Friends and Enemies

Talking with a colleague several years ago, he mentioned a person whom I had business with. In the course of the conversation he let it be known that he did not have a good relationship with this mutual acquaintance. When I told him that, not only did I know this person, he was a friend of mine and wondered if that was a problem with us working together? He said to me, “Lewis, you don’t have to adopt my enemies to be my friend.”

I thought about that in my early morning walk today in Chennai. I have a friend here I have been working with for over ten years. He’s a visionary, charismatic and opinionated. He is also obstinate, a bit preachy and I certainly don’t agree with some of his projects. I have known people who have partnered with my friend who decided that he was either dishonest or a dictatorial tyrant and therefore severed their relationship with him. Many of those people wonder why I continue my relationship with such a man. The reasons are basic.

First, people who develop relationships based on competing agenda’s are bound to clash. When everyone wants to take the credit for how many souls are saved, how many churches are planted, how many orphans are supported, someone is going to be unhappy on how the money is or should be spent. My friend and I do not have competing agenda’s. His goals and mine are the same, i.e. training people how to take the message of Christ cross-culturally. Neither he nor I use each other for our own end. Because his goals and mine are the same we are not in competition.

Second, most people who work my friend do not understand culture. Indian’s do not, for the most part, operate in an egalitarian fashion. Family businesses function with a very strong sense of hierarchy. Roles are well defined and few people get a vote on how the organization is run. I don’t make the rules; I just know how the rules are created which most people from the outside fail to understand. If someone wants to work with people in this culture they must understand that the person at the top is in control and to try and make them “accountable” (as they define accountability) is a waste of time. (Hierarchy is usually the result of a family run business. For established business and schools that is not run by the founder or his sons, the structure is more bureaucratic. There are egalitarian companies in India, but they are the minority).

Lastly, the reason I continue to work with my friend is that I do not desire to adopt someone else’s enemies for their approval. In every relationship it is a matter of give-and-take. Certainly that is true in marriage, so is it with all friendships. I know the parameters in which I can work with my friend. I work with him; I do not work for him. When I am on his turf I operate by his rules. When I disagree with him, which is often, we discuss it. We have built a mutual respect for each other in spite of our differences in opinion or personality.

As I continued my walk I thought about my younger brother who has made a mess of his family because he insists that one must adopt his enemies to be his friend. Others in the family have embraced that same philosophy making it impossible for reconciliation. I thought about church members who, not only left a church over a disagreement, have broken relationships with those of their former church because they are unwilling to support their unhappy position. I thought about people in my life that I no longer have a relationship with because I refuse to adopt their enemies. Life is too short. I may not like your friends, but you don’t have to adopt my enemies to be a friend of mine.

Conflict and Cultures

I am presently reading The Argumentative Indian, by Amartya Sen. He begins,

“Prolixity is not alien to us in India. We are able to talk at some length. Krishna Menon (when he was leading the Indian delegation) holds the longest speech ever delivered in the United Nations (nine hours non-stop), established half a century ago and, has not been equaled by anyone from any where. We do like to speak.”

I thought about Sen’s book while in the bank the other day. Sure, one gets use to the talking, arguing, bartering in the bazaar, but the bank? I was amused as I listened to the complaints by customers and the defense by the employees. Then I thought about my own culture and how that, when it comes to money, or frustrated with poor service, we can get more than a bit testy as well. I guess it’s true of all cultures. Or is it?

Cultures are usually put into one of two categories, conflict or shame. Shame cultures are often thought to be primarily among peoples of the Far East -- China, Japan, Thailand, etc. It’s not that they don’t argue, they can and they do. However, especially as it relates to interpersonal relationships, they are less confrontational. The best way to handle conflict in those cultures is through third party mediation.

Southeast Asian countries of India, Pakistan, and the Middle East are conflict cultures. One does not need a reason to argue in these societies; even the daily buying of bread is enough for debate. Latin American’s are not passive in their interactions so they, too, would be in the conflict group, but not as much as in Southeast Asia.

In some parts of the Western Europe, tolerance often means no opinion, but one would still not classify them as a shame culture -- perhaps a milk toast combination depending on the situation. American’s can be in-your-face and they lend more toward conflict, though not as severe as the Middle East. I am certain the kids working in the call centers of Mumbai would disagree with my accommodating assessment, but dealing with people who get unsolicited telemarketing calls is not a true gauge of society.

As one looks at confrontation and culture it’s easy to see the transference of religious belief and behavior. (Is religion born out of culture, or is cultural behavior shaped by religion?) The cultures of Buddhism and Shintoism hold humility as a value. While in Korea recently I observed that even among Christian’s, the Shinto approach to life is adopted by everyone in society. Confrontation is dealt with behind the scenes so that one does not lose face.

