Deliberately Interrupting Ourselves

Worship is the strategy by which we interrupt our preoccupation with ourselves and attend to the presence of God. Worships is the time and place that we assign for deliberate attentiveness to God- not because he's confined to time and place but because our self-importance is so insidiously relentless that if we don't deliberately interrupt ourselves regularly, we have no chance of attending to him at all at other times and in other places.

Quoted from Eugene Peterson in Philip Yancey's The Bible Jesus Read.

Testimony

I was looking at the website for the organisation I work for yesterday. As I checked out the youth section I found a prayer and testimony page. One button was to encourage viewers to read stories that other people have already written:

A lot of Great think that God have done with young people are here!

...and an option to leave your own testimony was on the button reading:

I also have one testimony because God have done a maricle thing with me.

Gotta love those maricle things!

Cheesy Songs

When I was in high school I'd write dumb poems to give to my friends as gifts or just to pass the time in a double maths period. Now I like writing songs. They are usually "songs for the moment" rather than anything serious I hope to remember in 10 years time.

I wrote one on the last night of the youth camp last week. It was about 11pm and we were sitting around on leather couches in our designated room (complete with disco ball and coloured lights, but nevermind...) when one of the girls asked me to write her a song. I agreed to give it a shot. We sat in the tangible "last night of camp" feel. Everyone was tired but nobody wanted to be the first to leave. There were growing spaces between the words but also bursts of uncontrolled laughter.

As we sat I figured out an easy, cheesy three-quarter time picking pattern and serenaded a fifteen year old chick with her song. This is the chorus:

This is your song, song song
Your very last night song
For saying as long as you can.
Don't have to be a sad song, a sad song
It could be a not-so-sad-song
For saying goodbye. = )

One more story?

Last month I wrote an email about a woman in her 20's that I've started to hang out with. She has been a Christian for about a year. She eagerly wants to know more about Jesus but considering that she didn't get the chance to finish primary school, it is a challenge for her to read the Scriptures by herself. Some of the preaching at church is also a little over her head.

We had been sharing Jesus stories before I went away to camp. I gave her some easy-to-read booklets with stories from the gospels. We spent time together reading out aloud and talking about the meaning of the stories. When I came back to Phnom Penh I didn't know if my friend wanted to keep meeting to talk Jesus stories. I didn't want to force anything. But it only took about 24 hours for her to ask, "Big sister Pip, do you have any new stories?"

We made a time to meet last night. I thought I should prepare something so yesteray I chose a passage from Mark and read it through several times. I wrote down some points in English and translated key words into Khmer to help me explain them later. This took about an hour. Last night we took some cushions and sprawled on the floor with one copy of the New Testament between us. We read the text. We talked about it for half an hour or so. When I finished there was a short pause. Then my friend asked, "Big sister Pip, one more story please?"

I laughed and said, "Do you know how long I spent preparing this one? I've been thinking about it half the day and preparing these points for an hour! But OK- one more story."

We continued reading from Mark. I started to become tired by she was becoming more energised as the freshness of these truths hit home. We finished another section. But she wanted more. I agreed to one more story (thinking in passing that this might be good preparation if I ever have children...).

While none of this was planned by me, I can't help thinking that the Father has had these meetings in mind for some time now. I'm loving the meeting and talking and learning together. I love her hunger for one more story.

Comme dans las films

I'm back in Phnom Penh after a week leading a youth program for a small group of international high school aged students down at the beach.

One of the great things about spending a week with a truly international group is that the people they bring along as their guests are likely to be interesting characters too. One such guest at the camp last week was the cousin of two of the teenagers. The father of these teens is a Canadian who grew up in Cambodia and Thailand, while their mother is a Cambodian who grew up in France. Their cousin is French but his parents are both Cambodians. So...we have a Cambodian looking, French speaking cousin who speaks just a little English and no Khmer.

Despite the limited communication, it was fun having our French-Cambodian guest! His catchphrase to sum up everything that happened during the week was, "Comme dans las films." I'm told this means, "Just like in the movies."

