Formula for Frustration

On Saturday at church, we attempted to plow through the story of Jacob, Rachel, and Leah in Genesis 29-30.  What a messed up, real, yet hopeful story of God’s blessing in the midst of chaos.  My thoughts centered on the reality that God continued to bless Rachel and Leah in the midst of their longing for other things.  Rachel was given love from her husband and Leah blessed with many children.  Both were said to be blessings from the Lord.  We find these two ladies continually crying out for something they couldn’t have.

Contentment is a nasty ordeal isn’t it?  Perhaps, one of the easiest ways for us to lose focus on the blessing of God over our lives is to think about what we don’t have.  What we’ve lost.  What we wish could be.  If I was just in that place, that job, married to that person . . . and on and on the ride goes.  We’ve all been here.  Perhaps some of us live here.  And, it is certainly a formula for frustration.  A sure way to stay miserable – just ignore the blessings of God poured out over our lives.

At times I have thought that American culture is completely backwards when it comes to being content in our current situation.  Craving for money, power, and success truly do rule our lives at times.  I’ve often idolized pieces of African, Asian, and Latino culture because of the strong relational focus they bring.  While these traits are wonderful gifts from the Lord, discontentment knocks on all of our doors.  It pounds and pounds to the point where we either deal with it or continue to ignore it.  Every culture, every family, every person deals with this gnawing feeling to try to escape and not deal with what is before them.

What then would this mean in challenging the most vulnerable to embrace the blessings God has given them?  While the refugee highway may be paved with pain, loss, and tears, it is also a place where God continues to lavish his rich blessings.  God gives many who are stranded on this highway the ability to keep going, keep moving, and stay hopeful.  What a gift.  That hope can come from no one other than the Sustainer of all things who continues to bless.  I don’t know if I have what it takes to survive on such a highway, but I do know what it feels like to lose things, people, and abilities that are precious to me.  My dear friend Paul taken by a logging accident in college.  My eyesight taken away day by day.  Seeing dear friends and colleagues struggle deeply through horrible train wrecks in their marriages and careers.  It isn’t exactly a refugee highway, but it sure has the markings of hell that roll over many parts of the globe.

Into this we all have to learn how to speak of, sing out, and perhaps scream aloud the rich, wonderful, extravagant blessings of God.  He is the Source.  He holds it all together.  We can’t afford to live in frustration by ignoring His strong hand in all things.

 

Blind Linguist

As I continue to make attempts to learn Nepali while living in the US, I am reminded that many have gone befoe me on the long road of learning another language.  Within the last week I have gotten in touch with a couple of blind linguists who teach at the university level.  Robert Englebretson has taught for 15 years at Rice Univeristy in the linguistics department, mastered a few languages while Sheri taught ESL overseas and is now teaching at Bowling Green State Univeristy.  Tehse two have inspired me beyond imagination as I face blindness and language learning.  Both of them are totally blind and have learned languages with no use of visuals.  Remarkable.

It almost makes me believe that any cross-cultural worker who doesn’t make a valiant effort to learn language is a failure. . . or at least they don’t care enough.  If Robert and Sheri have done it, despite eyesight, vsurely it can inspire us to push on.

Starting next month, Charity and I will be starting up Nepali again with a language tutor at the drop-in center with a couple of others.  We are super excited for this.  Our teammate Jeremy will be diving into Somali with a separate language tutor as we all try to deepen our roots to understand our neighbors.

Cross-Cultural Workers Learning Language in the States

There has been, for many years, the tendency for those doing ethnic ministry here at home to survive in English-based ministry.  I’m not sure that we can afford to keep doing this if we’re really going to know and love our neighbors well.  Though my 1^st grade level Nepali might sound utterly foolish and it is an uphill battle as ethnic communities try to learn English as we try to learn Nepali, the grind is worth it.   I’m confident as we stay at it over these next months, we can make some major progress.

Is it worth it?

