For anyone that has experienced an earthquake or have had a love one touched by a terrifying event you will resonate with the tragedy in Haiti. I remember my first encounter with an earthquake. I was at home with my family and we were eager to watch the SF Giants take on the Oakland A's in the 1989 World Series. Al Michaela & Tim McCarver were setting the stage for game three of 1989 baseball classic, when all of a sudden the cameras began shaking and the screen blipped. Only the audio could be heard as a still image filled the screen. The announcers bumbles the broadcast for a moment before the reality of a 7.1 earthqauke sunk in. The cameras began to show a light standard teetering and cries of the unknown from the 60000 fans that filled the air of Candlestick Park. I distinctvely remember one of the baseball players walking among the crowd holding tight to his son. Shortly after the images of a truck disappearing into a collapsed section of the Bay Bridge and the collapsed building in the marine district filled the TV screen. Helicopters showed the nimitz freeway in shambles.
All of my aunts uncles cousins and grandparents live in the Bay Area and we were consumed with fear and hopelessness as we frantically attempted to discover how our loves ones were. One uncle commuted daily across that same section of the Bay Bridge that collapsed the another frequently traversed the nimitz, now in shambles. We didn't hear from my cousin studying in San Fran until late in the evening. Images of destruction, announcements of death, plumes of fire and flame seen through the broadcasts that evening is forever etched in my mind. Even though I was disappointed by the fact that my beloved Giants lost the World Series, the reality of the tragedy that October night pales any sporting event. It is in the wake of this horrific catastrophe that envelopes the impoverished nation of Haiti which has sent my mind back to 1989.
Even now I think of my sister (in law) that lives in Port au Prince, thankful that she is safe, but heavy-hearted with the loss of life and livlihood that fills the night skies. Tomorrow we will read stories about seismological predictions ignored, chaos that fills the streets of dermas, and the assessment of talking heads wondering why aid is taking so long to reach the shores of the island nation. Those broadcasts are inevitable, the nature of 24-7 media coverage. But the question and topic that will rise to the top of many a conversation is, "why do bad things happen?" especially when we consider the location of this natural disaster. If being the poorest nation in the Western hemisphere isn't enough, these people have to suffer once again. Where is God in all this? Why could he let this happen? These questions will show up on blogs, tweets, facebook, and txt msgs. Some will say it is the wrath of God poured out on the evil voodoo worshippers; some will complain that the world powers and the UN didnt do enough to lift this poor nation out of poverty so they could better handle this earthquake; others will say this is just another example of global warming, "we are paying for the sins of abuse we have inflicted on mother earth." Why did this happen? Who is to blame?
I am ever amazed that very few face this horrible event straight on to seek and discover ways to bring good out of such horror. I don't know why a mother will now be childless tonite. I do not know why a sister will be spared and a brother forever asleep. However I have a sense of hope. A dark cloud filled the air one night 2000 years ago. Lightening flashed and the earth shook. Despair filled the hearts of young and old alike. How innocence could be be killed by the machine of injustice is unfathomable. Yet, this I know, the Emmanuel, the crucified one, and the resurrected one is the light in the midst of even the darkest Haitian day, here on the 13th of January 2010. All I know is that love reached into the jaws of death, love faced evil, love experiences pain and suffering. A father lost his only Son, a mother wept over the battered and bruises body of her first born, a friend and comrade was gone evermore?
Yet, every bleak and blackened night must give way to the ray filled heavens of the morning sun. On that particular morning when the cave was empty and the tears dried, it was found that death had no sting, the darkness would fade, and morning star would shine evermore. The Son of God, Jesus Christ never denied pain and suffering, he never ignored the oppressed and the marginalized. Rather he stepped into our sad estate and walked the dusty road with us; he took the burden of tyranny on his shoulders, and bore the stripes and bruises inflicted by the most evil one. And yet he still stands victorious!
Why & how bad things happen to the just and unjust, the poor and rich alike is up for debate. But this one thing I know, my faith, hope, and trust in the risen Lord, Jesus Christ is the means whereby anyone can live amidst all the storms of life. He will never leave or forsake, no matter the valley low or mountain high. He is a rock, a refuge, a strong tower, and green pasture, a rod and staff by which I can rest my weary soul. My prayer is that this hope and light can shine bright and strong over the days, months, and years that follow this earthquake in the nation of Haiti.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Not quite heretic, but more than just in error
I used to have this terrible habit of labeling someone/something, especially when it comes to politics and religion. I have officially decided that political discussions are by and large useless. We all have our opinions, which are more like hard-fast convictions that rarely consider adjustment. All the talk of being bi-partisan is ridiculous and in the end, most everyone refuses to budge and everyone agrees to disagree. As it relates to religion, to have a proper discussion all involved should have a few moments to est. their presuppositions and semantics that will guide their arguments. This would save much hassle and frustration and allow all parties to get to the heart of the discussions.
