Dear faithful and much neglected blog readers.
I have been thinking a lot over the last several months about what the incarnation means in my life, especially in light of my friend Lisa's illness. What does it mean that God became flesh? What does it mean for those of us who live as flesh now? What does it mean for how we are to approach those around us?
Many different thoughts have been simmering in my mind on these issues, but I have no answers yet. Perhaps I will never have a true answer this side of heaven. However, I wanted to meditate a little on some of the writings I have encountered along the way, and I thought I would share the meditations/writings with you:
These are excerpts from several books I have been reading. Although I must admit that the most profoundly influential book on me over the last several months has been a rather badly written, beautifully clumsy book by Marva Dawn called Powers, Weakness and the Tabernacling of God. However, I just returned this book to the friend I borrowed it from in September, so I won’t be quoting directly from it.
The place in God’s word to which I keep turning these past few months is 2 Corinthians, so I will start my meditations with a few of the key passages in this book.
2 Corinthians 1:5
“For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows”
2 Corinthians 4:7-5:10
“For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; persecuted but not abandoned; struck down but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body…” And the passage goes on to describe how we are gaining an eternal glory that far outweighs our “light and momentary troubles” and how though we long to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, we are confident as we wait in the tent of this body, and make it our goal to please Christ.
In the book A Spirituality of the Road by David Bosch, he reflects on this passage:
“[The apostle Paul] moves between two worlds…I believe that Paul’s existence on the borderline between the already and the not yet, in the reaching out for what lies ahead and pressing toward the goal, is of tremendous importance for our missionary existence today. It ought to be the very antithesis of neutral aloofness, contentment and passivity, as it ought to be the antithesis of shallow enthusiasm and hyperactivity.”
The book is focused on what it means to be a missionary ministering through weakness, but the phrase that hit me light a lightening bolt was “existence on the borderline between the already and the not yet”. That is what I want to be, in my own life, in relationships with those around me, in living in this neighborhood. I want to be one who in my body contains the reality of the unseen Kingdom.
2 Corinthians 12:7
“To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Somehow this discussion of weakness draws me into meditation on what Lisa’s suffering means, what the weakness of the children I serve means, and what I means to myself be weak in this way.
Henri Nouwen was a prolific and beautiful writer, who spent the last years of his life living in community with those whose bodies were very weak. In his book Adam: God’s Beloved, he reflects on the life of one of the severely physically impaired men who lived in the Daybreak community, in light of the life of Christ.
“The word ‘passion’ is derived from the Latin verb patior, which means “to undergo.” It is related to the word “passive.” Jesus’ passion came after much action. For three years he went from village to village, town to town, preaching, teaching, responding to people’s questions, healing the sick, confronting the hyprocrites, consoling the sorrowing, calling the dead back to life…But at Gethsemane – the Garden of Olives – all this action came to a sudden end. There Jesus was handed over by one of his own disciples to undergo suffering. From that moment he could no longer do anything; everything was done to him. He was arrested, put in prison, led before Herod and Pilate, flagellated, crowned with thorns, given a cross to carry, stripped of his clothes, nailed on the cross, and ridiculed until he died. He could no longer act. He was only acted upon. It was pure passion. The great mystery of Jesus’ life is that he fulfilled his mission not in action but in passion, not by what he did, but by what was done to him…iIn was when he was dying on the cross that he cried out “It is fulfilled.”
After reflecting specifically on Adam’s life of “passion” as someone who spent most of his time ‘undergoing’ the action and decisions of others, Nouwen turns to what “passion” looks like in our lives:
“The truth is that a very large, if not the largest, part of our lives is passion. Although we all want to act on our own, to be independent and self-sufficent, we are for long periods of time dependent on other people’s decisions. Not only when we are young and inexperienced or when we are old and needy but also when we are strong and self-reliant. Substantial parts of our success, wealth, health, and relationships are influenced by events and circumstances over wheich we have little or no control. We like to keep up the illusion of action as long as we can, but the fact is that passion is what finally determines the course of our life.”
I wonder, if passion means “to undergo”, what is compassion?
A final book I have been reading through is Joni Eareckson Tada’s A Lifetime of Wisdom: Embracing the Way God Heals You, a reflection on the “precious rubies” of wisdom God has given her through 40 plus years of quadriplegia. Here is one “ruby” that stood out to me the other day:
“The power of the Good News is released in your life when you allow your weakness to showcase the awesome the awesome might and love of our Savior. When we serve Him and model Him in our suffering, we have opportunities to extend His salvation farther than we ever could in our strength.”
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Reflections on the Incarnation after seven months in LA
At the end of my Servant Partners ‘quarter’ several of my fellow-interns and I reflected on our time by presenting a short skit based on the Advent wreath. As I have continued to reflect on the past seven months, the images of Advent seem an appropriate format in which to share a few stories of my own…
The Prophecy Candle
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
Because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind,
to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Luke 4:18-19
The Prophecy Candle reminds us that God’s eternal promises to bring freedom, justice, and holiness are still being fulfilled today…
I remember when I knew that I was going to join Servant Partners. I was standing in church in September 2008, singing praises, when suddenly the thought popped through my head “When I am in LA” – and I burst into tears. Because I knew that LA and Servant Partners were God’s calling for me.