Let me give you a few examples-

Youth leader plans a soccer match for the first morning. Monsoon rains flood the playing area. The group plays anyway- slipping, sliding and falling over as the skies open over them. Nevermind. Comme dans las films.

Youth leader plans a boat trip to an island off the south coast of Cambodia. A storm kicks up the biggest waves she has ever seen in this country. Students begin hurling the contents of their breakfast left, right and front. Comme dans las films.

Fourteen-year-old French-Cambodian goes swimming in the biggest surf he has ever seen in his life. He gets stuck in a rip and is floundering in whitewash while the sets just keep pounding him. He manages to stay afloat but swallows several mouthfuls of seawater before the English speaking Australian chick catches a wave in and helps him out- pulling one arm and giving instructions in a language he can only kinda understand. Comme dans las films.

Youth leader tries to make up for previous unplanned circumstances/ minor disasters by planning an awesome final night dinner. She finds a place with pizza, pasta and salad that also features two pool tables, a table tennis table and a large flat-screen TV playing cable sports. Perfect. Half an hour before their arrival, the power goes off. The group tries a few shots at the pool table by the light of a couple of candles stuffed into empty beer cans but it really is impossible to play. They sit down to eat but now the rain has begun again in earnest. The roof leaks. Tables are moved to avoid the indoor shower but some still get splashed. They eat quickly (using the light of a single torch) and pile into the 4WD before 7:30pm to head back to the conference centre. Comme dans las films.

Worst Sentence?

I have been down at the beach for most of this past week. (All work-related, in case you think I'm constantly on holidays!) I was reading a two-day-old Bangkok Post this morning and I came across an unusual literary award.

The annual Bulwer-Lytton literary prize challenges entrants to submit their worst opening sentence of an imaginary novel. Retired mechanical designer Jim Guigli of California was proclaimed the winner. His entry read-

Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.

uncrumpled

I just read this post from Cheryl Lawrie. It is worth following the link. Cheryl works with an alt worship project in Australia and always has some reports, reflections, dreams and plans to get me thinking.

Why I "Have To"

Why I 'Have To'- My response to the issue of the air-con mentioned in the last post...

1. I have to learn contentment.

I'm still in school when it comes to learning contentment. However, towards this goal there are a number of things I do. I seek to recognize the sources of the good things I enjoy. I'm thankful. I try to see the difference between my wants and needs. I work at not complaining. I look for moments of joy (MOJ's) during the day. Simple stuff. Until the air-conditioner gets turned off!

I need to learn contentment even if it is just to be the person I want to be. It isn't a duty. I'd rather live freely, richly, lightly. with a deep, enduring sense of peace and joy in the midst of life's challenges.Whether I'm hot or cold, busy or bored, surrounded by loved ones or alone in a foreign place, I have to learn contentment.

2. I have to learn connections.

My actions have consequences not only for my life but for countless other people. This is something I don't fully understand but I want to keep learning about this connectedness.In thinking of a word to sum up this connectedness I think firstly of globalisation. Thomas Friedman uses two different words to sum up the Super-Story of the world in recent decades and the world today. He summarises the divided, chopped-up state of the world during the Cold War years with the single, symbolic word wall- The Berlin Wall. In contrast, today we see much more of an integration of markets, communications systems and transport systems that enable us to connect in a way that has never before been possible. Friedman characterizes this system of globalization by the word web- the World Wide Web. While the Cold War period was marked by the push and shove of divided nation-states, Friedman sees three power balances that overlap and affect each other today. The first is the traditional balance of power between nation-states. The second is between nation-states and global markets. The third is between individuals and nation states.Why am I going into detail on this point? There has been no other time in history when ordinary, individual people have such power to impact thousands or millions of others across the globe. My actions have consequences in the lives of other people. My decisions in consumer choices, voting, working, paying taxes, supporting NGO's, emailing government leaders about political concerns, investing and campaigning for justice affect people.