Of course, most "discussions" get to the agree-to-disagree conclusions, but a few conclusions leave a few persons rather perplexed or befuddled with a certain individual or group.
What do you do when you are faced with such an awkward situation. You really want to call them some generic name or label, but to do so often fails to create closure. Granted some people prefer the terms "extremist", "liberal", "conservative", or "heretic". I just can't go there right away. I need some wiggle room in regards to my judgments. So, after giving this some considerable thought, mainly b/c i have been labelled as such or do the labeling, I have come up with a term that is quite satisfactory, imho. and the word is Eresy or eritic.
For me, this term doesn't go as far as to say someone is a heritic, liberal, extremist, or conservative, yet it makes the observation that the person is a little bit more than off, they are in error. I am not ready to kick them off the island or disregard them all together, but i am really close. It says the jury is still out, I am willing to reserve judgment, or let's keep 'em around b/c it livens the discussion.
It also provides an opportunity for the person(s) to reconsider their positions and give a little more thought. Perhaps they are immature, young, or limited in their worldview. It could be anything, but most of all it keeps the lines of communication open, at the same time identifying dangerous territory in the dynamics of the discussion.
Try it on for size and let me know what you think.
Of course, most "discussions" get to the agree-to-disagree conclusions, but a few conclusions leave a few persons rather perplexed or befuddled with a certain individual or group.
What do you do when you are faced with such an awkward situation. You really want to call them some generic name or label, but to do so often fails to create closure. Granted some people prefer the terms "extremist", "liberal", "conservative", or "heretic". I just can't go there right away. I need some wiggle room in regards to my judgments. So, after giving this some considerable thought, mainly b/c i have been labelled as such or do the labeling, I have come up with a term that is quite satisfactory, imho. and the word is Eresy or eritic.
For me, this term doesn't go as far as to say someone is a heritic, liberal, extremist, or conservative, yet it makes the observation that the person is a little bit more than off, they are in error. I am not ready to kick them off the island or disregard them all together, but i am really close. It says the jury is still out, I am willing to reserve judgment, or let's keep 'em around b/c it livens the discussion.
It also provides an opportunity for the person(s) to reconsider their positions and give a little more thought. Perhaps they are immature, young, or limited in their worldview. It could be anything, but most of all it keeps the lines of communication open, at the same time identifying dangerous territory in the dynamics of the discussion.
Try it on for size and let me know what you think.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
How Sweet the Name
I ran across this song as I was reading the bible today (conveniently I was in the text--Jer. 31-11-14). I could write more regarding the words that resound in my deep but I shall let them speak for themselves
What would I have become
If you’d never stopped to pull me through
What would this life had done
If you’d never whispered liberty
I heard you sing so sweetly a song of love
Jesus how sweet the name
The name that saves
Jesus how sweet the sound
The sound of grace
The sound of praise
The sound that saves
So many songs I’ve sung
But there’s none more beautiful than you
And here I’ve found myself
So I’m happy to be lost in you
I hear you sing so sweetly, a song called love
Every soul needs a saviour
If you want to hear the song, go to this website:
www.jesusfreakhideout.com/LYRICS/new/track.asp?track_id=9835
What would I have become
If you’d never stopped to pull me through
What would this life had done
If you’d never whispered liberty
I heard you sing so sweetly a song of love
Jesus how sweet the name
The name that saves
Jesus how sweet the sound
The sound of grace
The sound of praise
The sound that saves
So many songs I’ve sung
But there’s none more beautiful than you
And here I’ve found myself
So I’m happy to be lost in you
I hear you sing so sweetly, a song called love
Every soul needs a saviour
If you want to hear the song, go to this website:
www.jesusfreakhideout.com/LYRICS/new/track.asp?track_id=9835
Saturday, February 14, 2009
More posts coming later
Sorry these are so late, wish I had more time to give newer posts. Perhaps in the next day or so.
Thanks again for all you prayers. We have many services to attend over the next two days.
Hope this weekend goes well for everyone!
Thanks again for all you prayers. We have many services to attend over the next two days.
Hope this weekend goes well for everyone!
Feb 9th
On Monday, our plane departure was scheduled for 430a, but we are being acclimated to IST (Indian Standard Time). These sort of things allow stretch our need to be more flexible in the midst of our to-do lists and nicely ordered world.
