Candid

The Refreshingly Complex Bible: A slightly provocative look at scripture as it really is

2009-03-09T13:09:00.000-07:00

One of the more confusing things for people who actually attempt to read the Bible is its apparent round-about-ness. Many people read the Bible with the assumption that it was written to give answers for their life. After all, didn’t the youth pastor say that it was (B)asic (I)nstructions (B)efore (L)eaving (E)arth? Doesn’t that mean that it is supposed to answer all of my questions about morality as well as cover the other important stuff: the problem of pain and suffering, dating and courtship techniques, how to handle my shrinking 401k, scientific basics about the origins of the world, how to get to heaven, and which toothpaste to buy.

The challenge for the poor soul who happens to be crazy enough to try to open the book without a pastor-expert’s help is to navigate through the vast number of confusing or disturbing passages in the Bible. Even a quick glance at the scriptures will allow you to encounter righteous polygamists, the genocide of entire nations, the proscribed killing of thousands upon thousands of animals in order to please God, odd ways to tell if you have a skin disease, methods to determine if an animal is suitable for eating or not, etc., etc. All of this in order to get to a real gem like, “Love your neighbor.”

Within many Christian settings people put their head in the sand about the complex nature of the Bible. They either treat the Bible as though it is a simple book with lists of timeless moral truths (causing me to ask, “have you read the book?”) or a magic book that you can skip around in to find the words you need for today. - Sort of like shaking a Magic Eight Ball, reading the Horoscope, or using an Ouija Board to get your personalized daily oracle. - Sometimes you need an encouraging word, sometimes it’s a tough word of discipline, or sometimes it’s an insight into what you should do about your rebellious kid. But whatever you need, just shake it up like the Magic Eight Ball and see what it says. (Or better yet, just grab Purpose Driven Life off the shelf next to the Bible – someone else already did the hard work, why bother?)

Still others treat the Bible as though it is a doctrinal word puzzle. – “I know what it ought to say, so now I just need to find some phrases that seem to indicate support for my predetermined conclusions.” Using the Bible this way could mean clipping a phrase from anywhere, even if the context means that the passage is saying the exact opposite of what I want the words to say. But it is ok as long as it appears to make the correct doctrinal statement, right? (Why let a little context get in the way of doctrine?)

As much as it may sound like I’m making light of the approaches to scripture above, I have to admit I have spent time in my life using the Bible in each of those ways. It just became difficult to go on doing so while trying to be intellectually honest. Do you know what I mean?

Here is what I have discovered: Although many don’t talk about it, the Bible is a major stumbling block for many Christians… and, perhaps, for good reason. It’s a lot more complicated than well-meaning pastors and evangelists want to admit. What do we do with this book that is filled with crazy unsanitized stories that would certainly give it an NC-17 rating if it were ever to me made into a movie? Many Christians, truth be told, are either afraid or ashamed of the book (or both).

I find it interesting to listen to pastors preach from stories in the Bible that are horrific by any standard of measurement. Say, for example, Jael pounding a tent stake through Sisera’s head (Judges 4:1-24). What I find amazing is how pastors manage to completely ignore the dreadful horror of the story by “spiritualizing” its meaning. Apparently, like the Gnostics of the second century, these pastors have special insight into the true meaning of these stories (which is nowhere found in the Bible itself). Where do they get this special meaning? I’d like to know, and so would many others who go home and try to read the bible on their own without such “spiritualization” being imposed on the text.

Much of the difficulty of the Bible comes from how a person thinks about the Bible, the person’s expectations. I suggest that the problem comes from the assumptions people bring to their reading of the Bible. “This book was written to / for me,” or “this book is meant to explain the way to heaven” become the lenses through which people approach the text (to name a couple common examples). These lenses end up controlling expectations and sheltering people from what they could experience while reading the Bible.

Many Christians are so zealous to protect the Bible’s uniqueness amongst religious texts claiming “truth” that they don’t listen to what the book says about itself. It often seems that people claim expectations for the text of scripture that it never claims for itself. Sometimes people are so eager to make the Bible appear “relevant” for our world today that they pretend like it is a book of analogies, metaphors and fables with pithy little morals at the end of each story. What I find equally amazing is when I discover a group that talks a big game about the Bible’s authority, relevance and precision, but if you look closely, they only read and teach from about one fifth of its contents because so much of it doesn’t fit into their program or agenda so well. It seems like a lot of the rhetoric around the Bible springs from insecurity. - Maybe if we yell louder about the Bible’s inerrancy or its relevance to our world nobody will notice the embarrassing stuff we don’t talk about.

Is it because we are afraid of complexity that we are tempted to make the Bible into something it clearly is not?

What if we could read the book as it actually is? – No manipulating it, no sugarcoating it, no spiritualizing it. What if we could allow ourselves to be horrified by the violence that occurs throughout the Old Testament, bewildered by stories that seem incredibly odd, and intrigued by cultural practices that came and went in the history of the people of God? What if we were able to see that humanity (over the millennia) has morally developed (albeit slowly and incompletely – perhaps with guiding hand of the Spirit) so that most of humanity doesn’t need to be told not to have sex with an animal or with one’s mother. And is it ok to recognize that most humans don’t need to be told not to offer their children to be burned alive to appease an angry, superstitious deity. How would it change our reading if we could recognize that while God (in identity and character) is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow, humanity isn’t? Isn’t it just plain honest (based on reading scripture) to say that God doesn’t necessarily relate to humanity in the exact same way yesterday, today and tomorrow?

Underlying my questions above is the idea that perhaps we could read the Bible without it being all about ourselves. Maybe the form of the Bible is in part purposeful – in order to devastate our self-centered impulses. I have read the Bible through multiple times now and I haven’t found my name and my exact circumstances in there anywhere. This is beginning to convince me that perhaps the Bible isn’t all about me. That means that it probably doesn’t directly answer the questions that are burning on my mind right now like, “should I pick up a second job in order to make it through this economic downturn?” If I go to the Bible with that sort of question, I am either going to manipulate the text and treat it like a Magic Eight Ball or find myself disappointed by its lack of insight into my particular circumstances.

So, if the purpose of the Bible isn’t to give me answers for my problems today, what is it? A number of Biblical scholars (who believe in the unique authority of scripture) suggest that the primary purpose of the Bible in the form that it is in is to tell a story. The story, as it stumbles along over the course of several thousand years, enlightens the reader about God’s intentions for His creation project and humanity’s devastating diversion from those intentions. The story includes God’s means of redeeming, reconciling and restoring His shattered creation project, and the hope for where this whole story of planet earth (along with the rest of the cosmos) will end up. But the Bible tells the story in a unique, complex, and roundabout way. It combines fascinating and sometimes obscure cultural details and all sorts of bits and pieces that I never asked about in its telling of the grand story. It intertwines stories of dark and evil characters with those of fragile but good characters. It includes wisdom collections (Proverbs, Ecclesiastes), songs (Psalms), poetry (John 1), vivid apocalyptic imagery (Revelation), fierce criticism of God (Book of Job), and angry journal entries asking God to do horrible things to the writer’s enemies (Psalm 137).

For many readers the story appears to become much more understandable or relatable when it finally gets to Jesus and the rest of the New Testament (and thus the temptation to ignore the Old Testament). But all of the New Testament is just as wrapped up in historical, cultural, and literary clothes as the Old Testament is (examples of this fill every page of the New Testament). And, to make matters more complicated, Jesus and the New Testament are completely incomprehensible without the rest of the story before it. After all, Jesus is the climax of that story.

One of the early heresies that a few people in the church tried on in the 2nd century A.D. was this idea of trying to strip the Jewishness of the New Testament away. These peoples’ ideas were promptly (and rightly) tossed out by discerning individuals who saw that Jesus’ entire identity and meaning (and the rise of the church) is found in the midst of the story of Israel as told through the pages of Old Testament. Jesus’ teaching, life, death and resurrection all come as part of the story. Outside of the story they fall flat; they make no sense. After all, the authors of the New Testament and the early church considered the Old Testament to be their scriptures. To truly understand the meaning of Jesus and the story of the New Testament church we must seek to read the whole story and understand it in its historical, cultural, literary clothes.

So much of the Bible appears to be information that is not relevant to the immediate details of my life… and it isn’t. I suppose the whole story could have been summarized in a much more concise manner, but it wasn’t. This is where I take issue with well-meaning pastors who try to strip the Bible down to a set of cold naked propositions. If God had wanted to drop a simple and precise book from Heaven about universal human ethics, the way to get to Heaven, the purpose of life, the problem of evil, and how to find the right spouse, He could have done it in a lot simpler and more concise manner than with the book He chose to use. (Which, by the way, did not drop from Heaven). He apparently didn’t want to.

The book we have is providentially the way it is. I, for one, am proud of it. I find it authentic in its complex and often messy portrayal of humanity and God’s relationship with humanity. I find that in diligently reading it as a grand narrative I am magnetically swept up into the story, which with the leading of the Spirit gives me plenty of guidance for how I ought to be living my life. (Sadly, more guidance than I ever seem able to put into practice.) But this whole approach means I have to stop asking the self-centered question, “How does God fit into my life?” In its place I must ask, “How does my life fit into God’s story?” God’s narrative (i.e. the Bible and its ongoing trajectory as seen in the story of the church into our present era) must become my core identity.

Maybe it would do the church a lot of good to stop trying to sanitize and simplify the Bible. Maybe it is time to stop trying to carve out a few “spiritual nuggets” from the Bible and instead challenge and equip people to actually read and study the story with all of its messiness in order to actually understand what the authors of the Bible were really saying. What if we could allow ourselves to be captured by the narrative of what God is up to in our world? Perhaps people would be able to see the implications of what God is about in our world today. Maybe people would be finally free to read the Bible without fear, shame or embarrassment. Perhaps the church would find depth of soul in the midst of a shallow “me-centered” culture. If so, is it possible that Jesus’ followers could experience the presence and power of the Spirit in a way that would allow them to have something besides trite answers and oversimplified principles to offer our world so badly in need of a new guiding narrative?

The Right President

2008-09-08T23:32:00.000-07:00

I’ve been paying a lot of attention to politics these days. Too much actually. I began getting excited about change in our nation’s capital many, many months ago and have focused more on politics and the characters running for office than any previous time in my life. I think this whole focus on the significance of politics was sharpened by my time in Kenya where I was confronted everyday with the urgency and excitement of their politics. However, as we pass the 8 weeks until the Election Day mark, I am more than a bit disillusioned about the political contest we are observing.

Our world is craving good leadership. People’s lives hang in the balance, societies (including our own) are on the edge of upheaval or collapse, and there is a fine line between peace and destruction (militarily, economically, environmentally, etc., etc.). All of this calls for a leader with character and vision. – A person who take risks to break the stalemate and apathy in the public square. It calls for a leader with spine… someone who actually has enough courage to be who they really are and say what they really think (assuming they actually are a decent human and have intelligent thoughts – not always a safe assumption). The world is ravenous for someone who has the intelligence and wisdom to move beyond the logical impasses of partisan propaganda and ideological naiveté. We are looking for an extraordinary individual who is humble yet bold… someone who is intelligent, articulate, inspiring and honest.

Instead we have a couple of guys who increasingly seem to be licking their fingers and putting them to the wind. Positions are shifting (but not out of conviction – which would be noble and honest) and the smokescreen of propaganda about the opponent is what makes the biggest splash. In spite of all of the rhetoric about change, they seem to have invited the same old advisers and the same old cast of political characters from years past to join their teams (in some cases)… each one arriving with his or her eyes to the most recent polls and an ear to a special interest group. The result is political tiptoeing, character assassination, partisan propaganda, and fear mongering.

This is deeply disappointing, but not without precedent. (doesn’t it happen every time? - You can see I'm a bit cynical at this point in the race.) The candidates (at least the ones I followed) started out this journey with an ideological vision of the preferred future of America and the world. They are now reduced to a couple of desperate men, clamoring to win the highest position on earth. Whatever it takes to win the presidency, these guys will do it. “Sell my soul? - Where do I sign up?” Forget about putting forward a courageous and honest vision for America… it is all about gaffe-covering and pushing down the opposition. Their advisers strategically pick interviews and script their candidates with “talking points” and “spin” so that these guys and gal know exactly what to say and think. They have become political robots.

Apparently the game is won by telling everybody what they want to hear (at least that is what the advisers seem to be scripting). In the end the desire to win has trumped the desire for truth. Approval addiction is the vice of politics… and it runs deeper than ever right now.

With all of these thoughts / opinions in my mind, I was reading in the Gospel of Mark recently about Jesus. The contrasts between these two wannabe messiah’s and Jesus is quite striking.

The presidential candidates walk on eggshells not trying to offend their constituents or put-off those whose approval they are dead-set on getting. But in all of the stories recorded about Jesus you never see Him with his finger to the wind or taking polls. Sometimes it seems like Jesus sought out opportunities to say things that were unpopular and offensive (as long as they were true). While Bill O’Reilly tries to convince us that he owns the “no-spin zone” it is quite obvious that this is hardly the case - as Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert love to point out (admittedly to my delight). Jesus, on the other hand, seems completely content with “telling it like it is.” – No spin, no sugar coating, no setting up the hard-sell… just unadulterated truth. He speaks truth to power, tells the wealthy where to put their money, tells the purity gurus to clean up their own act, and tells those advocating violence to shove off. He is constantly disappointing people. Jesus goes about touching people He shouldn’t be touching, goes into places where He shouldn’t be going, invites the honored guests to sit at the foot of the table while inviting the beggars and bad characters to the head of the table. It appears as though if there is a social taboo to be broken, Jesus would find it and break it.

Jesus was not concerned about who He associated with - a near obsession of politicians. He invited a corrupt enemy sympathizer (a tax collector) into his inner circle of followers right along side a guy who had advocated the violent overthrow of Rome (a zealot). That is the equivalent of having an Al Qaida sympathizer and a trained CIA assassin in the same campaign strategy team. He had prostitutes and lepers as part of his tight-knit social circle. – Sort of like having a Vegas showgirl and an HIV+ male prostitute riding with you on the “straight talk express.”

As for His speaking style… He didn’t go around trying to get the good will of the people through telling his harrowing adventures of surviving death threats against Him or through telling about His time doing community service. In fact, most of His life was unknown. He never had a “convention” where people stood up and gave long-winded baloney-loaded speeches about how he was “the most honorable character they had ever met”, etc., etc. In fact, His dissenters were always questioning his authority, experience, pedigree and qualifications. When people tried to embarrass Him about His “bastard-like” birth story, He clarified that what matters is not who your physical father is, but what you do with your life – how you treat your neighbor and your enemy. He redefined the boundaries of family. He redefined the people of God. He redefined the character of God. He had a message of hope but He also had a message of judgment – and he wasn’t afraid to share either one. He didn’t have speechwriters and He didn’t have special stages built for Him to show off his best speaking style. He would often invite people to join Him on the campaign trail and other times He would insist that people not join Him. People would try to endorse Him, but He would sometimes reject their endorsements. His enemies demonized him, but He would never shame them by dragging up their dirt in the public arena. The “media” would try to trap Him, but he was intelligent and discerning enough to make their well-laid traps backfire on them. He baffled His wannabe advisors by ignoring virtually all of their suggestions. He was the original maverick. He was the true hope for change needed in Jerusalem and beyond. He was "change we can believe in."

Jesus lived His life seemingly unconcerned about gaining popularity and instead let His true colors shine. One of the more striking things about this is that, rather than backfire on Him, people saw that He was authentic and true to His word and to His true identity. He didn’t pander and couldn’t be co-opted by a special interest group or media tactic. He didn’t tell people things to make them like Him. He never promised what He couldn’t deliver. He was the same person with everyone.

What was the result of this upside-down way of doing things? This completely backwards way (according to current political theory) of doing public life resulted in Jesus becoming an intensely popular person with the masses. But the popularity was fleeting - soaring high one day and crashing the next. When things got pretty heated up, Jesus would take a few days in the wilderness or hide out on a mountaintop somewhere. He wasn’t caught up in His own raging popularity.

Approval addiction was not on Jesus list of vices. Actually, that was just it… there was no list of vices. Try as they may, the best His opponents could do was manufacture lies and misrepresent His statements (which of course they did). At the time they thought this worked… and it kind of did. He had serious enemies who were bent on doing fatal damage to his movement. One of Jesus inner circle turned on Him and betrayed Him over to His enemies while the crowds were out of sight. He was illegally prosecuted in a spur of the moment trial late at night. And with the help of backroom political deals between the power brokers of the day, they had Him publicly murdered in the most shameful manner of the day - as a traitor to His very own people with a sign mocking His political career hanging over His head.

Make no mistake about it; Jesus was a highly political character. His life was not that of a wandering mystic speaking “spiritual truths.” His claim was that of Messiah. A Messiah is a king. But, there was already a king on the throne ruling. And this king – Caesar - had a power structure that was being undermined by the revolutionary subversive message of the Reign of God being brought to bear through His representative: this man Jesus. Jesus was a threat to the political and social elite. He challenged the political, economic, social, and spiritual foundations of the empire. He was a dangerous man… too much of a maverick for Rome and the Jerusalem leadership. That is why He was put to death as an insurrectionist. His campaign of hope and change appeared to come to a grinding unfortunate halt.

History would probably not record this extraordinary man’s life had the story ended there. But the reason we know this story and the reason that people revere the name of Jesus to this day is that the story didn’t end there. The claim of more than 500 eyewitnesses is that His life didn’t end in the grave. These people claimed to have walked, talked, ate and spent time with a guy that was dead and in a grave. Clearly something extraordinary happened in this man’s life. Instead of having His life extinguished by his enemies, he transcended and actually turned the tide on the political and spiritual corruption that put Him to death. Instead of being the object of mockery due to a shameful death, Jesus’ death followed by His resurrection actually overturns the way of darkness and turns the whole tide of history. Jesus has the last laugh at the powers, systems, choices and evil that tried to strangle the way of truth, love, justice, mercy and peace - the way of God. Jesus’ resurrection vindicates everything he lived and taught. This is what gave birth to the movement of people who went about trying to live as members of a different Kingdom – an alternative community. These people had seen that there was a new way to be human… the way intended by God. And, this Way continues.

I (along with the rest of the world) am constantly tempted to look for contemporary messiahs… somebody I can vote for, trust and depend on. But I am continually disappointed by what I find. This is not a specific knock on any particular person… it is an honest critique of humanity. I’m at least as disappointed in myself as I am in any public figure.

But, I still want a leader who I can depend on… one who is intelligent, humble, honest, visionary, unselfish, inspiring, witty, gracious, just, and kind. As far and wide as I have looked, there is only one person that I can completely and honestly say fits in that category: Jesus. This is why I have thrown my life behind His campaign. His political platform is stunning, His leadership is unmatchable, His vision is nothing short of spectacular, and His sincerity is unquestionable... and I could go on (but I won't).

Come November 4, since Jesus is not on the ballot I will vote the person I think will do the best (considering the tremendous limitations referred to above) for our country and world, while preparing to be disappointed because Obama is not Jesus.

A Few More Thoughts On Love

2008-06-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

In my last post (the really long one), I made the case that unconditional love should never be equated with or confused with unconditional relationships. Unconditional love exists whereas unconditional relationships do not. I find this clarification to be enormously helpful in understanding theology.

In this (much shorter) post, I want to suggest in a similar vein to the first post that although unconditional love (Greek - Agape) is the most noble form of love, it alone does not bring about the highest state of being. This is because this type of love is not reciprocal. As I went to great lengths to say in the last post, unconditional love comes with no guarantee of good feelings or pleasure. As relationally designed beings (reflecting the creator), we long for reciprocal relationships (in a similar sense that God longs for reciprocal relationship with humanity). The highest mode of living and the most desirable state of being comes from a reciprocal kind of love (Greek - Phileo). But it is important to note that true "Phileo" love comes as a result of two beings loving each other with "Agape" love (unconditional concern for the well-being of the other)... and then discovering that in the midst of this unselfish / self-giving love a level of trust, comfort, and safety develops such that true intimacy is possible. This is the kind of love that humans desire with each other and the kind of love that God desires with humanity. This type of love has conditions because it is reciprocal and only occurs in the context of relationship. This is the type of love which produces great delight... the closer the proximity the better... fear and insecurity are drowned out by trust... humor develops naturally... creativity is catalyzed, etc., etc. - All of this leads to a plain of existence that feels like being "fully alive." This is what humanity was made for. This is what God wants with (and for) His creation.

So this means that agape love is the means to a higher state of love (phileo). This may not sound profound to you at all... it's just that I have always heard agape love idealized as the ultimate when I think that what is ideal is really phileo love. But maybe I'm alone in this. (?)

Hell Is Love & Love Can Feel Like Hell

2008-06-01T21:16:00.000-07:00

In the midst of one of the numerous stimulating conversations I have had recently with my friend Arlen, we stumbled onto the subject of “unconditional love." (What else can two unemployed wannabe theologians do but philosophize day and night?) Out of our discussion I was able to articulate some clearer thoughts about the nature of love, which had implications to all sorts of other topics. What follows are my thoughts as they have evolved since the conversation... (apologies for the length of this post)

Love is a term that is thrown around way too much and without much thought as to what it actually means. We live in a culture that has so many drastically different meanings for the term “love.” A person can say that she “loves” frozen yogurt and then in the next sentence talk about how she “loves” her husband or God. There is obviously a vast difference between enjoying a flavor sensation and a lifelong covenantal relationship.

So, let me be clear as to what I mean by "love" when I use the term. (I am trying to define love based on a scriptural understanding of the word.) I believe I am accurately deriving my definition of love from the scriptures when I say, love is unselfish concern for another’s well being. Love, scripturally speaking, is not about the feelings of the person doing the “loving.” Love is a conscious decision to seek the good of another person regardless of personal cost or feelings. Many times that “good” which you are seeking for the other person will include good feelings… but sometimes it won’t.

Much of the confusion about this in our culture is due to the English language. In many languages (so I’m told) there is adequate vocabulary distinction such that a) romance / erotic desire (“I love Susie” …meaning, “I want to kiss Susie and stay with her all night”) is distinguished from b) general appreciation / pleasure-giving (“I love mangoes” …meaning, “I could eat these things day or night”) which is also distinguished from c) unselfish concern for others (“I love bob too much to let him go down that road” …meaning, “I must tell him the truth regardless of how painful or awkward it is for the both of us; we need to talk tonight.”)

The reason I seek to make this distinction is because when the scriptures speak of love (Greek “Agape”), they are always speaking of the third definition (c) stated above. Jesus says, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” If you try to substitute meaning “a” or “b” into this sentence it falls flat. Paul says, “But God proves His love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.” Again, this is not about Jesus seeking pleasure for Himself and certainly not about romance or erotic desire. This love is about how God through Jesus unselfishly sought the ultimate good of humanity.

Now, to the issue of unconditional love. When people talk about a marriage in which there is unconditional love, or unconditional love for children, or the unconditional love of God for humanity, there needs to be some nuance brought to that understanding. First off, I believe that such love is possible and that we ought to seek it (love understood to be defined in the way of definition “c” above). On the other side of the coin, I also want to say that there can be no such thing as “unconditional marriage.” There are always conditions to marriage. Conditions are healthy and necessary. Fidelity, honesty, appropriate use of money, conflict resolution, forgiveness, mercy, etc. (to name a few) all keep a marriage intact and (by necessity) characterize the very idea of that relationship. Without both parties maintaining some semblance of the “conditions,” the marriage would collapse or become a non-reality. Marriage (and any other true relationship) is a two-way street. It is possible, however, that one party could unconditionally love the other party without reciprocation and in the midst of a collapsing or collapsed marriage / relationship. Love (based on definition “c”) does not depend on reciprocity. In the case of a dissolving marriage in which one partner is dishonest, lacks fidelity, and doesn’t care about reconciliation the most loving thing for the other partner might be to let that person go their own way. To insist on forcing oneself on the other might amount to nothing more than a form of relational rape and a form of disrespecting control. This is why it is important to define love as not simply feelings, affection, or the desire to be in close proximity. Love is far bigger than those things because love involves seeking the good of the other and is based fundamentally on the other’s freedom of choice.

So, in order to clarify what I’m saying, here it is in shorthand: Unconditional love? Yes. Unconditional marriage? No – it doesn’t exist.

I think it is safe to broaden this principle to say: Unconditional love? Yes. Unconditional relationship? No – it doesn’t exist.

Any understanding of relationship that honors respect for another person’s freedom of choice must allow for the freedom for that person to walk away.

Based on this understanding, here is what I am advocating: Humans ought to seek to love each other (all people) unconditionally while realizing and accepting that relationships (by definition) cannot be unconditional. [For example, you can deeply care about seeking the good of a person who is chronically dishonest, but you are not able to have a relationship with that person without a basic level of honesty (which is a condition). – This is not an arbitrary rule… it is simply reality. A relationship not built on honesty (reality) is a sham… it is no relationship at all.]

I am convinced that this is the way that God loves humans. God loves us unconditionally. God is, and has, always been unselfishly seeking the good of humanity regardless of reciprocity (Unconditional love).

The New Testament makes clear what was already true in the Old Testament and what has always been true: God is deeply concerned about the good of the world He created even though the world is flashing its middle finger at Him. This attitude of God and the means by which to reconcile the problems created by humanity’s rejection of God are what the Biblical narrative seeks to unfold. It climaxes in Jesus demonstrating the heart of God and taking the initiative to reconcile and restore a broken world while dealing with the problem of evil.

God is not satisfied with merely expressing unconditional love toward humanity. God genuinely wants a relationship with His creation. Relationships, by definition, must have conditions and reciprocation. These conditions are not attempts to be arbitrary; they are a way of talking about universal, real relational dynamics and the way these relational dynamics impact the core of the relationship: trust and solidarity. God, like any other being, cannot and thus will not break the integrity of universe He created in order to force somebody into relationship with Himself. It wouldn’t be a relationship if He did. Relationships require freedom, choice and conditions.

Thus, it is possible for God to love all of humanity (including Hitler, Lenin, Stalin, Jeffery Dahmer, or any other horrifically evil person) and yet not “save” them. “Saving” at its core is relational since God is saving people in order for those people to be in eternal relationship with Himself. God is “saving” people who want to be in relationship with Him (those who reciprocate His love). This is why Jesus can assure the thief on the cross that he is going to be saved (to use a biblical example).

Let me draw an even more precise meaning to all of this. Many people who want to be “saved” are really only interested in perpetuating a blissful eternal life of autonomy where they are enjoying the wonders of a perfect universe but still essentially their own god. They picture utopia (whatever that utopia might be for them). In many cases they use all of the right language (saving, grace, heaven, eternal life, etc), but fill the language with meaning that the scriptures have nothing to do with. This is why it is so important to recognize that “heaven” (as in “utopia”) is not the prize a person longs for. God is the reward. Full-unhindered intimacy with the creator is the trophy. Life with God is heaven. Heaven should never be conceived of as a place of utopia. It is a place with God… where God’s full presence is unconstrained and where “the relational cup overfloweth” (with God and with other humans).

This whole discussion helps me make more sense of a lot of stuff that I think gets really garbled in church / theological discussions. For instance, it helps remove the unhelpful and unbiblical tension between “faith and works.” (Ask me more about that if you want to know what I mean in detail).