Evangelical North Americans are individualistic and opinionated and therefore prone more toward confrontation “The Bible says it, I believe it and that settles it,” is not an argument but merely a confrontational slogan. Christians whose motto is “live and let live,” hold a more passive liberal theology and are as useless as the turn-or-burn fundamentalists in communicating the message of Christ to non-belivers.

Muslims of course are in constant conflict. It’s not just a derogatory cartoon that will send them into the streets to riot; they kill their own as a matter of course on issues they find objectionable. Today’s enemy are the infidels, tomorrow it will be the Shiite that lives on the other side of town. “Have a nice day” isn’t a part of their worldview.

The behavior of Hindu’s runs from soup to nuts as it relates to their faith. They either will vehemently argue or arrogantly dismiss those who do not share their beliefs, but they are never neutral.

No matter where you live, the argumentative Indian is in us all. How one manifests that disagreement depends on your culture. In Rome they will ask for a bowl of water as a sign that they will not be involved in such matters, while in Jerusalem they have no problem defending God’s honor by nailing you to a cross. .

Essentializing Experience

New words and phrases are always helpful. Most of us grapple with communicating thought and wish we had better way of saying things. Finding new words or phrases is like finding a precious gem, or perhaps, less dramatic, a morsel of savory meat at the bottom of a bowl of soup.

While attending a missiological consultation a few weeks back, a woman asked the speaker at the conclusion of his presentation how the subject matter related to women (it didn’t make any difference what the subject was, the same woman asked the same question to everyone who spoke). In the course of his response he acknowledged that, being a man, he certainly couldn’t address the subject as it relates to her experience.

“However,” he continued, “I reject the idea that my thoughts are not valid just because I view this situation differently. Essentializing experiences is, on the whole, not helpful.”

Essentializing experience. Great phrase. Don’t know if it’s a word (as my spellchecker can’t find it), but a great thought nevertheless. What does it mean?

When a person makes his or her experience THE experience for everyone to emulate they are essentializing. Essentializing experience is the kissing-cousin of reductionism, i.e. everything can be reduced to a biological, psychological, gender-specific or theological explanation. All religions practice both essentialism and reductionism. I can either prove it through the holy writings or I believe it because I have had an experience.

As a follower of Jesus Christ I can give both a theological as well as an experiential argument for my faith. And, while my experience is important and helpful in dialogue, essentializing my faith neither proves anything nor should be the basis for argument. I may argue that I experienced peace and forgiveness the day I accepted Christ as my Savior and became a decided follower of Him, but my experience does not mean that others must have the same feeling for their faith to be legitimate.

It’s the essentializing of experience that has caused much grief in the church. I’m quite content, though often skeptical, to know that others have experienced healing, talked with Jesus face-to-face, spoke in an unknown tongue or sense a warm feeling of His presence when they pray. However, when others insist that everyone must have that same feeling to be truly born-again, filled with the Spirit or be sanctified, the experience becomes a barrier and a point of contention for those who have not been so blessed with that same experience. Must one shed tears of remorse to be a true repentant? Must one take baptism immediately after embracing Christ to show they are true believer? Personal experience should not be taught as a universal principle.

Is experience therefore unimportant? Of course it’s important, to the believer, and can be used in the course of discussion, but its apologetic value is limited. The Apostle Paul talked about his experience on the road to Damascus (the Lord appearing and speaking to him – Acts 9:1-9), but Paul does not teach that a person must hear from heaven to be a follower and does not suggest that every missionary call must include a blinding light. When Paul recounted his Damascus road experience, non-believers merely dismissed him as being mad.

Space doesn’t allow for the discussion that experience itself is, not only a bad position for argument, it can also be dangerous. False doctrine is born more often through a combination of poor hermeneutics coupled with essentializing experience.

Essentializing experience. Great phrase. Embrace your experience, make sure that it has proper biblical support, but don’t make it an essential doctrine for others.

Names

Most people have heard the story of the soldier who was brought before Alexander the Great to be judged for misconduct.

“What is your name?” the Emperor asked.

Timidly the solder replied, “Alexander, sir.”

Outraged the great general roared, “Either change your ways or change your name.”

Names are a fascinating study. In America, where a name is more likely a reflection of the time than meaning, the days of Fred and Frank of the ‘50’s is now given way to Justin and Jamie of today. We might be grateful for the change as who would want to be stuck with names of the ‘20’s such as Ola (which is my mom’s name) or Wathena or Lila Venus.

In India I am often asked what’s “my good name.” I still don’t know if they want my given or surname, but since they are confused with both Richard and Lewis it doesn’t make much difference what I give them.

In Kenya you can usually get a clue of the tribe of a person by their last name. If it has a strong “gha” or “ka” sound like, “Gichuki” or “Kariuki,” they are usually Kikuyu; names that begin with “M” are Luya’s, such as Mgoya. For the Luo tribe almost all names begin with “O” such as Odinga. I had Luo guy working for me by the name of Ochieng. Whenever I got a letter from him the envelope was addressed to a Mr. Lichard Oruis.

