frequent updates. Hopefully.

Contemplating more. Learning to be, to listen, to be intentional. To think before I speak. To pursue love and grace as a way of living.

Continuing the journey.

2008 in Review

2009-01-05T02:52:00.001+05:30

A new year is here. I feel like they always sneak up on me. Clearly, as I'm writing abut New Years on the 4th. I'll probably still be writing 2008 on invoices until March. Nonetheless, I enjoy the transition. Both an opportunity for reflection and a fresh start. A chance to leave things behind and pick up new ones.

Yes, the Top 10 lists become overused. Yes, resolutions get ignored. But when else does our society pause to look back at where we've been or take a moment to consider how we could do better?

Thus, a look back at 2008 and (at a later, but hopefully not much later, date) a look forward to 2009.

2008 in numbers (you're just going to have to deal with my approximations)

0 - College classes taken.

1 - College degree earned.

Countless - Number of goodbyes I had to make while leaving PSU.

2 - Trips to Peru to work on the orphanage.

1 - Time I accidently got through Miami customs without being searched.

13 - Friends I got to spend a week in the outer banks with.

16 - National Parks visited on my amazing roadtrip with my sister.

9,000+ - Miles driven on aforementioned roadtrip.

6 - New wheel bearings for my poor car.

1 - New engine for aforementioned car.

8 - Kiva loans.

7 - New housemates, community members, and friends.

13 - Mice killed in DC.

120 - Nights slept in DC without a bed.

4,000+ - Photos taken.

1 - Wedding.

0 - Funerals.

6,307,200 - Breaths taken.

36,792,000 - Heartbeats.

Dozens - Books read, movies watched.

Hundreds - Conversations had, memories made, good times experienced.

PS
Looking back over the blog for reminders about the year was fantastic. Nothing like some good reflection. I highly recommend it. (Looking back over your blog/diary/journal/photos that is... though I suppose if you're a creepy stalker you can look over mine too).

Christmas Anticipation

2008-12-26T08:37:00.003+05:30

The past few years I've had a love/hate relationship with Christmas. It's not something I consciously did, it just crept in, slowly stealing the joy from what used to be a favorite time of year.

I guess as I became more aware of a world that is broken and filled with hungry and oppressed people, it became harder to enjoy some of the exorbitance associated with Christmas. I started to become more and more against the materialism, secularization, santafication, tinsel, lights, movies, and general fakeness of a holiday that's supposed to be about Jesus. My attitude became "why give gifts we don't need and stuff our faces with food while other people starve?"

In all of the things I was against, I forgot what I was supposed to be for.

This year, I began to remember. And I was helped by being in churches, at an organization, and in a community that intentionally connected advent with anticipation for Jesus' coming. For once, I put some serious thought into what it means to anticipate Christ, both His birth and when He will come again to bring peace to earth.

And today was the end of that anticipation! And in some ways that I don't really understand, I've been able to really enjoy today as some small piece of what the coming of the kingdom is about. Gifts are a sign of love. Time together is about community. Feasting on delicious food is celebration. In that mysterious way that Christ is both here and not yet here, today there was joy and justice and wholeness and peace. And there will be, too.

Found

2008-12-13T23:50:00.002+05:30

Life has been busy around here. Too busy for blogging. Also, not having internet at the house means less opportunities to do so. But more opportunities for conversation, reading, and rest, which is more appreciated. Some good things I've found recently:

The Beehive Collective

We met some of these people giving a presentation at SOAW. And they were pretty awesome. People living in intentional community in Maine using art to teach and speak about justice. They seem pretty intense (in a good way). You may not agree with all of their positions, but you've got to respect their intentionality and creativity in speaking redemption into the world.
www.beehivecollective.org

Tokens Radio Show

Perhaps avoiding easy definition, but it's an old school style radio program complete with fantastic music, little bits of drama and comedy, and some stellar interviews on theology, culture, politics, life, etc.

A really good article on the front page of the Washington Post today about the status of women in the developing world (specifically India). Definitely worth a read.

"My brothers, they will study. They can hope for different things," she said. "What can I be?"

Presente!

2008-11-25T01:36:00.003+05:30

Just got back from a whirlwind adventure with my housemates to Columbus, Georgia and back to protest the School of the Americas.

