We recently sent out a newsletter of sorts, recapping the year that was 2008.  Most of you will have read it somewhere else, but just in case we missed anyone, here ya go:

Rick and Rachel Sams moved to Quito in September of 2007.  Bless their hearts, they didn’t have a clue.

2008 was their first full year in South America.  (Well, I guess technically it was Rick’s first full year in South America.  Rachel has a bit of history there.)  Throughout the last 12 months, Ecuador has been (at varying moments) a dream come true, a crucible, a very honest mirror, fertile ground, and an absolute nightmare.  Probably in many of the same ways that the settings of any of their friends’ and families’ lives have been.  (Except perhaps with less learning of other languages, customs, cultural idiosyncrasies, and complete career changes.)  Otherwise, I’m sure it’s very similar.

With regard to language learning, Rick can now tell taxi drivers “Vamos a la Granda Centeno y Bobadilla, junto al Canal Cuatro. (We’re going to Granda Centeno and Bobadilla, near Channel Four.)“  If pressed for more info, he can also tell them that Bobadilla’s first name is Gregorio, and that the whole kit and kaboodle is “cerca de la intersección de América y Brasil (near the intersection of America and Brazil).“  He has also developed the ability to insert other street names and landmarks into the basic formula, on the off chance that he wants to go somewhere other than home.  Ordering food in restaurants was one of the first skills he developed, but the last year has seen him move into the uncharted waters of being able to ask them to upsize the drink, to please refrain from slathering anything with guacamole, and to kindly batter and deep fry the pork that’s going in his “chancho agridulce (sweet and sour pork)” instead of just using slices of pork roast.  On a side note, “kit and caboodle” doesn’t seem to have a direct Spanish equivalent.  Rachel has learned the appropriate conjugations of the verb ‘coger’ (to grab, pick up, or catch … but can mean something very different and very bad and very starting with the letter “f” in much of the rest of South America) and phrases such as ‘Hay, porfa’ (a whiney, Ecuadorian way to say “please”).  Rachel can also read complicated Spanish novels and newspapers, have conversations in Spanish about politics, religion, and all the other things you’re not supposed to talk about at parties, and never says she “did” something when she means “never will do.”  Rick tries not to resent her.

Back to 2008 … Rick started the year by entering the employ of Alliance Academy International.  The previous 3.5 months had been pretty scary, as he watched his three-year-old business dissolve.  The plan had been to continue to operate Elemental Design from Ecuador, but you know what they say about the quickest way to make God laugh.  Rick spent the second semester shadowing/assisting David Tieszen, the teacher that he would replace during the 2008-2009 school year.  In January, Rachel was already most of half a year into her position in the counseling department.  It was a definite shift from her previous job (less prostitutes, meth addicts, and sex offenders), but came with its own share of challenges (more middle-school girl meltdowns, more elementary girl meltdowns, etc.).  Rachel was one of two counselors, and the only full-time one.  She worked with Deb Anderson, the counseling department head, who despite not being there all the time, prepared Rachel pretty thoroughly to take over the position the following year.  Over the summer, Deb and her family returned to the States on furlough, and Rachel has taken over the department head position, managing three part-time counselors as well.

Rick’s uncle Robert Tate, from Alaska, visited Ecuador in January.  He was along for the ride with a group from the Wesleyan Church’s Kansas district who were working on a church plant just outside of Cuenca.  Rick and Rachel had visited Cuenca just about a month earlier with some friends, had loved the town, and jumped at the chance to visit the group.  (Particularly since his aunt in Alaska decided to pay for the plane tickets.)  What had been a 9 hour bus ride in December was only a 45 minute plane ride in January.  Rick still believes he’d move to Cuenca in a heartbeat.  It’s a beautiful place.

The big news from February was kidney stones.  After four hours in the emergency room, and another three days of sheer agony, it all “came to pass.”  Rick decided that he’d about had enough of peeing through a sieve, and promised to drink more water from here on out.  The entire medical bill for the incident was less than $140.  File that one under “reasons to live in Ecuador”.  (The medical costs, not the altitude/dehydration/kidney stones bit.)

March was a major milestone, in several ways.  Records say that Quito experiences several earthquakes a week, but March 20th was the first one the Sams’ actually felt.  It awakened them at about 1:00 a.m. and was over by the time they realized what was happening.  Rick got all giggly about it, but Rachel has slept through several earthquakes and didn’t seem quite as excited.  They also had their first visitors.  Brian Fischer and his daughter Brianna (aren’t they cute?) came down for a whirlwind, four-day tour of Quito.  Brianna says she now has the travel bug, and Rick and Rachel would like to think they had a little bit to do with that.  It really was a big, big deal to have visitors come specifically to see them.  That the first ones to do so were essentially family made it all the more special.  March was also a turning point in terms of the way that Rick and Rachel were thinking of their role in Ecuador.  Despite both being missionary kids, neither of them had been very comfortable with the title when it was applied to them.  “Missionaries” were people who were sent by agencies to plant churches, win souls, and generally build the Kingdom in huge ways.  Anyway, after months of chewing on it, the Sams’ started thinking differently.  They celebrated their new mindset by performing one of the quintessential functions of a missionary — they asked for money.  March of 2008 was the first month that Rick and Rachel received outside donations from supporters other than the stipend that the school gave them.  Since then, the support on an average has steadily increased.  The whole process was one that was a big step.  Admitting that working with the children of Ecuador’s elite in a setting where they were able to share the gospel, build relationships, and be hands and feet was really a calling worthy of their honor and diligence made Ecuador seem like less of a transient experience, and more of a destination.  Knowing that it was God’s will was one thing, knowing that what they were doing was really building Kingdom was another.  Additionally, the morale boost of having people partner with them financially went a long way toward making them feel like they weren’t really alone.

April and May were a blur of school-related activities.  Rick and Rachel got more involved with Peer Helpers, a group of high-schoolers that had joined up because they’d expressed a desire to pursue a career and/or lifestyle of helping or ministering.  The group turned out to be a great place for building friendships, exploring touchy (but vital) issues, and really knowing others.  Toward the end of the school year, the Sams’ had the “privilege” of tackling the subject of sex with the group.  It was a success, really, and a meaningful discussion ensued.  Both Rick and Rachel looked forward to the following year, when they would have more control over the group’s direction.