And now, a year, and seven moves later, I finally can say I have a home in South LA, and am beginning to taste the promises of community and ministry. God still has many things to teach me on this journey, and many promises to fulfill – promises to free his people from oppression, rebuild broken walls, and bring the poor, the sick, the broken and hurting into his kingdom. They are now and not-yet promises; now because Jesus, the promise himself, is alive in us in South LA, and not-yet because Jesus’s ultimate kingdom is still coming.
The Bethlehem Candle
“So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went their to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there the time came for the baby to be born and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” Luke 2:4-7
The Bethlehem Candle reminds us that God became incarnate in the least likely of places. Far from home, lonely, practically homeless, Bethlehem was certainly not where Mary and Joseph would have chosen to be that day...
When I figured out I couldn’t go home for Thanksgiving, I was pretty devastated. After six months away, I really wanted to be with be family for the holiday. But time and money constraints and simple common sense said that going home for Thanksgiving just wasn’t going to happen. So after some tears and prayers, I resigned myself to being in LA for the holiday, even as my roommates prepared to go home or visit friends.
As the time approached, it became clear to me that I really wanted to be IN my neighborhood for Thanksgiving day, and was glad when my neighbor down the street, a Servant Partners staff-worker, invited me to join her and a few other remenant interns for Thanksgiving dinner. But I continued to slightly dread spending the day in LA, rather than at home with my loved ones.
Thanksgiving morning dawned beautiful and clear, the best of Southern California fall weather, and I awoke filled with an unexplainable peace and joy. As I walked to the grocery store and did some last-minute baking, I found all the anxiety dispelled, and I very simply knew that I was supposed to be there that day. My heart kept singing to God “It is impossible for me to be anywhere but where you have me”.
Around noon, as I took out the trash, I stopped to greet my neighbors, two grandmothers, a young man, Jose, his wife, Christina, and their one-year-old son Alex. After a few pleasantries in mixed English and Spanish, I asked where they were going for Thanksgiving. “We are going to East LA to join our family, but our car won’t start”. Wishing I knew a thing about cars, I offered a jump, which Jose and I tried, but the car still wouldn’t start. After some more fiddling, Jose and I went to the nearest gas station to pick up a few gallons of gas, but the car still wouldn’t start. Finally, they ended up calling their relatives to come and get them, and I went back into the house, offering to help if there was anything else I could do. Once in the house, I sat down and prayed about the whole situation, asking God to open more doors through this interaction.
Five minutes later, Christina knocked on the door, asking me to run her to Food-For-Less to pick up the chips and dip she had promised to bring for Thanksgiving dinner. So we ended up going to the grocery store together, and having quite a nice conversation about our families and histories as we waited in the epic line of last minute Thanksgiving shoppers.
I thought the story was over at that point, but a week later, God added the punchline, when Christina came over to invite us to her niece’s birthday party, complete with jumper and piñata. So for the first time we found ourselves in an ‘insider’ position within the apartment complex, joining our neighbors in celebration, and tasting a bit of the community God had brought us to South LA to find.
The Angels Candle:
“But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:10-11
The Angel Candle reminds us that there is good news, and that the good news came in the form of a baby…
“To the CDK staff…a.k.a. Angels on Earth – From the Hopper family”. I had to laugh when I saw the label on a large box of goodies in the kitchen at work. Especially when I thought of Dana, my co-worker, wrestling with severely autistic Andy Hopper several times a week, and looking like anything but an angel.
Really, I thought, we aren’t the angels at all…it’s our kids. They are anything but perfect, but as far as being messengers from God, they are the ones who bring good news.
Two year old Marco and his twin brother Jose, running on their tip-toes across the waiting room, flapping their arms and shrieking joyful greetings when I walk through the door - they are my angels.
Six year old Caleb, standing at a table, dropping balls in a track and yelling “I win, I win”, as I use all my might and main to support his knees and hips in extension so that we both don’t collapse to the floor - he is my angel.
Three year old Margarita, laughing for the first time since she started therapy, as I push her swing through the air, clap my hands and generally make a fool of myself – she is my angel.
Eleven year old Johnny, huffing and puffing on the treadmill, but telling me he can go ‘one more minute’ because he wants to pass his PE test this time - he is my angel.
Two year old Leslie, staggering on chubby legs eight feet across the room to stumble into her mother’s arms – walking independently for the first time – she is my angel.
My kids are angels, messengers from God, who bring good news. They bring me the good news that you don’t need to have an IQ over 120 to find joy in life. That you don’t need to be able to talk to share love. The good news that in the incarnation God himself accepted the limitations of a physical body, in which muscles, neurons and mucus membranes all have a part to play. The good news that a baby born two thousand years ago still cares about every baby born today, every child that I treat, and every holy broken person I encounter, whether in the Philippines, Pasadena or South LA.
The Shepherds Candle:
“When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one aonther, ‘Let us go into Bethlehem and see things thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.’ So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who woas lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child. And all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.”
The Shepherds candle reminds us that God made his good news known to, and through, the least likely of people….