One of the most helpful things this understanding of love assists me with is the concept of hell. From the perspective I am advocating regarding love, relationships with conditions, the nature of salvation and heaven, etc… hell takes on new meaning. Hell is not a place that a vindictive god throws his enemies in order to torture them for endless generations because they offended Him with their degenerate deeds or with their ignorance of His plan to rescue them (or because they never learned the name of Jesus, etc., etc.). Hell is the most loving thing that God can do with an individual that ultimately wants nothing to do with a universe that is continually celebrating the intimate presence of God… the God who embodies in Himself the essence of justice, peace, love, joy, and beauty. If someone wants nothing to do with this God why would they want to be in a place forever that is filled with the very presence of their enemy? (Answer: they wouldn’t.) It would be relational rape for God to force this person to live with Him. Thus, the gracious removal of a person who would find it torturous to be in a place of continual presence with their enemy is the most loving thing to do. The problem is where to remove this person to. If the whole universe is filled with God’s presence, there is no room for them where God is not. Additionally, the presence of such a person would be destructive to the sense of community existing among other humans as well. God cannot and will not ultimately allow a person to destroy His reconstructed universe by insisting on being their own selfish god. The answer to this dilemma then becomes the gracious and tragic extinguishing of the existence of a person fundamentally opposed to being in relationship with God and God’s creation. This is hell. Hell is an act of love. But love can feel like hell. As I said above, love has nothing to do with feelings because love is all about seeking the other person’s good. My feelings about the process or the result are not relevant to that definition of love. No one will be sadder about hell than God Himself.

After reflecting on all of this, I have come to see that the whole theological picture is reframed for me when the meaning of love is clarified.

Any thoughts?

Countercultural Stuff That Jesus Taught (Part I)

2008-05-11T23:25:00.000-07:00

Non-violence:
Virtually everywhere I look in our society, violence is advocated as the necessary way to make the world work. For example:
• Warfare -We applaud a military going to war as long as we see them working on the side of justice. (Of course, justice is a bit slippery to define. Who doesn’t think their cause is righteous… or at least justified? No matter which side you talk to, everyone thinks they are on the side of good.)
• Stories - Within movies, TV, and books, violence is admired and celebrated – especially when it is used in vindication or revenge or in situations of perceived self-defense or the defense of other “innocent” people. As long as the right guy wins in the end, it doesn’t matter what it took to get there. (I’m not even referring to “shoot ‘em up films / shows / books that glorify violence in a gratuitous manner.)
• Video Games - How many video games would be left on the shelf if the ones advocating a violent approach to solving problems were removed?
• Penal System - When someone does a heinous / violent crime, the way to deal with it is to “push for the death penalty,” right? (Apparently another death vindicates the first.)

I have been reflecting on the teaching of Jesus and the New Testament writers on this topic. From all of the reflecting and studying I have done so far, I can find no way to justify the use of violence by a Jesus follower. Contrary to the pragmatist approach of our world, violent means are never justified (even by a “good” outcome). According to the New Testament teaching, human beings are not entrusted with the right to take another person’s life. In fact, in the climactic moment of the New Testament the only truly “innocent” (just, pure, noble, righteous) human being to ever live on planet earth refuses to use violent means to defend Himself and His cause He unjustly suffers and dies while at the same time forgiving his executioners and chastising His followers who “didn’t get it” because they attempted to use violence in His defense. How anyone can derive a legitimate foundation for violence (in self-defense or otherwise) out of this story is mystifying to me. Jesus clearly teaches, “Love your enemies” which I think means that we shouldn’t kill them.

I have had a number of discussions recently with people who disagree with the idea of universal non-violence (and especially with the “real world” out-workings of such an idea). The conversations are always stimulating. But as I see it, in the end it comes down to this: Do we make our ethical stance on this issue based on what seems to be pragmatic and expedient according to our view of “how the world works,” or do we submit ourselves to the univocal voice of the New Testament and Jesus on this issue?

For interest’s sake, let’s just say we take Jesus at His word about this… how does that impact the way we live? What does that mean about the video games we play (why would entertain ourselves for hours with violence that we find ourselves opposed to in real life?), the stories we celebrate (notice I said “celebrate” not necessarily watch / read / tell – you cannot isolate yourself from violence in our world… putting one’s head in the sand is a non-scriptural idea.), the patriotism expected of us (“support the troops”), the jobs we work at (see below), the actions we take when we or loved ones are threatened, etc.?

With regard to employment… should an aerospace engineer who is a Jesus-follower take a job working for a government contractor who designs military attack aircraft meant to destroy other human beings in conflict? Are they not assisting and abetting the cause of warfare and violence? Should a Jesus-follower work as a police officer if that means the potential of using deadly force against another human being? Admittedly, these are difficult questions.

But let’s be honest. These kinds of questions aren’t even on the radar screen of most Christians. Beyond this, they seem completely ridiculous when considered from the standpoint of our culture. But are Christians supposed to look to culture to set our ethical agenda? I am strongly advocating for a new breed of Jesus followers who take their cues from a different narrative – one that is often in marked contrast to the narrative that guides our culture. It may mean that Jesus-followers are laughed out of the public square. That’s ok, it wouldn’t be the first time. After all, Paul talks about how the gospel was a “stumbling block” to Jews and “foolishness” to the rest of the world (gentiles). Christians were marginalized and thought quite strange for the first couple of centuries of Christianity. But this is also the same era in which Christianity seems to have been most alive. Is that an accident? I don’t think so. As soon as Christianity became legitimized by the governing authorities and accepted as mainstream, it became diluted with all sorts of cultural baggage and assumptions that took the “edge” out of it. Now we live with a toothless, culturally adapted message. Who wants to give their life for that?

So, what are Jesus-followers supposed to do about the teachings of Jesus and the New Testament about violence? Can we put this question back on the table for discussion?

Intellectually Honest

2008-04-30T01:35:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went to view a film called “Purple State of Mind” (http://www.purplestateofmind.com) about two men who were roommates in college. For one it was his first year as a Christian… for the other it was his last year. The film features their conversations 25 years later. After the film the two men were present to do a Q&A. The film was intriguing to me because it dealt with big issues that matter a lot to me. At the core of the film was a question that was implicitly being asked by the Atheist: “Is it possible to be a Bible believing Christian and be rational and / or intellectually honest?” He is not a hard-core militant atheist (like Dawkins), so he is unwilling to rule out the possibility. However, for now he is on the unbelieving side of the fence.

What really got me churned up inside was the fact that the Atheist was posing excellent and sincere questions to the Christian who then proceeded to dance around them and then give less-than-compelling answers. Before I am too hard on him, I do give him great credit for being in conversation with an atheist and I do think he is a sincere Jesus follower who has devoted his life to serving God faithfully. But, part of what I have come to realize is that our world is hungering for people who can articulate an intellectually honest worldview that also has the beating heart of spirituality at the core of it. Unfortunately, there are so many intellectually vacant forms of Christianity floating around supported by a well-developed and commercialized American religious subculture that seeks to disconnect rationality from faith (TBN, etc), that I often feel the desire to distance myself from the label of “Christian” not because I am ashamed of Jesus or the idea of an organized network of communities of Jesus followers, but because I am embarrassed to be associated with so much of the non-sense that comes with wearing that label.

This is part of what has deeply driven my desire to be an architect and leader of a different kind of Christian community. It is part of what makes me want to call what I am trying to do here in San Francisco a “Jesus Community” rather than a church. If you say “church” everybody already thinks they know what that is. For Christians it is a time slot in the weekend and / or a building. For non-Christians it is that place where you check your brain at the door… where you “believe” in spite of the evidence.

I believe that part of my mission in life is to rattle some Christians so that they are jarred to the point where they are forced to look at their assumptions… where they are compelled to think deeply about faith and its intersection with reality… where they are stirred to imagine and where they are made aware of their deep longing for relationship with their Maker. Nothing sucks the spiritual vitality out of a person faster than having their mind disengaged from their faith. Yet that is the condition of multitudes of people… a sort of spiritual malaise.

Much of that lack of intellectual vitality is directly related to fear. Many people consciously or unconsciously worry deep down inside that if they “test” their religious views against reality, they will find that they don’t hold water. This fear makes people settle for the comforts of familiarity. What a tragedy. The result is a state of quasi-comatose spirituality. Recently I was part of a group discussion where someone posed the question, “if I told you that I had three books which if you read them would devastate your faith… would you read them?” The room was silent. I restrained myself and looked around the room for a second while there was a stony silence. But I couldn’t hold myself back, “Yes, without a doubt” I said a bit too enthusiastically. Of course the question is sort of ridiculous since it would take far more than three books to destroy / change my faith. But the premise of the question holds: Am I looking for what is true – honest to reality – or am I looking to medicate myself with the comforts of familiarity? I have to say that I found it disturbing that it was actually a question that caused people to sit back and wonder. I believe that my life must be about the quest for truth and coherence or it is all pointless in the end. I’m not interested in easy answers, clichés, or even comforts if they rob me of my sense of meaning, humanity, and purpose. I desire more because I believe more is offered.

Was Wright Wrong?

2008-04-27T20:52:00.000-07:00

Although the main scuffle appears to be past, the issue of Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s sermons that have been labeled “anti-American” has still been ringing in my ears. At the time when the controversy broke, all I saw were the sound bites that the media kept replaying over and over again… “God damn America,” etc. Even then, before I heard the fuller context of the sermons (which, by the way, helps make good sense of the sound bites), I was struck by how much Wright’s comments sounded like the Hebrew prophets (such as Jeremiah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Amos, Hosea, John the Baptist, and the rest of the true prophets of Israel including Jesus). Again and again throughout the scriptures, God speaks against peoples and governments that oppress the poor, destroy the earth, and suppress the truth. But the strongest words are always reserved for God’s own people… the people He loves in a unique way. The whole book of Hosea is based on the polemical premise of God calling His own people a whore. God gets so fed up with His people’s flagrant disregard for issues of justice and faithfulness to Him that He sends in the Assyrians and then the Babylonians to utterly destroy Israel. Later, John the Baptist and Jesus both predict a bloody and destructive end to Israel – which happens 40 years later. For God, the prophets, and Jesus criticizing one’s own people is not a traitorous activity… it is quite possibly the most helpful and loving thing to do. But if the same logic that has been applied to Rev. Wright is applied to Israel and the prophets, God and the prophets are anti-Israel and possibly anti-Semitic.

It is ironic that Christians are among the ones who are responding negatively to Rev. Wright’s comments. To me that speaks to the fact that most American Christians have not been reading their Bibles. It would be difficult to miss this enormous biblical theme if you even take a brief glance at any of the prophetic literature in scripture (which makes up a huge portion of scripture, by the way). It saddens me that Barack Obama quasi disowned Rev Wright due to the pressure of media. If he was being theologically honest, he should have defended his pastor. However, political expedience won the day. – Don’t get me started about the way the political game never ceases to disappoint me.

Two things stand out to me with regard to this issue:

1) To point out the evil or brokenness of one’s country, culture or faith community is often the most patriotic, loyal, or noble thing that can be done. This act takes enormous courage and requires integrity. Beyond this, it is additionally noble to work to right the wrongs that one points out. In the case of Rev. Wright, his church has been addressing issues of justice, poverty, marginalization, etc for many years. I applaud him as a man who has pointed to injustice and tried to do something about it. Is he perfect? Of course not. (Were the prophets?) Do I disagree with him on certain issues? Yes. But, do I have respect for him? Yes, because I see him in the prophetic tradition.

2) We must resist definitions of “patriotism” that are merely enthusiastic affirmations of whatever happens to be currently advocated from the powers that be. True patriotism is calling people to seek the greater good for the citizens of the country and, ultimately, the good of the world - even if it means being critical of one’s own country (whether it be its history, leaders, foreign policy, taxation or whatever). As a Jesus follower I am especially wary of “patriotism” because it so often bleeds into a blind favoring of “me and my own kind” (nationalism / tribalism) over the rest of the world. This is unacceptable for the Jesus follower who is part of a larger family that is made up of people from every nation, people, culture, and language. We must seek an identity that transcends nation, ethnicity, culture, tribe, family, and gender.

I recommend these links for more on this topic…

Interview with Bill Moyer:
http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/04252008/watch.html

Time Magazine Article:
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1734809,00.html

FYI: Should you understand me to be saying that I am not blessed to be an American living with the benefits that I have here, you have misunderstood me. Secondly, I am not defending all of the statements that Wright has made. For example, I have to admit that I am quite skeptical about the idea that the HIV virus was created and released onto the Black community. However, as the media continues to mock him I think it is important he actually be given a true "hearing" - not just the sound bites. Again, I recommend the interview with Moyers above.

Whatever Happened To The Money We Raised For Jola Welfare Group?

2008-03-26T23:10:00.000-07:00

Some of you have asked me what was done with the funds that were raised for the Jola Welfare Group in Nairobi, Kenya. Together we raised about $4500 for the group (who were thrilled to have the desperately needed assistance). I recently received an email from the secretary of their group (a guy named Maurice). Here is what they did with the money...

"The total amount received up to date according to the exchange rate is Kshs. 287,000/= and the breakdown is as follows:

1. Workshop – 13 rooms @ Kshs. 18,000/= total = Kshs. 234,000/=

2. Transfer and stamping from the local chief and the former landlord to Jola welfare Group = Kshs. 20,000/=

3. Tailoring

- 2 new sewing machines @ Kshs. 10,000/= = Kshs. 20,000/=

- tailoring materials = Kshs. 10,000/=

TOTAL = Kshs. 274,000/=

Balance of Kshs. 13,000/= has been put in the Jolawelfare Bank Account.

The workshop we bought is currently housing some of the displaced members (of the Jola Group). Now we want to relocate them to their homes so that we can renovate the workshop before we move in. Also note that initially we had 3 sewing machines and then added 2 more to make 5, but we lost 3 machines (due to looting) during the post election violence and now we are left with 2 only. Also, the Local Authorities introduced a mandatory trading license from the beginning of this year that is costing us additional money.

We hope that this is clear to you. Please do not hesitate to get in touch in case of further clarification from us.

Regards,

Maurice

For Jola Welfare Group."

---

I am so impressed with this group of people and their intense devotion to integrity in the midst of assisting each other as they climb out of poverty. I hope to do some more fundraising for them in the near future. If you have any specific questions for these people, tell me and I will try to get in contact with them. Also, I hope to let you know sometime soon how the two men (Fred and Edward) have used their money that we raised for them.

Thoughts about religion, culture, and blind spots based on my experience in Kenya

2008-03-24T20:02:00.000-07:00

I’ve often heard that Africans have the reputation for being especially religious people. My three and a half months spent recently in Kenya (September through mid-December) definitely confirmed for me that religion is widespread. On nearly every street corner there are churches (most of them are little wood shacks with iron sheet roofs). Parts of Kenya made the Bible Belt of America look irreligious based on the sheer number of worship establishments. By official standards, around 80-85% of Kenyans are Christian, another 10-15% are Muslim, while the remaining 5% carry on some form of traditional tribal religion. An atheist is a rare find. Several Kenyans asked me to explain how anybody could doubt the existence of God (since they have heard that is common where I come from). I don’t have many of those discussions here in the West where the likes of Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris always seem to be at the top of the bestseller list. On Sunday mornings, I could hear multiple church services in action at once from the room in a little apartment that I stayed in. I, myself, attended no less than 7 different faith tradition’s religious services while I was in Kenya. Truly, Kenyans love religion.

Religion has been responsible for much good in Kenya. It has clearly reinforced and expanded many of tremendous cultural assets present in Kenyan culture. I was particularly overwhelmed by the hospitality I experienced. There is a deeply unselfish core to many people I encountered. Especially in the slums I visited, I was struck by how the poorest of the poor would go so far as borrowing a bit of sugar or maize flower from a neighbor to make me a cup of tea and a bit of food. This was a truly humbling experience to receive (at the insistence of my host) from someone in such apparent need. Hospitality is clearly reinforced by religious teaching in Kenya and has resulted in the good of all (including outsiders like myself).

But there are some troubling things in my mind about Christianity in Kenya. (I can’t speak much about Islam or tribal religions because I lack enough first hand experience). The churches, in general, have lacked a voice concerning some of the most pressing social and cultural issues. For example, with a country full of people whose primary religion (Christianity) opposes injustice and dishonesty, why has there been such extensive government and societal corruption and why is it allowed to continue? Why are there so few churches speaking out about the problem of tribalism? Both of these issues hit the fan after I left in December following the deeply flawed elections (although these issues were clearly present to everyone while I was there). The presidential election (which had big implications for Kenya) was rigged by the incumbent whose tribe has been hoarding power and wealth to the detriment of the other smaller 41 tribes who share Kenyan soil. The result is what you heard about in the news: tribal conflict and massive civil unrest. Kenya was on the brink of civil war over two issues that have been going on for 40+ years, but which have been all too often ignored by the Church. Sadly people in some areas of the country were using machetes to maim and kill their very own neighbors - not because their neighbors are threatening them, but simply because they are of a different tribe. Members of the same church, people who have done business together, people with children in the same school were killing each other. Of course, this wasn’t the first time this has happened in recent history. In Rwanda, where over 90% of the population claimed allegiance to Jesus in the early 90’s, hundreds of thousands of people slaughtered each other – many of them dying in churches where they sought protection.

I have been asking myself why this happens? Clearly something is wrong. As a follower of Jesus, let me be critical of my own tradition for a moment. I want to suggest that the problem has to do with a lack of ability to critically examine one’s own culture in contrast to the teachings of Jesus (in the case of Christianity). There is a certain level of blindness or unwillingness to do the difficult work of “leaving” part of the culture behind. I want to be quick to point out that this happens in every culture not just Kenya.

As I reflect on my experience with Christianity in Kenya, a question arises for me, “Is Jesus merely another nice addition to a mostly complete and basically unchangeable worldview (like adding a nice piece of jewelry to an already complete outfit), or is it possible that a person needs to abandon or transform aspects of his or her culture in order to truly follow the teachings of Jesus?” I think we need to pose the question as to whether well-meaning missionaries have done themselves and Jesus a disservice by over-contextualizing in their attempts to share their faith? Has the story and message of Jesus been reshaped to fit in with a society so well that it is basically neutered to speak out against problematic elements of that culture? This may sound like an odd scenario to suggest since often missionaries (especially in Africa) have been accused of a problem on the other side of the road: trying to foist a foreign (western) culture onto their converts. This is clearly a problem too. The Kenyan people who I love very much should definitely not become American (God forbid!). That would introduce a whole new set of problems.

I am suggesting that in order to truly be a dynamic voice of truth and transformation, individuals and their faith communities (in Kenya or wherever they are located) need to find a new identity in which they hold loosely to their culture (while still being part of that culture). In the words of Miroslav Volf, “There is a reality that is more important than the culture to which we belong. It is God and the world He is creating…” (Exclusion & Embrace, pg. 50). In other words, there must be a more compelling vision for life than perpetuating one’s own culture. But part of the challenge is to distinguish one’s culture from their religious ideology.

How can this happen? I believe one important step toward this is for people of faith to rub shoulders with “the other” (people from other cultures and other faith traditions) enough to see the blind spots in their own worldview and to see how they have merged religious ideology with culture. All too often, people of a similar religious stripe limit their interaction with outsiders. It takes real effort to move outside the comforts of all that is familiar. But the results can be life-changing. In my time in Kenya, I found the experience of bumping up against “the other” to be a wonderful catalyst towards thinking more critically about my own culture. I was given a tremendous opportunity to see the beauty and the brokenness of Kenya by being a stranger in a foreign culture. But I also gained a new angle on myself, my culture, and its relationship to my spirituality. It has caused me to see the world through different eyes and has caused me to change in ways I wouldn’t have without this experience.

BBC Planet Earth Inspired Thoughts

2008-03-02T21:22:00.000-08:00

I just finished the last segment of the five disc BBC “Planet Earth” series. I am overwhelmed by what I have seen and experienced through the series. The spectacular footage of rare and exotic plants and animals in their unique native habitats was stunning and inspiring. You would have to be less than human to watch this and not walk away with a sense of awe and majesty. It brings me to a whole new level of wonder and respect for this world’s creator and designer. In spite of the broken state of affairs on so many levels in our world, when I take in the vast beauty of this planet I cannot help but worship its Creator.

I was especially struck by the interviews with ecologists, conservationists, religious, governmental, and business leaders about the fragile state of our world. The situation as they presented it deeply impacted me about the gravity of the issues facing us. Much of the challenge of the issues of conservation and environmentalism come from the conflicting agendas of limitless economic development (the god of capitalism) versus the idea of protecting and preserving our planet for generations to come. As is commonly pointed out in the media, the problem is that our western lifestyle is reckless and unsustainable due to the fact that it is currently dependent on the exploitation of natural resources. As the population on the planet moves from 6 billion to 9 billion in the next forty years and many other nations move towards the irresponsible consumerist western lifestyle we have modeled (think of China and India with their enormous populations), the natural consequences are going to be dreadful.

Although there is a lot of complexity to the issues of conservation, one thing is inescapably clear to me: the protection, advocacy, conservation and stewardship of our planet’s life (animal, plant, etc.) is a deeply spiritual issue. It is unthinkable that followers of Jesus would avoid this pressing issue or allow it to fall by the wayside as though it were a rather unimportant concern. This idea of stewardship of the earth is bedrock core to a scriptural worldview. Furthermore, the book of Revelation chapter 11 has a picture of God’s final judgment that includes a stern warning stating that God will destroy “those who destroy the earth” (11:18). Beyond just thinking about the natural world itself, the issue of conservation is about justice. It is often the poor who end up having to live and deal with waste and destruction caused by the first-world’s irresponsible behavior.

It is extremely unfortunate that much of the destruction of our planet in the west has been done with the tacit approval of Christians who have operated out of a terribly misguided theology that says, “Who cares… it will all burn anyway. – We are off to heaven to escape this place.” I wonder how such theology must break the heart of God.

It is groups like A Rocha (http://en.arocha.org/usa/) that give me hope. I wrote a while back about them. They are a Christian conservation group working around the world. My prayer tonight is, “God, help me to know how I can change my lifestyle so that I am part of preserving rather than destroying this beautiful planet you have created and entrusted to us.”

Reality Before My New Reality

2008-02-23T18:02:00.000-08:00

Fear or Faith:
Over the last couple of weeks I have found myself gripped with fear at various times. It happens when I stop and consider the gravity of what I’m doing. - Moving to a city where I know virtually no one, moving into an apartment with a stranger, re-starting my real estate business at a terrible time to be in real estate, anticipating the impending financial hit I’m about to take, feeling inadequate to start and co-lead the Jesus Community I have been dreaming of, etc., etc. Everything about this seems insane from one angle. But I am compelled forward by a sense of calling and mission. Intellectually speaking I’m all the way there… but emotionally (on the gut level), this is hard. This step in my life is calling for the most faith I have ever had to muster up. It is calling for everything. It is really challenging me to put to the test everything I say I stand for. Do I really trust Jesus when He says, “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink… but seek first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well”? My life over the coming months will have to answer that question. In the meantime I’ve been discovering that the only way that I can find confidence to move forward with the courage I need is by daily (or several times a day) putting myself in a quiet place and studying scripture and praying. The more anxiety I have the more I have to spend that time. As old fashioned as that may sound, I’ve decided there is no other way.

A Mentor:
This last week I had the opportunity to spend a day with someone who I discovered to be an extraordinary human being. I drove to Chico, CA and met with a 71 year old man who has spent his entire adult life mentoring people who want to be followers of Jesus. He is especially known for his ability to mentor successful business leaders. We had only met briefly on one other occasion in a group setting, so our appointment was a chance to really get to know each other. I won’t bore you with all of the details, but I was struck by several things about him that I deeply admire.

1) His confident sense of identity – He was comfortable in his own skin. He impressed me as transparent and authentic… both laughing and tearing up while I spent time with him. He is not embarrassed of who he is and he’s not threatened by other people or their success.
2) His humility – he continues to be a voracious learner (about a variety of topics) even in his retirement. It was shocking to me when he asked me to share more about something he wanted to learn from me.
3) His holistic approach to life and incredible discipline – He swims a mile every day, lifts weights, is working on doing 100 pushups in one setting (he’s up to 90), eats well, sleeps adequately, spends enormous amounts of time in prayer and scripture study, reads and writes books, spends time with family and his wife, etc.
4) His love for his wife and family – He gets teary eyed about his wife of 40+ years when he talks about her. His adult children love and admire him. He never let his ministry cheat them of the father they deserved.
5) His passionate heart for Jesus – He is clearly “sold out” for Jesus and has supreme confidence in Jesus’ ability to transform lives that are wandering aimlessly in this broken world. I particularly love his strongly relational approach to sharing his love for Jesus.

At the end of our meeting together I was absolutely thrilled that he was willing to meet with me again and act as a spiritual mentor to me. I’ve been praying for this for some time now.

By the way, aren't you impressed that I kept a blog entry to under 3 pages!!! :)

Israel Pt. 5: Final Reflections

2008-02-20T22:11:00.000-08:00

I’m back in the US and officially over my jet lag. However, I don’t think I’ve gotten over my three weeks in Israel. I still feel a bit shell-shocked. The trip was deeply impacting in many ways, both positive and negative.

Positively, I walked away with vivid pictures in my mind of the places where so much of the biblical drama unfolded. Now when I read about the pool of Bethesda or the Sea of Galilee or the Temple, I can supply a mental image to shape my understanding of that event. Part of what is valuable about going to Israel is just seeing first hand the geography of the countryside. So much of the story is shaped by the unique lay of the land. Seeing so much of the archaeology that is preserved in Israel makes the story of the scriptures more real. It isn’t just myth… it was real people in real places. I walked away from Israel with a sense of amazement at the building program of Herod the Great (you remember the guy that killed the babies in Bethlehem in order to try to get rid of Jesus?). This guy was a maniac builder. He created elaborate palaces in multiple locations, a whole city and deepwater port on the coast (Caesarea – dedicated to his patron Caesar Augustus), a get-away fortress down at the dead sea (Masada), the largest platform ever built by humans (the Temple Mount), etc., etc. The building projects he undertook were massive and they shaped the whole culture of 1st century Palestine.

Another positive thing I walked away with was a personal sense of the contemporary issues that are shaping today’s life in this part of the Middle East. I met Palestinians, Jordanians, Egyptians, Bedouins, and of course Israelis (not to mention all of the other travelers I ran into from other parts of the world). I met Muslims, Christians, Jews, and people of the Bahai faith. This diversity of interactions made for a rather rich tapestry of opinions that floated my way. I wish I could have interacted more with people. The unfortunate part about only having 3 weeks and an overly full itinerary is that you don’t get to settle down and have extended interactions with the locals.

On the Negative side of the equation, I found myself ultimately quite put off by elements of Israel and Israeli culture. I found myself deeply frustrated with Israel’s narcissistic preoccupation with her own security. This policy of ruthless security procedures and intimidation does not sow seeds of goodwill. The security procedures I was put through as I left the country were dehumanizing and irrational. The wall between the Israelis and Palestinians is dehumanizing and unjust. The Israeli treatment of Palestinians in Gaza is worse than how you would treat an animal you disliked. See this article for more about this: http://www.christianpost.com/article/20080124/30963_Churches_Decry_Israel's_Treatment_of_Gaza.htm

It is clear that Israel puts its ultimate faith and confidence in the almighty gun. In general Israel policy does not seem to care about finding ways of building bridges to visitors or neighbors. Israel cares about itself and the Jewish Diaspora (I met many 18-20 year old secular Jews from around the world who were invited to come and visit Israel and party on the Israeli government’s dime). If I am to be totally honest, I don’t think Israel is a democracy… it is an ethnocracy.