Indians love “pet” names. There are a lot of women called Pinky, a few Bubbles and one Punjabi guy is called Dimples. My advice is if he goes to the states he not take that name with him. Names carry meaning in India as they often reveal status or caste. In the south, where the majority of the Christians live, there are a lot of people with the surname Thomas, Matthews and Samuels. Occasionally I have even met a few David Livingston’s and Charles Spurgeon’s.

While I was in Korea last month I was intrigued with those who had taken on Western names. There are a lot of Kim’s and Cho’s, but their first names are real tongue twisters. When I met my translator she told me her name was Becky.

“Really,” I said. How did you get that name?

She told me her friend gave it to her. I asked others who had taken on Western names how they got theirs. One guy told me that an American friend, who couldn’t pronounce his given first name, said, “You look like a ‘Joe’ to me, and so that’s what I’ll call you.” Now, when he meets an American he just tells them his name is Joe.

I met another Korean by the name of Brian. He said a friend gave him the name and he liked it. When I asked how his wife came to be called Brenda he told me, “My favorite singer growing up was Brenda Lee. I gave her the name Brenda because I loved Brenda Lee.” To me, that’s dangerous. I’m not sure my wife would like it if I called her Raquel (and I will let you guess who I’m thinking about).

In parts of Ethiopia a child is given two names. One that is revealed and one that is secret. The secret name is only revealed when the person is old enough to protect himself.

Some say that we will have a new name when we get to heaven (Rev. 2:17), though I’m not sure of that interpretation. Christ is given a name that only he himself knows (Rev. 19:12). I do think we need to think a bit more about the name Christian, which means “little Christ,” or “follower of Christ.” Like Alexander told the soldier, perhaps sometimes we need to either change our behavior or change our name.

Food and Globalization

“Let me see,” I said to myself as I looked at the menu board in front of me, “what am I hungry for?” There was an assortment of platters: Aloo (potato) Tikki, Biyriani (rice) Combo and the ever popular Pratha (flat bread) N Curry. Since I had my fill of Indian food for the week, I opted for the local made chicken burger.

As I stood in line at the noisy food court in Hyderabad, I observed my social context. Those gathered on the top floor of the mall were young, mostly under 30 years of age and middle class. The price, as well as the quality, of goods sold at the mall is much greater than the street market or bazaar. The music blasted a few decimals short of a jet engine and the kids looked like any other group of kids at any food court. That’s when it struck me…globalization!

Globalization does mean the blending of customs, language, dress and music. Like MTV, which is Rock no matter where you are, though sung in Lao or Latvian, food courts are a global/local phenomena. The new term for today’s trend is “glocal.” Whether the favorite dish is hot dogs (with only mayonnaise) in Santiago, or red chimchi and squid in Seoul, or the fajita wraps in Dallas, fast food at shopping malls is now a part of the international scene.

Those who resist globalization point to food courts as a prime example of the deterioration of culture. Stuart Miller writes in UNDERSTANDING EUROPEANS:

“With some exceptions, Americans are not very interested in the things they eat or in eating itself...we tend to be swallowers rather than tasters. In Milan, the most modern of Italian cities, the business lunch is still virtually unknown. Instead, they have their attention on the moment and they dedicate it to the food and the ceremony of eating. At the table, the food is discussed and food of other meals is remembered and compared with what one is eating now. Often, half the meal is taken up with talking about the food one is eating, the food one ate, the food one will eat, even how food is grown.”

Most people, especially in this hectic fast pace lifestyle of today’s world, treat food more as feed, not something to be savored. However, even in food courts, it’s not what we eat that is the issue but the social context of our dining experience. Anthropologist Mary Douglas states, “Food is a system of social communication...Food may nourish us, but we do not eat in order just to be nourished. Most people do not usually eat alone at irregular times and without the paraphernalia of seated eating. Nor do we eat what is best for us. Food events are like little rituals, [and] like rituals they involve communication.”

My epiphany in Hyderabad was that fast food is today’s version of the “raw,” of ancient man. Raw (or fast) food is for the informal, whereas cooked food is for meaningful communication. Okay, perhaps the food court is a pre-dating ritual for teenagers and therefore important for the socialization of raging hormones. In today’s glocal world food courts symbolize, what Thomas Friedman (THE WORLD IS FLAT) calls, the flattening of the earth.

My thoughts are interrupted as the kid with the funny hat behind the counter says to me in broken English, “Sir, would you like fries with that burger?” No wonder I like this place, it’s just like home.

