On Singapore

Signage on the Singapore Mass Rapid Transit Trains- Nov 2009

How does one compare Singapore and Kuala Lumpur?

They are sibling cities (technically Singapore is a microstate) in S.E. Asia that have more than their fair share of similarities in terms of history, culture, demographics, climate, and of course food. Still, while they bear more than a passing resemblance to one another there are significant differences between the two.

How to summarize those differences? I'll let their own signage do the talking. Compare the signs (above) on Singapore's MRT train with those on KL's LRT and you'll see what I'm talking about. The differences couldn't be more obvious.

Where one is efficient, polite, and uses internationally recognized symbols the other is 'unexpected,' just as effective, and full or more local 'character.'

For those whose frame of reference is oriented to the upper Midwest, the distinction between Minnesota's Twin Cities is another apt metaphor. While not necessarily designed by a drunken Irishman, the controlled-chaos of KL is the Saint Paul to straight-laced Singapore's Minneapolis.

Given my personal geography and predilection for the Eastern Twin Cityover the other, here on the Malaysian Peninsula I indeed wound up in the right town.

Okay. Enough with the glib comparisons. On with the pictures!

Just click here or look for the album on the right.

In Their Own Words

'Mission in the LCMS' - presented at Luther Centre's opening ceremony in August, this video gives a short history of the Lutheran Church in Malaysia and Singapore.

It is inspiring to see the growth of the Church here. From a largely Western led effort you can see it grow into a locally led body. Even more striking to me is the tone and high level of regard folks here have for Missionaries past and present.

Coming from a post-modern culture where the 'M-word' often raises the eyebrow of suspicion, hearing this alternate voice was both revelatory and refreshing.

Aren't We Courteous?

Signs On My Daily Commute - Nov 2009

The signs are pretty hard to avoid, plastered as they are on seemingly every-other LRT window.

Whereas some mass transit systems will simply label seats as being 'reserved for those with special needs,' here in KL they specify exactly who qualifies as special: namely, Senior Citizens, Pregnant Ladies, and the Disabled.

How courteous indeed!

As if that wasn't courteous enough, they even provide useful illustrations for all:

Courteous? Perhaps. Sensitive In Our Caricatures? Not So Much - Nov 2009

Fruiting Season

From 20 October

Pastor Timah in the Cameron Highlands - Oct 2009

Durian. The word alone is enough to make mouths water (if not outright drool) with anticipation here.

Durian. The King of the Fruits. It announces its presence with an intoxicatingly rapturous scent that is vaguely reminiscent of damp garbage and rot, an odor so pungent and persistent that it is banned in hotels, most forms of public transport, and the homes of those with the least bit of common sense.

When it is ripe and ready to be harvested, it detaches itself from the tree branches on which it grows and drops to the ground - a large, heavy, spike covered projectile of deliciousness and doom hurtling toward terra firma from many meters up. Pity the fool who sits under a durian tree during fruiting season.

Durian. Gathered from highland rain forests and sold at roadside stands and city markets, it is a natural treasure of Malaysia.

And it was to this odoriferous delight that Pastor Timah, a guest preacher at Luther House Chapel, compared her people - the original/indigenous people (orang asli in Malay) - during her sermon on a recent Sunday.

She spoke of seeds being sown on the the good soil of the Cameron Highlands and her people's villages there. She shared with us her encounter with 'foreign' missionaries, Chinese Christians from Malaysian cities and towns whose own faith had recently been tended to and cultivated by the Spirit working through orang putih from America. She expressed, on behalf of the congregations she serves, gratitude and thanksgiving for the ongoing missionary activity of the Lutheran Church in Malaysia and Singapore.

In her stories, in her witness, and in her person - as one of the first orang asli to be ordained - she made manifest in both word and deed the undeniable fact that, among her people, now is the fruiting season. Seeds that had been planted have sprouted. From tender saplings they have grown to become mighty fruit-bearing trees; rising up to the canopies of the highland forests, their precious fruits ripening even as we speak.