Some of this seems to be understandable. There are many people, possibly even whole nations, who want to obliterate the nation of Israel from the face of the planet. That is horrible and obviously must not be allowed to happen. However, in terms of a constructive way forward, the current way things are being handled in Israel is not winning Israel friends in the world. It is creating more resentment. The biggest walls in the world are not going to solve this problem. They only exacerbate it. I went to visit Israel with a fairly neutral and under-informed opinion about the country and political issues surrounding it. I walked away without a sense of “friendship” in my heart toward Israel as a nation. There were some kind people that we met along the way and I’m grateful for that. But in general I had a very negative experience with the people. I am instructed by Jesus to love even my enemies. To that end, I have decided to love Israel (love meaning, “to seek the good of another,” not some mushy warm feeling). Most people who visit Israel visit with a tour group with tour operators who grease the wheels everywhere with a minimal contact with real Israeli culture. I didn’t have that experience. I found myself repelled by the attitude I was thrown in so many situations. (Since I have already spoken about this in another posting I will refrain from more examples in this one).

This is all very distressing to me; I’m quite conflicted. I am deeply disturbed at the way that people have treated the Jewish people over the centuries. I spent almost a whole day at the Holocaust memorial in Jerusalem (Yad Vashem), which is a brilliantly put together memorial that was incredibly sobering. As a Jesus follower, I’m particularly saddened by the atrocious treatment of Jews at the hands of Christians over the past 2000 years. Augustine and Martin Luther said, and in some cases did, some horrible things to Jews (to name a few more well known anti-Semite Christians). The last thing I want to do is to be lumped into this category. But let me explain another wrinkle to this issue. If I had gone to Argentina and found myself deeply bothered by elements of Argentinean culture, is it not fair that I could express the fact that I found their culture to be unhealthy and unfriendly in certain ways? (I know nothing about Argentinean culture by the way – purely illustrative.) Nobody would bat an eyelash. I don’t think it is wrong to analyze a culture and determine that it is broken in many ways. We are supposed to be discerning people. It just becomes a very sensitive issue when you combine that critique with the ugly history of Jewish / Christian relations. So all of this has been causing me a lot of reflection. It is making me pray about this a lot… to ask for forgiveness in some cases… to process my frustration in others. Also, let me be clear that even though I firmly disagree with some of Israel’s policies and dislike some crucial elements of Israeli culture, I have done my best not to stereotype and prejudge all Jewish people. Even in my moment of greatest anger towards Israel (after I was treated like an animal by Israeli security), I had a nice interaction with three Israelis in the London, Heathrow airport. Anyway, I think all of this is the beginning of a process of healing that I need.

All in all, I would go back and do the trip again. (I might do it somewhat differently though.) When I first left Israel I had no desire to ever return again… however, after a few days of reflecting, I guess I would consider going again. There is so much to learn there. I wish that I could have had more of a “spiritual” experience. But maybe I needed to have the experience I had. It wasn’t what I expected and maybe that was good.

Israel Part 4: The Unholy Land

2008-02-11T01:16:00.000-08:00

Angry:
I’ve been in Israel (and the surrounding area) for almost 3 weeks now. Right now I’m tired. I am barely recovering from a bout with the flu that put me on my back for 36 hours (conveniently on Shabbat when everything was closed down anyway). I feel like I need solitude and space. I have a lot of frustration built up in me from the last couple of weeks. I feel quite angry inside. Earlier today two young men purposefully shoved their shoulders into me and swore at me for no good reason as I walked along a sidewalk minding my own business. A little later on, a teenage boy purposefully spit out of the window of a bus at my travel buddy Prentice. When the boy saw that part of the spit hit Prentice, he expressed glee to his seatmate. This along with a lot of other annoying stuff… like every time I need help finding a bus, nobody can help me (or will give me enough attention to even ask them the question). Like this afternoon when I ended up paying for a taxi – who lied to me about the distance - only to discover that the bus was 100 meters away as I rode away in the taxi. I feel suspicious of everyone who wants to sell me something. In my mind everyone is taking advantage of me. (Paranoid? – It sure sounds like it, doesn’t it!) Then when I actually do want to buy something the shop owner acts like I’m doing him a service to be buying something from his store and makes a HUGE deal about breaking the equivalent of a $20 bill to buy something from his store. Customer service has never been heard of in most places I’ve visited. (“Thanks, come again” – what are you serious? I haven’t heard those words in 3 weeks!) Most of these things I’m sharing by themselves wouldn’t even phase me. But after nearly 3 weeks of it, I am on edge with anger growing inside. Sorry… but I’m trying to be honest and put this in perspective for you. I’m not here with a scrubbed and attended-to tour group going from site to site in an air-conditioned tour bus with a guy talking on the microphone. I’m rubbing up with a lot of local folk.

If I actually lived here, I’m sure some of these frustrations would be resolved due to language acquisition and cultural awareness / preparedness. But I’ve also realized that some of it wouldn’t. Dozens of misunderstandings and cultural gaps can very easily add up to anger and stereotyping and suspicion. It makes me understand how I could hear Jews in Jerusalem say that they “hate Palestinians” and how I could see a Nazi swastika painted on a wall in Bethlehem (in the Palestinian Territories). I think it is awful that this anger exists… but I can also understand a bit more about why it exists. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I have had to keep reminding myself that every person I deal with is an individual. There are wonderful people everywhere you look and there are also a lot of bad apples ruining things for the others everywhere you look. The setting is rife with temptation to stereotype. So this place is challenging me to say the least. It’s not a vacation.

Earlier I mentioned the sheer amount of guns in Jerusalem. Actually, the guns are ever-present all over Israel due to the fact that an Israeli Defense Force (IDF) member can never be without his / her gun. I can’t tell you the number times I have been bumped by some part of an M16 as the soldiers wait in line with me or ride the bus or the train with me. I even saw a young woman carrying a rocket propelled grenade launcher around with her. All of the soldiers treat it as an American student would a backpack… its just part of the uniform. I have to wonder what this does to a culture. When you grow up from birth seeing weapons everywhere – in the house, in the buses, in line at grocery store, even at the Western Wall (I have a picture of an IDF soldier praying with his M16 on his back), what does this do to you? One thing is for certain, it reinforces the idea that violence and power is the answer to issues of safety and security (which happens to reflect the Israeli government’s style of handling dissidents). There are obviously atrocious things like the widely publicized suicide bombings coming out of the Palestinian side, but there are also a lot of unreported happy trigger moments coming from the IDF side of things. I just happened to ride in a taxi with a woman whose husband was mistakenly shot by an IDF soldier. He was a doctor from Germany (this one became publicized due to the fact that he wasn’t even Palestinian). In Bethlehem, at the UN refugee camp, Dheishah, that I visited (more like a town due to the fact that it has been around for 50 years and has 50,000 people living in it), there were posters all over the place of recently killed brothers and fathers. I was personally taken to the front of a home of someone who was killed four days ago. Obviously some of these deaths are provoked but others are not. (By the way, we enjoyed a wonderful spontaneous tour of the camp from an incredibly enthusiastic woman who works for an NGO assisting people who live there. We also got a special tour of one of the mosques.) But (back to the IDF), what should we expect when a country puts enormously powerful weapons (can we say weapons of mass destruction – since the M16 and its equivalent, the AK47 have killed exponentially more people than any nuclear warhead) in the hands of adolescents (18-20) who are forced to do service in the IDF in order to carry out a policy of revenge?

All of this leads me to seriously question the whole effectiveness of the policy of revenge (I’m speaking about both sides). So far it obviously isn’t working. In response to rockets from Gaza, Israel cuts off power to impoverished and starving people in Gaza. Certain people in Gaza become so deranged and irrational over this and other injustices (mixed together with a dose of Islamic radicalism) that they are willing to kill themselves if they can take a few Israelis with them. (Or more likely they will try to fire a few more pathetic rockets into sparsely populated areas hoping for a hit). When Israel receives the rockets, they turn down the power a bit more and crank up the aerial missile attacks. And the cycle continues… deepening frustration and misunderstanding. So apparently the answer is a 2 billion dollar, 8-meter concrete wall isolating people from each other (the Berlin wall was only 4 meters and 1/3rd the projected length of the Israeli / Palestinian wall). It is also clear that the wall is also a convenient opportunity to “settle” and land-grab some valuable parcels.

What a horrible state of affairs. I’m not a politician and I don’t know everything about the history here, but I’m convinced that there are ways to solve these issues. But not without a whole lot of changes from both sides beginning with actually listening to each other and committing to a process of truth and justice. So in reality with the way things look as of now, this probably won’t be happening any time soon – good luck Mr. Bush (meant with all sincerity - as the rockets fall on Israel and the missiles fall on Gaza while their electricity gets shut down).

I actually didn’t plan to write about the Israeli / Palestinian issue… but it just came rolling out as I started to write about my frustration. I have a lot to keep learning, but I think everyone does on this issue. If you can only see one side… watch out, your wrong! My prayer is that justice, truth and grace will prevail. There is no other hope apart from these three… no other ground upon which reconciliation can occur.

Something that has been deeply impacting me on this trip is a phenomenal book by Miroslav Volf, “Exclusion and Embrace” which I find to be the best book about the relationship between Jesus-following and culture. I find his thoughts particular insightful in light of what is happening in Kenya (and although different, what is happening in Israel / Palestine). Volf, a professor at Yale Divinity School (and former professor at my alma mater Fuller) writes out of his experience in the former Yugoslavia and the ethnic cleansing that happened there. If you are a “thinking” person and enjoy a fantastic theological read, this is a book you must get. It is very relevant to the world we live in.

Now that I have all of that off my chest…

Cycling the Sea:
I was so excited when I got to Tiberias on the edge of the Sea of Galilee. I had read in my guidebook that it was possible to rent bicycles to ride around the lake. I thought it would be a great way to see the sites (such as Capernaum – Jesus ministry base, the Mount of Beatitudes, the boat they recently pulled out of the mud that was from the time of Jesus, etc., etc.). So we got up first thing and rented our bikes and took off with them thinking that all day would be plenty of time to make it around the lake (55 kilometers). However, things turned out a bit more hilly than we thought. In fact, the Mount of Beatitudes became the mount of a bad attitude as I nearly died on it. Part of the problem was that the map made it look like there were little towns all along the way. There weren’t. We skipped breakfast thinking we would catch it on the way around the lake. When we finally came to a restaurant (12:30) it was so expensive that we could have rented the bikes for two more days rather than eat there… so we didn’t. So around 2:00pm our bodies began to disintegrate. To all of my cycling friends, go ahead and laugh (we had only ridden about 17 miles – up and down hills albeit). We were only part of the way around the lake and the rest of the trip was just not gonna happen. The guy who rented the bikes to us had told us that if we had a popped tire or a broken chain he would come and get us (as if we could find a phone to call him). I started looking for broken pieces of glass to roll over (ok, I didn’t, but the idea crossed my mind more than once). We were actually too ashamed to call the guy and tell him that there were two “pansies” stuck half-way around the lake unable to get home. So we did what real men do. We hitchhiked (with our bikes in tow) half the way back to our starting spot and rode into town like we had just completed the Tour De France. Actually we barely dragged into town even with the hitchhike. We looked pretty stupid – two young healthy looking guys in mid afternoon with perfectly good bicycles trying to hitch a ride. But desperation has a way of humbling you. We considered faking an injury but decided just to say it like it was. - We were tired wimps in need of a ride. The guy who picked us up was actually super cool about it. He didn’t even accept money from us – probably secretly thought that it would humiliate us a bit more.

All of that aside, I can see why Jesus hung out around the Sea of Galilee. It is beautiful… green hills, flowers, peaceful breeze, and soothing lapping water (which was surprisingly warm). I would definitely prefer to kick-it there rather than Jerusalem if I were Jesus. It is good for the soul. It was very helpful for me to picture the setting for much of the ministry of Jesus that we have according to the gospels. The setting for the Sermon on the Mount was pretty inspiring (after I had recouped from the hellish ride up to the spot). I actually got the chance to sit down and read it through while sitting on hill overlooking the lake. Now when I read the stories in the gospels again, I will always picture this setting.

Another recent highlight of the trip for me was my chance to float in the Dead Sea. That is a weird feeling. The water is so salty that you float without any floatation device. I mean you float on your back like you are sitting in an inflatable pool chair. Definitely a cool feeling. And the lake was warm even in the middle of winter! The same day we also toured the famous mountaintop fortress called Masada and the place where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered (Qumran). It was a fantastic day.

Link To Some Pictures

2008-02-05T12:27:00.000-08:00

http://picasaweb.google.com/ryansjones/BestOfIsrael

This is a sampling of some shots I have taken so far

More Adventures: Egypt, Jordan and Israel

2008-02-04T13:07:00.000-08:00

Snow, The Mountain, and Sandstone:
It did snow in Jerusalem leaving about 4-6 inches on the ground while I was there. It was beautiful, but messed up our travel plans. Everything shuts down during the once a year snow in Jerusalem. We managed to get out as soon as it stopped and caught a bus to southern Israel where we then transferred to Egypt and the Mount Sinai area. It is very rugged terrain out there… but beautiful. We spent the night at a 1700-year-old monastery and got up at 3:00AM to climb Mount Sinai under a blanket of stars. It was well below freezing and we were layered up to the max. We paid $16 to have a camel take us 2/3rds of the way to the top. Riding a camel is a trip. Weird animals to say the least… and not super comfortable to ride on (I couldn’t wait to get off). But I felt very ancient and Middle Eastern riding a camel under a starry sky to the “Mountain of God.” The sunrise was spectacular and the experience unforgettable. We hopped on a taxi back to Israel and then transferred to Jordan and on to Petra the next day. Petra is a 2200 year old city literally carved in to spectacularly beautiful multicolored sandstone and featured in one of the Indiana Jones movies. It was carved and built by the Nabataeans over a couple hundred year period until the Romans conquered them and added their own stuff to the mix. Others have come and gone including Byzantine Christians who used the magnificent carved structures as churches.

We’ve seen a lot in the last couple of days. I have to admit it was pretty amazing to go from snow in Jerusalem to the top of Mt. Sinai to the ancient city of Petra in a period of 3 and a half days. Am I making it sound glamorous? Don’t worry, there was plenty of stress along the way. But that is what comes with traveling right?

Some Thoughts on History:
Over Christmas, I was doing some manual labor for my dad trying to earn a little $$ to go on this trip (since I am not settled anywhere to be able to work right now). I was helping my dad clear some property with an old shack on it that had fallen down. As I was burning the wood from the shack and cleaning up the area near it, I stumbled across a great historical find: a newspaper from 1953. I was pretty excited about it. In fact I referred to it as the “dead sea scrolls of the Jones’ family property.” I was like, “wow, a whole 50 years!” Such a find would be thoroughly unimpressive here in the Middle East. Add a couple of zeros to that number and then you have something to write home about. Our sense of history in the U.S. is anemic compared to places like Israel and Egypt and Jordan.

One of the fascinating things about Jerusalem is that due to its tumultuous history and the fact that it has been continuously occupied for more than 3000 years, all you have to do is dig anywhere and you have layers of history. Sometimes the archaeologists are digging 50 and 100 feet deep to make new finds. This is because so much of the city has been built directly on top of places that were destroyed. Rather than tearing down mostly destroyed buildings, people would just backfill the area with garbage and other ruins in order to flatten out the hilly city. Amazingly, there is a huge amount of history that has been preserved in spite of all of the conflict and destruction here. I won’t bore you with all the details, but I have visited ruins from the time of David all the way through stuff from the Muslim era to the present. One of my favorites was “Hezekiah’s Tunnel.”

Back 2800 years ago, the Judean king Hezekiah was preparing for a massive impending siege (by the Assyrians). He knew that Jerusalem could survive only if it had a protected source of fresh water. The spring that provided water was in a precarious place, so he had his workers dig a tunnel straight through the rock (underground as deep as 150 feet in some places). The length of the tunnel was about 1700 feet, which allowed water to flow into a pool inside the city walls. His strategy worked and Jerusalem survived a terrible siege. (This whole story is in the Bible.) Water still runs from the spring through the tunnel, which was rediscovered 150 years ago or so. My travel buddy (Prentice) and I walked through the tunnel which is slightly claustrophobic as you wander a 1/3 of a mile in the 2.5 foot wide and 5.5-6.5 foot tall space filled with water to the knees with a flashlight. When it was built, it was dug from both directions. We could see where they met in the middle (due to the pick-ax markings on the wall and how they change direction). The tunnel isn’t straight (sort of an S shape), and archaeologists think they must have been following a crack that they knew would meet. The builders were pretty smart!

As we exited the tunnel into the 38 degree air outside (just prior to the snowstorm), we couldn’t find a place to change for another 45 minutes as we toured the rest of the city of David ruins. The Israelis thought we were insane to be walking around slightly wet in swimsuits and flip-flops in this weather. I have to admit we were quite a sight with warm coats on the top half of our bodies and swimsuits on the bottom half. It was definitely worth it though!

Hospitality:
One of the things that most impressed me about my time spent in Kenya was the amazing sense of hospitality that I experienced amongst unselfish and wonderful people. I was prepared (by reading) ahead of time for the rough exterior of Israeli culture, but it is quite jarring having come from Kenya. To be honest, Israeli’s are downright rude and unhelpful in many cases. I have been less than impressed by this aspect of their culture. On one occasion Prentice (my travel buddy) and I were trying are very hardest to figure out how to use an Israeli calling card to make an important call to reserve a room for ourselves at our next location (which happened to be in Egypt). We worked for nearly an hour unsuccessfully at this task. We must have asked at least 8 different people to help us. No one would take the time to fully assist us even though it was apparent that we were in great need. (If I was in Kenya, I would have had a team of 8 people helping me after asking the first person… we would have had it figured out in 5 minutes or less). Anyway, finally a man from Romania who works in Israel attempted to help us by taking me to the post office to get a country code for Egypt. The people at the post office didn’t know the answer to our question off hand and weren’t about to lift a finger to help us (like clicking a few keys on their computers which were hooked to the internet, for example). Worst of all, we encountered one woman, a store employee, who we asked for assistance with the payphone in her store. I was downright furious when she had the gall to ask us for a tip for the grudging bit of help she gave us (which was limited to giving us change to use on her phone which we never got to work). We never figured out this simple problem of how to make a phone call because no one would help us (and just hoped and prayed we would find a room at Mount Sinai when we arrived). I was very irritated by this experience and it has become symbolic for me of Israeli hospitality. To be fair, there have been some very friendly and helpful folk along the way. But they have definitely been the exception.

Further reinforcing this observation has been the dramatic contrast we experienced in Egypt and in particular, Jordan. In Jordan, our taxi driver, who realized we weren’t in a hurry to get where we were going, asked us if he could stop and buy us tea or soda. We were flabbergasted that the taxi driver wanted to buy us something! We took him up on his offer and had a wonderful time getting to know him over a hot cup of tea. Even a couple of days later, we keep talking about him. But the warmth of Jordanians isn’t limited to Barak (the taxi driver). Everywhere we go they asked us, “where are you from?” When we answered they said, “Welcome… you are welcome here.” Several people indicated that if we were staying longer they would love to have us to their home for a meal. Another example of Jordanian hospitality happened in Petra, while we were struggling with a map / visitor guide that was in Spanish (the only language they had visitor guides in – go figure). A 16 year old Bedouin girl named, “Hen” gave us a guided tour of several of the archaeological ruins and made an effort to get to know us. When we had to go on our way, I tried to give her some money for being our tour guide and she refused. She had too much honor and too much of a sense of hospitality to accept money for doing something she saw as just part of being human.

As a traveler to a foreign country, the value that a culture places on hospitality and kindness is quite palpable (and matters a lot to the visitor / outsider). By hospitality, I don’t mean special silverware and fancy dinners. I mean warmth toward outsiders (often including physical needs like a meal and something to drink). I am increasingly placing a higher value on hospitality due to my positive experiences in Kenya and Jordan. Along with my experiences, I see hospitality as being one of the highest values of the early Christian community as I read the Christian scriptures. It is a value currently under siege in an individualistic culture preoccupied with selfishness (as much of America could be characterized as being). The Jesus community that I am praying and planning for in San Francisco will place hospitality high on its list of values. In fact even in our planning, this is core to our DNA and our approach to loving San Franciscans as Jesus would.

Thoughts Inspired by Jerusalem

2008-02-04T13:03:00.000-08:00

Greetings... this is part II of my trip to Israel and surrounding areas. Feel free to post your thoughts in reply

Beauty:
I was surprised at how beautiful various parts of Israel are. I guess I didn’t really picture it being so lush and fertile. On the way from the airport to Jerusalem we passed farms, vineyards, forests, and picturesque rocky hills. The guy in the mini-bus told me that everyone in the world wants this land because it is so beautiful. Ok, its pretty, but I don’t think that’s the reason. Otherwise they’d all be fighting over Yosemite.

Power Symbols and Architecture:
I just got back from a very wet and cold trip to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. I found the church very interesting. This is a very symbolic place. It is built over the place (supposedly) where Jesus died and includes the tomb where Jesus was laid (even less likely in my opinion). There are six ancient Christian sects that share (if you want to call it that) the same space. Their chanting and rituals are sometimes clashing with each other and historically speaking that isn’t the only thing clashing. The church dates back to the 4th century when Constantine commissioned it to be built. It is actually not a very pretty church since it has conflicting architecture due to being ruined in fires and earthquakes several times. And it has terrible lighting and a bit too much incense for my liking.

In Jerusalem, everything is symbolic… especially the buildings. I read recently that one of the major reasons why the Dome of the Rock was built (by the Muslims) was to visually demonstrate how Islam had superceded Christianity and Judaism. (This is per historian Bernard Lewis.) When the Muslim’s took over power in Jerusalem the late 600’s they couldn’t let the other religious symbols in the city stand alone… all empires must demonstrate their power through architecture. So they built the Dome of the Rock and the Al Aqsa Mosque. The dome is bigger, brighter (covered with a gold looking top) and in a more prominent position visually speaking than the Church of the Sepulcher with its dome. The dome was also intentionally built on the Temple Mount in a grandiose style over the rock where the Ark of the Covenant used to rest in the Most Holy Place of the Jewish Temple (before it was destroyed 600 years earlier by the Romans). The inscriptions all over the Dome of the Rock quote Qur’anic texts that are not subtle in their attempts to point out the heresy of the Christian believe in the Trinity. All of this is quite interesting… (this is part of the 3,000 year collision that I mentioned last time).

But, back to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher… I was especially provoked to reflection by something a person could easily miss. Throughout the church (and actually all over Jerusalem) you can find evidence of the Crusaders who came a 1,000 years ago. The signs I’m referring to are little crusader crosses carved into the stones. The Crusaders came and fought with the Muslims for control of Jerusalem and other parts of the “Holy Land.” Eventually they lost. Anyway, the evidence of their having been in Jerusalem is quite apparent. The little Crusader crosses, the stuff I just read about using architecture symbolically, and the six groups of clerics fighting for authority and position in this church made me think about “power.” Somewhere along the way Christianity and the symbol of the cross regrettably became associated with power and conquest. Historically, this first seems to happen with Constantine who has a vision of a cross with light (or lightning) behind it (mixing a symbol of Jesus’ crucifixion with Roman God Jupiter). Constantine then goes out in military conquest (successfully) under the symbol of the cross and makes Christianity the state religion. This is the beginning of “empowered” Christianity (Christendom). Up to this point it had thrived and rapidly expanded as an oppressed and marginalized religious movement, which Rome could not stamp out and which sprang up all the way around the Mediterranean and beyond. Constantine’s so called “conversion” is a terrible tragedy because he had no real understanding of the Christian use of the symbol or of the reality it pointed to. The cross (when seen in light of the Resurrection) was a symbol for Christians of God’s victory over evil – evil being seen most clearly as the brutal earthly regimes and movements of which Rome, herself, was the supreme symbol. Somehow Constantine and his cronies managed to rework (hi-jack) the Christian meaning of the cross to promote militaristic power and conquest.

So back to my observations about Jerusalem (and the rest of the world)… The skyline of Old Jerusalem is punctuated by symbolism: mosques with the symbol of Islam, the Star of David and the Israeli flag, and crosses. What is the purpose of these symbols? I won’t speak for the other religious groups, but it seems that many churches and Christians use the symbol of the cross as a statement of power and / or intimidation. I find this ironic because that is the very way that the Romans used it… not the way that the early followers of Jesus used it. Any person claiming to follow Jesus who uses the cross as a symbol of political power or as a way of intimidation is acting out of ignorance. I say ignorance because, although the cross was historically about power when it was used to kill Jesus, it was about the power and cruelty of an occupying force. The cross was the primary tool of mockery and condescension used by the Romans for the purpose of telling everyone else what would happen to them if they tried to stand against their power and authority. (Remember the mocking signs over Jesus’ head, “The King of the Jews” – no accident.) Thus the cross for Jesus’ followers should be symbolic of humility and total reliance / confidence in God in the midst of distress.

As a side note with regard to church structures, it is only after Constantine (historically speaking) that you find church buildings showing up in large numbers. And whatever there was before were simply humble rooms used for gathering groups too large to fit in a private home (the home being where most Jesus followers gathered). New Testament teaching has no concept of “sacred” places. In fact, quite the contrary, the Jesus Community distinguishes itself even from Judaism by distancing itself from the Jewish Temple (which can be seen all over the place in the New Testament if you know what you are looking for). The early followers of Jesus would say things like, “The whole world is the Lord’s” or “Wherever two or three gather… that is where Jesus is.” Big steeples (which were originally guard towers when they were first incorporated into churches in the 600’s CE), the use of gaudy marble and metals in grand architectural schemes and the like are all afterthoughts and have caused a deep change in the self-identity and practice of followers of Jesus. (Does it have to be this way??? Hmmm…)

All of what I have been saying makes it ironic in my mind that people claiming to follow Jesus are caught up in the scuffle over sacred space and architecture here in Jerusalem (or anywhere else for that matter). Also, with regard to power, it is also paradoxical that those who spend their whole lives trying to maintain the memory of the death of Jesus (I’m thinking of the religious orders taking care of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher) don’t pay much attention to His explicit teaching about “first and last” when dealing with each other.

One final note: In Bethlehem at the Church of the Nativity (which I haven’t visited yet due to the snowstorm here in Jerusalem) the Orthodox, Catholic, and Armenian Church can’t get along (they all share the church building) so their solution is to have a Muslim family keep the keys and take responsibility for opening and closing the church each day. Ha!

My Latest / Greatest Business Idea:
Although I have more than enough to keep me occupied in my life, I have this weird thing about me where I think of new entrepreneurial business ideas about every other week (for example: Dog grooming business, import / export business from Kenya, etc.) So far I haven’t actually started any of them yet… but they are great ideas (ok, some of them might have some merit). My newest one has to do with a need that I see here in Jerusalem. Although it seems that nobody can agree about anything here, I have found one thing almost everyone seems to agree on: smoking. So, I think a go-to-the-bank business idea would be a lung cancer treatment center. Sooner or later, everyone here is gonna need my services. (Ok, actually that is sad… but true). My personal favorite (read with sarcasm) is how the guy making my falafel sandwich smokes while he is making the little falafel balls to deep fry and then put in my tasty pita. I’d go somewhere else, but I can save fifty cents. (Just kidding… his falafels taste better actually. Ok, and they’re cheaper!)

Israel Commentary Pt. 1

2008-01-28T09:55:00.000-08:00

In the last four days, I’ve experienced a crash course on history, culture, politics, and religion. Jerusalem is overwhelming, to say the least. I’ve also frozen my back end off (it’s cold here)! Here are a few of my thoughts / experiences.