The beginning of May brought a four-day weekend, and the opportunity to travel with some friends.  Baños (kind of the Estes Park of the Andes) had been on the docket since arriving in Ecuador, and Rick and Rachel took it in.  It was a gorgeous trip, and full of relaxing fun.  Baños is famous for its taffy, its waterfalls, and its hot springs.  The Sams’ just loved the fact that they could walk the streets at 11pm with no fear of getting mugged.  It was a good time out of the big city.  On the last day of May, Rachel celebrated her first birthday in Ecuador by going out to eat with some friends at Mongo’s, a mongolian bbq in La Mariscal (the touristy district … think Westport with more attitude and culture).  Rick and Rachel both love the Mariscal.  Good food, which isn’t really a priority in much of Andean culture, is in no short supply there.  A wide variety of dining and entertainment options abound.  On the weekends the place really doesn’t get hoppin’ until about 11:00pm, and the crowds of people keep it at least moderately safe.  Though they love the apartment they’re in now, with its proximity to the school and friends, Rick thinks that if they ever do move within Quito, La Mariscal is where he’d like to end up.

June brought about the end of the school year and the second round of house guests.  Former youth group kid and seriously loyal friend Dan Audley came down for the better part of two weeks.  He got the typical tourist treatment: Otavalo (market town an hour or so to the north), Mitad del Mundo (middle of the world equator monument that’s actually several hundred yards off the equator because the French couldn’t get it quite right), and the Teleferiqo (cable car ride most of the way up the mountain around which Quito lies to the east).  Dan got into town just in time for Rick and the yearbook class to miss it’s completion deadline, and got to spend two days in the dungeon (a.k.a. “Rick’s classroom”) helping him finish it up.  After that, Rick and Rachel were better hosts.

From July 4th through July 16th, Rick’s family descended on the Sams’ place in a happy, buzzing horde.  For four of the nights, there were eight people sleeping on couches, inflatable mattresses, contrived mat-like beds and such.  The last time the whole bunch had spent the night at Rick and Rachel’s it had been at their duplex in Olathe.  The apartment in Quito, at three, had two more bathrooms than the Olathe duplex did, which greatly contributed to the emotional (and physical) well-being of all.  All the touristy/foody sites were visited.  Christmas in July was celebrated.  Having family visit was the highlight of the year for Rick, and by “family” he means his nephews and the other folk who came along with them.  Rachel’s folks have not been able to visit yet, but they’re hopeful that 2009 will see that happen.

Then came August.  It wasn’t a good month, really, for either of them, but Rick in particular found it excruciating.  All the house guests were gone.  Most everybody they knew from the school was back in the U.S.  A friendship in which Rick had (foolishly) placed a lot of stock went south in a dramatic fashion.  A trip that Rick took toward the coast with Samaritan’s Purse ended up being a hellish experience on several levels.  About a week into the month, he began (violently) coming to grips with the fact that he’d been suffering from a depression for the better part of a year that had been slowly growing.  Now that the buzz of early summer was over, and the quiet of impending autumn had fallen, the darkness began to grow more quickly.  Rachel didn’t really know what to do except for just be there.  This wasn’t something that could be “fixed.”  They had planned on painting the apartment after company left.  Rick spent most of the painting time holed up in the bedroom staring at the wall and sniffling, while Rachel made the place prettier.  Rick didn’t want to live in Ecuador, didn’t want to learn Spanish, didn’t want to do without Tea Garden, or Chipotle, or Brian, or Kurt, or Shawn, or Jon, or Chris and was sick and tired of pretending that everything was okay when it so obviously wasn’t.  Rick saw a psychiatrist.  He started taking anti-depressants.  He reached out to a local pastor acquaintance, looking for a shoulder to lean on.  He started spending a lot of time in the gym.  Slowly the darkness started to lift.  Once the medication leveled out, things started looking less bleak.  Ecuador began to seem like less of a sentence, more of an opportunity.  The pastor became a valued friend, and started meeting with him weekly.  (He continues to do so.)  Rick put 70# on his bench press by the end of the year.  Not a huge accomplishment in the greater scheme of things, but something he could hold onto.

School started.  Rachel was the counseling department head.  She’d never managed anything before.  Now she had three people under her.  Meetings and scheduling and administrative work took up much of the time she had for pursuing what she’d loved so much about the position the previous year.  Much was different.  Still fulfilling, but different.  Rick was teaching for the first time ever, and realizing that leading youth groups wasn’t adequate preparation.  He loved the kids, and even loved seeing them learn things he cares about.  But the mechanics of teaching wasn’t something he could honestly say he loved.  His additional responsibilities (graphic design, member of the public affairs team, webmaster, peer helpers, etc.) kept him busy as well, and provided some variety.

The 2008-2009 school year brought a lot of new people, and more affirmation that the AAI/Quito missionary community is highly transient.  This year, the nationality most represented in the Sams’ group of friends is, oddly enough, Canadian.  Next year will be different, likely  There’s a group of a dozen or so that make it a regular date to crash their place on Tuesday nights for 2-for-1 pizza night and occasionally a movie or two.  There’s no shortage right now, really, of people to hang out with.  Real engagement and authenticity are harder to come by, but are starting to make an occasional appearance.

September also brought a new ministry opportunity for the Sams’.  Alliance Academy has a program called CSO (Christian Service Outreach), where high-school students can get involved in ministries that range from mentoring middle-schoolers, to working with families that live at the city dump, and anywhere in between.  Rick and Rachel hooked up with one called Opción de Vida (Choice of Life), that ministers to homeless street boys in Quito.  It’s been remarkably rewarding for them to be out and about and be recognized by kids on the street, including one fire-eater who performs for commuters near the school.  Just a week or so ago, the OdVida group picked a bunch of the kids up on a Saturday and took them out to a property the school owns about thirty minutes north of the city.  The boys played games, rode horses, ate lunch and had a short devotional out in the country, far from the harsh reality of their city life.