Going to Food-for-Less in our neighborhood is always an adventure. In addition to the usual challenges of trying to feed four people regular meals that are cheap, quick and moderately tasty, there is the fact that grocers in urban poor areas seem to scorn anything that resembles healthy food. But the other part of the adventure is the people we encounter, especially in the parking lot…soliciting from shoppers is so common that my roommates and I regularly add a loaf a bread and jar of peanut butter to our shopping list, just in case we need something to give away.
Last weekend, however, Erika and I were in a hurry as we shopped, and forgot the extras. So when a slightly shabby looking man approached us as we loaded our groceries, I muttered under my breath “Oh, no, we forgot the peanut butter!”
We turned to greet the man anyway, and to my relief I saw he wasn’t just begging, but selling something. “Would you like to buy a Christmas card? Only one dollar each!” I reached to look at the cards, asking “who made these?” The question surprised him, so he replied “Let’s just say Santa Claus made them”.
I had to laugh at that, but as the cards were all in Spanish, I was considering how to politely say no, when Erika spoke up: “I’ll take two.” Two dollars and two cards were exchanged, and we went back to loading our groceries.
As we got into the car, I asked her what she was going to do with two singing Spanish Christmas cards. “Well, I was going to give them to our neighbors, but I should have gotten four”.
“That’s a great idea! Is he still here?” I asked. Looking around, we saw that our friend was making his way down the next row of cars. Quickly we drove his direction, rolled down the window and waved him over. “Can we have two more cards? But all we have is a five.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he said “I’ll give you the rest for five.” With a quick glance at Erika and a laugh, I made the exchange – five hard-earned dollars for seven unneeded singing Christmas cards. Laughing cheerfully the man waved us away, “Thank you so much, queen, thanks and have a Merry Christmas.” And in the car, we laughed too, for sometimes the good news shared through unexpected messengers; some of whom watch sheep at night, and others of whom sell cards in grocery store parking lots.
The Jesus Candle
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:14
As you celebrate the incarnation this Christmas, please remember and glorify God with me for the ways he has shown himself Emmanuel in South LA.
Merry Christmas and Love
Bethany Joy DeGray
Saturday, November 29, 2008
A devotional on John 15
I gave this devotional at the beginning of the month, for one of our Servant Partners assignments. The intended audience is my Servant Partners team, but I thought it would be good to share a little of what has been going on for me spiritually since the internship started...I just wish I could say I am truly living this way.
While we were in Manila, I felt a lot of confirmation in God’s calling on my life, a calling which will likely include living some place like Botocan. Edith and I kept saying to each other “I wish we could just stay”.
But of course, there were also a lot of fears of how we would really survive in the long run. I kept finding myself enumerating the practical changes I would need to stay longer: things like nailing boards over the rat-holes, having a bigger bucket in the bathroom and finding a husband who could kill cockroaches for me.
It wasn’t until debrief that I began to focus on the real question: what spiritually would need to change in my life for me to be sustainable in the long run.
And I think this question of sustainability applies not just to living in Manila or Cairo or Mumbai, but to living here in Los Angeles.
This month has been tough: trying to balance a 40 plus hour work week, time in community, studying Luke, team dynamics and homesickness. I have been much more in survival mode here than I ever was in the Philippines.
So the question of sustainability has become very urgent to me: I don’t just want to know how to survive and thrive in some future missions field. I desperately need to know how to do it now.
As I’ve wrestled with this question, I keep coming back to John 15. This is the chapter where Jesus compares himself to a vine, and us to branches. This time of year, I like to read it as a pumpkin vine, and we are the little branches trying to produce pumpkins. Jesus’ points out the obvious: the branches aren’t going to make any pumpkins unless they are connected to the vine. How could they, without any source for water, minerals, and energy. How on earth would a little branch produce a huge golden-orange pumpkin unless the vine was providing it everything it needs? If a branch was silly enough to try to produce a pumpkin without being connected to the vine, what would happen? Nothing. It would just lay there, rotten, brown and dead, maybe with a shriveled up flower molding at the end. It wouldn’t even be worth composting – just toss it in the fire.
So Jesus says “I am the vine; you are the branches. If anyone abides in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing”.
Of course I want to be a branch that bears abundant fruit. But so often I feel like the branch that is not connected to the vine, striving and striving to produce a molded flower.
In this passage there is one word that really jumps out to me as the key to sustainability. This key word is “abide”. Jesus repeats the word abide ten times in thirteen verses: “Abide in me, and I will abide in you…abide in me and my words abide in you…abide in my love…abide, abide, abide.”
To abide means to remain, to dwell, to belong, to live in and as a part of something. The branch abides in the vine by receiving all its sustenance from the vine and by producing fruit that glorifies the vine. The branch is completely dependent on the vine. In fact I suspect that most branches on a pumpkin plant don’t see themselves as separate entities at all – they are just part of the vine which is part of themselves.
Abiding in Jesus isn’t just about getting my needs provided for. Being sustained by him isn’t like getting a glass of water and a piece of bread from the kitchen. It is more like being an unborn baby – being bound by a pulsing umbilical cord to the one who not only supplies all me needs, but who surrounds me and comprises my whole universe.