A guy tried to throw his girlfriend out the window across the street from the drop-in center a couple weeks ago and a teammate called the police.  This week a $250,000 drug bust took place a mile from my apartment.  Last week a news article came out exposing an apartment complex in our neighborhood that was just ravaged with poor upkeep (bed bugs, prostitution, critters, damages, no maintenance whatsoever) and all were in danger of being evicted.  So much pain.  So much devastation.  That then is compounded with friends who have been shielded off in refugee camps now being resettled in a pretty jacked up neighborhood.  It is hard enough to figure out this world when you understand the language; it’s next to impossible without it.  We’ve gotta talk to our neighbors.  Of course it’s worth it.  The only way to fight evil and help through the gauntlet is by doing good, showing Jesus.  Let the language continue.  Blind linguist

Trauma, My Neighborhood, and Redemption

Many of you know that I work with people who have, on a reoccurring basis, learned how to deal with deep loss.  Family members killed, being taken hostage, rape, abandonment – you name it and many of my friends in the neighborhood have experienced it.  Though I hang out all the time with friends who have been marked by such experiences, I can’t seem to fully understand the effects of such a sin scarred world.

On Saturday morning there was a vicious murder right across the street from Arlington Estates apartments where I spend a good portion of my time.  A Karen man came home to find his wife with another man and brutally killed him.  He stabbed his wife in the eyes blinding her, right in front of their five year old daughter.  Fifteen or so people from two different apartments gathered outside to try and escape the horror.

Two days prior, a friend of mine told me how the police shot and killed a man who had been beating his wife.  The police came to check it out when the abuser pulled a gun on the police.  The police had no option but to kill him.  Last week, a guy down the hall was allegedly beating the crap out of his wife.

The story of refugees is indeed traumatic.  The refugee highway is surely a scar on world paved with tears, pain, and tragedy.  As I pier across my neighborhood fever the last week I’m left a bit speechless.  It is very easy for me to understand why so many people lose hope when their securing is in the hands of their culture, family, or some other form of the kingdom of this world.  That Karen family who has been literally slaughtered has no option but to surrender everything to the hope and reality of Jesus.  For me, I see no other option.

Probably more agonizing is that, when compared to the perfect and relentless love of Christ, I am just as guilty as the psycho Karen guy I described earlier.  Before a holy, holy God I have the knife in my hands, dripping in my one guilty blood of pride, lust, selfishness, and greed.  We all come to Jesus on these terms and in His great grace He makes us clean.  He sees me now, not as a murderer, but as His son.  Spotless.  Justified.  Healed.  Whole.  Maybe that is actually harder to comprehend than the evil in my neighborhood – that a perfect God would love a sinner like me.

In light of the entire trauma going on around here, I am driven to see people healed with the matchless love of Jesus.  I need a lot of wisdom on how to navigate the gauntlet.  But, I’m convinced that if the love of Jesus can break through to me, it can break through to anybody.  May the grace and love of Jesus fill our streets like a mighty river and may the emotional, spiritual, and physical trauma of the refugee highway be erased by the blood of the Cross.  How humbling it is that God continues to use hanging out with people, Spirit-enfused hanging out with people, to announce His Kingdom reign.

Unity

So we had lunch with a friend of ours today who grew up Lutheran and who is involved in cross-cultural ministry here in the Twin Cities.  I find her perspective so fresh as she brings to the table a different way for me to look at things.  She is entering her senior year at a Lutheran school here.  Without flinching, she spoke of her huge desire to dig deeper into God’s Word with people across
denominational lines and discover Jesus together.  Young people aren’t standing idle when it comes to unity; some are demanding it.  Refreshing.

In the next couple weeks I will be reading Rob Bell’s book Love Wins as well as Francis Chan’s Erasing Hell.  It seems that we can’t have a conversation about such subjects in the body of Christ without running to our camp.  It doesn’t seem like we have much of a desire
to sit down with those with whom we disagree and study together.  I’m not looking that we all holds and smoke peace pipes, but a cup of coffee with an actual conversation would be nice.

Jesus’ prayer for unity is fresh on my mind today.  Looking forward to reading and studying in the days ahead.

Ministry in the Context of Immigration

The current political landscape in the United States teems with emotion over the issue of immigration.  Lines are drawn; opinions are made, while millions who would have otherwise been unable to hear the Gospel are now at our doorstep.  I live and work amongst hundreds of immigrants who are in this country legally.  Many have spent years in refugee camps in Asia and Africa and only recently have been able to resettle to a country theycan call their own.  While there are certainly major issues in regard to illegal immigration, there are millions now in our cities that came to the United States as legal immigrants, just as most of us.  What is to be said about doing ministry in the context of immigration?