Collision:
Being in Jerusalem is hard to put words to. It is a complicated place. It is like the accident scene of a collision of cultures. But the collision has been extended over a 3,000 year period. “This is a city that has been besieged about forty different times and destroyed (at least partially) on thirty-two different occasions. The rulership of Jerusalem has changed hands some twenty-six times.” (Source: Lena Mor) Although there are more than 700,000 people who make their home in all of Jerusalem (New and Old City), inside the Old City itself, the population is much less (app. 25,000 of which 22,000 are Arab). The old city is divided into four quarters: Muslim, Christian, Armenian, and Jewish. All of these groups have a historic stake in the city. I am staying in the Muslim quarter, but the Christian and Jewish quarters are only a stone throw away. From the rooftop of my hostel, I can see the church of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher (sacred to many Christians), the Dome of the Rock (3rd most sacred place in the world for Muslims) and a part of the Temple Mount that is held up by the Western Wall (most sacred place for Jews). In Jerusalem you can literally hear the collision of religions. I get woken up at 5:00am by the sound of the Mosque (call to prayer) – which sounds like it’s in my bedroom. Church bells ring on the hour and half hour. And on the eve of Shabbat there is a siren to alert Jews.

Peace:
I have never been in a city with so many guns. Everywhere I go the Israeli military is present with M16’s, Uzis, and other weaponry. Even the guy giving out the visitor guide at the archaeological park had a pistol. It kind of feels like the wild wild west… but only the Israelis have the guns. On Friday when I arrived things were especially tense due to Arab anger at the Israeli government’s treatment of those in Gaza and the fact that many Muslims come into the old city to go to the mosque on Fridays. I must have seen more than a thousand police and military walking around inside the small walled city (which you can walk across in less than 15 minutes). They were checking IDs and hassling some people who were trying to come in. Every few meters there was a crowd of 10 or so cigarette-smoking soldiers armed to the teeth eyeing the people passing by. At one point I was trying to go out of one of the gates and I came across a crowd and obvious signs of tension. Being incessantly curious, I decided to go take a closer look. Right when I got about 30 feet from the gate with an angry crowd outside which was being held back by Israeli Defense Force (IDF) soldiers on horse and police barricades, the Muslim crowd pushed back on the barricade and started to spill into the city. (Apparently all they wanted to do was get to Mosque next to the Dome of the Rock.) I thought a riot was about to happen and so did a bunch of people with me (including a bunch of curious kids). We all started running. My friend Prentice was with me and we took off so fast that we both went in different directions. He followed some kids into the alleyways of the Muslim quarter and I just ran back up the street where I had come from. Nothing actually happened, but we decided to try another way out of the city (after we found each other again a few minutes later). The kids were unfazed… their behavior made it clear that this is a common phenomenon.

In spite of all of this, everyone in Jerusalem claims that it is “very safe.” Other places are not so safe apparently… like Gaza (as you may have heard). I bought a shirt yesterday that says, “peace” in Arabic, Hebrew, and English in an act of hope for this place. Although I have personally seen no violence, there is clearly not peace. True peace is more than the absence of violence. Are there answers to the problems posed in Jerusalem (and mirrored around the world)? I believe so… but they aren’t simple (and I certainly lack a lot of them). Whatever the ultimate conclusion / resolution is, I’m quite convinced that the answer isn’t merely tolerance (although tolerance is a serious upgrade over killing each other). Tolerance is often the result of disengagement and seems quite patronizing at one level. Tolerance doesn’t seek to deal with root causes… it often ignores “the elephant in the room.” There must be a better way. I have more to say… but I think maybe I’ll save these thoughts for another day.

Traveling cheap… too cheap:
My family and many of my friends know that I am notoriously cheap. When I’m thinking clearly, I’m not really proud of this… but it’s true. I hate parting with cash unnecessarily. So when I travel, I often survive on the edge of an impending disaster due to the corners I try to cut. But, on the upside it makes things a bit more exciting. This came back to bite me the first night I was in Jerusalem. I won’t bore you with all of the details of my experience, but let’s just say that in order to save myself 4 measly bucks, I spent the night in a complete hellhole. I’m really not sure what came over me to agree to this place. I even saw the room and agreed to it. The room (shared by my friend Prentice) was perhaps 6 foot by 8 foot with a low ceiling and odd walls. The guy who showed it to us joked about the decorations on the wall. He was referring to a colored sheet hiding a bashed in plaster wall because there were no decorations. There were big water stains on the wall and a several sections with the plaster missing altogether. I didn’t notice until I had paid that the wall also had a nice crop of mold growing on it. The room stank and had no window and no ventilation except a pathetic attempt at a loud exhaust fan. The hostel had no heat and we found out the next morning that it had hot water for only 15 minutes a day, which happens to be in the afternoon. (Seriously, who is going to come back from touring some significant religious or historical site at 3:00 in the afternoon to get a shower?) The sheets looked like they hadn’t been washed since the turn of the century and the blankets were dusty with hair in them. Note: I’m not making this up. I was being a good sport about the whole thing until the morning when I went to get a shower and stood for 10 minutes shivering naked in the filthy, freezing public shower room waiting in vain for hot water that would never come. I didn’t take a shower because I didn’t want to die of hypothermia. I became irate, which is funny that it took the shower experience to put me over the edge. Of course, as fate would have it, there was no one working at the pathetic little desk in the lobby. (The lobby was heated to a comfortable 42 degrees to match the rest of the hostel.) I couldn’t even take my anger out on the desk worker and demand a refund. It really peeved me that nobody was there. (They obviously anticipate such a situation.) So I stomped out the door looking for new accommodations. What I keep asking myself in hindsight is, “what possessed me to stay in such a place?” Seriously… I need to have a heart-to-heart with myself… four stupid dollars?

As a postscript, I have now moved into a place that is $8 more a night (for a total of $20… but it includes breakfast!!!) It is downright luxurious… as dormitories go.

A Random ATM Experience:
Today I was fresh out of Shekels, so I decided to visit the ATM where I was (in the Jewish quarter of Jerusalem). I was in the midst of withdrawing my money at the ATM machine when this little Jewish boy came up and stood like 3 inches from me (no joke). I noted that he was just at the height where he could snag my cash and split. He stood right next to me, but strangely he didn’t ever look at me. He was keenly watching the machine and my fingers punching in commands. Although he was ½ my size and ¼ my age, he made me really uncomfortable. He was dressed in Orthodox attire with earlocks and all. He must have been only about 8 years old. I had no idea what he was doing but my instincts told me to watch out. I kept my hands right next to the machine and snagged my cash and card as they were spit out of the machine. Then the kid, noting that the cash was out of the machine and in my pocket, split out of there and around the corner. My friend Prentice and I started convulsively laughing. What in the world was he doing? Does he do this regularly? Was he fascinated by the machine spitting out cash? Was he telling some gang of thugs around the corner that some naïve traveler just pocketed $200? I didn’t wait around to see on the last note. It was an odd thing to have an 8-year old make me feel so uncomfortable. I don’t have any profound insights regarding this situation… it just struck me as really funny.

I look forward to sharing some more thoughts / experiences soon. I have seen an enormous amount of fascinating and exceedingly important history in the last couple of days. Maybe if I distill something worth saying about it I’ll share some next time about that.

Kenya, San Fran, and Jerusalem

2008-01-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

In this posting, I will 1) share a few thoughts about the on-going crisis in Kenya, 2) briefly update you on San Francisco plans, and 3) share my exciting plans for the next 3 weeks with you.

1) Kenya continues to be in crisis as I write this. Although it doesn’t get much media attention here in the US, it is very difficult times for people across the whole countryside of Kenya. News articles I read this morning told me that another 30+ people died in clashes again this weekend. The humanitarian crisis developing is likely to be worse than the ethnic violence since more than 250,000 people have fled various parts of Kenya. Police continue to crackdown with unnecessary violence on peaceful protesters. In many cases, people have not been allowed out of the slums which means no work, no money, no food or healthcare. As usual, the people hit worst in this time are the poor. Massive sections of the Nairobi slums and other cities have been looted and burned. Many businesses have been destroyed. At one point I read a story that said that the hospitals in various parts of the country had run out of gauze due to the horrific number of machete and bow and arrow wounds from the violence. All of this can be rooted back to a few politicians who are so power-hungry that they are willing to destroy a country in order to remain in power. Ethnic tensions are being played by politicians as though the people were mere pawns in a game of chess. In the words of my Kenyan chaplaincy supervisor who wrote me a very sobering email a few days ago, “surely the Kenyan people have had their voices and now their democratic freedoms stolen from them.”

What makes this all very real for me was that I got an email from Edward (one of the men that we helped out) telling me the horrible news that his brother’s wife had been killed in the violence about a week and a half ago. I was deeply saddened to hear this. What an awful thing to lose a family member in this senseless violence. To complicate matters in this sad situation, the family would really like to take her body back to their home area in order to bury her properly, but they cannot safely travel to that part of the country right now. So the body is waiting in the morgue. On top of this, Edward’s business was looted at sometime during the insanity of the last 3 weeks and some of his machines and utensils to make his food were stolen. Also, at least 6 other members of the Jola Welfare Group also had their small businesses looted and / or destroyed. Edward was clearly distraught over these losses and setbacks. Tough times just got tougher for everyone living in the slums. These people need our prayers more than ever.

There have been only a few rays of hope in all that I have been reading about Kenya. First, the parliament. Because the parliamentary elections weren’t tampered with, the result of them is that the opposition clearly has a stronger position in the parliament. They are able to do some things to keep the presidential tyrant from unilaterally destroying the country (although the president is working within the confines of a woefully inadequate constitution which grants him way too much power). Many of the old corrupt politicians lost their jobs and this is changing the playing field. Basically the parliament can counterbalance a lot of the president’s actions, which is really good.

Secondly, there is still the hope of international mediation. Kofi Annan is supposed to fly into Kenya tomorrow. We need to be in prayer about this very important mediation effort. Both parties have agreed to sit down with the African Union delegation led by Kofi Annan. This is the best chance Kenya has at starting the process of seeking justice and reconciliation and restoring democracy in this fragile situation.

I will continue to keep you posted if I hear more from friends in Kenya. In the meantime, I encourage you to bring the issue of Kenya to your personal prayer times and to bring it to the attention of your friends and family.

2) I am actually writing from Chattanooga, TN right now. I am here visiting with two good friends of mine (Arlen and Andrea Farley) who are my co-conspirators for the San Francisco project I have mentioned to you earlier. We have been planning and strategizing about our impending move to San Francisco (which will happen in March) for the last 6 days. This last weekend we made four presentations to different groups sharing the compelling picture in our mind about what we plan to do in San Francisco when we arrive there. The groups we spoke with were very stimulating. We found ourselves exhausted (4 in one day is a full day) but incredibly excited after four rounds of engaging discussion. A number of people in these groups expressed excitement for our vision and some even committed to support us with prayer and finances. We are praying like never before and working from sun up till late at night to get things prepared for this adventure. Hopefully the next time I update you, I will be able to give you a link to our website which is in the final stages of being prepared.

3) The next three weeks… I am leaving on Wednesday (23rd of January) for a 3-week trip to Israel. I will be exploring the places where Jesus walked and seeing important archaeological and historical sites. (I’m going to be traveling with a good friend from Seminary on a bare-bones budget – youth hostels, etc… but that is how I like it!) I’ve heard people tell me that there are really 5 gospels telling about Jesus: Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and the land of Israel. I’ve extensively explored the first four gospels and now I am looking forward to an exploration of the fifth one. As a person who will be spending my whole life talking and teaching about Jesus, I figured it would be a good investment of time and money for me to go and experience these places. I also think there is a lot to learn there about the present state of our world (politically speaking) from this “hotspot.” Jerusalem is probably the most religiously significant city in the world. Three of the major world religions consider it extremely sacred.

Virtually everything I read about Israel says that it is one of the safest places to visit in the world. The crime rates all over the country are far lower than the vast majority of American cities. (Anyway, don’t worry, I’ll be safe!) I hope to update you about some of my experiences from Israel (depending on internet availability).

Kenya Violence

2008-01-17T14:13:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year. I am writing from southern California while visiting some friends here. I thought I would briefly write you to share a couple of brief thoughts with you about what is happening in Kenya right now and to ask for your prayers for the country. I have become increasingly concerned with the reports I have been reading. In fact, I was feeling very sad and anxious last night as I rang in the new year, having my mind stuck on the news stories I had just read on the internet. My first prayers of the New Year were for Kenya and the Kenyans who have been mourning those lost in the senseless violence following the polls this weekend.

You can get a full and constantly updated report on what is happening in Kenya right now by simply googling “Kenya” and clicking the “news” tab. Here is a hastily gathered summary in case you haven’t heard.

Kenya’s election was a BIG deal to everyone in Kenya. There has been a long and intense political race between the incumbent (Kibaki) and his main political rival (Raila Odinga). In every poll since September, Raila had the advantage by at the very least a few percentage points. The election “results” announced this weekend didn’t match these polls and are highly questionable based on a number of things. For example… voter turn-out in Kibaki (the incumbent’s) main strongholds was as high as 115% - hmmm… the vast majority of Kibaki’s cabinet was voted out in the same district that appeared to strongly support him (again, hmmm…). Furthermore, election observers from the European Union and the US noted a lot of inconsistencies in the way results were reported. Also, the election results from the disputed areas came in late (even though they were in areas close to Nairobi) and the people responsible for these election results “disappeared” for 24 hours and had their phones shut off, (etc., etc…). Finally, when the results were announced, there was an immediate negative response followed by Kibaki moving the important people to another guarded room where he wasted no time being sworn in (within an hour). All of this very clearly points to a rigged election.

Immediately, protesters began looting and killing. Kibaki responded by blocking all live media broadcasts and by putting police out in mass force telling them to shoot if people were seen out after a curfew announced in certain areas. In the insanity that has followed, more than 300 people have been killed with many more being injured. Hundreds of homes, businesses and farms have been burned and 70,000 people are reported to be displaced fearing violence. Violence has been along ethnic lines (following the way the politics goes as well). In a terrible turn of events, a church full of people looking for protection was burned today in ethnic violence and around 50 people died. Tragically, these kind of stories keep on coming in. Much of the violence in and around Nairobi has been in Kibera (where Fred, Edward, and the Jola group live) and in the other slums I have been in.

Although leaders are urging people to be calm, things are not getting calmer. The opposition feels trapped by the events of the election because, although the EU and US observers are urging the opposition to take the election results to the courts, they are not interested in having Kibaki’s cronies (who dominate the courts) make this kind of a decision. In short, democracy is on the line for this nation.

All of this matters a lot for a country that is poised in so many ways to take off economically. Until now, they have had a quite peaceful 44 year history. A civil war is the last thing they need. I am specifically praying that Kibaki (the 76 year old election-rigging incumbent) will have a change of heart and allow the people to re-vote in order to express their true desire for a leader. I am also praying that people will see beyond their own ethnic identities to love their neighbors. I know these people and they are too wonderful to do this to each other. Will you join me in praying for them over the coming days? I’m sure you understand that all of this is quite vivid to me having just left Kenyan soil barely 2 and a half weeks ago. It is all too real when you have names and faces in your mind.

Kenya Part 14

2008-01-17T14:11:00.002-08:00

I’m back home in California (at my parent’s house in Placerville). I am very grateful to be here. Traveling is exhausting. I had a bout of food poisoning in my last couple of days in Kenya, so I’m grateful for familiar food also.

It was very interesting flying out of Nairobi and landing in London (where I spent 3 days). It was like fast-forwarding into the future… clean streets, technology everywhere, entertainment galore, etc. I think it was a little bit of culture shock for me. It was also a bit of climate shock. It was pretty cold there. But it was a nice intermediate step to prepare me to come home (plus I got to see a lot of cool stuff there).

Last night my extended family had a gift swap and I realized how truly special it was to be home and around family for the holidays. I am planning to fully enjoy the next couple of weeks.

Thanks for journeying with me over the last 3 and a half months. I have been so blessed to have you as my online community.

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Here are some of my final reflections about Kenya based on my 3 and a half months as a resident / visitor here. I wrote these just before leaving Kenya (This is long… beware!)

First, the people:
• Kenya has some of the most wonderful people that I’ve met on the planet. I have been so impressed by the hospitality, kindness, and unselfishness of the people that I have interacted with. The willingness of even strangers to take me around and try to solve my problems, whatever they may be, has been quite extraordinary.
• Kenyans are an overwhelmingly religious people with very few even understanding the concept of atheism or agnosticism (I found this interesting). About 80% of the country is Christian and 20% is Muslim.
• Kenyans are wily and shrewd bargainers. I can’t tell you how many times I have finished negotiating something in the market after long and difficult deliberations in which the seller of whatever ware I was buying moaned and groaned and made me feel that I was taking their last shilling from them and putting their children into forced slavery, etc, etc… only to find out later from someone else that I paid about 100-200% too much for whatever I bought. They have this technique down to a science.
• In connection with the last point, most Kenyans I have met are not big on public integrity. A number of times I have been instructed that I should lie in particular situations. The ethical reasoning behind such instruction is that, “God knows the truth.” – Meaning, “I only have to know inside that God knows the truth… it doesn’t matter whether I tell my brother or sister a fib. I only owe truth to God.” I find this to be not such a great cultural asset as it makes a lot of room for corruption (a major problem in Kenya) and allows people to dance around the truth in pretty much any situation.
• Kenyans are a hopeful and happy people for the most part. In spite of conditions that I find abominable in many circumstances, people are quite happy. People are well tempered about whatever problem comes up and usually find a way to adapt. For example, in spite of the worst traffic jams I have ever seen, I have rarely seen people get angry or upset.
• Kenyans are extremely communal in their approach to life. Let me illustrate this by telling you about how they handle money. If a person has money, they don’t feel like it is their own. It belongs to whatever community they belong to (usually their immediate family or close relatives). For instance, one of my classmates told me about how one of her siblings who is a single woman about 29 years old got a good job here in Nairobi. Now she is the primary financial supporter of her siblings (7 total) and her parents. She does this without complaint (or without even thinking of complaining). When my friend (this woman’s sister) gets a decent paying job with an NGO someday soon (hopefully), she will start contributing to the community pot. But for now, she gets whatever she needs from her sister. That is the way it is almost everywhere I look. If you want to invest in Kenya, you invest in your community. Meaning, you take care of those who will one day take care of you. The idea of setting up a retirement fund or putting aside a nest egg or having your own independent stash of money is quite uncommon from what I can tell. The logic here is that if you take care of those around you with whatever you have, it will one day come back to you.

I struggled to understand this in a somewhat humorous way. I used to take a small snack / lunch to the hospital when I went to visit patients for 5+ hours. In my lunch I would pack some chips and a sandwich – that was my lunch. The ladies in the chaplains’ office who were the secretaries (my friends) would always ask me what I brought in my lunch. When I told them chips, they would always want to have some. (Keep in mind this is a small individual sized bag.) Out of a sense of obligation, I would let them dig into my miniscule lunch (while secretly resenting them stealing from my already small food supply). I thought it was odd that they would attack my lunch since they have their own food prepared for lunch (a much bigger and better lunch than mine). But I let them do this even though it was an internal struggle to let them eat MY lunch. But a strange thing began to happen after a couple of times of doing this. Once they had had a few chips out of my small bag of chips, they would almost always offer me some of their lunch. In fact, I would receive heaping helpings of hot, freshly cooked food that was far better than my pathetic little lunch. I realized (albeit slowly) that I received this because I was contributing to their community. My brain didn’t compute what was going on for a while because it was a foreign way of thinking to me. The logic of a communal system is quite backwards from my engrained mindset which says, “what is mine is mine and what is yours is yours.” This is not to say that we don’t share in the West… its just that we think in terms of “mine and yours” in much more defined ways. My instincts are to look out for my own lunch because I have no right to anyone else’s. This is not the way Kenyans think. Anyway, this communal mindset operates across the board in Kenyan culture from what I can tell. They have a fundamental dependence on (and trust in) community that is much higher than in the U.S.

Challenges:
• I have spoken at length about the problems of poverty, HIV, and some about corruption and tribalism. These are enormous issues that need to be worked out. As far as I can tell, there is some progress being made. What can be discouraging is the fact that there are literally thousands of non-profits and NGO’s that are working here on issues of poverty and HIV and sometimes it is difficult to see any change in the conditions as a result of their work. Some of this is because of a poor philosophical approach to the problems. Often well-meaning westerners come and see the problems here and then set up a charitable foundation or an NGO to address whatever problem they see. They do this without finding out if the problem they see is really something that people are motivated to deal with. The issue with this is that if there isn’t ownership “on the ground” with the people, it is like flushing money down the toilet… it just disappears without doing any appreciable good. A far better way to approach issues here in my opinion is to listen carefully to what people are saying they need and what they want to do. Or even better, finding a small community project that has already been started by people here in order to partner with them. (If they are motivated enough to start something on their own even with limited resources, it is a good sign.) If you start a project from scratch here, the likelihood is that it will always be YOUR project. If you partner with an existing project (of which there are thousands to choose from), the ownership will be here and people will be motivated, efficient and far more likely to succeed. (This is not just a Kenya thing… this is a truism of life.)

• I have come to realize that while NGO’s and charitable foundations can improve the life of individuals and small communities, they are quite limited in their ability to truly change a whole country like Kenya even if there is one on every street corner. The most effective way to change the conditions here in Kenya is to get good governance over a long period of time. Corruption, mismanaged resources, lack of infrastructure, etc. etc. are hindering every sector of the economy from meeting its full potential and thus hurting virtually every Kenyan family. More than 50% of Kenyans live in conditions of extreme poverty… many not knowing where they will get their next meal. (This is where I get angry). In my opinion this is absolutely and completely unnecessary. (In fact it is downright infuriating.) I have traveled around a large portion of the country now and I have to tell you that Kenya has vast natural resources. The ground is fertile and productive for miles and miles. Kenya has lakes and rivers and it has a coast and a port (in other words, its not landlocked like some countries in Africa). It has massive tourist potential (being partially tapped). There is a massive workforce of healthy people in their 20’s and 30’s. In fact, 50% of the population is under the age of 18 (This is a big “X-factor” for Kenya’s future). I could go on and on about the enormous “potential.” But it is an enormous tragedy that so many of Kenya’s natural resources have been squandered. The country has been severely mismanaged for three decades (especially for 24 years under one tyrant named “Moi”) and this is the primary reason people are suffering the way they are. The infrastructure of the country (roads / power / sewer / water) is pathetic (and that is being kind!). There are very few industries even though there are literally thousands of partially educated and trained people waiting for employment. The economy is basically a peasant economy with subsistence farmers and thousands of little businesses (things you would never see in the U.S or any developed country like people sitting beside the road selling charcoal, hard-boiled eggs, used shoes, used books, or pieces of used rope). 30 years ago Singapore and South Korea were virtually identical with Kenya economically… they have since left Kenya in the dust.

To be fair, the last five years under the most recent administration has seen some improvements… but corruption is still a major problem. The angst of the people (most of who are quite aware of the problems I’m sharing) is part of the reason politics is so heated here right now. (People are killing each other at political rallies.) We are less than two weeks from the presidential and parliament elections. But the tragedy is likely to continue as far as I can tell. The three main candidates for president have all been around politics too long (meaning they have all had brushes with corruption or have been quiet when their associates were stealing state money) and are not trustworthy. They have been making grand promises to the people, which they have inadequate plans to back up. There is no way they can keep these promises. It is sad, because the country is ripe to take off in terms of development.

The reasons behind the political and social turmoil of the last 44 years (independence in 1964) are quite complicated (though most of it has to do with “bad characters” abusing power). But part of it has to do with colonialism and challenges introduced by “the white man” attempting to conquer Africa and divide it up between European powers – making unnatural borders and forcing new ways of thinking / governance on unwilling subjects. This unnatural grouping of people together can still be seen quite keenly in Kenya. I have spoken earlier about the problem of “tribalism” here. There are 40 + tribes here. But the main problem is that the two major tribes (Luo and Kikuyu) have been locked in political / economic battle ever since independence with the others trying to figure out how they fit in. There is no doubt about it, tribalism is totally in control of Kenyan politics and it is literally destroying any chance Kenya has of ever making it to the developed world. People here realize this, but it is not likely to stop any time soon.

As a foreigner, the primary solution I see for tribalism is for parents to stop teaching their children “mother tongue.” Mother tongue is reinforcing tribal identity. “But tribal identity is air people breath… The traditions of the tribe are what give meaning and structure to peoples’ lives.” (This is what people say to me). However, I say to myself, “Let go of your traditions. They are destroying any chance you have of building a country where you have plenty of food on the table for all.” I think holding one’s ethnic / cultural / familial identity loosely and being willing to be culturally self-critical is the only hope of unity amongst people in any place in the world. (I think this is also what Jesus modeled.) Jesus was quite countercultural and quite willing to “break the traditions of the elders” (when He saw them in opposition to God’s larger aims). He even was willing to set aside his family identity. “My mother and brothers are those who do the will of God.” I think Kenyans (and others) need to do the same in order to construct a society with strength and unity.

Anyway, I guess part of what I’m saying is that we need to pray hard for Kenya… especially for Kenya’s politicians and leaders. They hold the destiny of millions of people in their hands. As one of my favorite leaders (Bill Hybels) says, “Everything rises and falls on leadership.” (Not just politicians, but community leaders, religious leaders, tribal leaders, etc.) I’ve never believed this more than now.

I will always have a special place in my heart for Kenya. It is a truly magnificent country both in terms of people and natural beauty. I have great hopes for it as I have seen the tremendous strength and courage of the Kenyan people. If you haven’t had the chance to visit here, I hope you get that opportunity someday. I hope to come back and visit sometime soon.

My experience of Kenya has changed my life in so many ways. My understanding of government, culture and tradition, God and religious practice, medicine and technology, business and economics, conservation and ecology have all been deeply impacted by my experiences. I have seen in a new way how all of these are deeply connected to each other. A holistic approach to life is the only way that makes sense of this complex world. This has reinforced my commitment to Jesus and His way – the full purposes of God for this world. I also have grown a deeper appreciation for my home country (while I can also see its faults more clearly after being away too), my family, and my friends. I can see how truly blessed I am. I hope that I can fully capitalize on the blessing I have been entrusted with in order to truly be a blessing to others.

Thanks so much for reading my Kenyan travels and commentary (and for joining me in prayer and financial support of the causes I brought to you). I plan to send you a few more updates as things in my life continue to develop (especially regarding my next stage of life – the adventure of starting a church in the heart of San Francisco!!!)

Kenya Part 13

2008-01-17T14:11:00.001-08:00

So, the last week or so has been full of numerous adventures as usual. I got to visit a couple of former classmates, which was wonderful. I also got a nice chance to do some reflecting and thinking about the future (which I’ll share more about below). Most recently, I got back from 4 days in Tanzania. I guess that’s where I’ll start.

Tanzania: I caught a bus headed for Arusha on Monday morning and arrived there by early afternoon. Arusha is the tourist capital of northern Tanzania where all of the safaris and the treks up Mount Kilimanjaro, etc are commenced. The town is also the place where the international criminal trials for the worst perpetrators of the Rwandan genocide have their trials. (I was told that the trials are still going on until next year. So far there have been only 18 successful convictions with almost 1 billion dollars spent on these trials. Back in Rwanda there have been more trials of less high profile criminals. I was hoping to get to view some of the proceeding, but my schedule didn’t match up right with the trial times… too bad as I would loved to observed a little piece of history.)

