W.E MOJs

My MOJ for the weekend was visiting the Phnom Penh water park for the first time. The park has a serveral pools & slides for kids of all ages and has been desribed by one short-term team member as "pretty good for a third world theme park!"

The group I was with comprised of 12 people over 20 and 6 young kids (5 years and under).

One of the big kids and I had a great time on the slides- running past the twelve year olds to get to the top first- being laughed at by security guards for our lack of composure- trying various kinds of slide moves and generally outdoing the teenagers in our stupidity.

I also loved playing with some of the little kids. A two year old was a little grieved at the end of the afternoon when play time was up and we had to go home. Her mum told me she was looking around repeating the question, "Where's my Pip? Where's my Pip?" Awww.....

Response to Mark's story

The SMH reported that on May 15 2006, a 47 year old Kiwi named Mark Inglis became the first double amputee to climb Mount Everest. Equipped with carbon-fibre prosthetics, a lifelong passion for climbing and a support group of 20 people, Inglis conquered the 8 850 metre peak. The initial reports had nothing but praise for his achievement. They added that the expedition is expected to raise several hundred thousand dollars for a Cambodian centre that provides rehabilitation for landmine amputees, polio victims and other disabled people.

More recently, however, the press releases have been soured with the revelation that Inglis passed a dying British climber on his way to the top. 34 year old David Sharp had apparently run out of oxygen and was huddling in a cave some 300 metres below the summit.

Mark Inglis and his group claimed that they tried to help Sharp but that there was nothing they could do. He and about 40 other climbers who were on their way to the top of Everest simply kept going, leaving Sharp to die.

This tragic event reminds me of a story Jesus told about some people on the road to Jericho who did nothing wrong. But they didn't stop to help a dying man.

And I wonder if there have been times when I've unknowingly done exactly the same thing.

Yesterday I passed another person bent down, searching through the rubbish as I went to worship with my friends. I hardly noticed him. His presence didn't even fully register with me until I was talking about doing right and stopping for the dying when his crouched form flashed through my mind.
There were certainly no guarantees that Inglis or his party would have been able to save Sharp's life. They would have been putting themselves at risk in doing so. But it makes me question what is it with the climbing community that makes it OK to simply pass by a dying man? Why would 40 out of 40 people make that same decision, each with their various ways of rationalizing their decision?

Are there times when I, too, am so inculturated into the mindset of particular subcultures that I become blind to what is just, right and merciful?

Inglis achieved his goal which could be described as ambitious, if not seemingly impossible. Yet he missed the opportunity to possibly save someone's life.

Are there times when we are so focused on our goals that we miss out on the important things? Are we blind to people's needs because we think of nothing else but getting to the top?

I noticed at my friend's place yesterday that they had stocked up on milk. There was a pile of about 20 UHT boxes on their kitchen table. This is the way they have chosen to respond to people who beg. This is one practical way they can stop.

Likewise, in many various ways, little, local ways... may our eyes be opened so that we do more than simply pass by.

A Psalm 10 Day

I'm having a Psalm 10 day today...when it feels like the corrupt win and the only hope is for God to bust in and break some arms. This is a mixed-up, edited version of the Psalm taken from the New Living Translation-

O LORD, why do you stand so far away?
Proud and wicked people viciously oppress the poor.
They brag about their evil desires;
they praise the greedy and curse the LORD.

They seem to think that God is dead.
Yet they succeed in everything they do.

They say to themselves, “God isn’t watching!
Nothing bad will ever happen to us!
He will never notice!
We will be free of trouble forever!"

The helpless are overwhelmed and collapse;
they fall beneath the strength of the wicked.

Break the arms of these wicked, evil people!
Go after them!
Do not forget the helpless!
You are the defender of orphans.

You do see the trouble and grief.
You take note of it.

LORD, you know the hopes of the helpless.
Surely you will listen to their cries and comfort them.
You will bring justice to the orphans and the oppressed.
The helpless put their trust in you.

He called out...