For those who don't know (and don't feel bad, I certainly didn't), the School of the Americas is an American military training school run out of Fort Benning that trains soldiers from South and Latin American countries in combat, counter-insurgency, and counter-narcotics. Graduates of the school have been involved in almost every major human rights abuse in South America, from the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero to the massacre of over 800 civilians at El Mozote to the murder of 6 Jesuit priests, their housekeeper and her daughter in San Salvador, and countless others with thousands of victims. Training manuals from the school revealed that teachers were advocating and teaching torture, extortion, and execution. More info can be found at www.soaw.org

Being my first protest, I was pretty uncertain of what I would find. What I found was something strikingly like the Kingdom in action.

20,000 people coming together to stand up against abuse and torture in nonviolent solidarity with our brothers and sisters around the world was enough to move me to tears at one point. Parts of the weekend were deeply touching, like reading the names of known victims one at a time and all responding together "presente". Others were joy-filled, like watching the puppetistas enacting the end of the SOA. And in general, just hanging out with a crowd of 20-something hippies, hipsters, and college students, 60+ vietnam protesters, catholic nuns, buddhists, and peace-loving veterans who were all getting along and standing up for justice was pretty refreshing.

Here's for trying to continually remain 'presente' with our brothers and sisters around the world.

Great Cloud of Witnesses

2008-11-03T08:15:00.002+05:30

There's been more going on than I've felt able to comment about. Suffice to say, the past several weeks have been rough, but have made me increasingly grateful for my community.

In other news, the episcopal church I've been attending had an All Saints Day service today. And it was sweet. It's good to be reminded that we stand along with Mother Theresa and Oscar Romero and Martin Luther and Martin Luther King Jr and Calvin and Wesley and Francis of Assisi and countless others.

Continually encouraged that everyone in Christ is a saint. That doesn't mean being just like them (see above), but it does mean that we're all called to holiness and discipleship and dying daily. And it means that if they could do it, we can do it too.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Sowing

2008-10-19T03:38:00.002+05:30

Psalm 126:5-6
Those who sow in tears
will reap with songs of joy.
He who goes out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with him.

Praying for a day when tears get wiped away and new names are given by one who loves more deeply than I understand. That day seems far off this weekend.

Learning How To Die

2008-10-15T08:17:00.002+05:30

All along I thought
I was learning how to take
How to bend not how to break
How to live not how to cry
But really
I've been learning how to die
I've been learning how to die
-Jon Foreman

It was a good weekend. It's been a good week so far. I've been enjoying fall weather. Enjoying my community. And I've been enjoying a ridiculous amount of good music while I work. Like that song up there. I've been learning how to die.

Pieces of Peace

2008-10-13T01:05:00.002+05:30

"The job of the peacemaker is to stop war, to purify the world, to get it saved from poverty and riches, to heal the sick, to comfort the sad, to wake up those who have not yet found God, to create joy and beauty wherever you go, and to find God in everything and in everyone."
-Muriel Lester

I thought this was an appropriate quote for the 10 year anniversary of the death of Matthew Sheppard in Laramie Wyoming.

At church this morning we prayed that there would be healing and reconciliation and love in the face of such terrible hate. I hope I can be part of that. I hope the church can be part of that. And I repent and grieve that the church has more often been the source of that hate instead of love.

False Dichotomy

2008-10-12T01:53:00.002+05:30

I get to read a ridiculous amount of commentary on the news while I work. I've really been meaning to pass some things along, but alas, it's been a really busy week. So busy that several times I haven't had a moment to sit still, let alone update this thing. Now that it's Saturday, here's something worth reading:

Every week the Dallas Morning News asks its readers one question on faith. This was their question this past week:

Under what conditions, if any, is it acceptable for someone to vote for a presidential candidate whose social policies the voter finds morally objectionable, but whose economic policies that person favors?

There were many responses, but I thought the one from Cynthia Rigby, a professor from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, was particularly insightful:

A false dichotomy is being assumed in the question. Economic policies are social policies, insofar as they have undeniable social impact. Further: privileging "economic policies" over "social policies" is not equivalent to privileging "Mammon" over "God," as the question implies. Avoiding such simplistic categorizations is especially important in our current political and financial clime, where people of faith who are looking seriously at candidates' economic policies have reason to worry about paying for food, gasoline, medical care, and education. The moral ideal that drives our evaluation of economic policies is that the bread, shelter, and education necessary for human flourishing be both cherished as God's blessing and relentlessly pursued as consistent with the self-evident truths upheld by our Constitution.