Congregations of the faith-filled are organizing all throughout the mission zone. Dropping into isolated villages marred by poverty, alcoholism, and the anomie that comes with existing on the margins of modern Malaysia, these new churches there are reshaping the landscape around them through the provision of basic social services, the songs of children, and the sharing of Water, Bread, and Word. They carry with them an unmistakably heavenly scent, a lingering fragrance of grace, of hope, of love, and of new life.

This is one of the leading edges of Mission in 21st Century Malaysia.

Among the Orang Asli

Sights, sounds, and songs from visits to churches in Malaysia's Cameron Highlands.

Planted by local Chinese-Malaysian missionaries working among the 'orang asli' or 'original people' here, these congregations have become fruitful and are multiplying.

Where Are The Passengers?

From 16 October

Classy Taxi in Ipoh - Oct 2009

"It is like this," explained one of the ELCA's big potatoes (not the big potato but one of the big ones) here on a recent visit, "in the past it was missionaries from America who were leading and guiding the church here. Now it is you. It is as if we were driving the car and you were the passengers. Now our positions are switched. YOU are driving the car and WE are the passengers."

A hand shot up from among the clergy gathered for this forum on the ELCA and Global Mission. With it came a question, well, more of a comment really.

"It is true, we may in fact be the drivers now but we look around our church and our country and wonder where are you? where are our passengers? are you even in the car?"

The comment, more of a critique in all honesty, clearly came with baggage attached. See, just a couple decades ago (well within living memory) the Malaysian peninsula was teeming with American missionaries: pastors, teachers, and doctors all here to faithfully do their part. Now, however, due to a variety of reasons both in country and back in the states, the pool of Americans physically present in Malaysia has shrunk to a handful of Young Adults, a Regional Rep to S.E. Asia, and a Pastoral Intern.

The response to the question/comment/critique came next, wrapped in phrases like 'local leadership,' 'capacity building,' 'budget shortfalls,' and a 'reallocation of resources from deployed personnel to indigenous initiatives and programs.' It really was an honest, clear and concise depiction of the current joys, challenges, and guiding philosophies of a national church body engaged in Global Mission in the 21st Century.

The catch, however, is that I'm not so sure it addressed the central concern raised by the question/comment/critique.

What I heard buried in the comment was an expressed desire for relationship, for international fellowship and cross-cultural companionship. Programs and funding are all well and good, but where are the people? Mind you this request for people is not a wistful desire to return to the past. Rather it is an acknowledgment that amazing ministry is being done by the Malaysian church and that ministry begs to be seen, shared, and experienced in the flesh . . . not just submitted in reports to Higgins Road or mentioned as an aside in an occasional newsletter or random blog post.

The critique and response reveal that the analogy of car/driver/passenger needs to be overhauled slightly to be serviceable. In our necessary and vital shifting of resources to focus on capacity building and providing financial support for programs and scholarships at the national level are we really in the car? or are we there as supporters, staying back home and chipping in gas money as needed?

This observation is made not to denigrate that work but to suggest that it is different from truly being a passenger, physically being seated shoulder-to-shoulder, Malaysians and Americans, experiencing together the twists and turns of the journey. . . bonding through the sharing of stories, laughter, and (mis)adventures that mark any good road trip.

I suppose the whole exchange struck a nerve with me because I had just spent a week literally being a passenger in a car that was driven, you guessed it, by local church leaders. I was there accompanying members of a German congregation who came here to see first-hand the work being done by the Malaysian church and to lay the foundation for long term companion congregation relationships between churches in both countries..

The Germans' endeavor struck me as being similar to the initial steps taken to pair congregations in the Saint Paul Area Synod and parishes in the Iringa Diocese of central Tanzania twenty years ago. The dynamic impact that the Bega Kwa Bega companion synod relationship has had for them on both sides of the Atlantic, gives me hope for the covenant relationship being forged between Lauf and Bangsar.