Anyway, I did my typical travel style of “no firm plans… just a guide book and a few bucks in the pocket.” It always makes things exciting. I had a little issue at the border as the Tanzanian government extracted $100 from me to enter their precious jurisdiction (they were going to gouge me by another $25 in exchange rates unless I could come up with it in American dollars – which I have seen very few of since entering Kenya). A woman on my bus offered to help me exchange money to get everything taken care of but I ended up figuring things out on my own with a local foreign exchanger. As we approached Arusha and I studied my guide book to see where I would try to spend the night, I thought I would ask this woman (the one who offered to help me) if she had any recommendations. She said she didn’t know anything about the motels but that she was meeting her aunt who might be able to help. So I took her up on her idea of talking to her aunt. I didn’t realize that this was the beginning of another extraordinary hospitality lesson. Her aunt arrived and I found myself heading off to her house in their car. My friend turned out to be an American from New Jersey who had immigrated to the US from the Congo 10 years ago (Congo has been in an almost constant state of horrible war for about 10 years).

It was very odd… we didn’t even know each other’s names until we were on the way to her aunt’s house. Her aunt was taking some white guy who her niece had met on a bus and whose name she didn’t even know into her home. Before I knew it, I was being served fresh mango juice, fresh pineapple and lunch… I was also being offered a room at their home. This all happened before I could even clarify that all I had been looking for was a recommendation on a motel. But before all of this happened I got to witness a precious moment. My friend (Louise) was coming back to Africa to visit her mother and sister for the first time in 10 years. Her mom didn’t know she was coming. There was a celebration with tears and hugs and screams of delight. So there I was in the middle of a family reunion – a complete stranger being entertained and doted upon like I was the prodigal son coming home when really it was my friend who was the prodigal. Even while it was happening, I kept laughing to myself about fixes I get myself into. In the end, I managed politely to share with them that I only needed a suggestion of a motel. But they helped me beyond that to get connected with a tour operator who hooked me up with a pretty decent deal to get to see the parks I wanted to see. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon with the family and then thanked them for their incredible kindness and went on my way. All of this was yet another tremendous lesson in hospitality for me. I can’t imagine insisting on bringing home a complete stranger to my home the way these people did. Truly humbling!

My short little camping safari was nice. The highlight was a place called Ngorongoro, which is a huge crater with an enormous variety of plants and animals all living within it. It was like the garden of Eden… except that the animals eat each other. The other highlight was my companions on this adventure. They were a married couple in their 20’s from Denmark. They had just done a 3 month tour of the US and had done quite a bit of other traveling as well. I had a great time learning about their home country and about their observations of the US. They are committed Christians and we found ourselves having much in common. Since it was just the three of us in the vehicle with driver, we got to know each other pretty well. It is has been amazing how many extraordinary people I have met in the last three months. I have been truly blessed.

The only thing bad about this little safari is that I had a hard time sleeping due to mosquitoes (my old nemeses). It was so bad on the second night that I just gave up and got out of the tent and waited for the sunrise, which was incredible (see picture).

Tanzania is more difficult to get around in with only English. My problem is that I can start a conversation in Swahili and then within 20 seconds I run out of vocabulary. I prefer traveling in Kenya where it is much easier to get around. This was brought home to me on my trip back to Kenya last night. I got on a bus that was full of drunk Tanzanians on their way from Dar es Salaam to Nairobi (who had just stocked up on another round of drinks at the grocery store when we set out). They started out by trying to talk with me (them knowing only a little English and me knowing only a little Swahili), but things went downhill quickly from simple conversation. The alcohol was seriously fueling the activity on the bus. The only way I can describe it is to say that it was like a junior high field trip gone bad… and I was not one of the cool kids. I was the one being picked on or at least butt of a lot of alcohol induced jokes (I would hear “mzungu”… and then great roaring laughter as they looked and pointed at me). They wanted me to join in their drinking games by shouting phrases at me and expecting me to respond. They forced me to say things in Swahili that I’m sure where quite off-color and then laughed at my expense. I was feeling very uneasy and threatened. A big drunk fellow came and sat in the chair next to me and made my life uncomfortable. He tried to sell me his “sister” (a drunk friend) to sleep with and / or marry. Then they declared loudly to everyone on the bus that the Mzungu was going to be giving out dollar bills. They kept yelling questions to the driver that were supposed to have originated from me like, “The Mzungu says, how many kilometers to Nairobi?”) Then they would roar with laughter and then take a few more swigs of their liquor. Basically, it was the bus ride from hell. I was trapped with a bunch of drunk people who I couldn’t communicate with and I was the source of their entertainment for more than 3 hours until they finally and mercifully fell asleep during the last 2 hours of the ride. There were a few non-drunk people on the bus, but they failed to come to my rescue. All of this discomfort was exacerbated by my fear of arriving in Nairobi by myself at 12:30AM (the bus was 4 hours behind schedule). I was sure that I would be mugged… even the locals don’t go out after 9pm. Basically I did a lot of praying. But, everything worked out. I didn’t get mugged or violated physically. But I must say I’m glad to be back in my little apartment in Nairobi with Fred guarding the gate. So, that was the end of the Tanzanian adventure and the end of my travels outside of Nairobi.

I will be here for 5 more days and then I fly to London and then home. I’m looking forward to being back home soon. I will be using my next couple of days in doing some intensive planning for my future. Some of you know that I have been working on plans for the next stage of my life now for almost 6 months. In case I haven’t told you, here is a brief sketch of my plans:

Sometime in the next couple of months I will be moving to downtown San Francisco (a community called “South Beach” which is part of an area called SoMa – South of Market street) in order to start a church with the help of a few friends and a team that is still coming together. I have been steadily working on many of the details through email from here in Nairobi with my co-conspirators (Arlen and Andrea Farley). Although we are young and naïve, we are already quite convinced that this dream will take everything we have plus a lot more in order to succeed. We feel God has called us to San Francisco even though it is probably one of the most difficult places on the planet to start a church. Most San Franciscans are quite hostile to organized religion and especially Christianity (although they are quite spiritual). This is just one of the many challenges we will be facing. We will all be working 2nd jobs in order to live in San Francisco (the highest cost of living in the U.S. apart from New York city). My “second job” will be doing real estate (which I have been doing the last 3 years during my master’s degree program). The plan is that we will become an organic part of our community – living and sharing the message of Jesus with our friends, neighbors, and co-workers. We will be working diligently on gathering a community of people who share our central desire to be students of Jesus. (I’m just giving you the barest of details right now… sometime soon I’ll share more with you. We should have a website together soon which will explain even more.) I’m so incredibly excited about this upcoming adventure. I look forward to sharing more soon.

Would you be willing to join me in prayer for this vision / dream? That is our greatest need right now.

I’ll send you one more final update from Kenya in a couple of days… I’ve been putting a few of my final reflections about Kenya down on paper.

Kenya Part 12

2008-01-17T14:09:00.002-08:00

Family: My family all safely arrived and we had quite a wonderful time together traveling around Kenya. We went to four game parks where we saw many amazing animals in their natural habitat. We had a driver who helped us navigate the often-horrendous roads. (The roads are truly atrocious in this country which is sad because it is so beautiful and would be much more enjoyable and accessible if they were to develop some infrastructure… but I digress.) We enjoyed very nice accommodations, great food, and lots of good times together.

Some of the most memorable parts of our trip were the negotiation moments in the markets. Bargaining (serious bargaining) is expected in all markets. Various family members were better and worse at it. My mom was terrible at first. She would always be so overcome with guilt that she would pay 300-400% too much for things she bought. The Kenyans preyed on her guilt to the max. I would have to come and try to rescue her before she got too taken advantage of. Kenyans are very adept negotiators. They took one look at the group of Mzungus (white people) and the price would jump from 300 shilling to 3,300 shilling. That meant there had to be some fierce negotiations to get the price back in the right ballpark. The only saving grace was that I know a few words of Swahili and used that to convince them that we weren’t as stupid as we looked. After a couple of days of market experience, everyone improved their skills vastly. By the end of the trip everyone could hold their own if they had some idea of what something should cost (which is the most difficult thing to assess without quite a bit of experience).

Animal Highlights:

Elephants: In Samburu Game Park, we got to watch a group of more than a dozen elephants (including a bunch of little baby ones) cross a river. It was quite entertaining watching them. The young ones started playing in the water and jostling with each other. They did this for about 10 minutes until one of the Elephant mamas came back to the water and trumpeted and then they all filed out of the water like respectful obedient children. The next day we came across another group of elephants who were trying to hide a tiny little newborn from us. They put the baby in the middle of them and pretended to eat while watching us and waiting for us to pass by. Elephants truly act as a community. Their behavior is fascinating to watch.

Giraffe: These are majestic animals, particularly the Reticulated Giraffe (pictured below). They seem like something from another world (but not as weird looking as the ostrich). They walk kind of like those big machines on “The Empire Strikes Back” Star Wars Series. It is also interesting to see the relationship between the Giraffe and the birds that live on them (usually three or more birds chillin on the neck of the Giraffe picking at the fleas or something).

Lions: I realized fully why these animals are the “king of the jungle” after seeing them in action. They are incredibly confident animals. Nothing messes with them. In fact, they are downright cocky. They don’t even give a rip about people. We were within a few feet of them and they would just look at us and roll over and go back to sleep. They have no predators except humans (and they are protected from us in the parks). They don’t pay any attention to people inside the safari vehicle… but I think it would only take them a few seconds to devour me if I stepped outside the vehicle. They are quite intimidating looking as they saunter around. Needless to say, the rest of the animals take them quite seriously (we witnessed an attempted hunt by 3 females at one point). We had more than 35 Lion sightings – mostly in Maasai Mara (National Park). Our encounters included seeing 9 baby cubs with a couple of moms. It was pretty cool!

I think the most “slacker” job in the animal kingdom is that of the male lion. He sleeps for 20 hours a day while the females do the hunting. Then he wakes up and kicks the females off the kill. Basically, his only job is to look impressive and impregnate the females.

We saw rhinos, hippos, crocodiles, zebras, baboons, Vervet monkeys, wildebeest, gazelle, antelope, buffalo, jackal, over a million flamingos (at Lake Nakuru), tons of other birds, and a leopard, amongst many other animals. The only animal that we didn’t see that we were hoping to see in the wild was a cheetah. That was the only disappointing thing with regard to animals. However, back in Nairobi we went to the animal orphanage and got to pet an unleashed 4-year-old cheetah in her cage. That was a pretty amazing. She really liked my brother Kevin and started licking him with her big sandpaper tongue, which he particularly enjoyed.

We didn’t see any “kills” in action, but we heard a kill happen at one of our lodges. We were out on the viewing deck with a floodlit watering hole when we saw a group of hyenas gathering. They went behind some trees and then we heard a young buffalo making horrendous crying sounds amidst hyena sounds. The moaning of the buffalo lasted for about 6 or 7 minutes. While it was moaning and crying out, three other large buffalo went running into the forest to help. An elephant trumpeted and then a rhino and a different elephant sauntered into the darkness toward the action. But it was too late for the victimized buffalo. The hyena pack had done its work well. The moaning got more desperate and then weak. Finally it stopped. All that remained was the sound of the laughing Hyenas. All of this was quite loud although we couldn’t see the actual kill happening because it was behind some trees. I have to admit that it was quite a sobering thing to listen to. I felt so bad for the buffalo. The way nature keeps itself in balance is quite cruel by human standards.

I will never forget the animals and the experiences we had while on safari. However, there is something else that I will never forget as well. The first day my family was here in Nairobi, I had arranged to have them get an authentic tour of Kibera (the slum that I have written extensively about in earlier newsletters – more than a million people in a shantytown…). Edward and Fred and Fred’s cousin took us around in midst of fairly bad conditions. It was the “primaries” for the upcoming political elections and it had rained in the morning. These two things made it quite a challenging environment. On the one hand, there were a lot of people out and about. On the other, the mud was horrendous. We all got very dirty with the rancid slum mud (all of us are on antibiotics for prevention sake). We were there for over 2 and a half hours. My family got to meet the leaders of the Jola Welfare group (which I have also written extensively about). In spite of the fact that they have so little, they made a full meal for us and served us all soda. All of this happened in a special meeting shed that they rented for the occasion. I think their hospitality was quite impressive to my family who saw the horrendous conditions in which these people live.

As my family was walking through the muddy pathways of Kibera, all of us were just shaking our heads in amazement at the things we were seeing. I would try to describe it (actually I already have), but it is truly indescribable. My dad said he had never seen anything like it in his whole life. Our family has been to Mexico many times, to Nicaragua, to Thailand… but nothing compares with this level of poverty. My dad told me that seeing Kibera was worth the entire trip to Africa. After it was over, we all couldn’t stop talking about it. It is truly life-changing to see what we saw. You would have to be non-human to come out of such an experience without being changed in some way.

While we were in Kibera receiving their hospitality, we made a promise to help the Jola Welfare Group in their project to train their women as tailors. We made a decision to take some of the extra money that many of you sent for Fred and Edward (we exceeded our goal for them due to many of you and your wonderful generosity) and put it toward their project (I’ll share more about this in a separate email reporting the status of our project and your giving). Ironically, I made a calculation error when calculating the dollar to shilling rate and I over-promised by about $2000 by what I meant to say. I didn’t realize my error until later that night. Oops… or was it providential? Either way, I’m committed to fulfilling my promise, and they could really use every penny. So, if anyone still wants to be a part of the giving, there is more room for donations! My family and I are going to continue to be a part of partnering with this group in the future. They have a beautiful and unselfish vision and I can’t think of a group of more worthy recipients.

My family departed yesterday (Monday morning) and I spent a good portion of the day getting myself re-organized. Then in the afternoon I met up with a Kenyan friend who works with a Christian non-profit (“Grapesyard Self Help Group”) in the 3rd largest slum in Kenya (Koragocha slum) which is home to 300,000 people on the outskirts of Nairobi. I got a full tour of their school, which educates several hundred children and feeds them a meal each day. They also have a vocational training school for women that does the exact same thing that the Jola group does in Kibera with tailoring skills. Ironically, they have the exact same need for more space and more sewing machines too. I also saw the home they are building in another area for 42 HIV orphans (on a beautiful 3 acre campus). I was incredibly impressed by the leader (Edmond Opondo). He is an extremely dedicated and focused man. (He wasn’t big on small talk). He has been developing this organization for 9 years. For the first 8 years he did it without taking any salary (only living off his wife’s teacher’s salary). Few leaders I know would sacrifice the way he has. But he is passionately committed to his cause. He is a wonderful visionary and God is using him in a big way. Every time I think I have seen it all here, I turn around and meet someone new or see something amazing. I’m so grateful to God for this experience.

Today I got my visa renewed, which was like going to the DMV, but on steroids. (It runs out after 3 months.) It’s hard to believe I have been here that long. Today I also went back to the hospital to visit a number of patients who I haven’t seen in two and a half weeks due to my traveling. It was a wonderful little reunion. Beatrice is looking a bit better! Tomorrow I’m going to do a home visit to one patient that went home from the hospital. Later this week I am going to visit a former classmate in her rural home area (Machakos district). Then I think I will be doing a short trip to Tanzania sometime in the next week or two. So I still have some excitement to come before I fly out of Kenya on December 13.

Kenya Part 11

2008-01-17T14:09:00.001-08:00

I just got back from a week’s worth of travels on the coast of Kenya. It was a great experience adding another layer of richness to my experience of Kenya. But I must say I’m glad to have be back in familiar surroundings with a good shower and some clean clothes here in Nairobi. The humidity and heat at the coast are quite intense especially in comparison to Nairobi’s cool climate. I much prefer the climate of Nairobi although the beauty of the coast of Kenya is extraordinary.

Here is my cliffnotes version of my adventure:

I took a night train from Nairobi to Mombasa (about 650 Kilometers). It was supposed to take 16 hours (it moves at a petrifyingly slow pace) but it ended up taking 19 hours due to debris on the track which caused us to stop in the middle of the night for 3 hours. I could have taken a bus for cheaper and it would have only taken about 8 hours, but the roads in Kenya are so miserable I think it would have even seemed like a longer trip. The train ride was interesting and generally pleasant with a little sleeping cabin and a dinner car providing food. I shared my little cabin with an American guy who just graduated from college and is volunteering at an orphanage. He was on a weekend adventure to the coast and we actually hit it off quite well even though we had never met each other before. We were traveling 2nd class which means that you are supposed to have 4 people in the cabin which is 6 feet by 7 feet with a window but luckily the train didn’t sell out. I don’t sleep well in warm places or with mosquitoes. Unfortunately both the aforementioned conditions were met such that I didn’t sleep too much. This was exacerbated by the stop in the middle of the night in which no fresh air was coming through my window. (Those pesky mosquitoes keep ruining my sleep!)

Anyhow, I made it to Mombasa just fine. My new friend (cabin mate) “Lee” and I were looking for the same sort of place to stay, so we decided to set out on the adventure together. We headed south of Mombasa (a commercial port city lacking much charm of just under a million people) to find Diani beach where we read about coconut palms and white beaches. We found our way there and got a fantastic beach cottage looking out over the Indian Ocean. It was stunningly beautiful (Robinson Crusoe-esque) and the water was like 88 degrees. Sometimes the surface of the water is in the mid to high 90’s. It is basically like bathwater! There were very few people on the beach except the “beach boys” who are the local arrangers of all things entertainment. These beach boys can be quite a nuisance or quite helpful depending on your attitude and ability to shake them off of you. While I was in Diani beach, I got to do some spectacular snorkeling, which one of the beach boys arranged for about $7. Another beach boy brought me some food a couple of times and then snaked about $5 bucks off of me in a way that I should have known better of how to avoid. But all in all, it was a good time. At night I went out and saw the most spectacular night sky I’ve seen in a while with a warm breeze blowing on me… awe… it was quite nice!

My friend Lee only spent one night because he had to take the “molasses train” back to Nairobi, so I decided to set off on my own adventure after only 2 nights in this little paradise. It was a little pricey for me - $40 a night :) (ha, I’m a cheapie!!), so I made up some cash by staying in an $8 a night place in Mombasa the next night… it was pretty dingy and Mombasa isn’t that great of a city, so I moved on up the coast by bus to a place called Malindi. I found the town to be very touristy feeling and overly commercialized. Apparently this place is like Hawaii for Italian people (since everyone was Italian minus the locals). My accommodation was quite reasonably priced ($11 including breakfast but with the toilet and shower down the hall), but I made the HUGE mistake of sleeping without a mosquito net. I think I may have mentioned before that the kind of mosquitoes that give you Malaria don’t hum in your ear. They are silent attackers. Well, I woke up with about 20 bites… they had a mighty feast at my expense. I have been careful about taking my anti-malaria medication, so we’ll see if it works.

In Malindi, everything is quite expensive and I didn’t really like the place too well. I did manage to negotiate a short snorkeling / sailing trip but in doing so my beach boy assistant managed to cheat the actual boat people out of most of their money. He was a Rastafarian dude (named “Lucky”) who kept telling me “no worries… peace, love and harmony” meanwhile he was cheating his brothers out of their hard earned cash. I didn’t know about this till afterward when I went back to get my sandals out of the boat that I had accidentally left behind. I had a conversation with one of the guys who asked me how much money I had given Lucky. We realized together that Lucky had truly gotten lucky off of me and them. I felt bad for the guys who got cheated because they were nice guys trying to make some cash in a bad season. Tourism is down because of fears about “election violence.” This fear is not without a factual basis due to the history of violence on the coast. In fact, I didn’t know it till after I left, but while I was in Malindi the police executed 5 accused thieves. They didn’t bother to check for real evidence or have a trial, they just shot them one by one in the head. The townspeople understandably got upset and said that the thieves had been falsely accused. They started rioting and burned a store and broke the windows of cars. This was all happening while I was on the beach with Lucky who was cheating his brothers while I was trying to see some exotic fish. Anyway, the police said that if these people weren’t really thieves, someone should produce some evidence to prove that they weren’t thieves. I’m wondering how an innocent person could prove that they were really not a thief... its sort of like trying to find a way to answer the question, “have you stopped beating your wife?” It is not a fair question. It was truly a “guilty until proven innocent” situation. I have no idea whether they were innocent of the accused crime, but I wouldn’t be surprised. Either way, military style execution on the spot of the crime seems a bit extreme for thievery. It is not uncommon for people caught stealing to be killed by angry mobs. They usually put chains on their hands and legs and then put a tire around their neck and burn them alive. It is quite horrible. I think it is becoming less common in recent times (thank God!).

The other thing that I noticed without much effort about Malindi was that there is a lot of prostitution. I was approached several times by sweet young ladies asking if I wanted a massage or a “complete massage.” This is the first time I’ve experienced such overt attempts at business by a sex worker. (Don’t worry it wasn’t even mildly appealing.) While I was waiting for Lucky to work out a deal for the boat for me, I actually sat down and had a conversation with one of the prostitutes. She shared a bit of her life story with me and I found it sobering. She seemed quite unhappy (understandably so). She never talked about prostitution directly with me but I knew she was one since she had already tried to solicit my business. Anyway, it was a bit of an odd conversation to have. The Italian and German tourists keep these ladies in business. I met a fellow American later in the day who told me she was there in Malindi doing research on sex workers. Prostitution is a real problem all along the coast and in Nairobi and the government is doing nothing about it.

After eating some good Italian food and spending the night in Malindi, I decided to head to my final destination before returning back to Nairobi. I had read in a book I was reading over the last month or so about a Christian conservation group called “A Rocha” which is an international group. By chance, as I was studying my guidebook of Kenya I happened to see that they have a place to stay right on the beach in a place called “Watamu.” It is a bit remote, so at first I had thought maybe I shouldn’t try to get there… but I decided to give it a chance. I’m incredibly glad that I did! From the moment I got there, I realized that this was the place I should have come for the whole time. The beach was even better than Diani beach (so white that in the morning it makes your eyes cry because it is so bright – like snow). The snorkeling was the best I’ve ever experienced with dozens of exotic fish, stingray, octopus, and great coral reef action. The place where I was given a room was only about 100 feet off the beach and they had screens on their windows!!! There was a troupe of Sykes Monkeys that hung around and enjoyed pestering the dog and stealing food. They were quite funny.

But as much as the place was serene and wonderful, it was the people that struck such a chord with me. They were so kind, so hospitable, and so diverse. There were a bunch of American and Canadian 20-somethings who are volunteers there doing various research projects like banding birds, counting turtles and monkeys, educating the locals about issues of ecology and conservation, etc. There were Kenyans in their late 20’s to late 40’s who actually run the place and then there were these two old English guys (One 80 and one in his 70’s) who were so friendly and knowledgeable. The one guy who was 80 was farmer for almost 50 years in Kenya but he is actually from the Isle of White in the UK (spelling? – isn’t that mentioned in a Beatles song?). This guy is so passionate about birds, and trees, and butterflies, and God. He has enormous energy and enthusiasm and everyone loves him like a grandfather. He is a volunteer working diligently on a little nursery of indigenous trees. He is trying to make up for the problem of many of such trees disappearing due to the exploitation of the forest by local people who use it for firewood and carving. After hanging out with him for a bit I decided that I want to be like him when I’m 80!

I was thrilled to be able to bond with this group for a day and a half although I wish I had a week or two or more to spend there. The place was like a family – the cost of spending the night there ($25) included all the meals, which I shared with the staff and volunteers. I also had the chance to be a part of their weekly prayer gathering that happens first thing in the morning on Thursdays from a rooftop that looks over the Indian Ocean.

I love what they are doing. I’m finding myself more and more passionate about being a good steward of the earth that God has entrusted to us. It has become even more important to me as I have seen the amazing exotic beauty of Kenya and also seen how humans can completely trash nature (both have evident examples throughout Kenya). A Rocha is particularly concerned with a beautiful forest only a few minutes drive from their property that is home to many species that ONLY live there and nowhere else on earth. The forest is disappearing at an alarming rate. I am praying for their continuing work. The A Rocha movement is unashamedly Christian and grows right out of the Bible’s great emphasis and concern about the treatment and protection of God’s creation (the original mandate given to humans by God). They are working in 17 countries right now and their work is expanding. I hope to partner with them in the future. In case you are interested in learning more about them, their website is www.arocha.org This last place was a wonderful time of renewal spiritually and physically from my time of volunteering and from the glitz of tourism (which I don’t find very relaxing).

I’m so excited to see my family who arrive in 12 hours. I hope to fully appreciate the beauty of God’s marvelous creation this week as we tour the game parks. Hopefully I’ll get some good pictures too!

Kenya Part 10

2008-01-17T14:08:00.001-08:00

Before I get to the regular business, I just wanted to say that the response of those of you who are helping Fred and Edward is absolutely overwhelming!! Your generosity is truly inspiring me. It reinforces in my mind what a wonderful community of people that I have as friends and family. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you – on behalf of Fred and Edward.

Now, back to the regular…

I Hope you are well. Things here are going great… except my cooking skills weren’t so great tonight. I tried cooking beans for dinner (from a bag of dried beans… not out of the can). I didn’t realize how long it takes to cook them. I spent almost three hours cooking them and they were still hard. But my housemates and I were hungry (it was 9:00pm) so we ate them anyway. I’m looking forward to good ole canned beans again!

HIV (pt 2): In one of my last newsletters I shared a few thoughts about HIV / AIDS. I have been reading and reflecting more about it, so I thought I’d share a few more thoughts. It is hard to comprehend how massive this issue is here in Africa until you are here. It impacts every family, every neighborhood, every city, and every country. The reason it is so impacting here is that although Africa represents only 1/10th of the world’s population, it has 70% of the HIV infections of the world. There are countries here in Africa that are losing more 300,000 people a year… and these are people who are supposed to be in their most productive stage of life.

One writer I read recently put the whole thing in perspective for me. (The following paragraph is not for the faint of heart.)

“Unquestionably the greatest emergency facing the human family today is the HIV / AIDS virus. It is devastating human life on a scale that can scarcely be grasped. Imagine twenty 747 airliners crashing to earth every day, killing all passengers. At least that many people (approximately 7,000-8,000) die every day from AIDS-related illness… The world was horrified by the attack of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York on 9/11 in which some three thousand people died. Africa suffers the equivalent of two 9/11’s every day. The tsunami in the Indian Ocean in December 2004 carried off some 300,000 people in a single day. HIV/AIDS inflicts the equivalent of a tsunami on Africa every month… twenty million have already died of AIDS; and at least sixty-five million will have died by 2020… A new AIDS orphan is created every fourteen seconds… There are sixteen thousand new infections daily.”

(This comes from a book called, “The Mission of God” by Christopher J.H. Wright)

I find all of this nearly unfathomable. What I am seeing “on the ground” each day gives testimony to the fact that the implications of the HIV/AIDS pandemic impact everyone. Someone has to take care of the sick person. Someone has to become the breadwinner. Someone has to take care of the sick person’s children. Someone has to earn more money in order to feed people he / she didn’t expect to have to feed. Yes, ARV’s are available, but they cost money and they aren’t worth much if you can’t get consistent nutrition and keep your body in proper health.

This is perhaps one of the most insidious parts of the situation…There is a very strong connection between poverty and HIV. Poor people don’t eat well, don’t have access to good medical treatment, don’t have an easy way to avoid germs and disease (think of the open sewers, close corridors, lack of clean drinking water, etc of the slums that I described). All of these things make it far more likely that an infected person will die quickly once they contract the disease. (This is in contrast to the “west” where people like Magic Johnson are living in near “perfect health.”) Women in desperation who turn to “emergency sex” to get food for their children become victims not just of poverty of AIDS… if their children are breastfeeding you add the strong possibility of mother-child transmission – another victim. And then once AIDS takes its course and the person dies, a community has lost yet another productive, working person. Because of this, entire villages have been decimated. You can see how the cycle of poverty is like a vortex sucking entire communities deeper into poverty and despair. It isn’t uncommon to hear of people who are told in the hospital that they have “retroviral” disease (the staff fear using the term “HIV” or “AIDS”) committing suicide. Just a couple of weeks ago someone jumped from the 7th floor. It happens on an average of more than one a month in the hospital. Everything that I continue to learn about HIV/AIDS reinforces in my mind that the virus is truly the embodiment of evil.