In 1990, I spent a year living in the Philippines. I remember meeting a bishop of the United Church of Christ in Mindanao. I asked him what I believed was a pressing question of our day: "What is your position on homosexuality?" He paused for a moment, looked me directly in the eye, and answered: "When there are no more hungry stomachs in my country, then I will worry about homosexuality."

Social policies? Moral ideals? We must cease divorcing them from economic realities. We must stop thinking of the spiritual as something separate from the physical, recognizing that the money necessary for life is not something religious people should be "neutral" about (as though it is more God-like, somehow, to move beyond such thinking). Jesus himself stops his lecture in order to feed the 5,000. Christian believers, every day, demand that God make good on God's promise to "give us this day our daily bread." Bread matters because life matters. People of faith had better take economic policies into serious consideration because they believe God is, first and foremost, a God of stomach-filling, body-healing, debt-forgiving life.

Lots of other good responses can be found here.

Take That Wall Street

2008-09-30T07:29:00.003+05:30

This week has been full of economic craziness. Too much greed, not enough regulation, lots of bad decisions and things fall apart.

Again, I'm struck by how much simplicity/love/faith/community frees you from fear. Something tells me that Jesus didn't own stocks. The first hungry person he saw and they'd be traded for food. Then again, it doesn't seem that he owned much of anything. And Jesus wouldn't be affected by the potential collapse of the market.

I too have been enjoying the comfort of knowing that I don't own stocks or crazy securities with bits of people's overstretched mortgages. And the security of knowing that I can survive with my fellow interns on not very much money. Yes, if the economy collapses we'll all have problems. But I have the even greater security of knowing that my daily bread comes from God (or at least I'm working on trusting Him for it) and I will be cared for better than sparrows even if we have ourselves a good ole' fashioned depression.

Beyond that, I'm pretty excited for my forays into the freeconomy. This evening I pedaled about 7 blocks on the shared bike of a housemate (free!) and picked up a comforter from someone on freecycle (really free!) to furnish our guest room so friends and family can stay here (again, for free!). That's right, someone didn't need it anymore and instead of adding to the landfills, it's now going to keep our guests warm. Take that Wall Street.

Windows into the Possible

2008-09-22T05:00:00.003+05:30

On Friday evening we went to the National Endowment for the Arts - National Heritage Fellowships. And it was amazing.

Apparently they give grants to artists perpetuating their particularl brand of folk art and all the winners come to DC and show off their skills on the same stage.

The variety was stunning. From traditional Korean dancing/drumming to saddle making to Ethiopian Orthodox liturgical chanting to Native American drum making to capoeira to retablo making to Native American choir singing to bluegrass to quilting.

It was all pretty random with occasionally odd segues. But all were impressively skilled at their respective craft. And then the final act was an incredible New Orleans jazz band.

They were wonderful. And once they'd finished, they called out all the fellowship winners... and then played "When the Saints Go Marching In" and everyone danced. Teenagers from Queens dancing with middle-aged Oneida women from Wisconsin dancing with a little Peruvian guy who now lives in Utah dancing with Korean women. It was joyous. Literally full of joy. I was bouncing off the walls after. Ahh... glimpses of what could/should be.

It also was a wonderful start to a wonderful weekend. Chilling with friends. Helping a local middle school put together their library. Going to a party. Gospel mass. A really nice long run. Goodness all around.

Week One Overview

2008-09-12T04:12:00.003+05:30

I apologize for not having posted sooner. I’ve had tons of things to write about and I’ve been learning like crazy, but when you spend 8 hours a day working on the computer it’s hard to want to spend more time blogging at home.

Work has been pretty decent so far. My first day I even got to accompany Jim Wallis himself to an interview on Capitol Hill with NPR. Craziness. Since then it’s mostly been working on the computer, sending emails, compiling press lists, archiving new coverage, etc. My body and mind are still adjusting to 8 hours in the office, but I’m learning at breakneck pace.