Wedding Culture

Last week we were invited to attend a wedding reception, which was an interesting cultural experience. The groom is the son of a friend of my wife who is a fellow leader in Bible Study Fellowship here in New Delhi. Some observations about the evening:

The couple is from Kerala, a state in the south where the wedding took place. It’s tradition that the couple will live in with the grooms parents, who live in Delhi, thus the reason for a reception two weeks after the actual ceremony in the south. It was an arranged marriage, like most marriages in India. I didn’t get a chance to do an in-depth research (I was more interested in the food that was served), but my guess the union was based on three things --- both bride and groom were from Kerala and probably close in caste, both belonging to the same church (Marthoma Syrian, which was supposedly founded by St. Thomas, Apostle of Jesus) and, both being from a middle upper class of society.

As the MC was giving his speech the emphases was on the couples education; the groom has an advanced degree in civil engineering and the bride is completing her M.A. in food technology (whatever the heck that is). One can’t help but be struck by the importance of education in this society. I don’t think I ever attended a wedding in the states where they talked about educational and occupational accomplishments, just memories of the couple when they were little and their character qualities as being sweet, honest or hard working.

After the introduction everyone went by to give their gifts and have their picture taken with the bride and groom. Because it was a Christian wedding of a very strict denomination, there was no alcohol served. The Sikh guy who was there to be the D.J. was told to turn off the Punjabi music, so instead, we listened to the Beatles, Bee Gees, John Denver and Abba. We left early, but I understand the kids danced until about midnight. The food was more South Indian -- dal, rice, dosa and masala chicken. It was a non-veg. affair. Because everyone was from Kerala the women wore sari’s, the men wore western suits and those under 25 wore casual sweaters and jeans. The formal comments and most conversation was in English, though the older folks spoke Malayalam.

Being the only non-Indian couple there, it was obviously a very interesting event for Sandy and me. The mosaic of cultures God has created is amazing to observe.

Tolerance Is Not Open-Ended

There’s a fine line between being tolerant of others views yet holding to what we perceive to be truth. Those who have no strong opinions on issues berate those who do have an opinion, characterizing them as intolerant, at best, narrow minded bigots, at worse. Clearly one can be open to others opinion and gently agree to disagree. Depending on whether you are a radical open-minded person (who dismisses anyone who has a strong conviction about anything) or a radical closed-minded person (there is only one way correct answer, which is theirs), will determine whether there is room for dialogue. Example:

Wickets responded to one of my blogs (More Than Religion), stating he had a warm feeling toward Jesus, but had a poor opinion of Christianity. So far so good. I, too, have a poor opinion of institutional Christianity as some times it promotes the vehicle (church or denominationalism) of the message (Christ) than it does the Person (Jesus) of the message. This could be said of all institutional religion, Muslim, Hindu, and Buddhist.

Then Wickets said, “For me Jesus is as much sweet & benevolent as is Buddha... and more.” Ooops, we’ve crossed the line of tolerance to no man’s land of radical open-mindedness, i.e. situational ethics, relativism and the territory of whaaateverrrr.

As a follower of Jesus I would, of course, make a distinction between Jesus and Buddha. Actually the two are not in the same camp. Buddha taught self-enlightenment which leads to self-salvation. Jesus, however, taught that man’s salvation could never be attained through his own efforts. The whole reason Jesus came on the scene of the world was to provide salvation through His death and resurrection (I know it’s a strange story to non-believers, but I didn’t write the script, God did).

I realize that religion is divisive. Part of the reason is because of the fanaticism of the open and the closed minded. But a closer study of Jesus will reveal that he was a divisive personality. Heck, they nailed him to a cross because he told the world that he was the way, the truth and the life, and that if anyone wished to see God it would be through him. Jesus was hardly confused in who he was, nor was he very accommodating to those who disagreed with him. For over 2,000 years the person of Jesus continues to be divisive, especially to those who reject his claim or who preach the message of open-mindedness.

Tolerance is not open ended. The line of tolerance ends when a person becomes intolerant of those who hold a conviction of truth. Or, it ends when one seizes a conviction. You can say you love Jesus and Buddha, but in the sight of God, only one claimed to be His Christ. They are not mutually exclusive. Like loving two women, you have to choose one to be your wife…unless, of course, you can find a woman that is tolerant enough to allow you to love others at the same time. It doesn’t work that way on earth; it certainly doesn’t work that way in eternity.

You Make The Call

After I presented my paper on saturation church planting at a recent consultation, someone from the audience asked me my opinion on those in India classified as “churchless Christians.” The next day another presenter gave this case study.