This is certainly how I need to be sustained right now. There are too many challenges in my life to survive on stolen gaps of time ‘with God’, hastily crammed down my throat with my toast in the morning. I need an umbilical cord from God’s heart to mine, sustaining me throughout the day.
But I find myself still questioning: How? How do I abide in Jesus and allow him to sustain me this way? How do I re-identify myself as part of him, dwelling in him, completely dependent upon him?
Once again, I find myself trying to enumerating practical ways to make me abide better: things like getting up earlier so I can do more Bible study, seeking more accountability, memorizing scripture, or even cutting down my hours at work.
Yet none of these things, valuable as they may be, are how Jesus tells us to abide.
Jesus establishes our basis for abiding in his love for us. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you, now abide in my love” We can be confident in being sustained because the love Jesus has for us is the same infinitely powerful love that sustains the Trinity itself. And, as Jesus states a verse later, the Love we abide in is that love by which he that laid down his life for us.
From this foundation, Jesus immediately moves into exhortation, answering the question of ‘how’ to abide. He states it pretty simply: “If you obey my commands you will abide in my love.”
Edith already talked a lot about the relationship between obedience and our love for God. But here Jesus focuses on the relationship between obedience and our love for others. He doesn’t let us sit around wondering what commands we are to obey. He spells it out “my command is this: love one another as I have loved you”. So the way we abide is by obedience, and obedience ultimately means loving one another.
This a radical shift from my usual way of approaching sustainability. I tend to think of obedience, especially in the area of loving others, as the thing I need to be sustained for...not the thing by which I am sustained.
Certainly in the past few months as I have gotten to know you, I have prayed often to love you all. And have at times found that love growing like a healthy pumpkin, and at other times, found only moldy flowers.
But I am not sure I ever really realized how much a difference loving you all would make in my own sustainability. I didn’t realize that in cooking meals or cleaning the bathroom, in listening to your stories and sharing your laughter, or in praying for you as I drive back and forth to Pasadena, I could find the key to my own abiding.
Loving you all is truly impossible, but so is growing pumpkins. The little branch of the pumpkin vine isn’t seeking to do the impossible, it is simply participating in what the vine is all about. And in loving you I am participating in, abiding in, what Jesus is all about. In some ways, it is a circular argument – loving you all both draws me to and comes through abiding in Christ.
To be perfectly honest, I am still in the first steps of learning what this means. I am still in the flower stage of this pumpkin growing process. Jesus clearly states that loving you will involve laying down my life, and that is a challenging thought. But I am also very excited, because this sustainability is not something I have to change on my own, but something that together we will receive as we obey Christ’s command and love one another. Let us not fail to produce fruit, let us not fail to thrive here in Los Angeles, let us not be dead branches thrown into the fire, because we failed to love one another. Let us together cling to our sustainer and urgently ask him for the love we need. Let us love one another as he has loved us.
While we were in Manila, I felt a lot of confirmation in God’s calling on my life, a calling which will likely include living some place like Botocan. Edith and I kept saying to each other “I wish we could just stay”.
But of course, there were also a lot of fears of how we would really survive in the long run. I kept finding myself enumerating the practical changes I would need to stay longer: things like nailing boards over the rat-holes, having a bigger bucket in the bathroom and finding a husband who could kill cockroaches for me.
It wasn’t until debrief that I began to focus on the real question: what spiritually would need to change in my life for me to be sustainable in the long run.
And I think this question of sustainability applies not just to living in Manila or Cairo or Mumbai, but to living here in Los Angeles.
This month has been tough: trying to balance a 40 plus hour work week, time in community, studying Luke, team dynamics and homesickness. I have been much more in survival mode here than I ever was in the Philippines.
So the question of sustainability has become very urgent to me: I don’t just want to know how to survive and thrive in some future missions field. I desperately need to know how to do it now.
As I’ve wrestled with this question, I keep coming back to John 15. This is the chapter where Jesus compares himself to a vine, and us to branches. This time of year, I like to read it as a pumpkin vine, and we are the little branches trying to produce pumpkins. Jesus’ points out the obvious: the branches aren’t going to make any pumpkins unless they are connected to the vine. How could they, without any source for water, minerals, and energy. How on earth would a little branch produce a huge golden-orange pumpkin unless the vine was providing it everything it needs? If a branch was silly enough to try to produce a pumpkin without being connected to the vine, what would happen? Nothing. It would just lay there, rotten, brown and dead, maybe with a shriveled up flower molding at the end. It wouldn’t even be worth composting – just toss it in the fire.
So Jesus says “I am the vine; you are the branches. If anyone abides in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing”.
Of course I want to be a branch that bears abundant fruit. But so often I feel like the branch that is not connected to the vine, striving and striving to produce a molded flower.
In this passage there is one word that really jumps out to me as the key to sustainability. This key word is “abide”. Jesus repeats the word abide ten times in thirteen verses: “Abide in me, and I will abide in you…abide in me and my words abide in you…abide in my love…abide, abide, abide.”