It’s almost as if my job is learning. Half of that is just that I’m learning my way around some new computer systems, working the phones, filling out payment orders, etc. But I read pretty much any and every news story at all pertaining to faith and politics or poverty or social justice. It’s quite excellent.

Living at the house continues to be wonderful. Morning prayer. Staying up making waaaay too much humus. Eating really good, fairly cheap, fairly health, mostly meat-free food. Playing outburst. Singing. Having really intense, honest theological/spiritual/political/life conversations. Exploring the city. Laughing.

Yup. Life is good.

Kind of like the co-op... only with Christian social justice interns.

2008-09-04T06:44:00.002+05:30

I'm here! Yesterday I successfully moved into the intern house. It's gorgeous, and quite large, as the 8 of us really don't use the basement at all. So far we've mostly been eating and talking and tentatively getting to know one another, but everyone seems quite spectacular at this point. [Key word being 'seems'... you know at least one of them has to be a secret spy or something].

My roommate is a lovely scottish chap named Joey. We don't have bed frames yet due to a slight mix up involving packing the tools before disassembling them at the old house. So... we're supposed to get bed frames sometime before too long. Instead of setting up our room we've been rocking out on the guitars and enjoying the wonderful roof we access to through our window.

In general, life is great. More updates will come as work actually starts, I get to know the housemates better, and we ease up enough on trying to be super nice and get down to really living together.

Godwin's Law

2008-09-01T02:24:00.000+05:30

In 2 days I'll be in DC moving into the intern house with 7 strangers who will soon be my coworkers, housemates, and *gasp* friends. It's just funny to think that in a month or so there will be a routine, a "normal". And right now I don't have a clue what that will look like or who the people are that will populate it. Strange.

Nonetheless, I'm really excited to get down there. Those unknown strangers sound pretty awesome. And I've got that wonderful 'new adventures, new places, new people, and fun lessons that are awesome but perhaps not comfortable at the time are on the horizon' feeling. It's been a stellar summer (hard to beat a week on the beach with some amazing friends, a month in Peru, and a month on the road), but I'm ready to be more productive. Ready to get out of suburbia. Ready to join back into community life.

The past week has been a funventure of visiting friends in the rest of PA (after traveling the breadth of the country I thought I'd have a slightly smaller goal this time). And it was quite excellent. Even if some of my friends managed to throw a stupendous dinner-party-reminiscence for me without actually inviting me. The excellence only continued with the fact that getting home was immediately met with more good catching up opportunities.

I'm really excited for DC. But I'm really going to miss everyone else as well. Come visit me?

(ok this post has nothing to do with Godwin's law... but I still think it's kind of entertaining)

Wordle

2008-08-17T00:36:00.002+05:30

Try it. It makes "word clouds" from any text you give it. Doing it with your blog is quite entertaining (though it heavily favors recent posts). Check out the Sermon on the Mount:

http://wordle.net/

The Dark Knight

2008-08-16T06:25:00.000+05:30

As previously noted, I saw Batman: The Dark Knight weeks ago. And loved it. Mostly. By now, most of you have probably seen it as well. If you haven't seen it yet, you may not want to continue (spoilers ahead).

As has been said a hundred times over, the movie is excellent. The opening bank heist is cleverly fun and sets the stage for an impressive performance by Heath Ledger as The Joker. He managed to portray a disturbingly evil Joker without (thankfully) gratuitous blood and gore.

The plot is good, moves well, and is even at times unexpected (didn't anticipate Harvey Dent claiming to be Batman). There is humor, but mostly suspense. And the action is both impressive and fun (as any comic-book-cum-movie ought to be).

They even managed to bring to light one of the great contradictions of Batman; if it weren't for the Batman, there would not be (in fact, could not be) the Joker (or many other of Gotham's villains). Without the threat posed by Batman, the established crime syndicates in the city would not have allowed the rise of a psychopath like the Joker. So in some way, Batman is, or at least sees himself as, responsible for the creation of the Joker.

Regardless of all this goodness, I left a little disappointed. Why did Batman and Gordon decide to blame Harvey Dent's murders on Batman?

I'm disturbed because the message behind that choice is, at the least, contradictory to what the movie had seemed to be saying up to that point. And more, because the new message is just false.