Illegal and Legal Immigration – Often One Ball of Wax In my talks with many people, particularly Christians, I have observed that their hand is just above the “panic” button when it comes to the talk of immigration.  Illegal immigration sends many people reeling and they have scores of thoughts on how or why the illegal’s needs to go home.  But what happens so frequently in such discussions on immigration is that legal immigrants, many of whom are refugees and have no way possible to reenter their native country, are grouped in the same category as those who are illegal.  Further, such individuals are often viewed as a political and religious threat to our imagined Christian country, thus giving us the rationale to hold people at arm’s length who are new to the country.

For a moment, let’s throw the illegal immigrant issue aside
and talk only about the folks who are in our country legally – people who have been invited by the United States government to live here.  What does the bible have to say about loving
and caring for the foreigner in our midst?  How should we respond?

Leviticus 19:33-34

“When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien w resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were
aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”

Deuteronomy 10:18-19

He executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and … loves the strangers, providing them with food and clothing. You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Proverbs 31:8-9

“Speak out for those who cannot speak, for the rights of all the destitute Speak out, judge righteously defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

Matthew 2:14-23

Joseph, Mary and Jesus flee to Egypt. They had a well-founded fear of persecution. Chri was himself a refugee.

Luke 14:13-14

“But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And y will be blessed, because they cannot repay you…”

1 John 3:17-18

“How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in trut and action.”

I’m not much for splattering a bunch of Bible Promise Book sort of verses together, but I believe this sampling of verses, all taken in context, drives us toward a heart for the refugee.  Somehow as fuel is thrown on the fire in the political debate, these sorts of Godward postures aren’t discussed.  Political views aside, “Speak English” bumper stickers ripped off the fender – do we love the stranger in our midst and do we believe they have something to give?  Why do we need them?

The Church can often be good at offering pity dressed in compassionate or empowerment sort of language.  But I find myself continually asking the question of why I need my friends or why I need my neighbors.  I want to be around them more than anyone else for a reason and it’s not solely because I believe I have this wonderful message to share.  Certain that is a huge part of it, but my
friends have something huge to offer me in terms of hospitality, trust, humility, friendship – they are some of the most amazing people on earth.  Again, the immigration jargon drowns this all
out.

One Allegiance – Jesus

The Biblical text is clear in that we have one master to whom we give full allegiance and to whom we take our marching orders.  “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money..” (Matthew 6:24)  The idea of having duel allegiances is a perspective that some theologians have raised in talking about allegiance to God and country.  We are instructed to have one King and participate in His Kingdom which turns the kingdom of this world upside down.  We are citizens of a
Kingdom that is very unlike the United States of America and whose Master is relentless about caring for the stranger.  Somehow the face of Jesus becomes strangely dim in light of our glory and race.  Weren’t the words to the old song “Turn your eyes upon Jesus and the things of this earth will grow strangely dim in light of His glory and grace”?

The Immigrant Church is Thriving in the US

I’m punching a bit hard but I’ve sat through one too many
conversations and read one too many forwarded emails that make blanket statement toward legal immigrants whom people haven’t personally met.  Ministry in the context of immigration is an
issue that we will have to continually face in the days ahead.  The ethnic church can’t be thrown down in the basement on Sundays at 2pm and then we pump our chests out and say “we’re an international church.”

Soong Chan Rah has argued in his book The Next Evangelicalism that perhaps the only place the church is growing in America is amongst the ethnic populations.  The church is continuing to become less and less white and more colorful.  Immigrants
are bringing to the table some beautiful things in the body of Christ and
without their contribution perhaps we would be farther down the slippery slope than we already are.  I am humbled and amazed how God is bringing the world to us and using them to be a blessing to
the nations.  I want to be dragged alongn for the ride and help where I can.

So is our response fear and worry or hope and opportunity?  I hope to develop these comments much more in depth in an article in the coming weeks and months – ministry in the context of immigration.

Mourning well

About two weeks ago, the mother of one of our best friends died here in the neighborhood.  We have been watching her die over the last couple years.  She lives such a long life and spent the last few years in very unfamiliar territory in a new country.