“Last January while traveling to Goa by a Volvo bus from Bangalore, Kiran, a soft ware engineer was sitting next to me. I paused for prayer before the bus started. Immediately Kiran said, “I am also a believer. She shared her testimony. It was a joy to know how God captured her life and how the amazing love of God has been enabling her to witness for the Lord at work and in the neighborhood. She wanted to be discipled. Initially I helped her through emails and phone calls and later I put her in touch with a team to disciple her. After a few months God enabled her to lead her elder sister, Kokila, to Christ. Both the sisters have not taken baptism as they do not want to hurt the feelings of their devout Hindu parents, siblings and grandparents. They will be baptized in God’s appointed time. Nevertheless they continue to maintain a warm relationship with their family members.”

How do you feel about this case study? What are your thoughts on the churchless Christian? You make the call.

Gentle Scholar

Someone once said that PhD. stands for “piled higher and deeper.” Such comments are usually from people who don’t have a degree and feel better about themselves if they can tear down those with more education. It is true, however, that sometimes those with advanced degrees can be pretentious and arrogant. Attending a consultation this past week with a bunch of academician’s there was enough posturing at the meeting to last me for a year.

Dr. Paul Hiebert was at the conference, a man who is well known in missiological circles and whose writings on issues of contextualization, anthropology and mission are often cited. I have used Dr. Hiebert’s classic article on the “Flaw of the Excluded Middle,” many times as well as his classification of epistemology.

Having breakfast with this, now 73-year-old man, I was blessed with his genuine humble and gentle spirit. He grew up in India and we talked about the difficulties and blessings of “third culture kids” (TCK’s). I told him about my own children and what a rich experience it was for them to have been raised in Kenya. After I delivered my paper, he did not display his superior knowledge but was kind and encouraging toward my presentation.

I thought of another kind and tender scholar I met several years ago, Dr. Lloyd Kwast. Lloyd, who taught at Biola University, was one of the gentlest men I have ever known, and was as godly as he was brilliant. He passed away too young but his testimony to those he taught continues to resonate.

It won’t be too many years before I will reach the age of these two men who I admire. Though I cannot emulate their intellectual abilities, I can try to imitate their humility of spirit. My appreciation is to those who are brilliant yet who remain gracious.

Military Ministry

I cut my ministry teeth in Del Rio, Texas thirty-five years ago. Bethel Baptist Church was my first real pastorate and where I learned what it meant to be in full-time Christian service. Most of the congregation was made up military people from Laughlin Air Force Base outside of town. I look back with fond memories of the three years we were there but wish I knew then what I know now as to the importance of serving the Lord in a military town.

Last week the memories of Laughlin came back as I spoke at the Mission Baptist Church (http://www.missionbaptist.com) outside of Seoul. Mission Baptist is an international church, but the congregation is primarily people from Osan Air Base. I had the privilege to speak at the men’s prayer breakfast on Saturday and then to the morning service on Sunday. As I met people who, far away from home, faithfully find a church where they can worship each week, I was touched by their commitment to Christ. Military life is not easy and if you’re single or assigned overseas without your family, it can be doubly tough. I admire Christians who take their commitment of faith wherever they may be throughout the world.

To pastor Mike Ivey and to all those who provide a community of fellowship for believers who live away from their native land, thanks for the work you do.

Thank You

On my first visit to South Korea in 1980 I was overwhelmed by one word, kam sah hamnida, which means “thank you.”

A simple word, but I did not hear many “thank you’s,” in the previous four years while living in Kenya. Our family was on our way home from a grueling first term working in the bush of Africa and we spent twelve days in Korea visiting friends and speaking in churches from Seoul to Pusan. Among the tribal people of Pokot and Turkana, thank you didn’t come easily from many and non-existent for most. As a mzungu (white person) from the West, what I did for them was more expected than appreciated. It’s not that I need affirmation but I didn’t realize how nice it was to be valued until we visited Korea. The people of that country bowed and said kam sah hamnida to everything, all the time. They even thanked me for America’s part in the Korean war, though I was only four years old during those days in the early 1950’s.

In the early 1980’s I invited Dr. Kim to Kenya to speak to our pastors. He immediately asked me to teach him to say “thank you” in Swahili (which is asante). I thought it was interesting that the word he wanted to learn was one of appreciation. (I also told him the word for “toilet” was choo. He laughed and said that was a family name in his country.) What a wonderful culture that incorporates such an expression of respect in their language.


On this most recent visit to speak at the forty-fifth anniversary of the Bul Kwang Dong Bible Baptist Church I was reminded once again of the gracious spirit of the Korean people. Dr. Daniel Kim is a one of the nicest men I know, and it was a privilege to be invited to speak at their missions conference.

To Dr. Kim and the people of the Bible Baptist Church, let me say publicly, Kam sah hamnida. You were a great blessing to me this past week.

Korea

I am in Seoul this week, guest speaker for the 45th anniversary of the Bible Baptist Church. When the church was founded in 1961 there were about 1 million Christians in the country, 2% of its population. Forty-five years later there are 12 million Christians, 30% of the population. Korea, once a receiving nation of missionaries, now has the third highest missionary force, sending over 10,400 cross-cultural workers around the globe.