To abide means to remain, to dwell, to belong, to live in and as a part of something. The branch abides in the vine by receiving all its sustenance from the vine and by producing fruit that glorifies the vine. The branch is completely dependent on the vine. In fact I suspect that most branches on a pumpkin plant don’t see themselves as separate entities at all – they are just part of the vine which is part of themselves.
Abiding in Jesus isn’t just about getting my needs provided for. Being sustained by him isn’t like getting a glass of water and a piece of bread from the kitchen. It is more like being an unborn baby – being bound by a pulsing umbilical cord to the one who not only supplies all me needs, but who surrounds me and comprises my whole universe.
This is certainly how I need to be sustained right now. There are too many challenges in my life to survive on stolen gaps of time ‘with God’, hastily crammed down my throat with my toast in the morning. I need an umbilical cord from God’s heart to mine, sustaining me throughout the day.
But I find myself still questioning: How? How do I abide in Jesus and allow him to sustain me this way? How do I re-identify myself as part of him, dwelling in him, completely dependent upon him?
Once again, I find myself trying to enumerating practical ways to make me abide better: things like getting up earlier so I can do more Bible study, seeking more accountability, memorizing scripture, or even cutting down my hours at work.
Yet none of these things, valuable as they may be, are how Jesus tells us to abide.
Jesus establishes our basis for abiding in his love for us. “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you, now abide in my love” We can be confident in being sustained because the love Jesus has for us is the same infinitely powerful love that sustains the Trinity itself. And, as Jesus states a verse later, the Love we abide in is that love by which he that laid down his life for us.
From this foundation, Jesus immediately moves into exhortation, answering the question of ‘how’ to abide. He states it pretty simply: “If you obey my commands you will abide in my love.”
Edith already talked a lot about the relationship between obedience and our love for God. But here Jesus focuses on the relationship between obedience and our love for others. He doesn’t let us sit around wondering what commands we are to obey. He spells it out “my command is this: love one another as I have loved you”. So the way we abide is by obedience, and obedience ultimately means loving one another.
This a radical shift from my usual way of approaching sustainability. I tend to think of obedience, especially in the area of loving others, as the thing I need to be sustained for...not the thing by which I am sustained.
Certainly in the past few months as I have gotten to know you, I have prayed often to love you all. And have at times found that love growing like a healthy pumpkin, and at other times, found only moldy flowers.
But I am not sure I ever really realized how much a difference loving you all would make in my own sustainability. I didn’t realize that in cooking meals or cleaning the bathroom, in listening to your stories and sharing your laughter, or in praying for you as I drive back and forth to Pasadena, I could find the key to my own abiding.
Loving you all is truly impossible, but so is growing pumpkins. The little branch of the pumpkin vine isn’t seeking to do the impossible, it is simply participating in what the vine is all about. And in loving you I am participating in, abiding in, what Jesus is all about. In some ways, it is a circular argument – loving you all both draws me to and comes through abiding in Christ.
To be perfectly honest, I am still in the first steps of learning what this means. I am still in the flower stage of this pumpkin growing process. Jesus clearly states that loving you will involve laying down my life, and that is a challenging thought. But I am also very excited, because this sustainability is not something I have to change on my own, but something that together we will receive as we obey Christ’s command and love one another. Let us not fail to produce fruit, let us not fail to thrive here in Los Angeles, let us not be dead branches thrown into the fire, because we failed to love one another. Let us together cling to our sustainer and urgently ask him for the love we need. Let us love one another as he has loved us.
A 'poem' reflection on Revelation 3:14-22
While we were in Manila, one of the pastors at the little local church we attended preached on Revelation 3. It seemed so pertinent to me at the time, that I spent a lot of time meditating on the passage. This is one of my meditations, in my haphazard 'poetry' style-
You are neither hot nor cold
you are lukewarm sludge
fermenting in the bottle
You do not provide refreshment
a cool, sweet fountain of joy
Nor healing
hot and strong with truth
You are disgusting
undrinkable
You turn my stomach upside down
until I, God, am ready to vomit
But you are not even aware of your disgusting state
This lukewarm status,
a product of entropy
the slow dilution of time
My ears are astonished at the words you say:
"I am rich; I have acquired wealth and DO NOT NEED A THING"
My jaw drops and my stomach roils.
So blatant the lie
you blithely cling to.
Sheltered in the walls of your malls, your Starbucks
your AC and TV.
This last self deception of a dying soul:
"I DO NOT NEED A THING"
Would you cling to your independence to the last gasp,
wrapped in the tea-cozy of wealth,
while hot and cold drain away,
through the holes in your soul?
Can't you see, can't you realize that you are:
wretched
pitiful
poor
blind
naked
Listen, listen to me -
Stop trying to wrap yourself in clothes that you weave
it is dream-cloth,
invisible,
Your shame is apparent before all the world,
and every wind pulls at the warmth of your blood.
Stop trying to salve your wounds with lotion you make
it is poison
numbing the sore place
to fill it with deadness and pus.
Look, look at me-
My hands are full to overflowing-
Go-
Sell all that you have and give it to the poor
and buy from me treasure that will last
Gold refined in fire - your impurities burned away by suffering
White clothes to wear and erase your shame
Salve for your eyes, so you can see me.
Don't you know, don't you know I love you?