"Later Jesus appeared again to the disciples beside the Sea of Galilee. This is how it happened. Several of the disciples were there--Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples.
Simon Peter said, "I'm going fishing."
"We'll come, too," they all said. So they went...
At dawn the disciples saw Jesus standing on the beach, but they couldn't see who he was. He called out..." (from John 21:1-5)

I agree with Maggie that Simon Peter gets a lot of negative spin for going back to fishing. Sometimes I find that when I've been fed one punchline for long enough it is hard to think of a more helpful alternative. Here's one:

"I don't find much solace in meditating on whether it was an indication of despair or bad faith that made Simon go back to his fishing nets. More to the point is what happened when he did: he was found by Jesus. Here's the moment of solace - when you are lost, and don't know what to do next, no matter whether you wait in the religious space for Jesus, or whether you go back to your everyday situation, he will find you there. Let's face it, most of the time we have no idea what the "right" thing to do is, let alone whether it has God's seal of approval. Most of the time we make the best decisions we can manage at the time, and get on with it. Some of the time we barely even make a decision, life just happens to us. But the point is that it's not up to us to find God, it's God who will find us. And his finding us doesnt' depend upon us being in the "right" place. Whether you make a good decision, a bad decision or just a humdrum everyday OK decision, wherever it lands you, He will find you there. And when he does, he will restore you, bless you, and give you your breakfast."

Grocery Shopping

I remember those Saturday mornings when mum came home from grocery shopping. I was always happy to head outside and help bring the shopping bags from the boot of the car. This was partly to help mum. However, I must admit that I liked to inspect the supplies as they were dumped on the dining room table. Did she remember my favourite cereal? What flavour yoghurt would we be eating this week? Any special cakes or snacks?

Last night I did my first big grocery shop for 2006. I spent just over ten bucks. I bought:

1 small loaf of brown bread
1kg of brown, organic rice
800g of oatmeal
300g sultanas
6X250mL of UHT soy milk
2 small tins of tuna
1 small tin of baked beans
3 plastic boxes to store food

Bringing home the above groceries sparked much discussion. Every item was inspected, commented on and questions pointed at me. What's this? Beans. What's that? Soy milk. So, did you put the soy milk in your backpack to carry it home? Yes. What is this? I'm not sure of the name in Khmer but we cook it in a similar way to rice porridge. Most people eat it at breakfast. Why did you buy this strange rice? It is good for health. Why did you buy the boxes? To store the food. Oh, that's a good idea. Can I help you take the wrapping from the boxes? Yes.

I heated the beans and four people joined me sitting on the floor around the single bowl. I ate with a spoon and my room-mates dipped bread into the beans to taste this "strange" food. More discussion, more questions....All over ten bucks of groceries.

Vintage

This is a 1959-1962 version of the moto I ride. I reckon it still looks hot.

Poetry

We had scheduled a team social event for Saturday last weekend. But last week as the date loomed there wasn't any final decision about what we should do. I contributed two ideas:

1. Hire some 250cc dirt-bikes and give them a bash on some of the dirt roads outside of Phnom Penh.
2. Put on a progressive dinner with poetry reading.

The poetry option won. Everyone had to bring two poems to read to the group throughout the evening. Some were original poems. Some were classics. All were very good.

There's a poem by Anna McKenzie that really resonates with me but I didn't end up reading out. Below is just an excerpt. Click here if you want to read the whole thing.

...We did not want it easy God,
but we did not contemplate
that it would be quite this hard,this long, this lonely.

...We are not fighting you God,
even if it feels like it,
but we need your help and company,
as we struggle on.
Fighting backand starting over.

learningtoreadagain

theresagroupfromvictoriaaustralia whoaskedmeforsomescannedtextinkhmerrecently. theywonderedwhetherthewordswerejoinedtogether orjustreallyreallylong. thecorrectansweris thattheyarejoined withsomespaces. butthespacesare prettymuch wherevertheauthor wantstoputhem. ithinkitwouldbe cool iftherewas the same kindoffreedomwithspelling.... whenlotsof thewordsare unfamiliar itishardtofigureoutwhereonewordfinishes andthenextonestarts. butitdoesgeteasier!

Sunday Sleep

How well do you have to know someone before you can take a nap on their couch?