At the same time, the question/comment/critique raised by a local leader here, " . . . but where are YOU?" pains me. The disconnect it points to saddens me. Ultimately it makes me wonder in what way(s) we, as an American church, might respond. . .

Sure, we have national-level program officers, diplomats, and the requisite number of bureaucrats but where, I wonder, are the companions, informal friendships, and long-lasting relationships? What are the stumbling blocks and obstacles in our way? How can we work collaboratively through congregations, synods, and the churchwide office (our 'three expressions' of the church) to address the expressed need of our partners here - a desire to host us, to show us their country and their church, and to share with us that which they too have seen and heard?

These are some of the questions that keep me awake at night . . .

Having set them out, I'll step off my soapbox.

Snapshots from the Road

Kuala Lumpur Skyline - Oct 2009

From the city to the serenity of the Cameron Highlands, the last couple weeks have been an overload of experiences, sights, smells and especially tastes.

As part of my broader introduction to the country I was able to travel with a group of Germans from a church in the village of Lauf to the historic port city of Malacca, a gateway for the likes of St. Francis Xavier and other early missionaries to the Far East, and up to the temperate climate and tea covered hillsides of the Cameron Highlands.

Closer to home, with the Luther House crew, I've been able to participate in a medical mission trip to the Orang Asli (more on them later), light lanterns during the annual Chinese Mooncake festival, help test out a car's performance on the road to Genting, and continue my tour of the town's many great places to eat.

While there are plenty of words and stories to share, I'll let the images do the talking. To see what I've been up to lately, click on the freshly-updated Malaysia photo album on the right - or just click here.

A Widow's Might

From 2 Oct

United in the Passing - Oct 2009

The naked fluorescent tubes hanging from the ceiling here - as they do seemingly everywhere - cast an otherworldly glow on the evening's proceedings. Underneath them, a sea of plastic chairs is slowly filled by arriving guests.

Before they sit, the guests stop by a small side-table where they are welcomed and watched over by members of the church. There they deposit donations in a box, record their name and the amount given in a ledger (accurate records are of utmost importance), and receive a small packet of sweets before proceeding to their seats.

At the front of this gathering space is a photo in a frame surrounded by yellow plastic flowers. The woman in the photo, Mrs. Chang - a pillar of a local congregation who's name has been changed here out of a concern for respectful anonymity - looks out with with eyes that exude a certain quiet strength and confidence.

Behind the faux-flower covered stand and her picture lies her casket.

That morning, after 84 years,

as she was being dressed and readied to go to church,

Mrs. Chang had breathed her final breath.

What struck me most about this scene was the multitude of people moved by the wake of this diminutive woman's passing. Indeed rows of chairs were added as the number of those gathered in remembrance swelled beyond what had been estimated for this widow who had spent the majority of her life living alone - having lost her husband and only daughter many years ago.

From individual stories and collective remembering, a picture of a humble woman and deep faith began to emerge. Whether it was in her regular polishing of the brass candlesticks, constant presence in the old church compound, or financial contributions, she was a woman who, as the pastor observed, not unlike the widow in Mark and Luke, truly gave everything she had to the God in whom she believed and the community of faith that had truly become her family.

In her passing too, many observed, she gave a final gift. Sitting there, shoulder to shoulder under the blue-glow of the fluorescent light, two halves of a congregation that in recent years had split were united as one -momentarily- in the act of remembering their beloved daughter, sister, and friend.

It was a moment of grace and a sight to behold.

Work Zone

From 1 Oct

Soon-to-be-Sanctuary - Oct 2009

All these buildings and mountains,
Slowly they'll arise
Before our eyes.

How do cities understand?
We drink our wine, and wonder why we're really here. . .

-From the song 'Buildings and Mountains' by the Republic Tigers

Three congregations. Three different building campaigns.

There was the mega-church outgrowing its physical space.

Then the inner-city church and its crumbling infrastructure.