That is why I rebuke and discipline you.
How I long for your earnest repentance!
I am standing here, banging on the door of your heart -
Look, listen, hear!
Come!
Let me in so that we may be community again-
me in you and you in me.
Than I will no longer call you servants but friends.
and you will sit with me and reign
Just as I sit with my Father and reign
Because we overcame.
You are neither hot nor cold
you are lukewarm sludge
fermenting in the bottle
You do not provide refreshment
a cool, sweet fountain of joy
Nor healing
hot and strong with truth
You are disgusting
undrinkable
You turn my stomach upside down
until I, God, am ready to vomit
But you are not even aware of your disgusting state
This lukewarm status,
a product of entropy
the slow dilution of time
My ears are astonished at the words you say:
"I am rich; I have acquired wealth and DO NOT NEED A THING"
My jaw drops and my stomach roils.
So blatant the lie
you blithely cling to.
Sheltered in the walls of your malls, your Starbucks
your AC and TV.
This last self deception of a dying soul:
"I DO NOT NEED A THING"
Would you cling to your independence to the last gasp,
wrapped in the tea-cozy of wealth,
while hot and cold drain away,
through the holes in your soul?
Can't you see, can't you realize that you are:
wretched
pitiful
poor
blind
naked
Listen, listen to me -
Stop trying to wrap yourself in clothes that you weave
it is dream-cloth,
invisible,
Your shame is apparent before all the world,
and every wind pulls at the warmth of your blood.
Stop trying to salve your wounds with lotion you make
it is poison
numbing the sore place
to fill it with deadness and pus.
Look, look at me-
My hands are full to overflowing-
Go-
Sell all that you have and give it to the poor
and buy from me treasure that will last
Gold refined in fire - your impurities burned away by suffering
White clothes to wear and erase your shame
Salve for your eyes, so you can see me.
Don't you know, don't you know I love you?
That is why I rebuke and discipline you.
How I long for your earnest repentance!
I am standing here, banging on the door of your heart -
Look, listen, hear!
Come!
Let me in so that we may be community again-
me in you and you in me.
Than I will no longer call you servants but friends.
and you will sit with me and reign
Just as I sit with my Father and reign
Because we overcame.
Reflections on Manila from my roommate
Dear friends
As I continue in the internship, I find myself often mentally returning to my time in Manila. However, I haven't yet written anything that really summarizes what that time meant for me, or what we experienced as a team.
To give a glimpse of that, I am posting a letter my roommate (both here and in Manila) wrote shortly after returning. My roommate's name is Edith, and here is her story:
A Journey of the Heart in Metro Manila
Eight-year old Jenny Paz sat on my lap and cried as I held her for one last time. She wouldn’t play one last competitive hand clapping game called “Bang”. She luckily didn’t have to go to school for the unfortunate reason that her parents couldn’t pay for that day. She had the whole day to say good-bye to us and she did smile for me. She knew that I loved her smile and laughs.
It was our last day in Manila, Philippines and probably the longest Thursday of our lives. Our 18-hour flight back to Los Angeles made our day seem 41 hours long. How do you say good-bye to a people you began to have a heart for and who left you changed forever?
That morning, after clearing the 8 by 8 by 12 foot apartment, made out of plyboards and broken pieces of wood, I sat at a corner looking out the view of Botocan squatter community from the window. As I stared across, I knew that I wouldn’t miss the cockroaches that crawled all night on our walls, the rats that passed along my sleeping bag from one wall to the next, fighting through the dark (because their lights were dimly lit) to get to the bathroom, or taking cold bucket showers. Sure wasn’t going to miss sleeping on the hard floor. But these people…this is their life. Apart from struggling financially, they live in fear that their homes will one day be demolished because their homes are built as illegal settlements. Sad but true, more than 1 billion people in the world live like this. I looked at my stuffed duffle bag and small bag, everything I took for a 3 week stay, and was reminded of the materialistic world. It was my last day and feeling small, I asked loudly, “God, give me strength coming from Your joy. Help me to spread it to those whom I will never see again.”
He answered. It was probably one of the most joyous days of all the days I had in Manila. I was happy to spend more time with the community; the ladies I’ve gotten to know in the alleys when they hand washed their clothes, the children that always ran to me when I walked down the road, and with my homestay family. I’ll never forget Ate Iris, a 28 year old mother, who stayed home taking care of her children Jimuel (8 years, Jopai (5 years), and Jeeanne (2 years), while her husband, Jim, worked as a painter and stayed home on rainy days. Oh it rained every day!
Daniel, who was a 3-month international intern for Servant Partners, was with us that day. We spent our last moments together playing Uno, Memory, and joking with each other. “So, what are you going to do with your destiny?” asked Ate Iris again with a jovial smile. I rolled my eyes and before I knew it, Daniel immediately grabbed a pillow and pushed her with it saying, “You read too many romantic novels!” We laughed and joked some more, until she shed tears again at my leaving.