Rick turned 39 in October.  He celebrated it with a large number of friends at his favorite restaurant in the Mariscal, the unfortunately (and highly intentionally) named “Uncle Ho’s”.  The owners created a special menu for the occasion, and gave him a t-shirt that says “I (heart) Ho’s” on the front.  He’s careful where he wears it.  Rick had been planning his 40th birthday for several years, but obviously had to readjust some of that since he now lives in another hemisphere.  The redux is coming right along.  Stay tuned.  Rick and Rachel started the process of getting their Ecuadorian drivers’ licenses in September, and finally got them in October.  There was a ridiculous amount of red-tape to navigate, and the process really underlined the degree of government corruption that exists in Quito.  They owe most of the credit to a friend, Doris Ruales, whose husband is high up in the police department.  In a city where clout and persistence pay off, Doris has both.  (You can’t tell her no, Rick has tried.)  She’s been a huge blessing on many occasions.

November meant the Thanksgiving holiday, which is a big deal at the school, but not really in Ecuador.  Thus, it’s a great time for the gringos to head to the beach.  Rick and Rachel visited La Mapara, just between Cojimies and Pedernales, for the second time.  This year the weather was much more cooperative, and nearly everyone came home with sunburns.  Incidentally, Rick got to prepare two turkeys for the holiday, and got to explain the brining process in Spanish several times.

The holiday season is always a busy one, especially in school life.  Everybody needed posters, brochures, flyers (etc.) from Rick, and there were concerts and performances and parties to attend.  For the Sams’ there was the growing anticipation of their first visit back to the U.S. since their arrival 15 months earlier.  Finally, December 20th arrived.  They visited three states in twelve days, and saw hundreds of people.  Their time in Kansas City was insane, packed full of parties, lunches, coffees, and late night runs to Buffalo Wild Wings.  The time with the respective parents was much more subdued, which was a different kind of fantastic.  Returning to Quito was rough, after just having been in the States long enough to see all the wonderful things, but not long enough to remember that paradise isn’t spelled “K-A-N-S-A-S”.  The adjustment is setting in, though, and the countdown is on for a possible (longer) trip back stateside in the summer.

Much has changed in the past 12 months.  Crime in Quito is on the rise.  Rick and Rachel know several people who have been mugged, many of them students, some at knife and gun-point.  Friends and co-workers have had cars stolen, their houses broken into, and in one case were attacked with screwdrivers.  The government is wandering into crazy mode again.  New legislation severely regulating imports is affecting the costs of nearly everything, including groceries.  Life is getting exponentially more expensive and less secure.  Some days it’s easy to look at it all as a lesson in where security really comes from.  Some days it’s easier to wonder how they’re going to eat.  Community has begun to solidify, but the intimacy that history provides remains rare.  Rick and Rachel have started attending the English Fellowship Church full-time, largely due to a desire to be able to participate in ministry opportunities.  Rick has started occasionally working with the worship team there, but wants more.  Keep them in your prayers.  Life is good in thousands of tiny ways, but the path is still sometimes hard.  They’re gonna make it, probably in spite of themselves.

Here’s some things you can be praying about during 2009:

Increase in giving - The support coming in is making a huge difference, but there is still a need.  Budgeting for 2009 is hard, considering the growing instability in the market.  Prices are literally climbing weekly.  Rent has gone up along with everything else.

Community - It’s difficult finding authentic engagement in a culture that’s defined by what everybody does, namely missionary work.  Pray for meaningful and real connections as Rick and Rachel seek out authenticity both within and outside of the missionary community.

Transportation - The Sams’ car in Olathe still hasn’t sold.  That’s nearly $400/ month that would be freed up.  Additionally, Rick and Rachel are starting to see how having their own transportation here would be a great benefit, both in personal and ministerial terms.  A goal for 2009 is to at least get closer to having their own wheels in Quito.  As vehicles cost almost twice as much in Ecuador, and usually have to be payed for in cash (credit options are minimal) this will require some effort.  The good news is that the resale value is also very good. 

Grace/Patience/Longsuffering -  As Rick takes on two new classes (four times a week each) and adds them to an already hectic schedule, and Rachel tackles an increasing amount of inter-student drama, the planning of seminars and such for students and parents,  and administrative hoopla, pray that their patience and emotional reserves are kept filled by something external.

Safety - Quito is quickly becoming a less safe place to live.  Rick doesn’t like to let Rachel go anywhere without him.  And while they know that “safety” is an illusion, and that their fate lies soley in the hands of God, some days it’s easy to fear.

Government - Ecuador’s president and government are facing some monumental challenges, and seem to be doing so in a fairly reactive manner rather than looking toward the country’s long-term well-being.  Pray for wisdom and guidance for those whose decisions so radically impact the least of these.

Opción de Vida - The kids of Opción de Vida really are, in so many ways, the most fundamental reason why the Sams’ are in Ecuador.  These kids juggle, eat fire, pick pockets, get high, don’t sleep all night because they’re afraid, smell bad, cuss a lot, beg, steal, lie, fight, and look at you with the eyes of those who have hope because there’s no farther down to fall.  It’s challenging, rewarding, heart-rending, and a total blast to work with them.  Please pray for the building of relationships, the filling of stomachs and hearts, and the changing of lives … both theirs and the ones who serve them.

EFC - The English Fellowship Church in Quito, Ecuador has got to be one of the weirdest churches in the world.  About 50% Ecuadorian national, 40% missionary community, and 10% everything else imaginable, it provides a challenge unprecedented to any who’d dare try to create a demographic needs profile.  Any given Sunday, anywhere from 5-50 people may be there for the first and last time, as they travel through Quito on business, with a short-term missions group, etc.  Pray for Len Kinzel and the elders as they lead and attempt to respond to a wild array of needs.  Pray for Rick and Rachel as they settle in there and look for ways to lighten loads.

If you’ve gotten this far, thanks for reading.

I presented the following as a seminar to a group of students last Wednesday, right before the break.  It’s long, consider yerselves warned.

 Tikkun Olam: “Repairing the World”
Why Christians are so often wrong about heaven, the environment, fighting social injustice, and what love really looks like ‘in skin.’