Every day I greet the woman who works as our “house help” where I stay. Her name is Theresea. She cooks, cleans, and looks after the house during the day. At night she goes home to 10 children… none of whom are her own. (Her own children are in their mid 20’s.) Three of her sisters of have died now (at least 2 of them from AIDS) and left their children for her to take care of. So here is a woman in her mid to late forties who alone (she has no husband) provides for and raises all these children. The children range in age from 3-12 (if I remember correctly). The youngest one got HIV from her mother through mother-child transmission (either at birth or while breast feeding). I have not been to her actual home, but I have been in the “neighborhood” where they live. It is basically a slum area with a bit more of a rural twist to it. Life is challenging for them to say the least.

One thing that I found out recently that surprised me beyond belief is the fact that if you ask most Kenyans about where the disease came from, they will tell you that it was created in laboratories in the US. – This is the myth hanging around African circles. Of course everyone you ask in America will tell you that it comes from Africa (usually some story about monkeys and the “jump” to humans). Of course nobody knows where it came from (although there are many theories and new research that actually points to Haiti). But it makes for interesting dynamics… everyone blaming everyone else. And then if you add in the next layer of blame, it gets really ugly. “HIV is the consequence for sin… the judgment of God.” This is one of the most ignorant and horrific statements I can imagine. I have even heard people talk about “those African heathens and their immoral lifestyle” etc, etc. The truth is that African women and men are unfaithful to their spouses at about the same rate you find in every other region of the world. I’m not denying that there are cultural dimensions to the issue, but the matter of issuing condemnation on people is terrible tragedy and misses the point. (I wonder what would happen to me if I received the consequence of every bad thing I have done? And, this doesn’t even take into consideration the millions of “innocent” people who have been infected through completely “proper” behavior…)

Anyway, I’m now officially getting off my “high horse.” It is just all to real here for me not to share plainly with you about what is really going on. As I mentioned before, I do see hope for this crisis. There are many people devoting their entire lives to this issue. More people are needed. To truly solve the HIV issue, we must deal with a number of things: poverty, access to quality healthcare, education, proper governance, employment, spirituality / religion. All of these impact HIV/AIDS. My prayer is that I (and you) will not become calloused to this issue or become apathetic simply because we are a long ways away.

In other news… I am finished with my hospital / practicum time (Clinical Pastoral Experience) and I will be graduating on Friday. I have mixed feelings about being done. I will miss and not miss going to the hospital each day. I have learned an enormous amount after spending hundreds of hours in the hospital. One of the things that I have learned is the philosophical difference between Kenyan medical treatment and American treatment. In the Kenyan system, complete transparency with the patient is not a high value. Many of my patients have very little understanding of what is wrong with them and even less understanding of what the doctors are doing in terms of treatment. A perfect example is Beatrice, whom I have written about before. I was talking with her today and she was frustrated because she has no idea what the doctors are doing with her right now. She has been in the hospital since April and doesn’t even know her “next step” towards recovery. I see this every day. A person will ask the doctors about their treatment and the doctors will either give an explanation that doesn’t make sense or will chide the patient for “not trusting” them as the experts. In my opinion (as a non-medical person), this is a HUGE problem. The patient is not considered as an important part of the solution or as part of the team that makes the medical decisions. I see the negative effects of this everyday. In fact oftentimes the doctors will not tell patient that they are going to die even when everyone knows it is imminent. Because of this, the person and often their family do not have time to take care of “the final details” or prepare adequately for death. The ethics behind this are atrocious if you ask me.

So you can see that this is a disturbing issue. Wow, I’m on a roll today. It all sounds very negative. Sorry. I actually don’t feel negative right now. (Just realistic!)

I will severely miss some of the patients that I have built wonderful relationships with. Although I am traveling for a few weeks, I have promised a few of them that I would come back and visit. I will particularly miss the children recovering from burns. These ones are precious! I wish you could meet them. Since it was my last day, I brought them some bubble gum and stickers, which made them so excited. When they understood that I was leaving, they looked at me so mournfully. The ones that are mobile walked with me to the door of the ward to say goodbye. As soon as I was out the door, I couldn’t stop myself from shedding a few tears as I made my official exit from the hospital. These kids really impacted me. I’ll never forget them.

Here is my schedule for the next couple of weeks:

I am riding the train to Mombasa (the coast of Kenya) where I will explore and do some R&R for about a week by myself. This is truly an adventure since I have no firm plans including no arranged lodging or anything else. Hopefully I will just mesh right in with the crowd (likely, eh?). Then after exploring the coast I am traveling back to Nairobi to meet my family (mom and dad, 3 brothers, one sister-in-law) who will be joining me here in Kenya for about 9 days! We will be doing some of the touristy stuff (safari, etc). I’m really excited to have them come and join me to see the things I have been writing about. They are going to be meeting Fred and Edward and will be going on a tour of Kibera… - should be interesting! My family does a big, “special” trip every couple of years… this time its Kenya. They decided to do this after I had already landed in Nairobi, so this is a nice surprise and an adventure I’m looking forward to.

I’ll keep you posted about my travels and adventures. Next time I promise to do a better job of staying off my “high horse.” :)

Kenya Part 9

2008-01-17T14:07:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I’ve realized that there is an important ongoing piece of my story that has been left out until now. I’m speaking of hair. There is a lot to this, so bear with me. When I’m in the hospital wards where there are young boys (age 8-15 or so), they marvel at my arms. No, not how muscular I am… but how hairy my arms are. This is funny to me, because I am less hairy by far than the typical Caucasian male. But to these boys, any visible hair on the arm is quite interesting since their arms are as smooth as silk. They love to rub my arm because they have never seen so much “white hair” in such a funny place. One of the boys referred to me as “Esau” because of my hairy arms. If I really want to impress these boys, I pull up my pant leg a bit and show them a real treasure trove of hair on my calf. This whole scenario surrounding the hair has not just happened once or twice… it happens at least once or twice a week to different patients. Whenever it happens, there is great laughter on both sides.

There is also a bit of fascination with others towards my growing mop of hair on my head (I fear having it cut because I’m not sure these people know how to cut Muzungu hair). My classmates have had to have a touch just because it is a bit different than their own hair. In the last week, two of my classmates decided to try some different hair-do’s on me (only half-way with my permission). I’ve attached a couple of pictures with the results… and you can decide if they are styles I should adopt. For now, I’m sticking with my own designs.

Women here in Kenya really have a good time with their hair. Salon’s are a big business here. For some reason everyone pronounces it “Saloon” which of course means something quite different in the US. I kept wondering why women told me they were going to the bar to get their hair done. I thought it was quite a novel idea – alcohol plus hairstyling… could create some very interesting results. But, in truth, the “Saloons” are just plain old hair salons after all. But anyway, the women here get “new hair” on a regular basis. You might see someone one day with very short hair and the next day with long braided hair of a different color. Ladies do the braided weave thing (not sure of the proper name) to their hair and wigs are pretty popular here too. I’m always walking down the street trying to assess whether the woman approaching me has real hair, a wig, or some combination of real hair and fake hair woven together. It is quite entertaining. If you don’t like your hair, you can go get some new hair tomorrow.

Massai Adventure: This last weekend I had the opportunity to go on a short 2-day trip to visit one of my classmates in her home area along with 2 other classmates (my roommate Emmanuel and another classmate Veronica). The classmate we were visiting (Priscilla) is a “Massai” (tribe) which are famous in Kenya for many things: their bright, bold traditional clothing, the fact that the men always carry a stick with them wherever they go, big (I mean BIG) holes in their earlobes… and they are also famous for their “warriors” that can kill a lion single handedly (although this doesn’t happen anymore). As for me, I really like the “carrying a stick” thing. It just feels right to have one in your hand when you are walking somewhere. I’m not too keen on the earlobes thing though – it doesn’t look comfortable.

One of the unique things about their culture is that when women and younger men approach an older man, they don’t speak until the man has touched their head. So people will come towards you and put their head down so you can touch them on the top of their head. If you didn’t know why they were doing this, you would wonder why these people were looking like they might ram you with the top of their head. I had young boys and girls do this to me. (I have to admit that I kind of enjoyed touching their heads). For the culture, it is a sign of respect for age. For me, since I was an outsider, they let me get away with shaking hands and only laughed at me when I tried to put my head out for someone to touch it.

Priscilla (my Massai friend – there is a picture of her below) was a wonderful host. We enjoyed good food, a tour of the place she works (an NGO dealing with HIV and Malaria), meeting her friends and family, and relaxing in her little home. She also took us to her church (an Anglican church in a structure made of some iron / tin sheets that appeared to be in the middle of nowhere). She wanted us to see how church is done in Massai-land. It is very interesting how much of a tribal influence could be felt in the church. It is wonderful the way the church has contextualized the message of Christianity for their setting. There is much singing and dancing (everybody dancing – including me!) which is done in a traditional form… but with the ever present and often off-key electronic synthesizer keyboard blaring loudly from a speaker (something I’ve noticed in virtually every church I’ve been to). The youth of the church actually did much of the leading of the music. We danced and sang for at least an hour altogether. Although there were about 70 people in the church and they usually do everything in mother tongue, because I was there they had someone translate many portions of the service including the sermon. (This reflects the extremely high value of hospitality in their culture… to translate for the purpose of one person!) The church service was 3 and a half hours long. I don’t think I’ve gotten used to that kind of length yet. But in spite of the length it was a good experience.

The terrain was much dryer and more of what I thought Kenya would look like (before I arrived). I have included a picture of a cow-dung house (an upgrade from some other forms of housing apparently) which shows the terrain. It still wasn’t too hot because the elevation was high. There were lots of thornbush trees and beautiful birds. I also saw a giraffe eating beside a road about a mile from the church where we were. Unfortunately, the area is struggling with a drought right now. Priscilla’s brother in law has a well / rain water collection system that is allowing fifty households to continue surviving. It was yet again another demonstration of how a communal society works. Overall, my short experience with the Massai people was enjoyable.

Children in 4D (burns recovery): I have befriended some small children in the burns recovery unit in the hospital. They are really precious. Many of them are recovering from very serious burns. One particular girl has caught my attention. She was severely burned and then due to complications with the burns she had to have an arm amputated and now she has skin cancer from the burns (this is all in a five month period). It is hard for me to comprehend how one little precious girl (6 years old) could have such bad luck. She is in a lot of pain and even though I have seen her on a number of occasions, I’ve yet to see her smile. Usually she just softly whimpers. I can’t communicate with her, but I often sit next to her bed for a few minutes and stroke her arm or her head. Sometimes I will help her to drink because she doesn’t have the strength to hold her own cup. Her name is Sebasia. Her situation is very sad.

In contrast to her, there are a bunch of rowdy little 3-5 year old boys who are always up to some mischief (it is not too mysterious how these one’s got burned). All of the kids (about 10 or so) are put in a particular room where they run wild. The nursing staff really has their hands full. But part of the problem is that they don’t put diapers on these kids. They just run around and pee whenever they get the urge. Needless to say, this little room is not the cleanest place in the hospital. But I enjoy the energy of the kids. They are quite resilient little tykes considering what they have been through!

HIV Seminar: Last week we had a whole day dedicated to an HIV seminar that Sister Janet put on. She is credentialed as an HIV educator and does a minimum of 30 minutes of reading every day on the subject. She has been working with HIV infected people from the late 80’s and has a vast amount of experience. It was an excellent and informational experience. For a good portion of the day we focused on the treatments that are available to HIV infected people (Anti-retrovirals – ARV’s). It is amazing how these treatments are really changing the lives of millions of people despite the fact that they are not a cure. The disease is truly horrific – I see its results everywhere I look. The needs of the African continent surrounding the issue of HIV are enormous. From what I understand, there are over 30 million HIV infected people in Sub-Saharan Africa and 12 million AIDS orphans. This number grows each day. Part of what makes me so sad is hearing the stories about how slow (and in some cases resistant) the church has been to address this issue. I’m glad to see this becoming an ever more prioritized issue in churches both here and back home. There is more than enough work to go around.

I only have one more week of my 10 week CPE training program. I will be graduating on November 9 (but will continue to be here in Kenya for another month). I would invite you to come to graduation if you were here. But hopefully Fred and Edward and some other friends I have made will come.

Kenya Part 8

2008-01-17T14:06:00.001-08:00

This week again proved to be a week of interesting experiences. I celebrated “world mental health day” at Mathari mental hospital in Nairobi (no, I was not admitted). I don’t usually work at this hospital, so it was a new experience. They have more than 500 mentally ill patients and a full drug and alcohol rehab facility (not state of the art by any means). I had a very impacting conversation with a woman who had destroyed her life with alcohol and drug abuse but who has made a tremendous turn around since she has been in rehab 6 weeks. She was admitted by her brother against her will in the beginning of September, but after 10 days of drying out she voluntarily decided she would stay for an 3 months. She wept bitterly as she told me about how irresponsible she had been with her life. It was a powerful demonstration of repentance… no excuses, no blame, no justification… just plain sorrow about her life and its destructive results. She has recommitted her life to God and to seeking a life of service, justice, and love. I walked away from the conversation thinking, “Only God can do a change that drastic in such a short time.” It was quite inspiring.

I also went back to Kibera (the biggest slum in Nairobi). I had a very inspiring visit with Fred and Edward and their community welfare group leaders. These people are so amazing. They have so much wisdom and insight into the needs of their community. It was quite a humbling experience. I walked in with lots of things to say to them and instead I ended up with a master’s level course on how to solve community problems. All I could do was shake my head in amazement and affirm what they are trying to do. Truly inspiring! I have attached a description of what they are doing, which they spent quite a bit of time writing up for me. When you read it, keep in mind that most of these people are not very educated and many are struggling very much to provide for their families. You will be surprised at their resourcefulness and future-oriented thinking! The picture is of some of the leaders I met with.

I wanted to mention that one thing that is so striking to me about every home I have been in inside the slum. Each one is impeccably clean. Even if they have dirt floors they are very clean and organized. These people have enormous dignity within their private spaces. Every home (even it is only 50 sf) has a coffee table and some chairs for guests. Hospitality is king even in the slums. Also, when people come out of slum to go to work, you would never know where they came from. They are dressed in suits and ties and look like they are headed for Wall Street. This is not what I think of when I think of poverty. This experience has demolished any idea I had in my mind about the connection between irresponsible behavior and poverty. (Oftentimes we think of poverty in the US being connected to alcoholism, laziness, irresponsible use of credit, etc. Because of this we can stigmatize the poor… This is totally unjustifiable here from what I have seen.)

This week I started thinking about things I missed from home and things I didn’t miss. Then I started thinking about things I will miss when I leave Nairobi and things that I won’t miss. In true David Letterman style, I’ll give you my top 10 starting from 10 and ending up at number 1.

Top 10 things I miss about home:

10) Playing Sports: I have done very little exercise other than walking here in Nairobi. I miss playing organized sports. Other than “football” (soccer) there aren’t really sports being played around here (and I’m not really a big soccer fan – with apologies to those of you who are big fans of the sport). I miss the variety of sports that I get to play while in the states.

9) Mexican Food: I already talked about this, but I am still amazed that the amazing cuisine from “south of the border” has not entered Kenya. I never realized how much I love Mexican food until now.

8) My cell phone: I know this seems stupid, but having instant access to people with a phone is so nice. Here in Kenya I bought a cheap phone that I use for emergency or very short communications. But I don’t like to use it because it is difficult to understand people and it is quite expensive (15 cents a minute or more). The interesting thing is that everyone from the richest to the poorest in Kenya has a cell phone. It has become a necessity that has changed the way life is done everywhere. I’m grateful to have a cell phone, but I don’t use it the same way I do in the US (where I use more than 1500 minutes a month).

7) Carpet: I have not been anywhere with carpet in a long time. I miss being able to take off my shoes and walk around comfortably.

6) Fall colors / deciduous trees: Being so near the equator makes for less seasonal change. The only change in season around here has to do with rain cycles. We are supposed to be in the “short rains” but there has been very little rain here.

5) American Sports News: I get zero news about the NFL, College Football, Baseball, NBA, etc. Kenyans don’t care about any sporting news other than soccer, rugby and cricket along with an occasional track and field event.

4) Screens on windows: I think I already ranted and raved about this one in an earlier newsletter. I don’t understand why the screen business isn’t the biggest thing in Nairobi. Do people here like mosquitoes buzzing in their ears at night? There is a solution!!!

3) Drinkable tap water and decent toilets: I miss going to any faucet or drinking fountain to get a drink. I also look forward to returning to a place that thinks that toilet paper is a human right and not a luxury.

2) High Speed Internet: I admit that I am completely internet dependent. I never use a phone book, I never buy a map, I never run out of stuff to research back at home… but here the internet is virtually worthless unless you have a lot of time to kill.

drum roll please…

1) Ok, I’m not just being PC… But truly, I miss you (family and friends). Thanks for reading my thoughts and writing back. I have wonderful friends here, but they don’t replace the ones at home.

Honorable Mention… American TV: TV here is really not so great. The Kenya-made TV shows are like home videos that I could shoot. The imported soap operas from Mexico and Asia are less than exciting…although they can be quite entertaining with the terrible English voiceovers. American wrestling is actually one of the highlights (I hope that puts it in perspective).

A few things I don’t miss from home:

1) News about Brittney Spears and other idiotic celebrities. I could care less if I ever heard a story again about these characters. Thank God this part of American media isn’t exported to Kenya too frequently. Aren’t there more important things to talk about than stupid celebrities and their irresponsible behavior?
2) The cost of living: I can live here quite comfortably for about $30-45 a week including my housing, food, and transportation. When I move back and things are 10-15 times as expensive, that will be a wakeup call.

Top 10 things in Kenya I will miss when I go home:

10) Music: I have really enjoyed the different taste of music here. I mentioned that the church services are refreshingly different including so much dancing with the music. Reggae is big here… I already liked reggae before I came, but now even more.

9) Conservative Dress: (This probably sounds kind of weird… but that’s ok. I’m not advocating a return to the Victorian age don’t worry!) It is refreshing not to have half naked bodies every direction I look. There is a lot of dignity in the way these people dress themselves.

8) Smiles and Friendliness: Even strangers are friendly and helpful. They will go out of their way to assist you with whatever you need.

7) Public Transportation: It is amazing how quickly you can get to virtually anywhere in the city (if traffic isn’t bad) using public transportation. I will miss the convenience of hopping on a bus / matatu and getting somewhere quickly. I usually only wait 20 seconds between public transportation options (Buses and Matatus are about every other vehicle on the road). And, the public transport is quite exciting (meaning you fear for your life every time you get aboard!)

6) Kenyan Politics: I’ve mentioned that Kenyans are crazy about politics. I have been learning so much about the ins and outs of their system. It is quite entertaining.

5) Roadside stands: You can get anything from umbrellas, nail clippers, and used books to tons of fresh produce on virtually every other corner. It is quite nice and quite cheap. I can get 4 beautiful ripe tomatoes for 15 cents. I can get a perfect Pineapple for a little more than a dollar.

4) Fruits: I recently discovered passion fruit. That is some good stuff! Oh, and the mangos are just starting to creep into the market. Pineapples are amazing here and the little sweet bananas are pretty great too.

3) Tea: I love having teatime built into the schedule of each day. There is always someone to stand around and talk with while sipping excellent tea. I am going to have to bring some tea home.

2) Hospitality: This is a tremendous cultural asset that Kenyans have. I love the communal aspect of things. When I go to the poorest parts of the slums, they still offer me a cup of tea and something to eat. They may have to borrow from a neighbor, but they insist on offering me such a gift. I hope some of this rubs off on me. I am always in a hurry to go somewhere and if people don’t fit in my schedule, I struggle to be a very hospitable presence.

1) Friends and Classmates: I have grown quite close to my colleagues and I will truly miss them. We have a great time laughing, learning, and serving together. I will also miss my supervisors. They are wonderful people who I have learned and enormous amount from.

Some things I won’t miss from Kenya:

Mosquitoes, Nairobi traffic, Ugali (cornmeal dish that is a staple for much of Africa), language confusion in communicating, Exhaust / pollution from vehicles, B.O. smell everywhere you go, being asked for money on an average of at least once a day (simply because I am white).

I am now more than halfway through with my time in Africa. I wonder if I will learn as much in the second half as the first. I have two and a half more weeks in the hospital and then some traveling and then some more volunteer work. It should be interesting. Thanks for continuing to journey with me.

Blessings,
Ryan
PS – Beatrice and I had a great conversation today… she is making small steps towards health. She is a fighter! Our prayers are making a difference.

Kenya Part 7

2008-01-17T14:05:00.001-08:00

I just got done eating some mighty fine Italian food that I made. My cooking skills have improved! I am in charge of cooking on Tuesday nights. I actually welcome the chance to cook because it allows me to introduce my own desired cuisine to our household. Anyway, I hope you are well. I’ve now entered my 7th week here in Kenya. In this update, I will share a few recent experiences and a few thoughts.

Music: You can tell you are in Africa just by the sounds you hear as you walk around. There is music everywhere (including really LOUD reggae music in the mini-bus matatus – public transportation). I have been especially blessed by the singing. These people really know how sing. The harmonies are rich, the voices strong. There is a choir that practices at lunch sometimes in the hospital breezeway. I like to stop and just listen to them sometimes. Often our classes start with singing. It is wonderful to absorb (since I don’t know the words or the tunes, that’s mostly all I can do). I wouldn’t mind having African praise and worship music year round in my church. I’m going to have to buy some music before I come home.

Burns Recovery: I have been spending time recently in the burns recovery ward in the hospital. I have actually come to find this to be my favorite place in the hospital. Each 8-10 bed ward is like a mini-community. The people are there for long-term recovery sometimes spending as many as 4-5 months in the same room (depending on the extent of their burns). So they get to know each other quite well. Their minds are active and strong though their bodies are severely scarred and in need of healing. I have spent quite a bit of time with one particular room full of women who have been quite severely burned. It is hard for me to comprehend the trauma that these ladies have gone through. Almost all of them were burned in accidents that involved kerosene from their cooking stoves spilling on them. Many of the houses have no running water in them, so its not like one can just go and turn on the shower and put out a fire. Some of the stories I have heard include a person having to run to find water at a community water tank while their clothes and skin are still literally on fire. The stories are horrific and the scars even worse. In the midst of all of the tragedy there are strong currents of hope flowing. It is wonderful to see how the women care for each other. They are very appreciative of visitors who come to break up the monotony of sitting in a hospital ward with nothing to do.

I met a woman whose story was so sad that while I sat next to her bed drying her tears (because her hands were too severely burned for her to dab them herself) I couldn’t help but weep with her as she told her whole story. The story is too long to convey, but it explains how she came to be a single mother (the husband beat her until she left him with her 2 children under the age of 4) living in a slum making sometimes only 200 shillings a week ($3.15). She and her children sometimes don’t eat for several days due to lack of money. She told me about a job that she considered good. The job is peeling a 90 kilo bag of potatoes (small ones, not the big ones we use for baking), which takes 7-8 hours and pays a whopping 80 shillings ($1.20) for one’s work. This is enough money to feed her children. One of the hardest things to hear in this woman’s life story is that at one time she lived in the very neighborhood I live in (an upper middle class area)… this was before her father and mother died and the uncles stole the family money and left her and her younger brother desolate.

Anyway, picture this woman with no resources, two children under the age of 4 and then imagine the trauma of her having her kerosene stove exploding and burning her hands and arms and everything from the waist down severely. (Her children were miraculously saved by someone coming into her home and putting out the fire while she was trying to extinguish the fire burning her.) The fire happened at 9:00pm. She went to a private hospital near where she lives with her flesh charred and in severe pain and was turned away because she could not come up with the required 10,000 shilling deposit. She then had to travel some distance to Kenyatta hospital (the government hospital) where she had to wait in line in “casualty” (The E.R.). She didn’t get seen by a doctor until 7:00AM the next morning. I wanted to go and beat up the staff / administration at the private hospital when I heard that. I can’t imagine turning away a severely injured person like that. Do they even have a shred of humanity? Anyway, this woman is one week into a long term recovery process. A neighbor has been kind enough to take care of her children while she is in the hospital.

As I have been talking with this woman over the course of the week that I have known her, I find her to be resilient - showing signs of hope. She talks glowingly of her community and how they rally around each other. They share their bread crumbs with each other. They love each other. It is quite inspiring to hear her talk about the way people have banded together. Whenever I am tempted to think I am having a bad day, I just have to think of this woman. I will never know the challenges she has faced and will continue to face the rest of her life. I share this story because this woman has deeply impacted me. She is the face of poverty to me. The kind of suffering she is going through should not exist in our world… but it does. It continues to motivate me to want to be a part of the solution.

Hope: On a similar note, I had the chance to visit another very large slum in Nairobi called Mathare on Saturday. (By the way there are 168 separate slum communities in Nairobi alone – some are quite small while others are huge… like Kibera, which I told you has over a million occupants). Quite honestly, I was not looking forward to the visit because I have been so overwhelmed by the amount of poverty that I have encountered that I just wanted to escape it all for a while. But since I had committed to meet a friend, I went and was pleasantly surprised. After seeing acres and acres of poverty, I was introduced to a project that some of the people were doing. The project involved a large community group of slum dwellers who had worked together to save a large amount of money (10 shillings a day per person x 75 members x many months = decent savings) and who then worked to convince the city council to give them a small piece of land on which to build permanent structures. They used their own labor and connections to get their building materials quite cheaply and built themselves a wonderful and beautiful little community in their section of the slum. Everyone gets a one-room block building to start with. Then as everyone continues to donate to the community fund, they build upwards up to three stories high. Each home is equipped with a bathroom complete with a shower and proper drainage and kitchens. They are quite nice. They have perfected a simple and economical model for building that is structurally sound. They have done this with minimal help from outsiders. This gives them enormous pride and dignity in what they have done. It was a huge encouragement to see people working effectively together to overcome their challenges. (Note the T-shirt that one of the community members was proudly wearing in the picture)

My friend that showed me the slum and the community project is a tailor. He showed me his shop where he makes suits. I couldn’t resist, so he is making me a suit. Can you believe that I will get a tailored suit for $30? I hope it turns out ok. Hopefully the proverb, “you get what you pay for” won’t be true in this situation.

Speaking of money, I have to tell you that one of my greatest struggles has been dealing with my inner conflict and guilt around the issue of money. This is already a problem I have in the U.S. It has only been amplified here. It is difficult to hear the kind of stories I shared above and see the kind of living situations that people have and not have it cause one to reflect. Quite honestly I don’t have any great conclusions to share… I have a nice computer, a nice car, stuff like an Ipod and a digital camera and some money in my bank account. I’m not rich according to American standards, but I live like a god compared to some of the people I encounter. How do I as a Jesus follower respond to this? I don’t know. I don’t like it… and I have a feeling this will haunt me for the rest of my life. If I give away my stuff, I could help a few people. But I’m not sure it would be wise to do this since when I get back home I would have to become reliant on others the same way many of these people are reliant on others. This seems less than an adequate solution. But what to do… I don’t precisely know.