Convinced, Ate Iris has a hunch for “destinies.” Two times she found Daniel wear the same brown shirt on the days I’ve wore a brown shirt, unintentionally. For her, Daniel is my destiny. For me, Daniel of the Bible is my hero. One night a cockroach walked on my arm and I became greatly frightened and as I prayed a story came back alive to my mind; of Daniel getting out of the lion’s den with no scratch on him and God was encouraging me that I won’t be touched again. But here, I saw something else being at work. As much as I wished I could have stayed longer and remain in the laid-back life of Botocan, I left with a renewed hope. Yes, I was coming into Servant Partners with a wounded heart. Yes, my heart was broken once and twice. But here, God was healing my heart. Renewing that joy again, with that smile I could look across the wide blue clear sky and know He took me where my heart needed to be.
I walked down the ally and heard Jenny Paz calling me, “Edith!” I turned around with a huge smile for her. She cried back, “I will never forget you!” I waved goodbye with a kiss. My heart sunk. I hope to see her in heaven. I pray she will grow to know Jesus Christ and taste God’s amazing Love for her that took me to meet millions of faces of the Earth…to her and to her people.
As I continue in the internship, I find myself often mentally returning to my time in Manila. However, I haven't yet written anything that really summarizes what that time meant for me, or what we experienced as a team.
To give a glimpse of that, I am posting a letter my roommate (both here and in Manila) wrote shortly after returning. My roommate's name is Edith, and here is her story:
A Journey of the Heart in Metro Manila
Eight-year old Jenny Paz sat on my lap and cried as I held her for one last time. She wouldn’t play one last competitive hand clapping game called “Bang”. She luckily didn’t have to go to school for the unfortunate reason that her parents couldn’t pay for that day. She had the whole day to say good-bye to us and she did smile for me. She knew that I loved her smile and laughs.
It was our last day in Manila, Philippines and probably the longest Thursday of our lives. Our 18-hour flight back to Los Angeles made our day seem 41 hours long. How do you say good-bye to a people you began to have a heart for and who left you changed forever?
That morning, after clearing the 8 by 8 by 12 foot apartment, made out of plyboards and broken pieces of wood, I sat at a corner looking out the view of Botocan squatter community from the window. As I stared across, I knew that I wouldn’t miss the cockroaches that crawled all night on our walls, the rats that passed along my sleeping bag from one wall to the next, fighting through the dark (because their lights were dimly lit) to get to the bathroom, or taking cold bucket showers. Sure wasn’t going to miss sleeping on the hard floor. But these people…this is their life. Apart from struggling financially, they live in fear that their homes will one day be demolished because their homes are built as illegal settlements. Sad but true, more than 1 billion people in the world live like this. I looked at my stuffed duffle bag and small bag, everything I took for a 3 week stay, and was reminded of the materialistic world. It was my last day and feeling small, I asked loudly, “God, give me strength coming from Your joy. Help me to spread it to those whom I will never see again.”
He answered. It was probably one of the most joyous days of all the days I had in Manila. I was happy to spend more time with the community; the ladies I’ve gotten to know in the alleys when they hand washed their clothes, the children that always ran to me when I walked down the road, and with my homestay family. I’ll never forget Ate Iris, a 28 year old mother, who stayed home taking care of her children Jimuel (8 years, Jopai (5 years), and Jeeanne (2 years), while her husband, Jim, worked as a painter and stayed home on rainy days. Oh it rained every day!
Daniel, who was a 3-month international intern for Servant Partners, was with us that day. We spent our last moments together playing Uno, Memory, and joking with each other. “So, what are you going to do with your destiny?” asked Ate Iris again with a jovial smile. I rolled my eyes and before I knew it, Daniel immediately grabbed a pillow and pushed her with it saying, “You read too many romantic novels!” We laughed and joked some more, until she shed tears again at my leaving.
Convinced, Ate Iris has a hunch for “destinies.” Two times she found Daniel wear the same brown shirt on the days I’ve wore a brown shirt, unintentionally. For her, Daniel is my destiny. For me, Daniel of the Bible is my hero. One night a cockroach walked on my arm and I became greatly frightened and as I prayed a story came back alive to my mind; of Daniel getting out of the lion’s den with no scratch on him and God was encouraging me that I won’t be touched again. But here, I saw something else being at work. As much as I wished I could have stayed longer and remain in the laid-back life of Botocan, I left with a renewed hope. Yes, I was coming into Servant Partners with a wounded heart. Yes, my heart was broken once and twice. But here, God was healing my heart. Renewing that joy again, with that smile I could look across the wide blue clear sky and know He took me where my heart needed to be.
I walked down the ally and heard Jenny Paz calling me, “Edith!” I turned around with a huge smile for her. She cried back, “I will never forget you!” I waved goodbye with a kiss. My heart sunk. I hope to see her in heaven. I pray she will grow to know Jesus Christ and taste God’s amazing Love for her that took me to meet millions of faces of the Earth…to her and to her people.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Second Letter from the Phillipines -
Dear family and friends
This is going to have to be brief, because I've spent most of my internet time reading ike updates. Thank you for the personal notes, especially from those of you who are also experiencing limited internet connections. I wish I could have been in Houston this week to help out with Ike recovery, and just to be with you all in these experiences. But it some ways, we have shared some experiences - all of us have been learning about living simply and how to trust God in unknown situations. But I hope you have not encountered any rats! Actually, I am getting used to the rats. Now I just wake up and clap my hands and sing a little if I hear them in the night. Somewhat annoying to my roommate, however! One suggestion I have for dealing with un-AC is baby powder. You can even buy baby-powder with special cooling ingredients.