Before we really get started, I’d like you to interact with a few statements for me.  Tell me what you think/feel when you hear the following:

1.    If I do all that is required of me during my physical life, I will spend eternity with God in heaven.
2.    I don’t think it’s okay to dump oil on baby harp seals or anything, but the reality is that this world is gonna burn.  Why should I focus my energies on something that isn’t eternal?
3.    There is no political issue that God cares about more than abortion.  The murder of innocent children is the greatest injustice of our time.
4.    Forgiveness is required of Christians, but that doesn’t mean we’re to be foolish about putting ourselves in situations where we’re likely to be hurt again emotionally.

I want to start with two Bible verses before we get into more esoteric and muddier waters.  If any of you are familiar at all with Kabbalah, the school of the mystical side of Judaism that has recent converts the likes of Maddona, Britney, Ashton Kutcher, Jeff Goldblum, Roseanne Barr, Posh and Becks, and Elizabeth Taylor, then you might be familiar with the title phrase of our seminar today.  The phrase is “tikkun olam”, and it’s Hebrew for “repairing the world” or “perfecting the world.”  But before we get any deeper into it, here are the verses I promised.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. (James 1:27, NIV)

and …

“These are the things you are to do: Speak the truth to each other, and render true and sound judgment in your courts; do not plot evil against your neighbor, and do not love to swear falsely. I hate all this,” declares the LORD.  Again the word of the LORD Almighty came to me. This is what the LORD Almighty says: “The fasts of the fourth, fifth, seventh and tenth months will become joyful and glad occasions and happy festivals for Judah. Therefore love truth and peace.” (Zechariah 8:16-19, NIV)

We’ll come back to these, but I want to point out two quick things for you to chew on.  First, notice that these two verses, one from the New Testament, and one from the Old, are really pretty straightforward regarding what it is that God wants.  Secondly, it’s interesting what’s not in these verses that a lot of people would tell you is high on God’s wish list.

But let’s get back to the funny Hebrew words.   Tikkun olam is not a phrase that you’ll find in the Old Testament.  It first showed up in the Mishnah, a collection of Jewish rabbinic teachings that was debated from 70-200 A.D., when it was finalized.  It shows up in the larger phrase “mip’nei tikkun ha-olam” (”for the sake of tikkun [healing] of the world”).  The argument is that practices should not only be followed because they are God’s law, but because they help to bring about “rightness” in the world.  The phrase also shows up in the Aleinu, a well-known Jewish prayer.  The context there is translated into English as “to perfect the world under God’s sovereignty.”  The prayer expresses hope that the whole world one day will recognize God and abandon idolatry, which will bring perfection to creation.  I think you’ll agree that none of those are bad ideas.  Basically, Jewish teaching was that only Messiah will ever completely bring about the healing that the broken world needs.  However, it is our job and our sacred calling to live out our lives as agents of change amidst the brokenness, redeeming and in small ways bringing light to every encounter and opportunity that comes our way, all the while looking forward to the great mending of all things that will one day come.

Tikkun olam is, in its most basic sense, about action.  It’s about the things we do.  I was reading recently some things that different Christian thinkers have said about the topic of authenticity, and one of the definitions I came across was “the integration of belief and behaviour.”  That’s tikkun olam.  It’s where the rubber of your mental constructs hits the road of gritty, dirty, real life situations and circumstances.  It’s when your values and beliefs begin to emerge from hiding within the “theoretical,” and come out into the light of the “practical.”  It’s how you put into practice the things you say are your “irreducibles.”  To practice what I’m preaching, let me put it in more concrete terms.  Tikkun olam is in the difference between believing that God has a soft spot in his heart for the poor, and actually giving the lady out front of the hospital a buck or two, even though you know she doesn’t really have a sick son in there.  Tikkun olam is the difference between loving people who are cool, beautiful, and easy to love, and loving people who don’t have anything to give you in return.  Tikkun olam is the difference between “staying out if it” because it’s really none of your business, and sticking your neck out to defend someone who’s being treated unfairly.  Tikkun olam is when your beliefs start to cost you something, and when your values come with a price tag.

You’re going to find me jumping back and forth between these two vantage points as we walk through this.  I’ll spend some of my time talking about ideas and beliefs that we have, and some time talking about our actions and responses.  If you’re tracking with me, you might be wondering why I’d focus so much on beliefs and ideas, if the subject matter is so much more about the practical outworkings.  The reason is this:  If I can borrow from a teacher that has taught me much about philosophy, the truth is that ideas have consequences.  The thinks we think and believe will inform the ways we act and behave.  If, for instance, I don’t believe that environment really has all that much to do with the personal development of the individual, I may subconsciously downplay the importance of providing support and encouragement to those around me (believing such to be of little value in the bigger picture), and thus one day find myself alone, having few friends willing to put up with my callous and brusque nature.  Ideas have consequences.

Let’s get into some of our specific subject areas.  First off, heaven.  What do most evangelicals picture when they hear the word?  Fluffy white clouds, and harps played by fat, baby angels?  A giant golden cube suspended somewhere in space?  Some trans-dimensional intersection of cosmic realities that exists solely in God’s ability to imagine it?  We have difficulties picturing heaven, largely because the book that tells us most about it also deals with locusts from hell, repetitions of numbers with uncertain significance, talking animals, bowls, trumpets, and women of ill repute riding seven-headed dragons.  I don’t mean at all to be dismissive of the serious study of Revelation, but the reality is that there’s a whole lot about the book that we don’t know.  So, if you had to summarize a “traditional” view of heaven from an evangelical perspective, what would it include?  Streets of gold, sunlessness … all in a place “somewhere else” where we go to be with God after we die?  All after this ball we live on now is consumed by fire.  Sound about right?  How many of you would be surprised to realize that the overwhelming majority of references to our eternal destination actually refer more to God coming to us than us going to Him?  When the Old Testament refers to the “new heaven and the new earth” in Psalm 65:17, you have to read that with the knowledge that the Old Testament has no single word for “universe”.  When the New Testament refers to the “new heaven and the new earth” in II Peter 3:13, and Revelation 21:1, you have to read that with the understanding that scripture nowhere gives us any reason to believe that God’s dwelling place needs to be restored.  “Heaven” in this context has to mean something else.  God is not coming back to destroy this place where we live.  He’s coming back to make it right, to perfect, redeem, and restore it.  It could well be that the path to that restoration will lead through fire, as it does for many of us.  But we cannot forget that His ultimate purpose for this planet is to return it to its former glory and insure that it forever serves its original purpose, which is to glorify its Maker.  Can you see how having a wrong idea about heaven can change the way you act?  God has put me here, in time and space.  He has sovereignly placed me where He saw fit, and where He wanted me to be about the work of the “making right” of his Creation.  Heaven will be eternal peace with God, the absence of sin and temptation, no more tears or sorrow; but it will also be the re-making of that which sin has twisted and ruined.  Our world will be set right, and we will live in its beauty forever.