At one point late in the movie the Joker had rigged two ferries with explosives, one full of ordinary people, the other full of convicted felons. And, in typical Joker fashion, given each group the detonator to the other boat telling them they had 15 minutes to blow the other up or both would be destroyed. In one of the most emotional scenes of the movie, both groups decide not to blow up the other ferry. It's a brilliant affirmation of self-sacrifice and the ability of people to make incredibly difficult moral choices for good.

Then we find ourselves facing Harvey Dent now Two-Face holding the family of Police Commissioner Gordon hostage. Harvey Dent, the once shining hero and white knight of Gotham, the DA responsible for bringing down some of the city's most notorious criminals now driven insane by the loss of his loved one, points a gun at a child.

Batman (of course) saves the day. In doing so, Dent dies. But instead of revealing the truth, Gordon and Batman agree that what the city needs is not truth, but a hero. A martyr. An icon. So they cover up the murders Dent has committed and blame Batman who ends the movie running from the police.

So the movie turns from saying "people can handle very hard decisions and make good choices" to "people cannot handle the truth, they need a good looking lie to inspire them to good". I just don't get it. Where has the value of the truth gone?

The writers/producers even wink at this, as Gordon's son distraughtly asserts "But the Batman didn't do anything wrong!".

It's also disturbing on the level that it indicates that the public is incapable of understanding people who are both good and evil. All of us know it's simplistic to say that a person is "good" or "evil". The line between good and evil doesn't run in between people. Batman is not just good or just bad. Neither is Harvey Dent. Neither is Gordon. Neither are you. Neither am I.

And Batman believes that. In fact, needs to believe it. Everyone else is convinced the Joker is just evil. Even the Joker. But Batman must hold on to the belief that the line between good and evil is inside people, and thus there must be some good in even the Joker and he cannot intentionally let him die. For Batman knows that if the line between good and evil runs between people, that he has done enough violence to fall on the wrong side of that line. He needs to believe it for the sake of his own soul.

Pretending Harvey Dent was just good is a lie. All they've given Gotham is a fake, dead hero, when they could have had a real (if darker) one. And all they've given us is a mixed message that image is more important than truth.

Roadtrip Recap

2008-08-09T22:53:00.001+05:30

We're safely back in PA, and I've procrastinated from blogging for long enough.

The roadtrip was amazing. Seriously an incredible time of leaving obligations, communication, and showers behind. I wish I could cover it all here, but I can't, so why try? A few fun highlights:

- Glacier. Perhaps the most beautiful place in America. Pristine. Get there before the glaciers disappear (ie: soon).

- Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Not only is the name awesome, but it's a 2,000 ft. sheer canyon of black rocks down to a sweet river (the River of the Gunnison, that is). And hardly anyone knows about it. So it was pretty empty. And they let you scramble down to the bottom (the Bottom of the Gunnison). But there's not a "path", there's a "route" or, as we started to realize, something more like an idea of a place where you might possibly be able to make it to the bottom and back up without dying. Sort of. (Adding 'of the Gunnison' makes everything cooler... of the Gunnison).

- The Pirates are cool. The Pittsburgh Pirates. Or, well, maybe not cool, but iconic. Let me explain. In Chicago I saw a high school emo kid wearing none other than a Pirates baseball hat. A Pirates hat in Cubs territory? But then I thought, and joked, "well, they've been losers for 17 years, and apparently he has been too." But then we kept seeing them. Pirates have become a symbol for emo kids across America. Who knew?

- Europeans love America more than we do. They must've outnumbered the natives by 2:1 at most of the National Parks, and probably 10:1 at some. Forget the fact that gas prices are insanely high or that the Euro is doing well against the dollar. The French are just plain more patriotic than we are.

- Meeting old friends on the road is an incredible blessing. Props to Jen, Keith, Kyle, Matt, and Ryan (and Mike and Shannon, Kelly's friends) for providing us with tours, fun, food, showers, and places to sleep.

- There are a lot of hard questions out there. Kelly and I debated the trade-offs between conservation and access over and over as we saw parks go one way (Yosemite: way too many people overrunning not enough space and trampling on a natural wonder) or the other (Kings Canyon: the 2nd largest roadless wilderness in the US, which one can barely see without a multi-day overnight backpacking trip). We much preferred the latter, but frankly got the best experiences out of the parks able to balance the two (Glacier, Joshua Tree, and perhaps Yellowstone).