I have been helped by some of my classmates around this issue. I shared my autobiography with my classmates as part of our class curriculum (they shared theirs as well). I heard stories of great struggle and yet of great joy too. When they heard my story and when I shared my guilt about what I perceived to be a financially privileged upbringing, they responded with confusion. (What would make you think that we would want to live the life you have lived???) As one of my classmates said, “We all struggle… just in different ways.” While I’m not sure this has resolved my inner struggle, it has put a new perspective on things for me. It is true… one cannot compare things from one setting to another as though it is apples for apples. There are so many factors. Africans disdain the individualistic society of the west with its set of struggles. These types of struggles seem much worse to them than lacking food once in a while. Without community life is meaningless. - Poverty with community is a thousand times better than wealth in an individualistic setting. I continue to learn from my classmates…

So, I guess my way of thinking about this now is that I need to strive for simplicity and efficiency in whatever setting God places me in (as living costs vary dramatically around the world). I need to be generous and soft-hearted with a long-term outlook. Most importantly, I need to listen to promptings of God since there is not a clear-cut answer to this dilemma. (We are not all called to live at the same financial level). The question I have to ask myself is, “what can I do to make the most difference with what God has entrusted me?” What do you think…is this on-track? Although this helps me, I’m not really satisfied. Through an accident of history I was born into opportunity that I did not choose. It really isn’t fair is it?

Beatrice Update: I’m thrilled to be able to tell you that Beatrice is making very solid progress. She is eating regularly, sleeping well, and her lungs have not been bothering her. She even walked about 50 feet today with the aid of the medical staff. Walking is something she hasn’t done for over four months. The doctors have her on some new medicine and tell her that in a little less than a month, they plan on doing a surgery to remove the cysts in her stomach if she can gain some weight and remain stable. She is so grateful for your prayers. She has her mind set on getting well. I have a feeling she may be a success story.

I wish I could convey all of the amazing things I am experiencing. But in summary, I continue to be so grateful for family, friends, health, new experiences, good sleep, laughter, music, hospitality, good food, the beauty of nature, people’s inspiring stories, and most of all God who loves this world so deeply. I’m incredibly grateful that God has invited me to be a part of His story… the great restoration of this beautiful but broken world.

Thanks for joining me on my journey.

Kenya Part 6

2008-01-17T14:04:00.000-08:00

Here are some of my most recent thoughts / experiences:

The Rally: I headed into town to meet a friend this last Saturday and I found myself caught up in a massive movement of people. There were thousands upon thousands of people streaming to the park for a political rally. I had heard on the news earlier in the week that they were expecting a good turn out, but this was like nothing I have seen in the US (but I don’t live in Washington DC where this kind of thing may happen). The rally was for one of the presidential candidates (“Raila”) who is opposed to the current administration and belongs to a party called, “O.D.M.” (Orange Democratic Movement, I think). Traffic came to a standstill as people were whistling, cheering and dancing in the streets. Apparently this had been happening all day and went on until evening. People here are insane about politics – it is in the news constantly and the focus of conversation all the time. In the past there has been problems with election violence, so everyone is on pins and needles right now.

Being curious, I got off the bus and started moving with the crowd. I found myself in the park with about 50,000 people (just a guess). I didn’t actually go up where the main crowd was standing listening to speakers because it looked too crowded for my liking. (Later the TV news said they were having to pass people over the top of the crowd who had collapsed due to overcrowding, etc). I had a nice conversation with a woman who was on the edge of the crowd. She was wearing an orange colored shirt with presidential propaganda on it (along with everyone else), so I asked her where she got the shirt and how much it cost. She offered to help me get one. So I gave her some shillings and she got one for me. I figured it was a nice piece of history to take home. The other reason I got it is because I live with two people who are fiercely opposed to ODM and Raila, and I thought it might be a bit humorous to wear the shirt around the house to irritate them. (There’s nothing worse than an ignorant foreigner actively supporting the “wrong” party!!) In fact I even got a special laminated card with Raila’s picture to put on the door of Eston (one of the housemates opposed to Raila). My housemates thought it was decently humorous but they are also working very hard to convince me why their candidate is much better… which brings me to the next topic: Tribalism.

Tribalism: From what I can tell as an outsider, both the two leading candidates for presidency are saying basically the same thing. They are both from the “old guard” and have been part of the political scene for too long (in my opinion). They make grand promises to the people and lack responsible plans to back them up. Ok, this sounds just like American politics, doesn’t it? However, there is an interesting wrinkle to Kenyan politics, and that is tribalism. There are 42 distinct tribal groups in Kenya (47 according to some I have talked to). Tribal identity is very important to Kenyans. As a child, one learns their tribal language first (the mother tongue) and then Swahili. In school, children also are taught English. So virtually everyone knows 3 languages (although English is often learned at a much lower level of competency depending on one’s level of education). Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that tribalism is reinforced through language distinction. There are longstanding feuds between different tribal groups and certain tribes will virtually never trust others even though they might live next door. This makes for complicated politics. It is made more difficult by the fact that the tribes are of different sizes and socio-economic standards. The current president is Kikuyu (the largest tribe and the wealthiest tribe – as far as I can tell). Thus, the other tribes have to work together if they want to dislodge the current administration, because almost all politics is along tribal lines. But it is difficult for the tribes to work together because once the new candidate is in power, he is likely to sack his inter-tribal teammates and replace them with his own “good ole boys.” From an outsider’s perspective, this tribalism issue is a major problem. People don’t think of the whole nation’s interest first. They think of their tribe’s interest. In America, we don’t have tribalism in the same form, but we do have classism. So maybe it isn’t all that different… Ok, I’ll stop before I get in trouble.

On a positive note, I have discovered that the main newspaper if Kenya (“the Nation”) is a wonderful source of truth for the Kenyan people. The articles are provocative and insightful. I see this as a great sign of hope for the future of Kenya… a good, free press can be a real source of health to a developing democracy. I keep reminding myself that America has been working on democracy for 200 plus years. Kenya has only had the luxury of 40 some years.

Retreat: This last Friday marked the half-way point of my 10 week internship at the hospital. The whole class got to take a special one-day trip to a place that we chose. The place chosen was called, “14 falls” which sounds very exotic. We got a van and crammed 13 of us in it and drove about an hour and a half outside of Nairobi to a more rural area where this “park” was. When we got there, it wasn’t quite what I expected (although I had been tipped off by Sister Janet that it wouldn’t be that glamorous). It was basically a really dirty river (all of the dirty water from Nairobi along with trash and sewage) flowing over a 30 foot cliff with 14 or so different strands. My classmates were pretty excited about it. I thought it was disgusting. You could smell a “funny” smell in the air and there was a ton of frothy foam at the bottom of the falls. All I could think about was the risk of getting Hepatitis if I accidentally fell in. There were a bunch of young men there that have a special job: entertaining the visitors. They immediately descended on us and wanted to strike a deal in order to jump off the falls into the water below. I paid a guy about 75 cents and he did a nice flip off the waterfall. I was thinking you would have to pay me about $75,000 to jump in, not because of the height or the flip, but because of the sewage. The boys did some nice maneuvers off the falls and then some of my classmates decided to utilize the boy’s services in helping them cross the river, which meant getting at least your legs in the water. I passed on this one… as did sister Janet and father John (hmmm…I told you they were wise). The classmates had picked the place. Sister Janet and father John were hoping to go to a different place which is much nicer called, “paradise lost” which I thought was an appropriate name for the place we were at. Maybe I’ll visit paradise lost another time. Anyway, all of the above being said, we had a wonderful time together there and the only challenge to the trip was a flat tire on the way home which was quickly dealt with.

Sister Act: I have wonderful classmates who are a lot of fun. Many of them are quite unique characters. I have especially enjoyed getting to know Sister Phoebe who is about 25 yrs old, a Kenyan, and a catholic nun in training. From the first day I met her, I kept thinking she was something straight out of the movie “Sister Act.” She is not what I had in my mind as the stereotype of a nun. She laughs all the time and makes jokes, dances when she hears music and generally prances around like a kid. Oh, and she whacks people really hard on the back when they make a great joke (I mean really hard… she hauled off and really whacked me when I said something a couple of weeks ago that made her laugh so hard she cried). She does all of this while wearing a “habit” (nun clothing). The way she speaks English cracks me up, so I keep trying to get video footage of her talking but I can’t really get her to cooperate. On the retreat, it was like she really got free. Maybe it was because she knew that “mother superior” was a long ways away. Anyway, it was quite entertaining. I wish you could meet her and my other classmates… they are great. (Sister Phoebe is truly a pastoral care hero… she works in the burns unit that I mentioned last week, which very difficult and she has excellent pastoral care skills and a wonderful sharing heart. I thought I should say this since I was only painting one side of her).

Reflection: This week I turned 29 years old. This caused me to stop and reflect about my life. (I had some extra time to reflect since I got a minor case of food poisoning on my birthday that made me “toss” my dinner and go to bed really early… which led to me finding myself wide awake at 3:00am the next morning. But don’t worry… I’m fine.) But as I was saying, I have also really been challenged to reflect because of the introspective / self-awareness focus of CPE. It has caused me many long hours of thinking and praying about my identity, my insecurities, my fears, etc. I don’t know what will all come out of this reflecting, but I’m grateful for an experience that is so self-revealing. I have been specifically wrestling with the issue of fear and how it controls aspects of my life in ways I have not been able to see clearly up until now. I’m hoping to gain more understanding of this issue in my life.

In some respects, I wish that everyone could go through this experience (Clinical Pastoral Education) as I am already seeing the value myself. It forces one to deal with his / her internal garbage which can really be a hindrance to being able to serve and love others. As a great complementary experience to my CPE training, I have been really enjoying the books of an author named Henri Nouwen while I have been here. He is a Christian “mystic” / writer who is incredibly transparent in his wrestling with himself and with God. He was a much-in-demand professor where he taught for a time at Notre Dame, Yale, and Harvard divinity schools. And then he left education to spend the rest of his life (he died not too long ago) serving the mentally handicapped in special communities designed for them. (A bit ironic that one of the most intelligent people on the planet spent many years serving those who could not fully function mentally). I highly recommend anything by him. It is not often when you find someone who truly speaks your “soul language.” Nouwen does that for me.

Beatrice Update: I visited Beatrice today. She looks better. She is eating a bit and trying to gain back her strength enough to walk. I was able to sneak my Ipod back into the hospital for a whole afternoon last week. She was really excited about it. She told me her goal is to get well and go home before I leave the hospital. Unfortunately, medically this is unlikely due to the fact that the doctors are unsure of what to do about the cysts in her stomach which keep on growing. But keep on praying as I do see her improving.

And now the trivial…

The Great Disappointment: I have really been craving Mexican food recently. In one of my trips to town, I noticed that there was a sign that said “Taco Bell” and looked just like the American real deal from the looks of the sign. When I had first seen it I didn’t have time to actually check it out… but I stored it away in my mind for the next time I was going to be in that part of town. So, this weekend when I was in downtown again, I headed straight for Taco Bell. I had even skipped a meal to really store up for a great Mexican feast. So I showed up at the restaurant and went inside only to notice that it was more of a bar than a restaurant. I asked for a menu. When I looked at the menu, there wasn’t a single Mexican dish on it. I was so disgusted that I decided to skip eating altogether. (I am hoping for your pity…). I thought about contacting the real Taco Bell to get them to sue… but maybe my energy could be spent better somewhere else. I can’t even get any beans other than “baked beans” in the market. And tortilla chips are nowhere to be found in this place. So, go ahead and gorge yourself on some Mexican food this week while I suffer. :)

Kenya Part 5

2008-01-17T14:03:00.001-08:00

Here are some recent thoughts and experiences that I have had.

Kibera: On Sunday afternoon I went on a very eye-opening adventure to a place called “Kibera.” I was invited by the night watchmen (Fred) for the apartment where I live to come and see his home in Kibera. I knew enough about Kibera to be quite interested in going. Kibera is a 20 minute walk from where I live. So we met at 2:00 and walked briskly into the middle of another world. Kibera is the largest slum south of the Sahara desert (bigger than the famous Soweto of South Africa). Officially, one million people live there but unofficially, there are probably closer to 1.5 million people. About one quarter of the population is HIV positive. The slum makes up more than ¼ of the total population of Nairobi. It would not be a safe place for me to go by myself – I realized this quite soon after I was in the midst of a confusing set of streets (actually dirt trails) with literally hundreds of thousands of identical looking rusty tin roofed, mud-walled shanty structures, and thousands of people streaming every which direction. At one point Fred asked me if he could hold my hand. There were so many people and it was so loud and he was worried that I would get separated from him. I gladly obliged. (You can picture me holding hands with Fred pushing our way along a crowded lane.) I was the only Caucasian person that I saw for the whole time I was there (and Fred’s neighbors told me they have never seen a white man in their little area). Let’s just say that it is not a tourist hotspot. Everywhere I went people were turning and looking saying, “Muzungu, Muzungu” (white man, white man). The children, who don’t learn English until grade school, only know one phrase which they repeat dozens of times when they see a Muzungu. “How are you? How are you?” They don’t know what to do if you respond… but they show great excitement if you acknowledge them.

As I went along totally overwhelmed by this foreign experience, I began to notice the trenches in the paths we were walking on that had raw sewage, trash piles, gray water – all flowing somewhere (actually these trenches were unmistakable due to the smell emanating from them). At one point I crossed a small river (15 feet wide and a few feet deep) of sewage mixed with trash and gray water (I figured out where the trenches went). Anyway, Fred somehow or another navigated his way through the huge maze and end us up at his “house.” (I could never in a million years tell you how to get back there again.) We got there by ducking into an alley way that was only 3 feet tall and a couple feet wide. When I entered his home, I was grateful to find a chair to sit down on and rest. We had moved at a frantic pace – I think because he was concerned about my safety and causing a stir if we went too slow. Fred’s home was one room that was perhaps 8 foot by 8 foot. He had decorated the dirt walls with advertisements out of magazines. He shares the room with another man. Fred sleeps in the day due to his job and the other man sleeps there during the night – so they share one bed between them. Efficiency is priority number one. Fred pays 800 shillings ($12) a month for this dirt floored, dirt walled, leaky tin roofed room. I saw what happens if you don’t pay your rent… there was a pile of stuff lying outside one shanty nearby because the landlord had thrown out the man for not paying his rent. (Can you imagine throwing someone out of a space smaller than some dog-houses in America because he can’t cough up $12?)

Fred offered me a cup of tea and some peanuts and I had the chance to get to know him a bit. He is six months older than me (29 and a half). He is married and has 5 children that live about 8 hours away back in his home district. He moved to Nairobi to try to get a better paying job in order to support his family. He had been trying to farm back in his home area but it wasn’t profitable. Unfortunately even now he only makes about $85 a month doing his nighttime security job and can only send back about $30 at best each month, which allows his family to survive. He has big hopes of getting business together that can make decent money for his family. He wanted my input / advice / help about this. (I’ll share more below about this). Fred made me a fried egg, which I ate with Ugali (corn meal – like grits) in the traditional manner (with your hands – no utensils). Then we went to see the other night watchman’s house (Edward – who protects the apartments next to mine). Edward has a wife and 2 children that live in an identical looking place to Fred. Edward has lived in Kibera for 8 years. He has opened a business that he runs during the day after he gets his daily 2 hours of sleep (keep in mind that he works the night shift, has 2 children and a wife to care for, etc.)

You couldn’t find me two more kind and wonderful people than Fred and Edward. They are true gentlemen. You will notice Fred in the picture attached dressed like a business professional (this was taken in the middle of the slum in his house). I asked them if I could take some pictures of Kibera. They told me they would help me. So I went between the two of them (they insisted that I walk between them) and got some shots of daily life in Kibera. It was apparent that this is typically not ok… but since I was with locals I could barely get away with it. We had to discuss with one woman for a couple of minutes before she would let me take her picture with her fish stand with about 500 flies on the fish. Anyway, Fred and Edward guided me back out of Kibera back to my “luxurious” apartment only 20 minutes walk away. The whole adventure was like entering a different world. I was so overwhelmed by what I experienced that I got a headache thinking about it and went to bed early.

Capital: Fred and Edward’s situation is very similar to others that I have met. Many people are extremely hardworking, industrious, etc. They just lack something important to get them started off to a new life: capital. Edward is part of something that is fairly common: a welfare group. This is not at all like American “welfare.” A welfare group is something that a group of friends will do to help each other. They form a group that meets every 2 weeks and they collect seed money from each person – say 1500 shillings ($20) which they put in a community pot. The groups are usually 15-25 people in size which puts a decent size amount of money (perhaps $400) in the community pot. Then they rotate part of the money to the various members for purposes of business or emergency. If you take 10,000 shillings to try to buy some goods that you know you can sell in a different place for a profit, it can really help you get something started. When you return the money in a few weeks or a month, you return it with 30% interest. In this way you increase your overall “community pot.” This is not just a game for these people… it is what helps them merely survive. Once in a while a person will borrow a significant amount from the community pot and then their business plan fails (this happened in the case of Edward’s group – with a tailoring business that went belly up). This means that everybody loses. It is risky… but it is the only chance people have of getting ahead. There is no such thing as a small business loan from a real bank given to someone who lives in a shantytown and owns nothing more than a couple of pairs of clothing, food for the week, and a few household items. Everybody knows that the only way to make money is to use someone else’s money to get started. I was impressed by the creativity and organization of these people. They showed me the official log of their contributions / withdrawals and the guidelines to their welfare group that they had drawn up.

Fred belongs to a group such as Edward’s, but it takes a long time when you have 25 members to be able to get the money around to you to be able to use. And even then, you have to be sure that you can get a better than 30% return on your money or you are going in the negative when you return the money in a month. Needless to say, this is a VERY difficult environment to launch a business. Edward invited me to come and be a guest at the next meeting they have. I’m hoping to take him up on his offer. It is like entrepreneurial small business 101… except this is for survival.

Part of Fred’s hope in inviting me to his home was that I could make some suggestion / offer some help to him financially. Knowing that he has five children and a wife to feed, this is not theoretical for him. He had written up an autobiography / resume for me to look over. He wanted to know if there was any way I could find him a sponsor to give him a head start… to get him some capital. We sat down together and began to talk about a business plan that would be able to get him what he needed to get him going the right direction. We are still working on the details, but basically he knows that if he had 50,000 shillings ($750) he could buy nuts and grains wholesale from Uganda (his home area is 30 minutes walk from the border) and sell them in Nairobi for a profit of 10,000 shilling. He could do this several times a month and working with his brother begin to net about 15,000+ shillings a month. This would allow him to take good care of his family – providing food / medical / educational money for them, start a savings account, and continue to develop the infrastructure of his business. I could see his enthusiasm and his hope nearly bursting out of him. I promised him that I would help him put together a proposal that I would send to my community (you) to see if anyone might be interested in helping him. I will have it ready to send to you in the next week sometime. I am asking you to prayerfully consider the possibility of sponsoring him – especially after you see the proposal. I will send more info in a few days.

HIV Children’s Home: On Sunday morning I went with Sister Janet (my supervisor) to the place where she worships each week. It was a home / community just outside of Nairobi for HIV orphans. There are 101 orphan children between the ages of a few months old to some in their early 20’s who have a wonderful community to live in. The joy exploding out of that place was beautiful and inspirational. The children are well taken care of in every way through sponsorship from people in the US. The community has been there for 16 years now. With 12 million AIDS orphans in Africa (and the number growing daily) there is enormous need for these kinds of ministries.

Music Therapy: I had an idea the other day as I was praying about Beatrice (the young woman in the hospital that I have told you about). I know she loves music (wants to be a gospel singer)… I also know that she has been laying in a hospital ward for 4 months now withering away with stomach cysts. The idea I had was to sneak my Ipod into the hospital and let her listen to a song or two. This would be a simple thing in an American hospital with private rooms (in fact I would just leave my Ipod all day if it was the US). But in Kenyatta National Hospital, there are usually at least 8 people in the same room. It is difficult to do anything special for one patient without all of them noticing and clamoring for the same special treatment. I decided it was worth a try. I arranged to have some of my fellow chaplains form a human shield around the bed while we gave her the chance to hear a song: “Shout to the Lord.” It was the first time she had heard music in 4 months. All she listens to each day and night is moaning, coughing, vomiting, and the voices of doctors and nurses. She smiled, closed her eyes, and mouthed the words to the song while it played in her ears. It was very difficult for me to take the Ipod with me when I went. I am trying to figure out a way to sneak it in for a whole afternoon to her again soon. Maybe I’ll get someone less noticeable than me to do so. Anyway, Beatrice is improving a bit – she even ate a few bites last week. Keep on praying.

Burns Unit: There was a huge explosion at a factory where they melt down scrap metal. Somehow an artillery shell got mixed in with scrap metal and was put in the furnace. It exploded and killed several people and injured about 10 others severely. Several of those who were burned came to Kenyatta to the burns unit for treatment. I don’t usually work in the burns unit, but I had the chance to meet Maurice on Friday when I went in to work with another CPE student. Maurice had burns on 80% of his body. Surprisingly, he talked very easily with me for 15 minutes (considering his condition I found this amazing). He told me that he had been in another similar accident (not nearly as bad) and lived. This time he told me he was finished with such work. He wanted to be a pastor of a church. He had felt the calling for years and had been putting it off. The accident had sealed his decision to go back to school. He was very kind and very humble. He didn’t complain or act bitter about the horrific accident he had been in. It was difficult for me to look at him because his face had literally melted off in the explosion / fire. I got sick to my stomach and had to leave the burns unit after talking with him. I managed to mask my sickness until I left the ward. I thought about him several times over the weekend. I went in today to visit him again… but he died last night at 6:20pm. I had prayed with him on Friday and he had asked me to come back on Monday. It was my first patient to die.

Hospital employees have told me that over 100 patients die every day at Kenyatta. I have a hard time comprehending this. That is 5% of the total patient population every day. One person told me that they feel there is an equal and greater force working against this since they have about the same number of new babies each day.

In spite of all of these sobering details and heavy experiences, I am finding joy in my relationships with my classmates and with certain patients. I’m glad that many of my patients are getting well and that they go home to their families. These experiences have taken my prayer life to a new level. I’m grateful for the chance to be an ambassador of love for Jesus and to have the precious encounters I get to have. I’m also incredibly grateful for health and safety and financial opportunity that have been afforded to me in my life.

Kenya Part 4

2008-01-17T14:02:00.000-08:00

Here are some recent thoughts / experiences:

Conveniences: I have been missing certain conveniences from home recently. As strange as it sounds, I really miss toast. So when I saw a toaster at the store the other day, I found it difficult to resist. I conferred with my housemates and found out they liked toast too (2 out of 3 of them at least). So I broke down and bought one. I’m going to donate it to the center when I leave (cause I’m not bringing it home!). Eston got back this morning from visiting his family again and wanted to know why I was “burning my bread.” The idea of toast was apparently not something he was familiar with.

Snake Park: I have been talking about wanting to see the “snake park” in Nairobi since I first heard of it when I got here. On Sunday afternoon, Father John stopped by without advance notice and suggested that we go to the snake park. I was very excited. The park was not at all glamorous and needed a serious facelift, but it did contain lots of deadly snakes. We had a guide who walked around with us and told us a few things about each snake and then told us how long we had to live if we got bitten by one. Most of them were about 30-60 minutes until one would be dead. Then he came to the “Black Mamba” which he told us, if we got bitten, we would have a grand total of 15 seconds to think about meaning of our existence. I was sufficiently grateful that the snake was behind a thick layer of glass. According to what I have been told, there are actually very few snakes around the human populations in Kenya because if one shows its face, the whole community will come out and hack it to pieces before it can get away. I read somewhere that one of the results of this was an increase in the rodent population. (I guess you have to decide which is better to live with – I think I’m with the Kenyans on this one).

Hypocrisy: On the way back from the snake park we stopped at a big park where there was a large gathering of people in some sort of a religious rally. I was told that it was some Pentecostal speaker working the crowd up with his rhetoric. This is a weekly activity in the park. Different speakers come and people come out by the hundreds (there were several thousand people there). While I was watching the gathering, I was thinking about how earlier in the day I had read an article in the newspaper about the state of Christianity in Kenya. I was very saddened by what I read and it connected with what I was being told about the gathering in the park. The article talked about how the best way to get rich in Kenya is to start your own church. There are churches everywhere you look. Most of these churches are independent “pentecostal” churches and have no accountability and the message being preached is some form of “health and wealth” theology similar to what you find on TBN and other American televangelist channels. The pastors of these Kenyan churches have the nicest cars and the biggest houses while their poor congregants are duped into thinking that “one day God will bless me the way he is blessing my pastor if I just have enough faith and give enough to support his ministry.” It really makes me quite upset when I stop and think about it. My roommate from Malawi tells me they have the same problem there (and all around the African continent).

I was embarrassed on behalf of God and all true followers of Jesus. It is hard to imagine a worse distortion of the message of Jesus! It reaffirmed in my mind how important good theology is and how important financial transparency and accountability is. I have a feeling there is going to be a terrible backlash to Christianity in the next few years as people continue to come to their senses. (Although this being said, the persistence of this same theology in America continues to be a mystery to me). It is difficult for me to accept the fact that this distorted picture of Jesus and His message is what is spreading around so much of the world. I feel like it is part of my life mission to do something about it. :)

Chuck Norris: I’m not sure how or why, but everybody that I know in Kenya thinks that Chuck Norris is greatest ever. My friends were quite excited to find out that I knew who Chuck Norris was. I told them he was my uncle, which really got them interested… but then I felt guilty and confessed the truth. Seriously, who makes the decisions about which action heroes to export? I don’t think Chuck Norris would be in my top 10. But, hey I guess he’s the man!

Clinical Pastoral Education Group Processing: We have group processing time twice each week. This is the time we set aside to talk about whatever we think we want to bring to the table (regarding our experience in the hospital, our interaction with each other, problems, questions, etc.) This is a very interesting experience and always proves to be full of surprises. We had some serious conflict this last week and I found the experience to be very enlightening about how various people handle the “heat” when it is turned up. Some people completely checked out, some moped and tried to use the silent treatment, some tried to make everything “smoothed” over… I tend to be a “put it all on the table” type of guy. Let’s just say it was interesting to see what happened (in hindsight). We have another group time tomorrow. It is going to be enlightening to see what happens this time. I find it very healthy to be in a group in which people can truly express their thoughts / feelings.

Corruption: I never realized how difficult it is to live in a society that is straining under the impact of corruption. Corruption is a society-wide issue. People do a lot of complaining these days in Kenya about high level officials who are doing dishonest things with money. There is a building called the “Integrity Centre” that I drive by regularly. It is supposed to be providing some sort of accountability to the government. Unfortunately, it is corrupt as well. I found this a bit ironic. The good news is that everyone seems to agree that things have improved over the last couple of years. In my opinion, there is a long ways to go. Father John had some good insights about the issue. He said, “Its easy to get all worked up about corruption in the leaders… it is a lot more difficult to make sure that you aren’t part of the problem.” For instance, a police officer will pull someone over and cite them for something like too much exhaust coming out of the car (which is a major problem that needs attention, if you ask me – my lungs are straining under the impact of this issue). Basically everyone knows that you can buy off the officer for a couple of dollars (maybe 150 shillings) and then be on your way. It might save one as much as 2000 shillings ($30), but it reinforces the problem of corruption. This happens all day, every day in a thousand different ways. It really is a huge problem. The police are not trusted, etc.

The only solution I can see is for the entire society to decide that no corruption at any level is acceptable. This means that each person must decide this. It reinforced in my mind how essential basic honesty and integrity is for a society / community to work well. Without it, no one really trusts anyone else… it makes for real problems.