Having said that, it’s an obvious segue to move into talking about the environment.  This is a very divisive subject among Christians, largely because we don’t agree ideologically with the majority of the people who champion the cause.  When you think about it, that has all the logic of refusing to eat candy bars because some people who eat candy bars also smoke, or kick puppies, or vote for Democrats.  If it’s true that this world is broken, and if it’s true that a great restoration is one day coming, and if it’s true that it’s our job to be about the little mending of all that we encounter every day … then what does that mean about how we should consider the environment?  Let’s start first with a few facts about the environment.  First off, it’s a buzz-word.  Next time someone starts telling you about how liberals care too much about the “environment”, try to get them to substitute the word “creation” and see if it changes their rhetoric any.  That’s really what we’re talking about here.  We’re talking about the physical plant, the non-human elements of terrestrial creation.  Whether you believe that God took seven literal days to make all that we see, or whether you think the “days” there could refer to longer periods of time, the reality is that He could’ve done it all with the snap of a divine finger.  He didn’t.  He took time, and when He was done, He called it “good”.  His involvement with His creation doesn’t end there, though.  Time and time again in scripture we’re reminded that God holds His creation in His hands, sustaining it, knowing every sparrow that falls.  It is He that brings water upon the earth, Who bring crops forth in their seasons, and all of His creation sings back to Him, telling the glory of God and proclaiming His handiwork.  To put it simply, striving to be like God means caring about the things He cares about.  Who could doubt that He cares for His creation, even the non-human elements of it?  Further, if our previous point is true, and this place will be our eternal home, then what we’re doing by caring for God’s creation is tikkun olam, through and through.  We are, quite literally, “repairing the world”.

Up until now, we’ve been largely talking about “things”.  Let’s shift gears a little bit, and spend the rest of our time talking about actions that hit a little closer to home, namely our actions toward our fellow man.  Talking about fighting social injustice is another endeavor fraught with peril in Christian circles.  Lots of terminologies get thrown around, and generally more heat than light is generated.  Again, a lot of it has to do with the ideological makeup of those we like to think of as the “enemy”, and the good things they believe that we call bad simply because of the association.  Now, I believe God is sovereign.  By that, I mean that I believe that there is nothing out of His divine control.  Some babies are born to wealthy U.S. families, while others die in the Far East from simple untreated maladies we don’t even think about anymore.  God is in control of all of that.  So what I’m not saying is that I believe the world should all be like middle-class, suburban America.  Throughout history, God has shown us time and time again that His Bride becomes more beautiful and develops more character when she is subjected to hardship and persecution than when she has easy access to McDonald’s and all the freedoms she can imagine.  All suffering is because of sin.  But just because suffering is present, it doesn’t mean that it’s not God’s will in the short run.  As a matter of fact, Jesus pretty clearly tells us to expect it.  Having said that, though, scripture plainly tells us that we are to fight injustice.  We need look no farther than our starter verses.  The Zechariah passage is particularly clear. “These are the things you are to do: Speak the truth to each other, and render true and sound judgment in your courts; do not plot evil against your neighbor, and do not love to swear falsely”. Proverbs 31:8-9 says, “Open your mouth, judge righteously, and defend the rights of the afflicted and needy.” Micah 6:8 asks what the Lord requires of us, and answers “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God”. The James passage goes so far as to say that religion that God finds pure and faultless is to “to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”  No mention of dress codes or whether you homeschool your kids or whether you only listen to Christian music.  Orphans and widows, and staying focused on God.  Does that sound too easy to you?  If it does, then you’ve probably bought a little bit into the lie that it’s the things you do or don’t do that impresses God.  It’s not.  The only thing that impresses God about you is the perfect sinless life of His son Jesus that He sees every time He looks your direction.  What it boils down to is this:  right is right, even if the wrong people are doing it, and wrong is wrong, even if the right people are doing it.  If you have to link arms with someone with whom you disagree on almost everything in order to feed the poor, defend the weak, or help the helpless … do it!

But okay, that’s the homeless, the destitute, the immigrants and the broken.  What about my friends?  What about the people in my life every day?  What about my classmates, my co-workers, the people I go to church with, and my family?  What does all of this mean with regard to them?  Let me go off the path here for a second and tell you my opinion.  I think that the most important thing that we get to do here is what I call our vertical obligation.  At any given moment, there is nothing more important going on in your life than how you are relating to God.  He is your Maker, your Sustainer, and your Future, and you owe Him big time.  He makes no bones about it.  We owe him worship, honor, and praise … simply because of Who He is.  Only a little ways below that, though, is what I call our horizontal obligation, the responsibilities we have to those that God sovereignly puts in our paths every day.  Those of you who’ve spent more than 30 minutes talking to me have probably heard me reference a quote from C.S. Lewis, taken from his essay “The Weight of Glory.”  It’s one of my favorites because he says it so much better than I ever could, and I offer it here in it’s context:

It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics.

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously—no flippancy, no superiority, no resumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner—no mere tolerance or indulgence hich parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your
Christian neighbour he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat—the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.

So it is that I firmly believe that the second most important thing, the second most sacred thing we are ever given the privilege to do, is to enter into our fellow traveler’s “crap”, their “mess”, and stand knee-deep in it and try to keep each other from falling down.  The mental picture of two people standing knee-deep in their own excrement is ludicrous, at least until you remember times when you were well more than knee-deep in your own, and were left to go it alone.