Now, the historic church and its forced relocation.

Building, it would seem, goes hand in hand with ministry.

Several months ago, the people of Luther House successfully obtained access to a piece of property (no small feat in a country where officials can, at times, be 'reluctant' to assist those from ethnic/religious minorities) and have set about turning this former film production facility into a place of worship, fellowship, and learning.

While raising funds and collecting tenders/bids for renovating the space, Sunday mornings have been filled to overflowing as members meet in what will be the upstairs fellowship space and spill over into the adjacent office and down the hallway to the toilet. Nearly every vacant seat is filled.

Now construction has started in the basement, an unfinished screening room with jagged holes in the concrete floor. The hope is that by Christmas this space will be completed and a new worship space capable of seating nearly two hundred people will be ready to receive the congregation.

In the midst of all of this work it occurs to me that the pastoral function here, besides providing some cursory oversight to the construction process, is to build up the the community of people that will occupy the physical space. They, not the structure they left behind nor the structure they are moving into, are the Church.

As we transition from being a wandering people to being a settled one once again, as we wipe up the dust and tend to the wounds caused by renovation and relocation, we must not lose sight of the fact that our identity extends beyond the concrete walls surrounding us and that the mission in which we participate demands that we step out from the sanctuary we are creating.

Growing by the Margins

From 24 Sep

MMP Seminar: 'Winning By Love, Leading By Example' - Sep 2009

"What is so funny here is that this policeman . . . he is also our caterer."

This coming after one of Malaysia's finest pulled into camp in a little red Proton full of nasi,ikan, and ayam.

While the food was carried from car to table the eyes of the sixty or so Nepalese men present darted from badge to ground to one another. As migrant workers in a foreign land, some of whom were present with a questionable visa status, these men were all too familiar with the temperamental whims of government officials. In a country ruled with an iron fist, many have had encounters with individuals in power far less charitable or gracious than our cop turned caterer. . .

As for him, after depositing the food and puffing on a cigarette, he and his Proton went puttering back to the kampung and off into the night without a moment's pause.

The Migrant Ministry Partnership (MMP) is a joint effort sponsored by local Lutheran, Baptist, and Brethren congregations. Their work has two main areas of focus. First, they provide social services and advocacy for migrants and immigrants (primarily from Nepal) who now live and work in the greater Klang Valley, assisting them with classes, training, fellowship opportunities, and legal advice.

Given the way in which these young men (they are almost always young and almost always men) are at times used and discarded by the Malaysian economic engines and service industries, invited into the country and then left hanging in legal limbo as employers fail or refuse to file the necessary paperwork for visas and work permits, this is a life-giving ministry to an incredibly vulnerable population.

Secondly, and they might say more importantly, the MMP functions as a vehicle for evangelism and bringing the gospel to peoples and populations far beyond the national borders of Malaysia. While participation in Christian worship is not compulsory for those receiving assistance, many are curious about the faith that inspires such acts of love and in following that line of inquiry find their lives to be transformed.

As one leader of the organization told me, himself a student from Nepal, "Hindu strangers come to this predominantly Muslim land and in the process find Christ is there for them. This is a true 21st Century Miracle."

Using KL's location as one of the crossroads of Asia, a handful of local congregations are having a direct impact on the expansion of the Church all throughout the region. As these young men return to their countries of origin, they become evangelists in their own lands - places like Nepal and Myanmar that are all but closed to outside missionaries.

While in doing so they face many challenges, not the least of which is the reaction of their own families, if the increasing number of students coming from those countries to pursue theological training in Malaysia is any indicator, they are certainly part of a growing Christian community.

+++

Thinking about folks back at home in the states, I'm wondering what lessons we might be able to learn from our partners here in SouthEast Asia. Where do our interests align and what opportunities exist for mutual collaboration in this expressing of faith through both deed and word? What of the strangers in our own midst? How might the earth be reformed if we sought out and attended to the migrants and immigrants on the margins of our own society?