Church: I went to an Anglican Church with my roommate (Father Emmanuel) on Sunday. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. It was the last Sunday that the current (much loved) pastor was going to be at the church. They had set up a special outdoor tent and seats for well over a thousand people. The archbishop of Kenya (the guy overseeing the whole Kenyan Anglican Church) was there, many other clergy and special people were there. There were numerous choirs to sing songs and a lot of words of thanks spoken. The service was supposed to start at 9:30am… it didn’t start on time. I was still sitting in my same seat at 1:45pm when we finally finished. This was the longest single church service I have experienced in my life. It was made somewhat palatable because they served a free lunch afterward. The pastor’s sermon was quite good and some of the music was good as well (only some of it). It was good to see a healthy, functioning church considering what I mentioned earlier.

The Hospital: I continue to be challenged by the hospital. I have managed to make a couple of allies in the medical staff. But it is difficult to be noticed when there are 5000 people on the medical staff not including 1000 medical students who are in the hospital. I have been spending some time on the child cancer ward. It is sometimes quite difficult to see these children with tumors making their faces protrude in very unnatural ways.

Beatrice (the young woman I mentioned last week) improved throughout the week. She had a collapsed lung. She was very encouraged to know that people across the other side of the world were praying for her. She is very grateful. Sadly, today when I stopped by she had the breathing apparatus on again today. I think her lung collapsed again. I stopped by and prayed for her… she wasn’t able to talk today.

I continue to be so grateful to God for this experience. I meet remarkable people each day and I am being shaped by my interactions with them. I am being challenged to try live each day in a way that communicates the love of God to each person I meet. This is a humbling and difficult task. Thanks for your prayers!

Kenya Part 3

2008-01-17T14:01:00.000-08:00

I have had a number of adventures and experiences in the last week that I would love to share… but I don’t have time to write them all down. I will include some of the most memorable experiences and / or thoughts below.

The hospital: my experience of giving pastoral care in the hospital has been a very challenging one. The language / cultural barrier is more difficult than I anticipated. I can only decently communicate with about 1 out of 3 patients that I attempt to visit. It is forcing me to learn how to offer care / ministry simply through my presence. Today I spent quite a bit of time with a young boy who had a ball bearing removed from his ear. He was fully recovered but waiting for his parents to come and pay his bill (you can’t leave the hospital till the bill is paid. This makes it a hospital / prison for some…). He was cruising around the hallways of the 5th level of the enormous hospital (I estimate that there are over 2000 patients in the hospital). Anyway, he was intrigued by the Muzungu (white man) who was hanging around. Even though we could barely communicate, we bonded over games of tick-tack-toe and drawings on a piece of scratch paper. We had a good time together.

Yesterday there was a little girl who had a bean removed from her ear. It had started to grow, so they had to surgically remove it. She looked very happy today and her father was relieved.

There is a young woman that I have been visiting for over a week now that has caused me great sadness. Her name is Beatrice. She is 22 years old. She is very kind and has a beautiful smile with piercing eyes… but she only weighs about 55 pounds if even that. She should weigh at least twice that much if she was healthy. In one our conversations she told me that her life dream has been to be a Christian gospel singer. In fact she told me that she is “sponsored” to record if she gets well. She has been in the hospital since April and had 6 operations to remove the cysts that are growing in her stomach or abdominal region. Her body is unable to absorb nutrients from food. When I talk with her I find myself feeling very emotional. She has such amazing faith and yet I sense that she is dying right in front of me. I have been seeing her just about every day, but today when I went in she had some sort of breathing apparatus on her and she looked worse than I have ever seen her. She couldn’t communicate. I was hit pretty hard by seeing her like that. I found myself praying… more like pleading with God to preserve her life. Its hard to understand how in an age of such medical progress you can watch someone who should be out enjoying herself and blessing others with her music dying right in front of me. But this is something I am going to have to get used to. Every day I experience a whole range of emotions from anger to joy to sadness to a sense of being overwhelmed.

The clinical pastoral educational (CPE) experience is one of group processing, learning about self-awareness, learning how to be a non-anxious presence around people, learning how to listen well, learning how to deal with awkward situations, etc. I think all of this is quite valuable. But it is not easy. I think it is even more complicated for me because I have also added a cultural element by being here in Kenya that I wouldn’t have in the states.

The Mud:
I think I told you in an earlier email that I was invited by one of my housemates to go home with him to his house up North for the weekend. I left on Friday with Eston and we drove for about 4 hours to his hometown of Nyharuru. The roads in Kenya are not so hot. It was quite a trip – made even more interesting by Eston’s driving style which included using his horn more often than a NY taxi cab trying to get bicyclists and people walking on the road out of his way. We passed thousands of people walking beside the road. I haven’t gotten used to seeing so many people walking all the time. Oh, and there donkeys pulling carts full of lettuce and other produce and other random animals too. It was quite an interesting experience to see the various types of terrain as we drove along. I had my preconceptions of Kenya completely destroyed over the course of our trip. I thought of Kenya as being dry and hot before I came here. It is neither… at least not where I have been. In fact it is lush and green and quite wet (we aren’t even supposed to be in rainy season). We passed huge cypress groves and thousands of acres of maize (corn) sprawling over the hillsides. At one point we stopped and I got to look out over the famous Rift Valley filled with lush fields, little settlements and villages, and lots of trees. We went through other places that had the famous flat looking trees (the ones that look like someone sat on them).

Anyway, we arrived in Nyharuru after dark and Eston warned me that it was muddy because of all the rain by his house. This was the understatement of the year. His house is off a main road about 1 km. We started out and immediately found ourselves in water a couple inches deep to 8 inches in other places with mud the consistency of pudding. There was mud everywhere and his little mid 1980’s Toyota corolla had no chance of making it. We would spin and bounce all over the place as he tried to floor the engine to get some momentum / traction in the mud. He managed to get unstuck the first time after a couple of minutes of backwards and forwards action. Then he tore off into the weeds beside what was supposed to be the road. But this was in vain because any direction you look there is water and mud for miles. Sure enough, we got stuck… really stuck. I had the privilege of getting out and walking in 6 inches of mud and pushing the car while Eston floored it again – sending mud from the tires all over me. Then because he didn’t want to lose the momentum he kept going and I got to walk a ways in the mud. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I have a really hard time getting dirty – especially when I have limited clothing and no way to really get clean.

(This whole adventure was duplicated again on the way to town the next day trying to get out. I got to get out again and push – ruining the other pair of shoes that I had brought which were my dress shoes for church. What was sort of funny to me was that Eston had decided to wash his car before we went to town that morning. So he lovingly cleaned the car and then we drove 20 feet and it was completely covered with mud immediately. Hmmm… Anyway, he decided to leave his car in town the rest of the weekend which meant that we got to walk through the mud to town rather than attempt to get the car through it.)

Back to my story…When we finally got to his house on Friday night, his three little girls (8, 5, 2 years old) were at the door singing a song for him to welcome him home. The girls were adorable (see the picture of the family). I was a bit flustered by the mud but I thought it was cute how they sang for him.

Eston told me that his neighbors think he is rich because he built himself a “stone house” (cinder block). It is three rooms with a non-sitdown toilet and a closet sized kitchen. Let me explain to you some differences between Kenyan homes and American homes.
1) the toilet – as I mentioned above. Many have none at all.
2) no fridge, no oven, no clean running water, no freezer, no microwave, no washer or dryer, no dishwasher
3) In Eston’s case (and many other Kenyan home’s), no electricity. He has a solar panel that gives him a trickle charge to a battery that operates one light and a boom box stereo.
4) No shower… I had the opportunity to have some water heated over a fire and put in a big bowl that I could use to splash on myself.
5) A gas burner and / or a wood stove for cooking
6) “House help” – meaning a young woman or two that live with the family (if one is wealthy enough) to take care of cooking, some cleaning, some childcare, etc. In Eston’s case he has house help in the form of a girl named “Loise.” When I think of having a live-in maid I think of something that only the very wealthy have (in America). That is not the case in Kenya. It is a middle class staple.

Basically I got to experience life in a typical Kenyan home as part of a typical Kikuyu (tribe) family for the whole weekend. It was quite an adjustment. It was wonderful and completely miserable at the same time. Walking 30 minutes in the mud to get anywhere was not pleasant. I felt completely out of control the whole weekend. I was at the mercy of my hosts for food, water, light (lantern), transportation, a bed (they put two couches together for me), communication, etc. I’m not used to being this dependent.

I had a fascinating discussion with Eston and his wife about some of the differences between American living and Kenyan living (some of the things mentioned above). Eston’s wife could not see any use in having a fridge or a freezer. A microwave didn’t make sense either. I explained the wonders of being able to go to the store once every couple of weeks and being able to prepare a meal in 3 minutes in the microwave, but this didn’t really sound that great to her. She did think the laundry machines would be useful – especially since rain sometimes makes it very difficult to dry clothes on the line (like when it rains everyday for 3 months). Part of what I realized is that the Kenyan way around much of our technology is to have “house help” who does what our machines do for us. I could see why Eston’s wife thought like she did… after all it works, right? However, I have to admit that I didn’t like the way that the house help sort of reminded me of Cinderella in the basement doing the slave labor. I felt bad for poor Loise who ran around fetching anything they needed. (A classic example was when there was a cup and container of tea on the table in front of a family member and someone would yell for Loise to come and pour the tea.) But, I know that they think they are doing her a favor by hiring her and giving her a place to live (and I’m sure they are). Keep in mind that Eston and his wife are by no means wealthy. But they do well enough to put food on the table and have a home that is free from the elements (ok, somewhat free of the elements).

Saint Martin:
Eston works for an amazing social service organization called “Saint Martin.” Part of my reason for going up to his home for the weekend was to get the chance to see what Saint Martin does. It is phenomenal. They have an HIV / AIDS program, a domestic violence / Rape program, a street children rehabilitation program, a micro-credit program, a handicapped program, and an absolutely amazing AIDS orphan home with 49 children who are all HIV positive and orphaned. The whole organization is run in a way that involves the local community in everything they do. They work with the local churches and have hundreds of volunteers. They are partially funded by groups from the Netherlands and Italy. They have pioneered such an effective model that they are being emulated in many other non-profit organizations and NGO’s. They have 18 paid staff, while everything else is volunteer driven which gives a lot of ownership to the local residents. They use an outside auditor who checks the books regularly for financial accountability (which is very important considering the horrendous problem of corruption that has plagued Kenya and its NGO’s / non-profs).

It was all I could do to hold back the tears when I saw what they have done for these 49 HIV positive orphans. They have a tremendous facility that was built with outside donations but is completely self-sufficient as it operates due to local donations and volunteers. The children are loved, educated, clothed, fed, and medicated as needed (some of the children are on ARV’s, some aren’t). The children were full of joy and you would never know the amount of suffering and tragedy that they have endured by meeting them and seeing them play as children should. Their goal is to have 84 children in the home but they are moving toward that in stages in order to assure quality. The children live in “mini-homes” in the facility with a mother and father. Everything is done in a way that would honor God – and I’m sure the whole deal is bringing a smile to His face. The whole thing is ridiculously inspiring to me. It is an example of the Kingdom of God…what Jesus taught so passionately about.

There are a thousand more things to say about it, but I’ll stop. They have a website if you are interested: www.saintmartin-kenya.org

Anyway, I am tired and I need to get some sleep, so I’ll stop for now. I hope and pray that you are doing well. May God richly bless you! Keep on praying for me – I need it! I continue to be “ambushed” by God on an almost daily basis as I go about this adventure. I think that is the way it should be. :)

Blessings,
Ryan

Kenya Part 2

2008-01-17T13:59:00.000-08:00

So much has happened in the last couple of days. I think the best way to summarize what I want to share is to do it by topic. So here is a somewhat random selection of topics (both “weighty” and unimportant).

Tea: I have never had so much tea in my life. Kenyans (and all other Africans I have met so far) love having tea (sometimes they call it “chai”). In the words of my housemate Rose, “Anytime is tea time.” We have an official break for tea at 10:45am but we have already had tea with breakfast. We then have tea again at lunch and again in the afternoon when we get back from whatever we have been doing. We have it with dinner and then again before we go to bed. It would be very easy to have tea 5 times in one day. I actually really enjoy tea. It is taken with “biscuits” (which are called cookies in the US). The tea is a mixture of milk / water and a lot of sugar. After a walk in the sun when you are sweating a bit, my classmates will tell me they are longing for some hot tea. I feel more like a chilled fruit drink or something… but I’m embracing Kenyan culture so I go for tea.

Transportation / Insanity: Getting around town is insanity. Buses flying every which direction, Matatus (minibus taxis) weaving in and out of other cars. (Very few bicycles or mopeds surprisingly). The buses (called “City Hoppa’s” and mataus run on a numbered system that I haven’t figured out yet. You have to be pretty aggressive about telling them where you want to get out or you are stuck on the vehicle. On weekdays, it is faster to walk the 3 km into downtown than it is to ride the public transportation (not an exaggeration). It is way worse than LA. The fumes are pretty bad too. They need some emissions control to go with their plastic bag law. But, they have another interesting law: no smoking anywhere in public. Not in the street, not on the buses, not in the restaurants… nowhere. You can be arrested for such. Thus, there are no cigarette butts on the ground and no cigarette smoke in the air. Amazing!

Back to the transportation… If I come home in a body bag it will likely be because of getting hit by a vehicle. I keep looking the wrong direction because the direction is like the UK. Sometimes you can only get halfway across a road and then you stand on the single yellow line while traffic whizzes by you at 40 miles an hour on both sides of you. Pure insanity. Not for the faint of heart. But it is a good challenge!

Mosquitoes: I didn’t notice any mosquitoes for the first couple of nights. I now think I must have just been sleeping through them with my Rx sleeping pills (to get over jet lag). As soon as I stopped the sleeping pills I found myself in an all night fight with a mosquito. I went a little crazy the first night because I started panicking thinking for sure that I was going to get Malaria. I sprayed “OFF” all over my bed and it was like perfume attracting the pesky beast back to my ear. I didn’t want to bother my room mate, so I just endured the night. But the next morning I found him buried deep under his bedding. He admitted he had been bothered by it as well. I was told by sister Janet that they never have Malaria cases in Nairobi because it is too high of elevation for it. She also told me that the ones that hum in your ear are not the ones who carry Malaria… just encephalytus (infection of the brain). That was comforting… ok, not really. I just think it is a sick trick that nature plays to have Malaria carrying mosquitoes be the ones you can’t hear.

I now have a plug-in mosquito repellant that is more effective and I rigged up my mosquito net (which I’m not used to sleeping under yet). I should introduce screens to their thriving market here. It might be a winner.

Wrestling: The TV was on the other night and my housemates were watching American Wrestling (WWE). I started laughing. Of all the American programs to have going around the world… wrestling? They were wincing whenever someone got slammed on the mat. I told them that it was like a big drama – not real… they acted surprised. Maybe they were pulling my leg.

The Market: One of the first things I noticed when I got here was the way that everyone is dressed in professional attire. From the professor to the guy selling fruit and old magazines beside the road (a thriving industry I’m guessing from how many people are trying to sell them), everyone wears dress slacks and a button up shirt and often a tie and coat. People think that temperatures are very cold in Nairobi (like today when I was comfortable in a t-shirt my classmates were wearing fleeces). I did not pack very well in order to fit in. I thought it would be warm and that people would be more casual (like other more equatorial countries I have been to). So I realized early on that I needed to go to the market.

My housemate, Eston, offered to take me to the market. I had no idea what I was walking into. It was the biggest market I have ever seen in my life (by an exponential factor). It went as far as I could see and covered an enormous amount of ground. As we got to the market I realized that this was exactly where I wanted to be… but it was super overwhelming. There were matatus (mini-bus taxis) flying every which direction, men hauling little trailers around, people walking all different directions, people hollering at each other, etc. I have never seen so many clothes in one place in my life. It is a second hand clothes market. Literally millions of pieces of clothing – second hand shoes, socks, shirts, slacks, underwear, etc – I’m sure the vast majority comes straight from the US. I bought myself 2 pair of dress slacks (name brand – I forget which), leather (or was it pleather?) dress shoes, 3 buttonup shirts, 2 pairs of socks – all used… but looking very good, for about $45. If I hadn’t had my friend bargaining for me, it would have been around $100 (which is still a steal for what I got).

I was the only Caucasion (or any other race besides African) in the market I think. I went for 2+ hours without seeing any other “misuungu’s” as I am called (sort of like a “gringo”). Probably most tourist types would feel a bit intimidated by this place. I was constantly being touched – but never feeling unsafe (no pick-pockets). I did feel weird taking out my camera to take pictures, so I only took a few on the edge of the market. When people saw my camera they were obviously uncomfortable, so I tried to respect the non-verbal feedback that I was getting (plus my friend explained that it wasn’t really a respectful way to act for Kenyans… I could only get away with it because I was a foreigner). While in a different part of the market, I got to try sugar cane (raw). I watched a guy hack up some cane and then we took a piece and chewed on it… it was really good. Tastes like sugar (brilliant, I know!). Although there are many fruits available here, I am disappointed that we are not in mango season. I can’t find one anywhere right now. Everyone says, “it is not the right season.”

The whole experience was almost euphoric – all of the sights, sounds, smells (which weren’t so hot… maybe I’ll talk about smells next time. This is the one thing I have not been able to get past…body odor everywhere!). Anyway, I can’t wait to go back to the market again. Anybody need some 2nd hand clothes? :) You will see a picture attached of the edge of the market.

I also experienced great fruit / vegetable market the other day for which you will see a picture is attached (my roommate, “Father Emmanuel” the Anglican priest is in the picture on the right side).

The Hospital: I’m going to be working in Kenyatta National Hospital. It is the largest hospital in Kenya and operated by the government. It is huge – ten floors with many beds on each floor and a lot of outlying treatment area surrounding the main hospital structure. There are only a couple of small rooms on the floors… otherwise everything is open wards with 8 or more beds in each one. I’m told that at times there are as many as 3 people in a single bed and sometimes people under the bed as well. When I was in there on Friday there were only one per bed. The hospital looked like what I have seen on TV from what hospitals in the 1960’s look like. I was told that the hospital was very clean when we were there. It didn’t seem too clean to me… but that tells me it is usually pretty foul. It was extremely sobering when Sister Janet shared with us the fact that 80% of patients being treated in the hospital are HIV positive and 60% of the staff are HIV positive. I almost fell out of my chair when she told us that. I had two reactions: embarrassingly, one was fear (what if I trip and fall on a needle? Etc, etc.) The other reaction was sadness at how bad the AIDS crisis really is and how real it is here to the people of Kenya. The reason the numbers are so high is that Kenyatta is where people from all over Kenya come (from the rural areas, etc) if they have a serious medical condition. There are a lot of TB cases which are almost always AIDS related. Sister Janet says that the best way to operate is to treat everyone as though they are HIV positive. I have a lot to learn about HIV / AIDS.

By the way, in case you are worried for me, don’t be. There is a prophylactic treatment if I do fall on a needle that is very effective at preventing HIV in the case that I am accidentally injected with the virus. Occupationally acquired HIV accounts for far less than 1% of the hospital staff HIV occurrences – and these are probably the ones who didn’t go get the prophylactic treatment.

The patients don’t all speak English, so I am definitely at a disadvantage in being able to offer pastoral care. But in my brief experience on Friday, I found that I could adequately connect with the ones who do speak English (even if it was limited). There are hundreds of needy patients and not very many chaplains (we have about 5 of us going to the hospital and there are a few that are on staff there).

The hospital staff look at us with suspicion. They don’t really understand what we are doing. I was a bit surprised at the less than warm welcome because everywhere else the hospitality has been fit for a king. I guess the back story is that there have been people who have come in and said they were “pastors” or “chaplains” and then they go and “pray” with the patients. While they are “praying” they actually steal the patients belongings. This is very sad to me. We now have a very suspicious staff to deal with – and there is so much work to be done. We have to earn our respect.

My Classmates: My fellow classmates are wonderful. We have had great laughs and wonderful times together already. I can tell that I will really miss them when I leave. One day we were talking about basic orientation to the hospital and Father Matuku (one of the more experienced classmates) said that we must make sure to “Take care of the central province” when we went to the hospital. Everyone laughed. By this he meant, eat first before we go… people get weak and nauseous from the smells / sights easier if they don’t eat. I really like the saying “take care of the central province” – makes me laugh.

There are some pictures attached. One is of Father John and Sister Janet (the two directors / supervisors of the program). They are cutting a cake celebrating the 6th anniversary of our program.

There is another picture of two of my classmates who were playing with some program on my computer at lunch one day. When I get a picture of all of the class together, I will send it. By the way, the pictures are very small because it will probably take me an hour to load these little ones up because of the internet speed. Sorry if you need a microscope!

The Backyard: We have a little yard attached to our flat. This is where there is a small garden and a place to hang clothes to dry, etc. I somehow or another found out that we have some snakes that live in the back corner (a green one and a black one – nobody knows whether they are poisonous or not). As soon as I found that out, I wanted to see them (partly out of curiosity, partly out of fear). But I haven’t seen them yet. They are left alone by us because they eat mice / rats. What I have seen are some amazing birds called “weaver birds” – beautiful yellow birds that work really hard making cool looking nests. I watch them through the window while we are meeting.

Political discussions: My housemates wanted to know about American politics (of which they know a bit). That was an interesting discussion because they struggle to understand what America is doing around the world and why it intervenes in some situations and not in others. I couldn’t really explain (since I wonder the same). Kenya is full of a lot of discussions right now about politics (Kenyan politics). Their presidential election is happening in November (I think). There is constant radio / TV coverage about the presidential race. I don’t know what will happen but I’m guessing the current president will remain in office (name: Kibaki). According to people here, he has really improved the country. – Demonstration of this is the fact that there is an “open race” for the presidency and the Kenyan shilling has strengthened against the dollar (from around 80 shillings per dollar to 65 shillings per dollar). Capitalism is raging here as demonstrated by the second hand clothes market.

Hospitality: Kenyans are amazing at hospitality. It is embedded in their culture. Sadly, as westernization / individualization increases, hospitality is decreasing (according to my housemates). However, I have never experienced such amazing hospitality in my life. Even if people have nothing, they will invite you in for tea and scrounge up something from the neighbors if they have to. My housemate “Eston” has invited me to his home next weekend. He wants me to meet his wife and children and see his ministry. He works in an NGO (non-governmental organization) that deals with orphans. His home is about 200 km from here. I’m very excited to go!

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Alright, I’m done. I think I’m writing so much because I don’t have anyone to process this with here. I don’t want to lose what I am learning / thinking. Thanks for being part of my processing community. Thanks for joining me on my journey. Your love and friendship is a treasure to me.

God has abundantly blessed me with friends / shelter / food / learning here in Nairobi. Thanks for your continued prayers.

Can you please pray that I will be effective in meeting the needs of the patients that I am going to be spending many hours with? I need help overcoming culture / language barriers (God-sized help). Thanks!

Many blessings to you,

Ryan

Kenya Part 1

2008-01-17T13:56:00.000-08:00

I am writing you from a little internet shop in Nairobi, Kenya. Because I am sending this to some people who aren’t aware of why I’m here, let me explain what I am doing (sorry for the redundancy for those of you who already know).

I have just completed the academic portion of my master’s of divinity degree at Fuller Seminary and all that remained was an internship. Since I began my Seminary experience, I had really wanted to experience both Clinical Pastoral Education (“CPE” - which is hospital chaplaincy training for pastors, etc) and some sort of experience in an international setting in order to gain a more global perspective on the world. When I found out that I could combine these two into one experience I was very excited about the opportunity. So here I am in Nairobi as part of a program called “Servants of the Sick.” The program is a training center for East African women and men who are interested in learning about giving spiritual / emotional care to those in a clinical setting.

I arrived on a flight from San Francisco via London on Sunday morning at 6:00 AM. The total flight time was around 20 hours, not including sitting around in airports or on runways. While I was in London waiting for my 2nd flight, I had about 4 hours to burn. I decided to ride the tube into town and have a look around. So after I had checked in my luggage to my next flight I hopped on the underground and found my way to Buckingham Palace and the surrounding area. I had hoped to get a bus tour of the city, but I didn’t have enough time to do it and make my next flight… So I wandered aimlessly around the huge park next to the palace and found myself something to eat while observing Londoners lounging around in the park. The dollar is quite weak compared to the British Pound, so anything that I might have done was ridiculously expensive. But I did enjoy my couple of hours there before racing back to Heathrow to catch my all night flight to Nairobi.

I arrived on time to Nairobi and made it through immigration fine. I picked up my luggage and headed to the exit and noticed that there was a crowd of about 300 people holding signs with different people’s names. I made several passes up and down the line up but didn’t see my name. I waited for a few minutes and then I saw this mid-western looking lady smiling with a sign that said my name on it. Her name is “Sister Janet” and she is the director of the program. She was very friendly and took me to the “center” where I am currently staying.

There are 11 of us in the chaplaincy training program. There are 6 women and 5 men. Most of the people are from Kenya (from various tribes). We have one Ugandan and one Malawian and one woman from Ireland (she has spent 30 years in Tanzania as a missionary). A little more than half of our group is Roman Catholic and the other half is Protestant (some Anglican, some African Inland Church). We have two supervisors: one is American (Sister Janet) and one is Kenyan (Father John). Father John is hilarious and an excellent supervisor (as is Sister Janet). Father John is also a really friendly chap. He helped me buy a belt today (I forgot mine). He talked the guy down from 500 shillings to 250 shillings (about $4). If I don’t have a Kenyan bargaining for me, I pay dearly for my skin color. ☺

I have a wonderful roommate named “Father Emmanuel.” He is an Anglican priest and the archdeacon of a district of 12 churches, 4 of them without any priests. He is very kind and an excellent roommate. He is from Malawi and doesn’t speak Swahili… so he and I are good buddies since we are both often lost in conversations happening around us. Father Emmanuel is the father of 4 girls and he is the oldest of 12 children. He has lost 4 siblings to HIV/AIDS.

Today we broke up into our small groups (6 people in mine) and half of us shared our autobiographies. I can’t share what was said because of confidentiality, but I was absolutely stunned by the sheer amount of suffering and perseverance that was shared. These people are remarkable! The Joy that they demonstrate is amazing.

I have been trying to adjust to the time zone (Ambien sleeping pills are a real help). Food is interesting here as well… I have had one terrible meal that I barely choked down. But the rest of the meals have been great. We have a cook that takes care of the lunch (and we are negotiating with her about dinner). She is very sweet and a good cook. Being a vegetarian is not difficult here at all. Most of the meals are 100% vegetarian. I really enjoyed a spectacular pineapple that I bought at the market today. I think I will do fine here with food. The temperature has not gotten above 75 degrees the whole time I’ve been here. In fact, most of the time it has been in the high 60’s. (Nairobi is over 5000 feet above sea level). It has rained only once since I’ve been here.

I was amazed by something that I discovered today. Plastic bags are illegal here in Kenya. They passed the law here a month ago. They can fine you 2000 shillings ($30) if they catch you carrying anything in a plastic bag. They passed this law because of the fact that plastic bags are bad for the environment (they take 1000 years to breakdown and make the city look terrible when they are littered all over). Americans ought to take notice of our Kenyan brothers and sisters on this note (San Francisco has already done so!). In spite of this legislation, everywhere you look people are carrying plastic bags. The only people that can give you a ticket are city council members (police don’t give tickets for the bags). The legislation is working since all of the plastic bag factories have shut down production. The bags in use are the end.

Anyway, I am so grateful to be here… so excited about learning a ton about chaplaincy, East African culture, God, myself, etc.

If you made it this far reading this, thanks for paying attention. ☺ I hope that God is richly blessing you!!! I look forward to sharing more with you. If you write me, I will try to send a quick note back to you (please don’t feel obligated to write me).

Many Blessings,

Ryan