Extension

The essay I wrote regarding the church's call to remain in community with one another is something I believe I'll always be able to look back on and be proud of. The idea of community and the struggle and joy integral to the pursuit of bringing diverse people together is something that over that last three or four years has continued to grow in importance to my personal philosophy and theology. Beginning in my sophomore year as a Resident Assistant, and through my roles as a Peer Minister, pastoral intern, and now Young Adult Volunteer, I have continued to learn how difficult, yet rewarding this struggle can be.

But the struggle is so much bigger than simply looking at faith communities. It extends from churches, mosques, temples, and synagogues to neighborhoods, towns, cities, and eventually our society as a whole. Because it is easier, we often shy away from genuine, diverse community as it often asks something of us: critical reflection of our beliefs. As a result of the privilege of choice that wealth offers, we are able to move through our lives carefully controlling whom we interact with. Simply put, Americans are talented escapists.

We move into neighborhoods, dine at restaurants, go to events, join churches, sleep in hotels, and shop at stores all in places that are frequented by those like us. This is often based on class and/or race. But no matter what factors influence these choices, it is those that we see as the "other," those that make us feel uncomfortable, that we subconsciously weed out of our lives. And once they have been successfully weeded out of our lives, we look around to find only those most like us.

All of this works to affirm our position, ideology, theology, and politics in life. We surround ourselves with our "Yes!" men and women because we are afraid that we may be challenged in our notions, and God-forbid, proven wrong. How can we grow if we weren't challenged? The status quo would simply remain. No Reformation, no Emancipation Proclamation, etc. Growth and critical reflection can only come to true fruition through placing ourselves in communities that are diverse in their views and challenge us to take a critical look at our own.

Being...

Back in February, when I began applying for the YAV program, I was emailed a Word document named “Important YAV Concepts.” The first section, “Being and Doing,” explains the challenge and “healthy tension” between these two ways of living; “In our culture, much value is placed upon what we do and achieve. If we cannot show that we are ‘usefully’ occupied or point to the evidence of our work, we can feel a sense of failure or lack of purpose because our culture values doing… Allow God to use you whether you are being or doing. Often times one leads richly to the other.” This tension is probably the biggest struggle I’m having in India.

Because CMS simply does not ask much of me, I can rarely show that I am “usefully occupied” which has at times led to feeling a “lack of purpose”. Much of what I’m asked to do simply involves showing up at events to simply be present and not directly participate. In the beginning, when my focus was on simply adjusting, it was nice to not have too much asked of me. But eventually it was not nice at all, primarily frustrating. Being present at event after event is simply not quantifiable, and quantifying work and time is what American culture does best.

Yet slowly I am coming to realize that the most beautiful, fulfilling moments really do come from my least structured activities (e.g. going to coffee each day with the guys, walking around and striking up conversations with students, visiting people’s homes, even reading with students). It is in these moments that I am able to offer myself, not what I can accomplish. In a recent email, a close pastor and mentor reminded me, “The work you are doing - the ministry of presence - is truly one of the things that is the hardest to learn.”

[Excerpt from my October Newsletter to friends, family, and supports.]

The Foreigner

There is a word that follows each volunteer of Team India, as we jovially refer to ourselves, like a persistent mosquito. Yes, that really is an accurate analogy. For David and me, the word is saip. And for Lindsey, Sudie, Ariel, and Becca, it is madama. Each of the volunteers has a different relationship with their word/mosquito. Some swat it immediately, others wear Off! to prevent it’s attacks, and some may smile lovingly at this integral part of God’s creation. I fall into Category 1: The Swatters. I anticipate swatting the word when no one is even speaking. I dream about its death. If this word, saip, were actually a tangible being I would guillotine it.

The word saip, I am told, is the Malayalam counterpart to sahib, which simply means sir in Hindi. And now, Dear Reader, you are thinking, “Oh, how polite and innocent of a word.” Not so fast! During India’s visit from her "friend" (intended to read sarcasticaly) Colonization, sahib/saip began to be used out of (undeserved) respect for Englishmen (and madama for women in case you hadn’t put that together yet). And now the term is synonymous with “foreigner.” Having people recognize me as a foreigner isn’t offensive in and of itself; indeed, I am a foreigner and have no shame in being one. But there’s something about me that allows people to make that judgment: my skin.