It’s great that our friends were able to keep the Nepali custom of cremating the body of a loved one within 24 hours of death.  To see them scramble together to figure out how to do this in a new system in the US was pretty rewarding.  I was proud of them.

The Bhutanese-Nepali have a custom where for 16 days people come and go, visiting the immediate family who has lost their relative.  On Tuesday or Wednesday of last week, we stopped by at about 9:30pm and there was lots of life in that place.  In two separate bedreeoms, older immediate relatives were mourning with traditional Hindu custom.  In the living room it was a like a youth party with folks 30 years ago and under.  Tea, coke, iPods, laptops on, card games going – there must have been 20 people just hanging out in order to be with our friends as they mourned.  At one point, an elder came from the bedroom into the living room to scold the youngins for being so rowdy.  It was nearing 10:30pm and nobody noticed.  What a culture.  I love the Bhutanese way of life and have been changed by it. (Check out how many feet were at the apt at 10pm w/ the shoe count to the right.)

Interestingly, we came to the same home at different parts of the day over the last couple weeks and saw people mourning in several different ways.  Some would simply sit on the couch and say nothing.  Some would entertain themselves as I described previously.  Some would simply talk to the relatives who had lost a family member.  Friends came from all over St. Paul and Minneapolis to be.

Though we have a completely different worldview from our best friends that cannot be integrated religiously, I certainly can identify with their sense of family, the sense of community and longing to do what is religiously appropriate.  At the end of the day we’re people trying to make it through the day.  Certainly, this hope that I have inside gives me great assurance and joy.  Until all have been heard. . . .And heard, we will sit, stay, and hang in there.

Seek the peace and prosperity of the city

This is what the LORD Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: ⁵ “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. ⁶ Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. ⁷ Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” (Jer 29:4-8)

Incarnational Living – No more us and them

If you’ve hung out with me for any length of time you know that I’m bit overkill on the idea of seeing the “us and them” wall broken down in relationships.  Living cross-culturally for close to a decade, its something that ha to be addressed if I’m going to live in peace and harmony and have normal relationships with those around me.  This passage has been a hallmark verse for me in what it really means to live amongst my neighbors and stay on mission with Jesus.

I met a guy who was visiting one of my Bhutanese neighbors the other day when he just naturally assumed I was from the burbs.  In his eyes, the helping families and volunteers from any social service organization don’t live in the community.  I responded sharply, ‘No way brother. I live across the street.”  He smiled and laughed pleading ignorance.

But before I stick my chest our too far, in my decision to “plant gardens and settle among them” I am confronted with the miniscule amount of prayer and welfare-seeking I have been seeking for my city.  It is almost easier to get busy, get to know neighbors, and immerse myself in the neighborhood than it is to do true spiritual battle and pleading with God on shifting the spiritual tide around here.  I re-read this tonight and was deeply challenged.

”Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I’ve carried you.”  Though not an exile or refugee, God has me here.  He called me to this place.  And I suppose for so many of us, there is a sense of calling wherever we are.  This idea of having a missionary self-image, knowing hat we’re the right person, in the right place, and no one else is coming to do the task we’ve been assigned is startling at times.  So now, to push beyond theory and feeling good about ourselves, how do we truly seek the peace and prosperity of the city?  Our town?  Our village?

What do you think is means to seek the peace and prosperity of the city?  Can you give practical examples in how you or your friends are doing it?  Like everyday and not just for a few minutes at a time?  Would love to hear.

Reading Again. . . Thanks to Kindle and Phil

Many of you know of my visual impairment and constant attempt to make the most use of the little vision I have.  This has made reading the printed page a major struggle in the last several years.  Until recently, I had spent the last two or three years primarily reading from the computer or audio books, which greatly limited the selection.  Best sellers or pop theology articles online was hardly helping my mind out too much.

A former professor and dear friend of mine, Dr. Phil Parshall, got wind of my struggle and encouraged me to get a Kindle Reader.  He bought me one as a Christmas present.  I had delayed getting the reader as the past versions had very weak blind accessible features.  But since getting the handy little machine in December, I’ve been able to read several books.  It is like discovering sight again in many ways.