Its been said that when a Chinese goes to another country they start a restaurant. When a Japanese moves across the border they establish a business. When a Korean moves to another area they start a church. Not a bad reputation.

60 New Years

This will be my 60th New Year celebration. I obviously don’t remember my first one, as I was only two months old. That first New Year Harry Truman had just become the 33rd U.S. President after the death of FDR; I was living in California. My earliest memories of New Year’s Day is watching the Rose Parade on our black and white television and then spending the whole day glued to the tube watching college football. Those were the days when there was only the Orange, Sugar, Cotton and Rose Bowl’s, spaced out to end that afternoon on the west coast as there were no night games in the mid-1950’s. For an eight-year-old boy, it was about the best day of the year.

When we moved to Arkansas our standard of living dropped dramatically and one New Year’s Day was spent helping my dad on a construction job. I thought it was criminal to be working instead of sitting in front of the one-eyed monster eating Fritos and bean dip.

I preached my first sermon on New Year’s Eve, 1967 at what they called a “watch night” service. A tradition in our little Baptist church where we would gather at 8 p.m. to sing, eat and pray the New Year in. It was also a good time to let lay preachers and seminarians speak. I was a first year student in a Bible college and so they let me give it a try (after all, they had four hours to kill). I preached the whole book of Revelation in under thirty minutes.

New Year’s Day in Kenya was a bit dull. The kids were home from boarding school and Sandy usually made biscuit’s and chocolate gravy. No place to go in the small town we lived in. I’d listen to football games January 2nd on Armed Forces Radio.

Ten years ago I was in London with my friend Woody Phillips. He was living in Hungary at the time and we met there to look at a piece of property that the organization wanted to buy for a training school. The property was worthless but the time was well spent as I made a dear friend on that trip. We walked through Piccadilly Circus, found a quaint restaurant and watched fireworks. Woody and I had a lot in common and I valued his friendship. Wonder what we would have talked about if we knew he would be dead six years later?

This New Year’s day I will be in Seoul speaking at the Bul Kwang Dong Bible Baptist Church in Seoul, which has been a supporter for over twenty years. It will be cold and I don’t have winter clothes. Though a bit anxious, I count it a privilege to be asked to be the main speaker for their conference. I won’t be going through the events of Armageddon in a half an hour, but I will be just as excited to talk about my Savior as I was thirty-eight years ago.

A New Year. New opportunities. I wonder where I’ll be six years from now? If I live to see my 70th New Year’s, I wonder what the world will be like? The years really don’t matter, but each day that God gives me. I’m blessed. Happy New Year.

Merry Christmas

T’is the night before Christmas and all through our Delhi flat,
It’s so dang cold here, not a creature is stirring, not even a rat.

I look out the window, as the fog settles in,
And wonder if Jesus will be remembered in this world of sadness and sin?

With all the other gods the people do pray,
Will anyone remember why even celebrate this day?

I think of my kids, as they gather around their tree,
And pray for God blessing on them as they worship our Savior without Sandy and me.

We celebrate His birth with fellow believers tonight,
But I am reminded that our colleagues around the world are facing our same plight.

Grateful to God for His marvelous Grace,
It will be a wonderful Christmas without seeing jolly St. Nick’s face.

A poet I’m not, you no doubt agree by this time,
But it’s the thought that counts, not the uneven rhyme.

I just wanted to send out a greeting to all those we love,
And remember again our wonderful Lord and King above.

Merry Christmas.

Why Jimmy Quits

Years ago growing up in Los Angeles we use to play sandlot football. I stood in line, along with other kids, hoping to be picked to be on a good team. I liked being on the same team with Johnny Odom, a fat Japanese fifth grade kid, as he was almost unmovable. He was slow and clumsy, but if we needed short down yardage we would always give the ball to fat Johnny who, with his shiny blue and gold LA Rams helmet (the envy of us all), would squash the opposing team with ease.

Denny Dietrich was also a good guy to have on our side as he was wiry and strong. I liked playing against Chucky Green as he was as light as a feather and I could toss him around with ease. Jimmy Farmer was a bit of a whiner and usually got hurt every game we played. Jimmy was always the last kid to be picked. No one really liked him, but when you have to have enough kids to play a game you take whoever shows up.

On my walk this morning I thought about Jimmy as it relates to overseas teams. I have noticed that usually in every team situation there is a guy or a family that the rest of the team doesn’t really like. Maybe they are whiny or they have an irritating personality. Or, perhaps, they just don’t have that indefinable chemistry which determines if they will be insiders or outsiders within the group. Whatever the reason, there seems to be a Jimmy Farmer in every group.