What does that look like in relationships?  That’s a question with highly individual answers, and goes well beyond the scope of what I’ve prepared here today.  Here are some principles, though:

• It’s not work if it doesn’t cost you something.  If it’s easy, you’re probably not doing all that you could be.
• People who are easy to love are easy to love.  There’s more virtue in loving those that aren’t as easy.
• Honesty about your own “mess” is one of the most common keys to authentic engaging with your fellow travelers.  Everybody knows you’ve got it, own it.
• There are two kinds of “selfish jerk.”  Everybody knows the first kind, who takes and takes and never gives.  The second kind is more subtle.  They’re the type in a relationship who give and give, but never take.  They never lean on people, never let anyone into their mess.  When they do that, they communicate one of two things: either 1.) that they don’t have any mess to enter into (which everyone knows is a lie), or 2.) that the mess they do have is their own, and that while they’re worthy of standing knee-deep in yours, you’re not worthy of entering into theirs.
• Remember the definition of authenticity; “the integration of behaviour and belief”.  The things that you believe about your fellow travelers will affect the way you treat them.  When you realize that everyone you’ve ever met deserves dignity and respect, simply by virtue of being a bearer of the image of God, you will approach those interactions with the holy fear they require.  Ideas have consequences.

Relationships are the front-line in this effort.  Nowhere else will you encounter the brokenness of the world in more graphic detail.  Nowhere else will you have as much access to that brokenness. And nowhere else will the small acts of healing, mending, and redemption that you can perform have as profound and lasting an effect.

Let me try to take some of the trails that we’ve skittered down and pull them into something you can take home.  Healing the world is, of course, something that you and I will never accomplish.  All of the government or non-profit programs in the world will not set the world to right.  Every email forward you’ve ever received about telling your friends today that you love them, or not buying gas on Thursday, or spaying and neutering your pets (well-intentioned though they may be), will never bring about lasting peace and harmony, even if everyone in the world made the effort at the same time.  There is one Healer, one Perfector, one Lifter of our heads, and it is only His coming restoration that will make our world, our bodies, and our relationships into what His plan has been all along.

But, in His wisdom, He has given us a part to play in His grand design for this place He originally called “good.”  He has placed within all of us His image.  He has granted us the right and privilege to be agents of His change, His heart for His people and His world.  From spending an afternoon picking up trash in a park, to speaking the truth in love to a brother or sister who’s hurting … from buying lunch for the shoeshine kid on the street to writing letters of encouragement to political and religious prisoners … from organizing an awareness campaign for the homeless to spending a day off with a friend who you know needs it instead of doing things that feed you … all of these are tikkun olam.  All of these are little healings of brokenness in your corner of the world.

So do these things: act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with your God, and love truth and peace.  Look for ways every day to be His hands and feet in the lives of those He sends across your path.  And pray that He will use you in some small way each day to heal His world.

I think God is always speaking … always.  I believe that sometimes, for His purposes, He can and does render us unable to hear or listen.  I think that may have been a big part of what this past year has been for me.  I didn’t hear anything.  Sure, it’s possible that I wasn’t really listening, but He has ways of fixing that when He wants.  Right now I feel like i’m learning how to hear Him for the first time, but more on that later.

I also believe that “American” Christians think about failure in a completely backward manner.  It might just be the Calvinist in me talkin’, but I believe that God does much, much more than simply “allow” us to fail at things.  I believe he orchestrates it.  And I’m not just talkin’ about the Hitlers and Pharaohs of the world.  I believe He’ll guide, lead, and direct me into something for the express purpose of having me fail miserably.  Even here, my practical, entitled, idol-factory-worker self wants to say that He would only do something like that to shape me, mold me into something that looks more like His son.  The sad truth is that the real reason I hold onto that imagery is that I want Him to build me into something that’s a better version of me … something in my image, not His.  I’ve caught myself saying (only half-jokingly) in the last couple of weeks that I didn’t know if Ecuador was refining or ruining me.  I think I know the answer now.  I think the failures that God faithfully leads us into aren’t to teach us a lesson, nor really even to mold and shape us.  I think we think about that completely inside out.  I think He’s doing all of that to break me down.  I think He’s doing it to destroy me.

“God cares much more where you’ll be in five minutes than He does where you’ll be in five years” is a statement that I’ve made for years, but understood little until this moment.  What it means is that there is a choice placed before me in this shattered and broken state.  I can struggle, and try to stand up again … all very noble and western-style pictures, those.  I can try and pull the pieces together, and carry on for Jesus.  Or … I could quit.  I could stop trying.  Stop and realize that even if I had the power, anything i could possibly “do” would only make things worse.  I could just quit, lie down, and let my brokenness dissolve into Him.  Right here.  Right now.  He doesn’t want my future.  He doesn’t want my plans, my potential, my talents.  He wants me.  And what He wants to do with me is to completely eradicate any sense of self that isn’t rooted in His definition of who I am.  He wants me to be completely consumed in the eternal moment that is Him.  The picture of Him filling me is ridiculously insufficient.  I must melt, evaporate, and fall helpless and paralyzed into Him.  Right here.  Right now.

It’s really the only choice I have in the matter … whether or not I choose to fall in paralyzed surrender.  Not really whether I choose to “do” or “say” or “be” this or that.  My best efforts will miss the mark by embarrassing margins.  All I can do is fall, paralyzed, before Him … into Him, and submit myself to whatever He might have in mind.  The beauty of it is that when I do, it all ceases to matter.  All of it.  My fears and doubts, my missing home, my failed friendships, my regrets, my shame … none of it matters.

There’s a lot of parallels right now with my learning of Spanish and my learning to hear God.  It’s such a struggle, and I realize that’s probably because I’ve never really done it before.  Not right, anyway.  The vocabulary He’s using is the most fundamental, and I’m still reeling with the import.