Things have been going well here both in terms of team-bonding and community outreach. We had a rough day last Tuesday, with heat and emotionally intense experiences and general exhaustion, but we seem to be on a positive note as we move into our last few days. I've been thinking a lot about what working/living in a place like this for the long-run would look like. One conclusion I have come to is that a husband would be really nice! But that aside, I have a lot of new thoughts of what I need to pursue professionally and spiritually to be prepared for long-term in a poor urban community. I've been keeping a list of people I've seen in our community with overt physical disabilities or limitations, and it is getting long: untreated cleft palates, a child with a congenital lack of nose and eye anomolies, an amputee, a girl with severe scholiosis, a child with a significant burn from the cook-stove, a little boy with CP, and innumerable skin lesions and diseases. It makes me want to bring a team with some surgeons. One little thing you can pray for me is to have wisdom in is treating a nasty infected cut on one of the kids fingers. I have been trying various ointments and bandages on it for about a week now, and it is finally starting to look healthier, but much slower that I would have liked. Pray for me to know wether to keep messing with it or to leave it alone at this point.
Please also pray for peace in my heart as we prepare to go home. I think it would be easier if I was really going home, but LA is more of another mission field, in some ways harder than this one. And I would rather stay here. I just keep reminding myself that I have kids waiting for me. But it will be hard to leave the kids waiting for me on the street every morning and night. I wish I could send you all big hugs and a few kisses too. ...
I will be flying out Thurs at 8 this time, and getting around Thurs PM in california (many hours later) Still no internet at home, however, so I will send out a new update sometime on the weekend or Monday when I am a work. It is pouring rain outside and I've got like a mile to walk to get back home in Botacan. Fun.
Love and hugs Bethany Joy
Pictures: Top - my roommate (in the Philippines) and housemate (in LA) Edith and I on our roof
Bottom: Some of the street kids, including Jobar, who has a congenital nasal abnormality.
Letter from the Philippines - Sept 15th 2008
Dear family and friends
I hope this finds you all doing well and staying dry from various weather. Please forward this to anyone who would be interested. First of all, I love and miss you. Especially Ellie, because my 'host' family has a baby about her age. I keep wondering if she is doing the same things as Ellie. Someday I want to do missions with my family again. Especially with Dad to tell me to take the adventure that comes.
Things have not been too adventureous here, except an excessive number of rats at night. Last night one woke me up as it was trying to carry a plastic trash-bag through our bedroom. I yelled at it in Tagolag before turning on the light, so all I saw was a strange trash bag in the corner of the room, but I know the culprit. Please pray for my roommate and I to sleep peacefully.
Been meditating a lot on what it means to have my heart break for the people around me and to love until it hurts on such a short trip. I am bonding, but it is scary, because we are leaving so soon. I wish I could stay for six months - tired of the short-termness of my life. Someday... Also been meditating on John 15 with relation to our team and bonding. We are doing well, but still really in the beginning stages of becoming sustainable community. Some beautiful steps in the process though. Pray for my teammates, who seem to be struggling more ( and me as well) with the day-in-outness of living in a squatter community. And pray for us to really be able to impact this community for Christ, even in this short time. Pray for ability to transcend language and cultural barriers and show God's love. I am praying for all of you, especially those effected by the storm (Ike)...
Love and hugs.
Bethany Joy
Pictures: Top - Playing slap jack with Jacob, one of the local kids
Bottom- The view from the roof of my 'apartment'.
I hope this finds you all doing well and staying dry from various weather. Please forward this to anyone who would be interested. First of all, I love and miss you. Especially Ellie, because my 'host' family has a baby about her age. I keep wondering if she is doing the same things as Ellie. Someday I want to do missions with my family again. Especially with Dad to tell me to take the adventure that comes.
Things have not been too adventureous here, except an excessive number of rats at night. Last night one woke me up as it was trying to carry a plastic trash-bag through our bedroom. I yelled at it in Tagolag before turning on the light, so all I saw was a strange trash bag in the corner of the room, but I know the culprit. Please pray for my roommate and I to sleep peacefully.
Been meditating a lot on what it means to have my heart break for the people around me and to love until it hurts on such a short trip. I am bonding, but it is scary, because we are leaving so soon. I wish I could stay for six months - tired of the short-termness of my life. Someday... Also been meditating on John 15 with relation to our team and bonding. We are doing well, but still really in the beginning stages of becoming sustainable community. Some beautiful steps in the process though. Pray for my teammates, who seem to be struggling more ( and me as well) with the day-in-outness of living in a squatter community. And pray for us to really be able to impact this community for Christ, even in this short time. Pray for ability to transcend language and cultural barriers and show God's love. I am praying for all of you, especially those effected by the storm (Ike)...
Love and hugs.
Bethany Joy
Pictures: Top - Playing slap jack with Jacob, one of the local kids
Bottom- The view from the roof of my 'apartment'.
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