Upon arrival to Nagpur we hit the ground running. Our dear friend Samuel and the gracious Ashok met us the at the airport and whisked us to a ministry center, where we enjoyed song, prayer, and short devotion. I must say the hospitality of the Indian people is first class. They are gracious and humble servants. They always put others first and top the whole experience with zest of amazing chai, delectable fruit, and even tasty biscuits (cookies).
We all agreed that Nagpur is not nearly as chaotic as Mumbai. It was refreshing to see some semblance of order and a glimpse of respect for traffic etiquette. Granted this moments were few and far in between, but the flashes of light through the throngs of vehicles were welcome relief.
Having left Mumbai early, introduced to fellow servants of Christ, as well as seeing a large portion of Nagpur it was nice to sit down for lunch. Our lunch took place at a little restaurant called “Planet Food.” (Not to be mistaken with Planet HollyWood, or its cousin, Planet BollyWood). Naan, Fanta, Dosa, Tomato soup, and something else I can't remember the name filled our palette. We also were introduced to one of Pastor Eric's favorite desserts, Barfee. It was interesting; kinda reminded me of Applets and Cotlets, but after one I had enough. Surprising enough some in our group were not brave enough to taste barfee, we will not name, names, but I am sure you can guess who.
If our journey for the day was not enough, we drove another hour or two and arrived at Ghandi's Ashram. As a curious onlooker of Ghandi's life, it was worth the opportunity to tour his former abode. I must say I was surprised that it had the feel of a western ghosttown and a museum. I mean no disrespect, but the place was lifeless. It was like the model of living he exuded and practiced never left the walls of this center of non-violent, non-cooperation. As a matter of fact, Pastor Samuel informed me that many Indians hold him in high regard, but believe that the religious and life principles he fought so dearly to bring into the culture of India, was by and large, unrealistic and unattainable. Upon hearing that assessment, it reconfirmed the reality that no matter the attempts of humanity to be righteous on their own accord it will be met with discontent, disappointment, and disillusionment.
And yet our day was not complete until we travelled another hour or so to arrive at a FM hostel in a town called Yoatmal. This town is where our driver Gope and our host Ashok live. Granted this was an eventful and meaningful day, we were spent and grateful for a bed and shower.
Of course the summary of each day would not be complete without a “brief” assessment of an intriguing moment.
Now I am trying to complain, show dis-respect, or be ungrateful for the services of our driver and new friend, Mr. Gope but you must hear what it is like to drive in the countryside of India. It is like nothing your could ever imagine, view through pictures or the cinema. In all honesty my words will be a finite attempt, yet I still desire t to paint a picture in your minds eye.
Apparently travel in India is very slow, they have very few flyovers (highways) and so those with the means take the train, bus, or plane to major destinations. Everyone else must embark on a death defying roadtrip to desired destination. And this is not any roadtrip, it can be two blocks down the street, or in our case 100km south of Nagpur. Friends, I have never seen my life flash before my eyes so many times in such a short period of time. I mentioned before the pecking order of travel in the city, but on the county road, another wrench is thrown into the mix, the sacred cow (now you know where that term came from). You must keep in mind that Hindu's worship the cow and believe the god Brahim, incarnated himself into the world where his spirit found its place in the stomach of a cow. Don't ask me why, that is just what they say (if this bried summary is not entirely accurate or needs further explanation, Pstr Eric is available to provide clarification)
Anyhow, the cow rules the road and everyone must give way. This makes for terrifying travel and funny ha-ha's. Terrifying b/c sometimes you are playing chicken with a motorcycle, a pedestrian, a rickshaw, a bus, and/ or a bicycle (remember the pecking order of the road found in previous posts). You think you are in the clear by mere centimeters, when all of a sudden a cow decides that its life is not worth living and attempts to commit suicide by throwing its hulking body, ten-foot wide horns and all into the convoluted mass of chaos we have dubbed, “driving.” Of course all modes of transportation mash on the brakes, close their eyes, hold on to dear life, and recite a prayer before they step into eternity. Surprisingly this terrifying experience turns out OK and you venture off into another death defying feat called, “driving the country roads of India.” I realize that I am being a tad mellow-dramatic, but many times you wonder if that car next you will move into your lane, the motor bike will move one inch to the right, and the pedestrian will take one more step. Thankfully we have been blessed with an experienced driver that has taken Bishops, Superintendents, Pstr Eric, and many others across the great land of India. We also have your prayers, so we are in good hands. And for those of that are really concerned pray some more, value the road system in America and just laugh. That is what have learned—laugh, pray, think of family, good things, etc—what else can you do when you drive within feet, sometimes inches, of meeting Jesus?