I’ve been reading Judges recently.  It’s one of my favorite books.  There’s so much visceral “rawness” to the story-telling.  Something really struck me as I was reading the other night.  I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of the “warrior-priest”.  It’s a peculiarly Western idea that the two must be separated - that the pursuits of men of the cloth and men of the sword are mutually exclusive and incompatible.  The Buddhist Shaolin monks of China are perhaps the most well-known example in the West that the East holds no such conviction.  As I was reading, I was reminded that this book is not a Western book.  The judges that God raised up to deliver Israel from the hands of her oppressors fit neatly into this category.  From Ehud’s dagger to Sampson’s brute strength, the stories of their conquests are bloody and merciless.  At the same time, these were all men who gave glory to God for the deliverance, who led the Israelites with grace and wisdom during times of peace, and who stood between God and the people in a role that not only foretold the arrivals of the prophets, but of Christ himself.  It also occured to me that perhaps this is a much better picture for what God expects of men in regard to masculinity than what either the traditional evangelical church or Mr. Eldredge have to offer.  Not hatin’, just sayin’.

Sorry I’ve not posted in a bit. The “day in the life” post will have to wait a bit longer.

I’ve been thinking a lot about community recently. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how differently that word is coming to be defined for me. I don’t know that it’s necessarily a bad thing, but it’s definitely a learning curve.

I’ve talked here before about the unique nature of the AAI community. I’ve learned some hard lessons recently about not sticking my foot in my mouth with friends who may or may not believe like I do. There’s one guy I work with who very nearly worships the Gaithers, and another who attended a Vineyard stateside and is currently conducting healing services in the bible class he teaches. I’m afraid I might have let slip how I felt about both of their respective passions before they revealed them. The reality here is that I’m not surrounded by like-minded people. Neither is anyone else here, probably. Again, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it’s something to get used to.

There’s a unique quality to places with large concentrations of ex-pats. You find yourself sitting down for coffee with kinds of people with whom you’d likely not have much to talk about if they were your neighbor stateside. It cuts across lines of politics, race, religion — all the things that normally keep north americans neatly separated. All of a sudden, a graduate of UC Berkley can find something to really enjoy about a graduate of Wheaton; an African-American from inner-city Detroit can find common ground with someone not two generations removed from the hill folk of West Virginia.

In one sense, it’s a refreshing change. It kind of breaks the non-essentials down, and you find yourself looking for the things in common rather than the things that separate. On the other hand, you find yourself shifting into a mode where even some of your “moderately essentials” start to go underground. I don’t talk much about politics or theology, for fear that I might have less in common with my new “friend” than I thought. Particularly when they’re the only person in a mile or so in any direction that speaks your language.

Sadly, the community at the school isn’t really all that different. We have much in common. We’re all far away from “home.” We’re all adjusting. We’re all making do on far less than we were before. But we’re all from very, very different backgrounds. I can’t assume that the guy who’s sitting next to me in chapel holds the same views as I on baptism, women in leadership, evolution, capital punishment, abortion, or gay marriage. As long as we keep it very shallow, though, we can be “friends” during the time we’re here. I’ve wondered whether the nature of the community at AAI wasn’t more “ex-pat” than “missionary”.

The other major factor I’m noticing is just how fluid community is here. The person you completely click with and would love to get to really know may or may not be here in six months. You just never know. Rachel and I have been here just seven months, and have already had to say goodbye to one couple we really cared for, and are less than two months from losing another one. The guy that I’ve hit it off with the most down here is definitely planning on leaving at the end of the year, and may be gone in a month and a half.

One development that has had no small impact on us in this regard has to do with our home church, Oak Hills Presbyterian.  I hesitated to even write about this, as I don’t want to offend anyone, but it really has been something Rachel and I have struggled with. When we left, really the only thing we told the leadership that we wanted was to continue to feel connected to what OHPC was doing, and vice versa. That hasn’t happened … not even a little bit. I’ll admit we didn’t know what kind of specifics to ask for in that regard. We had never done this before.  In the church’s defense, neither had they. All I really know is that we had this amazing community there, and it all feels at least 3,000 miles away now.  Both Rachel and I had grown up in the church, but really felt like we’d found family there for the first time.  I had a friend challenge me on this whole deal a while back, and ask me just what it was that I was expecting.  It’s a fair question, and I’m not sure of the answer.  I just didn’t think it would almost entirely go away.

I don’t want you to misunderstand this post. I’m not miserable.  I’m not really homesick.  As a matter of fact, the last couple of weeks I’ve been noticing deep feelings of contentment with living here.  I love the mountains more than ever.  “Summer” is starting to kick in, which means it’s not raining every day now.  Temperatures were up in the mid-70’s today.  It’s beautiful here. I was just telling Rachel today that I feel like I’m getting comfortable with the level of alertness and defensiveness that you have to employ when out and about.  The language is developing to the point that I can get around ordering off menus now, and can tell the cabbies where we need to go.  (I’ve even taken a few cabs different places by myself.)  I’m really content. I, of course, came down here knowing that a shift like moving to South America would change things about me.  Lots of things have changed, and are changing.  This is the first potential change that’s arisen of which I’ve been afraid, though.  I don’t want to turn into that guy that is okay with shallow “buddy-style” friendships that don’t leave any sense of grief or loss in the wake of their passing.

I’m not really sure what to do about it.

Every once in a while, I’m floored by the passionate poetry U2’s lead singer employs when he sings about heaven.  I was listening to “Electrical Storm” today, which may be the band’s most under-rated song.  Toward the middle, there’s this lyric:

Let’s see colours that have never been seen
Let’s go to places no one else has been

You’re in my mind all of the time
I know that’s not enough
Well if the sky can crack, there must be some way back
To love and only love

Electrical Storm
Electrical Storm
Electrical Storm
Baby don’t cry

It’s not a new song, nor is it the first time I’ve felt tears strain at the corners of my eyes while it was playing.  Maybe it’s being here.  Maybe it’s having just said farewell to good friends.  It gives hope, though, even to a cynic like me, that the biggest rock band in the world can speak openly about heaven’s lightning that struck the earth once in manger, that will one day return to split the sky into a doorway back where we belong.

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.