Reading, learning, and growing is such a blessing.  I’m thankful for my Kindle.  Just finished The Next Evangelicalism and am currently reading Urban Ministry: The Kingdom, the City, and the People of God.  One of my goals this year is to read through several of the holy books – Bible, Koran, Bhagavad-Gita Gita, etc.  It’s cool to be moving on this already.  So thankful for technology.

A Third Place or Second Place Church?

People form relationships everywhere.  The first, and most natural place is the home.  Second, work.  Third tea or coffee shops?  Several people have termed churches that meet in pubs or tea/coffee shops as “third place” churches.

Many of you are aware that our church has moved into a new phase as we’ve been part of seeing one ethnic fellowship in a fairly traditional form.  That fellowship has its own leadership, is conducted in their mother-tongue, and is under the care of a healthy, growing mother church.

So we at Intl Village are back to the drawing board with our work.  What we have seen and experienced over the last few years as being the greatest asset is the ability to form relationships and talk to our friends about pretty much everything in their lives.  The idea of the “home” being first place in relationship building is something we’ve grown to love and value, an easy place for us to hang with our friends and share life together.

Because so many of our friends are new to the country, they find themselves struggling to find work.  For them, there is no real second place to form relationships.  It either happens in the home. . . .or it happens in the home.  We recognize the deep need for a third-place sort of atmosphere to be formed.  This venue most probably will be centered around tea, conversation, and some basic practical needs.

A Second Place Tea Community Center

So the third environment of a tea shop, community space is actually second place in our neighborhood.  Because of lack of work, boredom can easily set in, leading to discouragement and feelings of disillusionment.

Our next phase of ministry is to begin a fundraising stint for a community space for the new Americans in our neighborhood.  A friendship center/tea shop/help with practical needs vnue, if you will.  Here we will do Kingdom life together over tea, learning and growing together.  We hope to be an encouragement to one another as we learn to trust one another, fill out paperwork we don’t understand, practice our new languages, and discover the life that is in God.  A second place tea shop friendship center for our heroes and comrades. friends Here we go again!

People are still asking about Jesus. . .

In a post-Christian America I sometimes can become jaded and wonder if people are asking faith questions.  It seems we are so self-sufficient, independent.  Though I tend to roll in a world that is certainly a sub-culture of mainstream America I have been so encouraged this week with people who are honestly asking questions about Jesus.

 On Sunday I met a guy who had been in the country less than three weeks.  His youngest son told me he wasn’t all too interested in Jesus or His teachings.  Ironically, after greeting him in his language, the man sat silently for awhile.  His next response was this: “Who can I talk to that knows something about the Christian faith and how can I learn more?”

 What a powerful question from Ian honest seeker.

 I related this story to a friend of mine who is a committed Christian serving overseas.  I said, “Who in asks that kind of question?  I wish more people were asking that question.”  My friend responded, “I wish I was asking that question.”  A powerful response.  I want to be asking myself how to learn more about Jesus and his teachings and honoring him with obedience.

 I was able to talk with this new family again later this afternoon.  The oldest brother in the family, who is also following Christ, despite opposition, related the “selling point” for Him in his search of Christ.  He stated that he had searched through many other teachings and faiths and it was the compelling love of Christ who was willing to lay down his life for all humanity that ruined him.  The Gospel  God sending his son to die for us – save us from our sin, save us from Hell and give us newness of life.  What a conversation today.

 For me, there is no greater joy than seeing people I love and trust discover Jesus for the first time.  Being able to walk with people as they ask honest questions is so powerful.  Immanuel, God with us, is a good reminder of what kind of example we should be for those searching for the Light.

 Over the holidays I hope to be able to follow up in depth with my new friends who honestly desire to know Christ.  It starts tomorrow. J

 Don’t let us ever be duped into thinking that the Kingdom grows solely with big buildings, budgets, and programs;  the adrenaline of the crowd can cause us to think this way.  All around the world, there is a band of people who are simply walking the walk with their friends (and sometimes their enemies) explaining the truth, living the truth, helping people walk in that truth.  This is how the Kingdom grows – life on life, moment by moment, one conversation at a time.  This is the story of people and churches that are red-hot and oozing with life.  People are still asking about Jeus.  May we be found faithful in sitting and listening long enough to be trusted.