I have to admit this morning when I woke up, put on the kettle, swept the courtyard and fed the dogs I didn't contemplate this for a second. But it is true!Sometimes we need to be educated about the reality of life for the two-thirds. Sometimes we need to be reminded.

Sometimes we need an experience- to do something or to feel something so that we can be fuelled to engage creatively with our connected world. We need help to put into action the desires that are already in us to seek justice, mercy and peace.

3. I have to get close.

Poverty is personal. If I am to come alongside and develop genuine relationships with people who are poor (or just poorer than me) I need to get close. I may need to change my address.

In general, I don't think we put much planning into choosing our friends. They pop up because we study together, work at the same place, have enrolled our kids in the same school or surf at the same beach. It requires more planning and effort to hang out with people who are very different to us.I think all of us need to consider whether there are one or two relationships we are developing not simply because it fulfills our social needs but because we are seeking to love someone who needs it. I think some of us can take a further step by choosing to get close to a community of people who are very different to us.

Sometimes changing our address and radically altering our lifestyle in order to form genuine relationships with people who are poorer is easier to do than switching off the air-con for a night. Sometimes it is harder. If I live with the poor in an Asian, urban setting, I don't have to make a choice whether to use the air-con at all. This is none. I don't have to consider whether a washing machine and dryer all in one is better than buying two machines separately. I'll just wash smaller loads regularly by hand and hang the clothes out in the morning so that I can bring them inside before thieves are tempted to take them in the dark. It can be easier to make one choice that then defines a hundred smaller choices. When the annoying drudgery of hand-washing hits me and I ask, "Why am I doing this again?" I can answer, "Because I have to get close."

We don't know what small actions help us to get close to people. For on individual it is, "You ate the soup I made for you." For another person it is, "You are learning our language." For one it is, "You asked me for help" but for someone else it's, "You like singing our songs." Why do I mention these little things? Because if poverty is personal- if healing really does come as much through one person holding the hand of a sick widow as it does through a UN shipment of medicines- then I need to get close.

Not If If Don't Have To

A friend who works with an NGO in Hong Kong wrote these words in an email last month:

In recent months we, as a team, have been looking at the special place in Dad's heart for the poor.

We had been spending our times together looking at what his book says about it and then diving into some 'experiences' to help us step into their shoes. All we had done on this night was switch off the air-con. That was it! We switched off the air-con at the result from one team member was 'Why are we doing this!?', 'to identify with 2 thirds of the world that live this way' we replied. 'Not if we don't have too!!' came back the reply.

She continued-

It was a response that has had me thinking ever since. What is our responsibility to those in need? What is our role as people who 'have'. Are we seeking to become like them or have them become like us?

In the past year or so I have been fighting an inner war of the worlds. In my role of PR etc I do a lot of travelling. Even the fact that I am able to jump on a plane places me in the top 1% of the world. Even though I have no money to my name, I have so many resources at my fingertips. Internet connection, food, clean water, a masters level education, I speak English and I know Dad. This week I am staying (courtesy of a Rotary club person) in a 5 star hotel in Copenhagen. I am on one of the top floors looking below at all that is there. It is a comfortable place to be. It got me thinking about Dad and how he and his son had it pretty comfortable upstairs. He wasn't doing anything wrong up there but he realised that there was stuff that was not right here on earth. He could have dealt with it from where he was but he chose to identify. He chose to dive into the mess and deal with it from within it. He didn't, in the process, give up his position upstairs but he chose to bring the power of that place into the world.

The process of identification is a difficult one. I know and I am dealing with it all the time as a communications vessel for the many charities that we serve.

Even with all of that information at my fingertips, my heart does not often get moved. Those occasions when I get a chance to visit the places that we serve, though, are a different story. My senses are attacked and re-calibrated to reality.

Not everyone gets the chance to visit the places that I do. In recent months, we have found that through experiential activities, we are able to give people a sensory experience of the poor.

At the end of the email, the question was restated: Should we identify with the poor, should we 'have to'?

My single word answer would be "yes" but I think this question deserves more than a one word response. So stay tuned....