Upon arrival to Nagpur we hit the ground running. Our dear friend Samuel and the gracious Ashok met us the at the airport and whisked us to a ministry center, where we enjoyed song, prayer, and short devotion. I must say the hospitality of the Indian people is first class. They are gracious and humble servants. They always put others first and top the whole experience with zest of amazing chai, delectable fruit, and even tasty biscuits (cookies).
We all agreed that Nagpur is not nearly as chaotic as Mumbai. It was refreshing to see some semblance of order and a glimpse of respect for traffic etiquette. Granted this moments were few and far in between, but the flashes of light through the throngs of vehicles were welcome relief.
Having left Mumbai early, introduced to fellow servants of Christ, as well as seeing a large portion of Nagpur it was nice to sit down for lunch. Our lunch took place at a little restaurant called “Planet Food.” (Not to be mistaken with Planet HollyWood, or its cousin, Planet BollyWood). Naan, Fanta, Dosa, Tomato soup, and something else I can't remember the name filled our palette. We also were introduced to one of Pastor Eric's favorite desserts, Barfee. It was interesting; kinda reminded me of Applets and Cotlets, but after one I had enough. Surprising enough some in our group were not brave enough to taste barfee, we will not name, names, but I am sure you can guess who.
If our journey for the day was not enough, we drove another hour or two and arrived at Ghandi's Ashram. As a curious onlooker of Ghandi's life, it was worth the opportunity to tour his former abode. I must say I was surprised that it had the feel of a western ghosttown and a museum. I mean no disrespect, but the place was lifeless. It was like the model of living he exuded and practiced never left the walls of this center of non-violent, non-cooperation. As a matter of fact, Pastor Samuel informed me that many Indians hold him in high regard, but believe that the religious and life principles he fought so dearly to bring into the culture of India, was by and large, unrealistic and unattainable. Upon hearing that assessment, it reconfirmed the reality that no matter the attempts of humanity to be righteous on their own accord it will be met with discontent, disappointment, and disillusionment.
And yet our day was not complete until we travelled another hour or so to arrive at a FM hostel in a town called Yoatmal. This town is where our driver Gope and our host Ashok live. Granted this was an eventful and meaningful day, we were spent and grateful for a bed and shower.
Of course the summary of each day would not be complete without a “brief” assessment of an intriguing moment.
Now I am trying to complain, show dis-respect, or be ungrateful for the services of our driver and new friend, Mr. Gope but you must hear what it is like to drive in the countryside of India. It is like nothing your could ever imagine, view through pictures or the cinema. In all honesty my words will be a finite attempt, yet I still desire t to paint a picture in your minds eye.
Apparently travel in India is very slow, they have very few flyovers (highways) and so those with the means take the train, bus, or plane to major destinations. Everyone else must embark on a death defying roadtrip to desired destination. And this is not any roadtrip, it can be two blocks down the street, or in our case 100km south of Nagpur. Friends, I have never seen my life flash before my eyes so many times in such a short period of time. I mentioned before the pecking order of travel in the city, but on the county road, another wrench is thrown into the mix, the sacred cow (now you know where that term came from). You must keep in mind that Hindu's worship the cow and believe the god Brahim, incarnated himself into the world where his spirit found its place in the stomach of a cow. Don't ask me why, that is just what they say (if this bried summary is not entirely accurate or needs further explanation, Pstr Eric is available to provide clarification)
Anyhow, the cow rules the road and everyone must give way. This makes for terrifying travel and funny ha-ha's. Terrifying b/c sometimes you are playing chicken with a motorcycle, a pedestrian, a rickshaw, a bus, and/ or a bicycle (remember the pecking order of the road found in previous posts). You think you are in the clear by mere centimeters, when all of a sudden a cow decides that its life is not worth living and attempts to commit suicide by throwing its hulking body, ten-foot wide horns and all into the convoluted mass of chaos we have dubbed, “driving.” Of course all modes of transportation mash on the brakes, close their eyes, hold on to dear life, and recite a prayer before they step into eternity. Surprisingly this terrifying experience turns out OK and you venture off into another death defying feat called, “driving the country roads of India.” I realize that I am being a tad mellow-dramatic, but many times you wonder if that car next you will move into your lane, the motor bike will move one inch to the right, and the pedestrian will take one more step. Thankfully we have been blessed with an experienced driver that has taken Bishops, Superintendents, Pstr Eric, and many others across the great land of India. We also have your prayers, so we are in good hands. And for those of that are really concerned pray some more, value the road system in America and just laugh. That is what have learned—laugh, pray, think of family, good things, etc—what else can you do when you drive within feet, sometimes inches, of meeting Jesus?