Like Jimmy, this odd guy (or couple) volunteers for an assignment and the organization usually picks them, with reservation. Jimmy goes to the field and the team leader doesn’t like him and never really gives him the attention he gives to others on the team. Attitude always shows up, and even Jimmy knows he was picked out of necessity, not because they want him around. Before long, either by Jimmy or the organization, a decision is made to release him from the team. Jimmy goes home and everyone points fingers on whose fault it was that he didn’t make it. Sadly, someone usually blames God saying it was His will or they missed understanding His will. It’s common in Christian circles that when things don’t go according to plan we can always cover our mistakes by attributing the failure to a higher power.

So who is at fault for Jimmy’s failure? Certainly Jimmy bears a lot of the responsibility. If he is not gifted to play ball (or be on the field) he shouldn’t try. He should look for another game. If he insists on playing the game then he needs to work on not being such an irritant and work on his interpersonal skills.

The team and team owner also shares in Jimmy’s failure. If you don’t like the guy, don’t pick him to play on the team. If the team is going to accept him, then treat him like a full fledge member, don’t make his life so miserable that you force him to quit. In fact, given his difficult personality, the team will need to go the extra mile to make sure he does succeed. Anyone can coach a talented team. The coach of the year is the one who can take a less than talented group to the playoffs. It’s disingenuous to take the credit when things are going well, but blame Jimmy when the wheels fall off.

I wonder where Jimmy is now? I know he never played in the NFL, but bet the guy ended up doing all right playing another game. I’ve seen a lot of Jimmy’s leave the game overseas and though there are a myriad of reasons why they didn’t make it I’m certain it wasn’t God’s fault.

Daily Reminder

It’s 7 a.m. when I step outside for my daily walk. My rounds are always interesting, but even more so this time of the year. I live in a city of 12 million people and in the midst of the masses we live in a colony. Not really a suburb, nor a separate township, but a thirty square mile area of privately owned three story apartments. On my walk I pass the Hindu and Sikh temples, a few Hindu shrines and a park. The streets are not yet congested, but there are a few buses picking up school kids, auto rickshaws loaded with vegetables head for the market and cows eating from garbage bens. There are a few old people like me, getting their early morning exercise and servants walking the dogs of their owners. The street sweepers are out, usually women with straw brooms stirring dust as they rake up yesterday’s trash, which is considerable as everyone throws their trash on the ground

There is a film over the city this time of the year and the fog is thick. Plane and train travel is delayed because of the haze that has descended and between the pollution, dust and smoke from the fires of the homeless who try to stay warm through the night, if the sun shines at all it won’t break through the smog until noon.

Though I like living here, there is nothing aesthetically appealing to this place. My morning walks does not lend to spiritual inspiration, except for the reminder of God’s grace. Each morning I am reminded of man’s fallen condition and what an ugly place we have made of His creation.

I am reminded how blessed I am to have spent the night in warm bed instead of the cold concrete in a plastic tent next to the open sewer that I see every morning on my walk.

I’m reminded how shallow so many of us are in the West who measure life by the house we have or the one we would like to have and how that our service to Him are the leftovers. We would like to do more, but we just can’t afford it right now.

And, I’m reminded that, even though I am grateful for what I do have, whether it’s a modest flat or a mansion, in God’s eyes, it’s still a dump.

I long for that morning walk my Creator intended for me. A place where there is no fog and a river that is not polluted.

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Tending Sheep

In the late ‘70’s California Governor Jerry Brown, and his then girlfriend Linda Ronstandt, visited some tribal’s in northern Kenya. He observed the Samburu herders in the desert who, from sunup to sundown, just follow their grazing herds.

“Is that all they do everyday,” he asked in astonishment?

Well, yes, that’s all they do. Illiterate bushman have no book to read or cassette’s to listen to and their only activity is guarding their herds and leading them to grass and water.

This week I am tending sheep. That’s code for doing the mundane things of my work; preparing a paper I have been asked to submit to group of academic’s next month, putting in order messages for a conference in Korea in a couple of weeks, doing financial book work and reading. These projects are tedious for me. I was raised with a mindset that emphasized action and so if I’m not moving I’m not working. These days I don’t feel engaged, like I’m not doing anything significant.

On my daily early morning walk I was thinking about the life of shepherds. It’s indeed a monotonous life, looking at the same goats every day, herding the same cattle, looking at the same terrain. Their days are punctuated with excitement in throwing rocks at birds, practicing their skills with the bow and arrow and catching up with the latest gossip from fellow herders. On a really big day they may have to chase away a jackal or carry a newborn kid back to the kraal.

Such was the life of a guy named Abraham, Moses and David. Though the Scriptures highlight their rise to prominence, great faith and lasting reputation for all succeeding generations, prior to fame, they were just herders of sheep. The shepherds, 2,000 years ago, were just watching the flocks at night. No kraal for them, just open field, when the angelic host of heaven announced that the Messiah had been born in a barn in Bethlehem. Talking about breaking monotony!