I am struggling because for the first time in my life I feel defined by the color of my skin. As a white man who grew up in the U.S., I have always been the majority. And while there were times when I’m sure I was the minority in a room, they were rare and passing. No, unlike others, my skin has never made me feel abnormal. The society I come from repeatedly affirms that I am the normal one whose Band-aids have always matched my skin. But the truth is there’s nothing any more “normal” about the color of my skin, yours, an Indian’s, or Barack Obama’s. The challenge is that I have now received a label that I did not ask for and would prefer to reject. And because I don’t speak Malayalam, I will never even understand the complexity of the connotations associated with the word saip, my label, like its users do.

What I do have control over, and will use more carefully from here on out, is the labels that I place on others. For example, until now, I have never really understood why U.S. citizens whose ancestors were Mexican do not want to be referred to as Mexican themselves. I always thought, “Well, my grandmother doesn’t mind being called German.” I think I get it now. There are plenty of connotations and various understandings associated with the word “Mexican” and if you prefer “Hispanic” or “Latina/o,” I am happy to oblige. It is not denying someone’s identity; it is recognizing the common humanity and honoring people enough to empower them to choose how that identity is expressed through a medium as powerful as language.

So, one of my struggles in India is to not become frustrated or offended as I hear saip littered throughout Malayalam conversations right in from of me or when a child sights me on the street and immediately starts pointing to their parent while saying that dreaded word. Instead, I will try to appreciate that this situation offers me an opportunity to feel the uncomfortableness of being the minority (and believe me, it’s a unique, powerful, and irreplaceable experience) and allows me, in a small way, to be in solidarity with other minorities in the world, especially in my own country, who struggle to escape undesired, painful, divisive labels.

Pro Crastinator

Everything I do falls into three categories: required, fulfilling, and distracting. 

Required activities are those that I must do for one reason or another. For example, my history final that is due in the morning.

Fulfilling activities are those that recharge me are help me to grow in someway. For example, reading a stimulating book or taking a drive.

Distracting activities are my favorite. Distracting activities are those things that I do that are mindless and really leaving me feeling no better about anything in life other than I wasted time. 

I typically participate in distracting activities before giving in and completing required activities so that I can then enjoy fulfilling activities. For example, I am writing this blog and will then eventually write my final and then read a good book and fall asleep.

"That's how it is."

When I first saw the following Corporate Confession in my morning bulletin, I laughed. I'm really going to say, "That's how it is" to God?!

Leader:  In our confession today, we are acknowledging what life is often like in an imperfect world. We are confessing those places where we, as the human family, are broken and need the light of God’s love and grace to break in and bring new life.  Our confession this morning is a responsive one.  I will make a statement, and then you will respond with “That’s how it is.”

Leader:  We find ourselves separated from our sisters and brothers.

Response:  That’s how it is.

Leader:  There are lines drawn between us that are racial, that are economic.  (Response)

Leader: We live cut off from many sources of strength and power, and often feel that we cannot act. (Response) 

Leader: So many things call to us, grab for our attention, that we find ourselves stretched to a fine, thin line.  (Response)

Leader: Our time is fragmented, our lives are fragmented.  We are broken.  (Response)

Leader: Yet, in the face of all this, we seek out the joy of the resurrection.  We ask again for new life given to us in Jesus Christ!  (Response)

Leader: O God, giver of grace and new life, that’s how it is with our lives.  We seek the power of your Spirit, that we may live in fuller union with you and with our sisters and brothers, and that we may gain courage to love and to act.  Through Jesus Christ we pray, Amen.

However, as we read it, I realized that the words really spoke to me. What was most amazing was how each, "That's how it is," from the group reflected the previously spoken words. Some responses were sad and desperate, others were joyful and thankful. My favorite section was, "We live cut off from many sources of strength and power, and often feel that we cannot act. So many things call to us, grab for our attention, that we find ourselves stretched to a fine, thin line. Our time is fragmented, our lives are fragmented.  We are broken."