- A sense of wonder is important. God made an incredibly awesome beautiful stunning world. Those creations point towards His majesty and glory. Sometimes it's important to just say "wow" and admire.

- I continue to be amazed that God never seems to do what I expect. Or in this case, focus on, teach me, or talk about what I expected.

- We're incredibly lucky. (I might have said 'blessed' but we'll stick with Kelly's word). Not a lot of people have a brother or sister that they could spend a month on the road with and enjoy utterly. Perhaps not many have one they could spend a month with anywhere and not kill. We, at least, didn't run into another sibling pair anywhere along the way. And we were continually and humorously mistaken for a couple repeatedly. But honestly, I have an amazing sister. Despite the fact that we are very different and disagree about a lot of things, we love each other intently and continue to get along.

- There's just too much to do. A month is nowhere near enough time. We would have gladly stayed a week or two at most of the places. We didn't even get to many places that were within hours. Several things got added to the 'list of things to do before I die'.

- I highly recommend it. Go see some things. Go do something different. It's not really hard (we knew practically nothing). And it's not even that expensive. We did it quite cheaply (eating lots of peanut butter and camping almost continually)... but could have done it for even less (sleeping in the car instead of paying for camping, etc.) Take your favorite person (or people) and go. I can't wait to do it the next time.

Car Troubles: Day #8-#15 (ish)

2008-07-29T08:55:00.002+05:30

We're currently at the Grand Canyon. And it's awesome. But we've had tons of adventures and I haven't updated at all, so I'm going to write up the past adventures and publish them in installments (which probably won't happen much more until we get home).

On our way out of Seattle we decided it was time for an oil change. So we roll into a Midas in Puyallup Washington around 10am. We’re hanging out in the lobby when the Midas guy comes out and says, “Your oil change is done, but your front wheel bearings are bad”.

But they’d just been replaced. A week before leaving home. To say the least, I’m a little dubious. How trustworthy is Midas? But then, both Kelly and I are more than a little dubious about Dad’s mechanic at home who did them originally.

So we call Dad. “Stop at another mechanic and get it checked out”.

We peace out of Midas ($74 – oil change, inspection, new windshield wipers) and quickly spot a fairly busy looking mechanic down the road.

Explaining the situation and my mistrust of both previous mechanics to the new mechanic we leave the car with the third mechanic who says “it’s going to take a couple of hours.” Isn’t there anywhere faster? “Not if you want a good mechanic.”

Now we’re in the middle of suburban sprawl. You know, four to six lane highways surrounded on all sides by chain restaurants and national brand stores. There are sidewalks, but when driving through these kinds of places I always think who would walk here? We walk down to Borders for a few hours and browse to kill time.

“The bearings are bad. Want me to replace them? It will take the rest of the day.” It’s now about 2. But driving the 4,000-5,000+ miles to home on bad bearings could mean the loss of a wheel at 70 mph. Go ahead and replace them I say.

Asking around we hear there’s a Best Buy across the street from Borders. So we scurry across the four-lane highway, again feeling out of place in the cars-only wasteland of suburban sprawl. Best Buy yields us a copy of V for Vendetta ($10) and I have my laptop. But we need a place to watch. “There’s a Starbucks across the road.”

So we cross another gigantic intersection while dozens of drivers stare at us to reach yet another paragon of American suburban consumerism. There we sit outside and fight with car noises, old men with shopping carts, and the Starbucks soundtrack to hear Hugo Weaving and Natalie Portman defeat the evil that is post-apocalyptic, ultra-conservative, fascist England. ($5 - coffee).

We get a call around 5:30 and trudge back down the road to get the car. The bearings had been replaced, but were apparently defective, because they have gone bad again in only 4,000 miles. ($520 – new wheel bearings and an honest opinion)

I wish I could say that was the end of our car troubles.

We were soon in San Francisco hanging out with the one and only Matthew Case and the long lost Kyle Staley (former CSM co-worker from NYC). It was an awesome time of catching up, seeing some of the city, meeting the current CSM hosts, and eating amazing Mexican-Salvadorian food.