On Saturday night I didn’t sleep well. Correction- on Saturday night I slept very well after about 4am. Before that time I was forced to find other alternatives such as reading, revising language vocab, walking up and down the lounge room a few hundred times and praying. By 7am on Sunday morning, most of my room-mates were already up.... so I soon followed. A couple of hours later I was sitting in church in the stuffy heat of the hottest time of the year, struggling to keep my eyes open during the sermon.

After church, I decided to run some errands. I had borrowed a blender the night before from a friend so I took that back to her place. We sat and talked for a while. Finally, I said, “I’d better go and take a rest. I’m tired.” My friend simply pointed to the couch I was sitting on and said, “Go ahead.” So I did. I stretched out with a cushion under my head and slept for nearly three hours. When I finally woke, I didn’t hear, “You call that a nap?” My friend didn’t criticise me for my excessive noonday sleeping. Instead she asked, “You hungry? I’ve got some leftovers...”

How many houses are there in your area where you could feel OK about taking a nap? Perhaps this depends partly on whether or not you are a napper?

For me, I need to know my host reasonably well. I need an invitation. (I’d feel a bit embarrassed if they invited me in for a cuppa and five minutes into the chat I was fast asleep...) I wouldn’t want to feel as though I was intruding or disturbing their household routine.

Last night I realised that May 7 is Good Shepherd Sunday. As I read the texts it was cool to think I had just received a lesson in the Shepherd’s care. “The LORD is my shepherd; I have everything I need. He lets me rest” (Psalm 23:1-2a.) He feeds me and he leads me. He renews and protects me. He anoints and blesses me. The Good Shepherd provided a couch in Phnom Penh yesterday and I was happy to stretch out on it.

Another aspect of the Shepherd’s heart is to find lost sheep. In Matthew 18, Jesus tells the story of the Shepherd who leaves his ninety-nine in order to search for the one who has gone missing. In John 10, Jesus contrasts the behaviour of a hired hand to that of the Good Shepherd. The hired hand runs away at the first sign of danger, leaving the sheep exposed. The wolf attacks and the sheep scatter. But the Good Shepherd stays. He is willing to sacrifice his own life to protect the lambs he loves.

Isaiah tells us that the Shepherd is particularly concerned for the poor. “I will feel the poor in my pasture; the needy will lie down in peace.” (Isaiah 14:30.) His heart is to strengthen the weak, bind up the injured, protect the vulnerable and guide the lost. He promises to feel the hungry in rich pastures.

Monday is here already and I’m not sure if you will get a chance to lie down and rest in the way that I did yesterday. (Perhaps you still think of daytime sleeps as only for pre-school kids?) In any case, may you find some way to receive the God Shepherd’s rest. Furthermore, may the Good Shepherd equip us with everything necessary for seeking the wanderers and pasturing the poor.

Preaching It

For a number of years preaching was a standard item on my job description. More recently, however, I've traded the pulpit for the pew. I've come under the leadership of a local Khmer church as a learner and a slowly-emerging participant. I've become a semi-regular at an international church. I stopped preaching and started writing this blog instead....

Yesterday I preached for the first time in a long time. I'd love to be able to say I preached in Khmer, but my language ability isn't there yet. I was invited to speak at the monthly bilingual youth service at my local church.

Previously, I was very critical of anyone who wanted to preach in English to Khmer people. But if it is done well, preaching with an interpreter may have a place. Many of the Cambodian students are studying English and a bilingual service this gives them an opportunity to practice listening. Similarly, the foreigners who come are mostly at different stages of learning Khmer. They can understand the message in English first but can listen to the interpreter too. A bilingual service can help build bridges between the two language groups and it can give people who have preaching experience an opportunity to use their gifts even if they are not yet fluent in Khmer.

So, yesterday I preached it up... and really enjoyed it. It helped that I could understand the interpreter. There were a number of times I was able to restate or explain a point in a different way when I could hear that the interpreter didn't fully grasp the meaning. There was one time when I wasn't sure what my interpreter was saying but I was almost 100% sure that he wasn't speaking about what I'd just said. I was listening to the interpretation but looking at the congregation when one of the students from the dorm helped me out by shaking her head at the appropriate time and simply mouthing the word, "no"! Apart from these adjustments, I think the young people understood the message clearly. I trust that the Spirit of God spoke to them too.