I constantly feel like there are some many issues in the world that I alone can't work to stop every one of them. But I also feel guilty for not trying. I know I'm not expected to, but I just wish I could do more. I felt touched when when we lamented as a group how we felt cut off from sources from power, but at the same time there are things that we can do to work for justice. Again, I don't really know what my call is in this area of my life, but I try to keep expanding my knowledge of issues around the world because I feel like they really are all interrelated.

Prayer. That's my call. To pray so that I may be reminded of my blessings and others' trials.

Devotional

This is a devotional that I wrote for my university's Campus Ministry. I'm not putting it here because I think it's that amazing; more to keep a record of it...

Exodus 24:1-18 (New International Version)

Exodus 24:2, 4, 8-9:

"...but Moses alone is to approach the LORD; the others must not come near. And the people may not come up with him... Moses then wrote down everything the LORD had said... Moses then took the blood, sprinkled it on the people and said, 'This is the blood of the covenant that the LORD has made with you in accordance with all these words.' Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and the seventy elders of Israel went up."

When I first read this passage, it bothered me that God only allowed Moses to come up and worship him. But in the end, all the elders that were present were able to go up and worship God. It just took time and patience. So what did God accomplish by only allowing Moses to climb the mountain the first time? He gave him a message for others.

I was a part of a conversation last night where we talked about other people's, especially our peer's, roles in our relationship with God. This passage enforces the idea that God often speaks to us through others. Sometimes it is other children of God that ask us the difficult questions and help us to ponder what God is trying to communicate to us. What is important is how we respond. The first step is to listen, which, I will readily admit, is sometimes a personal struggle for me. Two years ago I was really searching for God's voice and will in a particular area in my life and looking back, I can see how many people He spoke through, to me. Whether it was, friends, pastors, family, co-workers, they all had a role.

Try to remember that God wants us to listen to each other to discern His voice. Also, be open to the fact that God could be using you to speak to others.

Prayer: Loving God, thank you for caring enough to play a role in each of our lives. Please help us to be open and patient with one another's voices and to seek your voice through them all. In Christ's name we pray, Amen.

Genesis 1:1 : "In the beginning..."

What if we came hardwired with the answers to all of the questions?

This isn't my first blog. I actually started that blog almost two years ago on a different site. I kept up with it well for a few months before life pulled me away. I was reminded of it today and went back to read each entry. It was like a was reading someone elses work. A child's. I wrote those entries before my visit to France, I began my Religion courses, a whirlwind of a relationship that went up in flames, becoming a brother-in-law, becoming an uncle, my life-changing internship, and I made plans to spend a year in Northern Ireland. Sufice it to say, I am able to humbly see an ample amount of growth has occured.

I was annoyed at my play-by-play entries that chronicled each day of my life, my childish ramblings, and my lack of depth. The entries were un-reflective and only grasped the surface of my life. A constant friend and avid journaler was reading along with me and replied to my frustration, "Ok this is a lot like journaling (ok it practically is journaling) and rule number one is that you can't judge your art. Because it's your life." Her response really got me. I shouldn't judge any growth I've experienced.

Growth is good. I feel as human beings we should strive to better ourselves and deepen our understang of the world around us... constantly! I find myself seeking out experiences that I believe will boost this growth. I won't go as far as to say, "Oh, I don't regret anything because it's made me who I am!" This can be true for some, but I feel there are some experiences that tear people down. Of course, a lot of that is how you respond to experiences. The point is: If we don't try learn something from our past experiences, they are near worthless. So, while it can be frustrating, annoying, and even dissapointing to look back on myself at points in my life, it's neccesary to appreciate where I am, to enjoy this moment, to better understand the present me.

That's why I've started this blog. To poke at my skin and say, "Hey, what's under there? Come on, you've got things to say!" To ask some hard questions. So the future me can look back and say, "Oh, I remember that guy... and while he's got a lot to learn, there are a few things he can still teach me. If all of the answers and lessons were laid out for us, life's wonderful, awkward, painful, beautiful experiences wouldn't be nearly as rewarding.