At one point in the evening we’d gone to an overlook to see the city. It was beautiful, but when it was time to leave, we couldn’t get Kyle’s key to turn in the ignition of his truck. He tried. I tried. Matt tried. Kelly tried. Ana tried. We tried every which way possible. Eventually Ana’s dad tried. No combination of turning the steering wheel, pushing the gear shift, raising and lowering the steering column, rolling the car, disconnecting the battery, praying, or jumping up and down would get the key lock to disengage. So I called AAA.

Within 45 seconds the AAA truck driver had the car started. He showed us what he did and within 15 seconds was gone again ($0 – woot! AAA)

We get back to the housing site, and Kyle gets it to work once. And only once. He ends up crashing for the night because we can’t get the truck started again.
Fast-forward a few days. We’re driving from Yosemite National Park to Sequoia National Park. We stop in Fresno for gas and to try to get internet. After filling up I go to start the car and it lurches forward. Not supposed to happen.

Another call to AAA. The gas station guy has us push the car out of the way one way, and then 10 minutes later, the other. We get towed (AAA - $0) and dropped off at another mechanics.

But we're again lost in suburban consumer sprawl. More walking across large intersections. More gigantic shopping plazas. More hot sidewalk. We shop at REI for awhile. We end up (surprise) at Starbucks for internet and (surprise) it's not free.

"The main clutch cylinder line is leaking. It's going to take a couple of hours".

So we decide to watch Batman: The Dark Knight ($15). (which was excellent... until the end... can you say... thematic confusion? more on that later)

Towards the end of the movie the phone rings. I realize it's the mechanic. And it's almost 6pm. I call him as soon as the movie ends. "Did you forget about your car?" No... I was just in a good movie. "We close in 10 minutes." I'll be there in 10 minutes.

But we're more than a mile away. I end up sprinting through suburban sprawl in my sandals leaving Kelly to tote the bags and stuff back.

I make it in 11 minutes. ($350) We live to see another day on the road.

Seriously hoping there are no more car issues... but Ebony has been making that noise for a couple of days...

First Showers, First Internet: Day #8

2008-07-15T10:52:00.006+05:30

So the first showers since Indiana really were yesterday, but today was the first day we've had internet since leaving. I've got to say, the first shower in eight states was glorious. Lots of tales to tell, but too little time (it's inching towards midnight here on the west coast, so that's about 3 am for most of you... and for at least some part of my body still).

So far we have camped in Indiana, wandered around Chicago and eaten some excellent deep dish pizza, driven through and camped on the other side of an impressive rainstorm, left two pints of blood with the Wisconsin mosquito brigade, mostly ignored Minnesota, admired the Badlands, paid way too much to get a glimpse of a monument, hung out with Jenn in South Dakota, been amazed at the beauty of Yellowstone, hung out by some hot springs, hiked into northern Yellowstone, seen some mule deer from up close, been even more shocked and awed at the gorgeousness of Glacier, hiked to a pristine remote mountain lake, and explored some super cool parts of Seattle.

We've also only broken the car once (hoping to fix that tomorrow), paid too much for something once (ie: anything for the Crazy Horse Monument), and looked like idiots on public transportation once (but quickly, sort of, recovered). We've also gotten along smashingly well.

Haven't uploaded the most recent of photos, but here's some from the beginning:

Departure: Roadtrip Day # -1

2008-07-06T02:29:00.002+05:30

We're ready to leave.

What started as some wishful thinking months ago has now become reality. In about 10 hours Kelly and I will be hitting the road. Supplies have been purchased. Plans have been made. Bags have been packed. We won't be returning for a month.

Wooohoooooo!

Not at all sure what to expect. It's going to be a wild adventure. And that's enough.

First Stop: Indiana Dunes State Park/Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore

Kicking It

2008-07-03T20:13:00.000+05:30

I was pretty sad to miss Euro 2008 this year, as I was in Peru. It's not every day we get quality soccer on TV. And with the next world cup 2 years away, what's a man to do?

How about the Homeless World Cup? That's right, an international street soccer tournament for the homeless. An incredibly imaginative way of bringing dignity, value, and hope to some of God's children that the world sees as worthless. And there's a documentary on it too.

Check out kickingitthefilm.com