Feb 8th
Sunday was a good day. We attended two services and were privileged to spend lunch and the afternoon with Pastor Sheresh. We were also able to attend a bible study in his home. As much as Sunday was a day full of adventure, worship, food, and fellowship, it was so refreshing to commune with dear brothers and sisters of the faith. Following lunch we had the chance to rest. Ron and I particularly enjoyed the beds that were offered to our weary bodies. I had such an amazing nap I believe I was suspended in the tranquility of God's presence which covered Sheresh's home. Eric said I was sleeping so well (and loud) that I must have been in 9th level of REM. Whatever it was I felted refreshed. Perhaps Eric will disclose a picture of my Sunday nap, which can be viewed for a price. All royalties will go directly to me :)
In all seriousness, Sunday was a blessed day and we experienced diverse array of God's family communing in worship, praising our Lord, and celebrating our Savior in unity and love.
In all seriousness, Sunday was a blessed day and we experienced diverse array of God's family communing in worship, praising our Lord, and celebrating our Savior in unity and love.
Saturday Feb. 7th
Sorry this is so later, limited internet time
Imagine for one moment with me...it is your wedding day, the flowers are everywhere, the tables are adorned in beauty, the decorations of the banqueting area is memorable, all your family and friends are in attendance, the parents have given their blessings, you have said your vows, you have kissed the bride, and as they ready to announce you as Mr. And Mrs. “Smith” the speakers bellow a familiar tune which the theme song to “Star Wars.” Yes, you heard that right, the first moments as a happy couple are rung in by John Williams,' da da da da, daaaa da, da, da, da, da, daaa, da, duh, duh, duh, duhhhhh
That my friends was viewed by our Lakeside team as we returned from Domino's having consumed three cheese blast pizzas and walking by a New Year Party, Indian style (and a month late???). Needless, to say our stereo-types of what Indian culture was thrown into a tailspin. I wish I could say the Catholic-Indian wedding resumed some esmblance of a “traditional” Indian culture, as our generalized perspective had created in our minds eye, but it was to no avail. The next two hours were filled with interesting DJ comments, toasts from friends and family, and unexpected musical songs and artist, such as: Randy Travis, Richie Vallens (sp?), Elvis, Smokey Robinson, Billy Ray Cyrus, and my favorite, the Chicken Dance, without a verse left out (video soon to be posted). It was definitely not what I would have expected from an India wedding, but most of my memorable times here have not been what I would have expected. Thank God for the tapestry of his beautiful creation.
I must say India has to be one of the coolest places I have ever visited, I wish you could join us. Not just for the eye opening cultural revelations filled with American songs and fireworks, but the ways and means by which the gospel of Christ can be made known in every facet, highway and byway of God's beautiful, yet marred creation.
Thank you so much for prayers and I miss seeing you all very much. Grace and peace.
Imagine for one moment with me...it is your wedding day, the flowers are everywhere, the tables are adorned in beauty, the decorations of the banqueting area is memorable, all your family and friends are in attendance, the parents have given their blessings, you have said your vows, you have kissed the bride, and as they ready to announce you as Mr. And Mrs. “Smith” the speakers bellow a familiar tune which the theme song to “Star Wars.” Yes, you heard that right, the first moments as a happy couple are rung in by John Williams,' da da da da, daaaa da, da, da, da, da, daaa, da, duh, duh, duh, duhhhhh
That my friends was viewed by our Lakeside team as we returned from Domino's having consumed three cheese blast pizzas and walking by a New Year Party, Indian style (and a month late???). Needless, to say our stereo-types of what Indian culture was thrown into a tailspin. I wish I could say the Catholic-Indian wedding resumed some esmblance of a “traditional” Indian culture, as our generalized perspective had created in our minds eye, but it was to no avail. The next two hours were filled with interesting DJ comments, toasts from friends and family, and unexpected musical songs and artist, such as: Randy Travis, Richie Vallens (sp?), Elvis, Smokey Robinson, Billy Ray Cyrus, and my favorite, the Chicken Dance, without a verse left out (video soon to be posted). It was definitely not what I would have expected from an India wedding, but most of my memorable times here have not been what I would have expected. Thank God for the tapestry of his beautiful creation.
I must say India has to be one of the coolest places I have ever visited, I wish you could join us. Not just for the eye opening cultural revelations filled with American songs and fireworks, but the ways and means by which the gospel of Christ can be made known in every facet, highway and byway of God's beautiful, yet marred creation.
Thank you so much for prayers and I miss seeing you all very much. Grace and peace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)