Even so …

I was chatting with a friend online the other day, and he asked me what spiritual lessons I’d learned in the last three months. I thought it an exceptionally good question, and perhaps one I wasn’t really ready to answer on the spot. My immediate answer was “Never, ever assume that you know what God is doing in your life” and “You may think that you want to know what God has in store for you next, but you probably really don’t.”

Now that I’ve had a few more days to think about it, though, I think my answer would be a bit more reverent. I think my answer today would be more along the lines of this:

“God is using every interaction that you have with different circumstances and people, every minute of every day to shape you into something that is pleasing to Him. Some of those circumstances and people are highly visible … like a move to another continent, where you trade the proximity of most of your best friends with that of perfect strangers and a completely new culture. Others can pass by unnoticed, if you’re not watching … like mail that doesn’t show up when you think it should, or the way the guard at your building greets you in the morning. All things are part of the divine machinery that is making us into vessels fit for the King’s use.”

Thirteen weeks ago tonight, we became residents of this country. In that time I’ve not gone hungry, been without shelter and a warm place to sleep, nor suffered the want of anything more significant than my favorite kind of deodorant and candy corn. I have been so blessed. God has been/is being faithful to place me in situations where growth is mandatory.

I’m not promising that there won’t be additional dark and spooky days where I miss my friends, my family, and my comfortable places. I am, however, giving notice that this is the context in which I “suffer”. The discomfort, frustration, and sadness that I feel is all being played out within the hollow of the hand of Him Who called, purchased, redeemed, and sustains me every waking moment … and He loves me more than I could ever possibly imagine.

Rick wrote earlier that he would let me talk a little about my part in our ministry here. I have to admit, I don’t really know what to write. Mostly, because what I do here isn’t too different from what I did in Kansas… only a little more international.

I am still in the process of getting to know the kids at Alliance Academy. There is still the stigma of being the ‘counselor/therapist/shrink’, where many seem to think that I am analyzing everyone I meet (if they only knew how easily my brain disconnects from that when I am not in session!).

Like any school, there are kids here who are/have been in crisis. Some of them come from healthy and supportive homes. Some of them come from struggling homes. Some of them come from abusive homes (which is tough, as there are very few laws here to protect children from abuse). Many of the issues here are the same as in any other school (anxiety, depression, overwhelmed, cutting, social issues w/ peers, bullying, etc.). Not all of the children, or their families, are Christian and not all of them have Biblical values. Even so, I haven’t met anyone yet that I don’t like. There is a glimmer of The Divine in each of them.

I am very thankful for the Peer Helpers group, where I am able to be a non-therapeutic leader in a group of teens. Rick seems to be coming into his own in this group, also. Last week he hammed it up a little more, and no one seemed to object… Those of you who have sat in youth group w/ him know what that is like! The group reminds me a little of Oak Hills youth group, which is nice and nostalgic at the same time.

Another part of what I do is ministering to the teachers. The teachers here all seem to be pretty experienced and capable, but a little encouragement goes a long way. Since the school has started taking in more national students, not all of them missionary kids and not all of them from Christian homes, the teachers are facing issues that were less common at Alliance Academy before (IE. single-parent homes, history of abuse, cultural issues, language issues, etc.). Several teachers have approached the counseling department to ask advice on how to best help the kids as they deal w/ these issues.

As Rick has stated before, I think that a large part of ministry is really just ‘doing what you’ve always done, wherever you are’. Our daily interaction w/ the guard/doorman at our apartment, our monthly interaction w/ our landlady, our chance encounters w/ our neighbors (even the little boy next door who rings our doorbell constantly!), and even the people in the supermarket who cut in front of us in line…

Thank you all for your prayers. The last month has been tough. Finances have been tight, as Rick’s primary client is no longer going to give him their business. We are desperately praying that God will provide for us here. The holidays are quickly approaching, and we will not be w/ family for the first time in many years. There are many blessings and many challenges ahead.

By tomorrow evening, we will be on the beach at Pedernales (sp?) with friends! Woot! It looks like the temperature will be in the mid-80’s with possibility of thunderstorms. I am soooo excited!

I am just as excited about the 4-6 hour drive that we’ll take to get there. I realize that parts of it will be mind-numbingly boring, but parts of it will include beautiful scenery and parts of Ecuador that we haven’t seen before. Rest assured, Rick will probably take lots of pictures!

It struck me today that, part of me still feels like I could wake up tomorrow and everything would be like it was two months ago. And part of me kinda likes that idea! Other days it feels like Ecuador will go on forever… and part of me kinda likes that idea, too. Either way, there is excitement and newness, but all sadness and … well, the Brazilians have a word… saudade (sow-da-jee)… it means ‘missing’ and ‘nostalgia’ and ‘how you feel when you are away from someone you love and wish you were with them’… Very succinct, the Brazilians! That is how I feel for Kansas and family. Ironically, for many years that is how I felt for South America… Ah, the pain of distance in a fallen world…

Well, I should quit waxing philosophical and get to work. I have to lead a seminar tomorrow for the high schoolers on “How to help a friend who is hurting themself”. It’ll be interesting to see where the topic goes…

I continue to be amazed at my minds ability to bounce back and forth between random emotions. Within one single day, my emotions can range from ‘excited and happy to be here’ all the way to ‘hopelessly lost and homeless’.

There is a part of me that feels a sense of comfort and relief in Spanish culture. It isn’t that I feel like I fit here, as much as my comfort zone appears to be in the knowing that ‘I don’t fit here’. Who knew that ‘not belonging’ would be my default setting!

On the other hand, ‘not belonging’ or just being ‘new’ in my work setting is always a huge stressor. I tell myself that it is temporary and that, eventually, I will know the ropes. For now, I am continually wondering if I have missed something or somehow done the right/wrong thing. People are gracious, and it is getting better, but it still feels pretty weird. I have an appointment scheduled to meet and consult with the Regional Psychiatrist for the American Embassy next month. I have to admit, that one overwhelms me more than a little bit!

Rick and I are making some friends here, people we can spend time with and who share some common interests. Even so, no one here knows us like our friends in Kansas do. There is a level of comfort and ‘being known’ that we do not have here (and may never have here…). It is nice to know that we are still in touch with friends in the States who know us and love us anyway! Thank you all for your love and prayers!