Most of life is sheep tending. It may be a housewife taking care of the kids, a grad-student preparing for an exam, a carpenter doing a remodeling job. Much of life is mundane and sometimes tedious. But it’s in the droning of life that God does His best work. Not all shepherds end up leading His people out of Egypt. Not all caretakers of sheep kill lions and bears and grow up to sit on a throne. There were a lot of shepherds tending their flocks that night, the angels only appeared to few.

What will be the headline of my next newsletter to our supporters? “The Lion Didn’t Eat Me--Successfully Tended Sheep,” might work…but then they have to read this blog to understand it.

Time/Event and Christmas

The discussion on whether U.S. churches should have services on Christmas Day is interesting. I am torn between those who are unyielding to the world (secular, non-Christian) and maintain that they will have services; versus those who say they will yield to the reality of the day we live in and find Christmas alternatives. My Christian worldview tells me one thing, my missiology tells me something else. When you spend everyday trying to make the Gospel relevant in the context in which you live, I am uneasy about saying, “Forget about culture reality, the message is more important than the context,” because without context the message is irrelevant. However, I am equally uncomfortable with saying, “Ignore the ritualism of one day, as the message of Christ is more than once a year and must be lived daily,” because ritualism is a message that can transcend context. Both are right, both are wrong.

The reality is that both sides have a good argument. You can make a strong Christian witness statement by holding church services on Christmas Day. A faithful few will show up, partly because of their desire to be in the Lord’s house on that special day; partly so they can self-righteously feel superior to those who don’t show up. Those who will not have Christmas services will do so because they feel it is only an issue if we make it so, will have celebrated Christmas with the church members before the 25th in many other forms, and partly because they, too, don’t want to be inconvenienced by splitting up their day between family and a religious gathering.

Of course, in many parts of the world, the matter on whether to meet is simply not up for debate. For most Christians in developing countries, or where followers of Jesus are in the minority, there is only one place a Christian will be on Christmas day, whether it falls on a Sunday or a Thursday, and that’s in church.

One reason Christmas is viewed differently is cultural perception of time and event. In the West, Christmas is time activity. To take out time to get the kids dressed, drive to church, have a one-hour service, breaks up the time day. When will we open presents? Will we make it over to Grandma’s house for dinner? Christmas is a time dilemma; it’s an inconvenient time for a church service.

For event-oriented cultures, Christmas is not confined to a segment of the day but is an all day happening. When you are a minority group it’s an event to be noticed, even if that means further persecution. It would be unthinkable NOT to go to church on the special event celebrating Christ’s birth.

So what’s the answer, to have church services or not to have church services this December 25th? There is no universal answer. It’s a matter of personal preference, conviction and culture. I know what I will be doing on that day, but I wouldn’t assume to dictate my preference onto others. It’s negotiable…not an issue I will die for, nor break fellowship with others who hold a different view.

Brick and Mortar

As I toured the campus I was impressed with the complex. This national institution has been around for many years and has significant funding. As I spoke to the chapel of 1,000 students it is clear that the vision of the founder is unquestioned and I have nothing but admiration for this brother who has made a significant contribution for the Kingdom. On closer inspection of the premises it was apparent that perhaps the vision is maybe a bit of overkill as many of the massive structures are underused. But, this brother keeps building because people from the West are enamored with construction and continue to fund an already impressive ministry.

There’s something uniquely human about the need to build edifices. From the days of the Tower of Babel, Pharaoh’s pyramids to Saddam’s many presidential palaces, we seem to have a lust for building monuments to ourselves. The Church has always had a love affair with brick and mortar as it something people can see and touch. One of the motivations for buildings, as Gluckman wrote about 40 years ago (Politics, law and ritual in tribal society) is because of status… “Particular kinds of property are valued in terms of their roles in status relations.” Whether it is the car we drive, the house we live in or the church we attend, our worth is derived from property status.

There is, of course, nothing inherently wrong with property as long as it is balanced. There is, however, something unseemly about conspicuous production. In some cases production is about power and the desire to move upward in community status. Envy is another motivation for property. Dominated by the “market,” people around the world labor to lift their status and keep up with the Jones’s or the Jain’s. Sometimes the Church also tears down barns to build bigger barns motivated by envy and to maintain a presence of status, either in their communities or among their peers.

A pastor friend of mine was in the process of a one million dollar capital campaign but confided in me, “I’m uneasy about this project. We need some more classroom space, but our church really isn’t growing and I wonder if it is really wise to go into this kind of a debt just to have a new facility?” He eventually compromised and built for the congregation’s need, not its wants.

The fine balance between use-value of property and symbol-value is an interesting study. Since the erection of monuments has been around since time began it’s not something that is going pass away, until, of course, time itself passes.