.: NEW SPECS :.

A Christmas Witness

2012-01-01T21:12:00.001-06:00

From 26 December

A Christmas Carol in Sandakan - Dec 2011

A votive candle was burning brightly near the entrance to the house next door, its flickering light dancing across the carved red and gold surface of the family shrine. Children's faces were pressed against the security grill, trying to get a look at the visiting group of strangers visiting their neighbor. The scent of joss sticks and incense lingered faintly in the night air.

Dressed semi-formally in dark pants, white shirts, and ties, we arrived in a small convoy of vehicles. With (almost) military precision, we entered our host's compound and took up formation. With the strum of a guitar and a "1-2-3 . . ." we began to sing.

This is how the BCCM-Sandakan English congregation goes a-caroling. Over the course of three nights in mid-December, the homes of nearly sixty of church members, friends, and neighbors all across the city are visited. To accomplish this remarkable feat, the carolers are split into two teams of 15-20 people making about ten house-calls each night.

At each stop, the carolers sing of Angels and Shepherds and of a Savior born Away in a Manger and prayers are spoken for the family and its members. At each house the carolers are received hospitably - sometimes with a handshake and a smile, sometimes with a veritable feast.

In each of these acts, public expressions of Christian Faith and Hope and Love are shared with one another and with the neighbors who, like the children next door, press their face to the grill yearning to hear more.

This is no accident.

In a country where Christians make up less than 10% of the national population, their voice is often hard to hear in the midst of Malaysia's multi-lingual, multi-religious, and multi-racial national dialogue.

As the celebration of Christmas captures the nation's imagination, Church leaders here understand the holiday as an opportunity to share the Good News with those who have not yet seen and have not yet heard it - those who stand just beyond the proverbial gate.

In Sabah, especially, it is a message one sees in displays like the Gaya Street Christmas Celebration, one hears in Christmas Eve sermons and one sings about in the city streets.

For many in the U.S., myself included, Christmas is celebrated 'privately' with extended family, close friends, and returning home for the holidays. For our brothers and sisters in places like East Malaysia, it is a very 'public' affair - an opportunity for the Christian Community to step into the spotlight and for the Gospel to shine.

And shine it does in ways that are bright and colourful and beautiful and bold.

Dissonant Images

2011-12-16T02:31:00.001-06:00

At the Nativity Hut: A Mixed Crowd Gathers - Dec 2011

On Monday night my apartment was rocked by fireworks.

If you've been following news feeds coming from Malaysia over the past couple weeks you'll have noticed an increase in national anxiety levels - or, at the very least, at least an increase in reporting about national anxiety levels.

There's been the Peaceful Assembly Bill that would clamp down on protests and other public gatherings; the ongoing 'trial' of opposition leader Anwar Ibrahim; unresolved tensions around the use of the word Allah, fears of 'Christianization' and the JAIS raid on Damansara Utama Methodist Church; reports of difficulties churches face organizing Christmas Caroling excursions; and, on Wednesday, a report in the New York Times that reads 'For Malaysian Christians An Anxious Holiday Season.'

Each of these issues, in its own right, is potent. Put together, they are (potentially) highly combustible. And yet these were not the fireworks that I heard . . .

No. What I heard in my living room and saw out my kitchen window were really for real fireworks. The kind that are launched from the ground and explode in the sky to the collective sound of "Ooooooh!" and "Aaaaaah!"

The city of Kota Kinabalu was having a celebration.

At the bottom of the hill from Sabah Theological Seminary, not even a ten minute walk from where I live, the square beside city hall has been turned into Christmas Central. To one side is a tent and a stage where local churches and celebrities can perform Christmas Songs that are more often sacred than secular. To the other, several blocks of Gaya Street (the main shopping street) have been closed to traffic and turned into a holiday bazaar for congregations, youth groups, and non-profits to raise funds by selling holiday treats, gifts, and games while more groups of carolers perform songs (and dances!) at major intersections.

In the middle of it all, cloaked by occasional blasts of faux-snow, stands a high-tech light up Christmas tree. In front of that the 'Nativity Hut' is the center of attention with its life sized Holy Family mannequins and concrete camels. On either side of the hut the story of the Nativity is posted on large placards, one in English and the other in Malay. The crowd that filters past nightly, snapping photos and playing in the snow, is made up of the mixture of races, religions, ethnicities, and creeds that makes this country so fascinatingly complex.

The living image before my eyes and the one painted by words on newsprint stand in stark contrast to one another.

Certainly part of the disconnect lies in the differences between the Western and Eastern halves of the country. Where the lines of religion and ethnicity form distinct barriers in one, they are most definitely more blurred in the other. In many ways, Malaysia feels like two very different nations - a distinction made all the more clear by the Gaya Street Christmas Celebration.

The dissonant visions of Christmas also highlight what Chimamanda Adichie has described as "the danger of a single story."

As the newspaper articles highlight, the dominant story being told of Malaysia internally and externally is one of increasing division and tension. The narrative is one of simple, binary relationships (Ruling Party vs. the Opposition, Muslim vs. Christian, East vs. West, etc) that are easy to digest, that reinforce biases, and that set people apart.

Reality is much more complex.

While it doesn't change the macro-issues and challenges facing the country as a whole, the witness of the Gaya Street Christmas Celebration offers a counter-narrative and paints a picture of the world not only 'as-it-could-be' but also 'as-it-is' - a place in which men and women of all backgrounds and faiths freely mix and openly share in each others festivities.

True to form, the appearance of the Christ Child in Kota Kinabalu (a plastic mannequin though He may be) inspires a story of light, of unity, and of hope in the midst of the darkness. It is a story that barely makes the headlines these days but is one, I pray, that can make a world of difference.

Adventureland

2011-11-12T00:03:00.000-06:00

Pieces of Family, Pieces of History - Oct 2011 [From my Cousin Kelley]

The Indiana Jones Adventure changed my life.

At 26 years old I entered Disneyland slightly jaded about the supposed 'magic' of the place - scoffing at the overt commercialization of an utterly manufactured Main Street U.S.A.

Those sentiments of superiority were squashed by Indy and our trip through the Temple of the Forbidden Eye. Whether it was looking into "Mara's Eyes," encounters with fireballs, snakes, poison darts, and a giant boulder, or the fun of screaming beside good friends, the fact of the matter is that I left that ride and entered back into the park a different person.

Instantly I was a kid again and saw the world as full of possibility. I was geeking out in Adventureland.

True, the claim that a theme park ride (as impressive as it still is) changed my life is a bit of an overstatement. More accurately, the experience stirred up something deep. It tapped into core narratives, values, and memories that have shaped, and continue to shape, my world view.

On the surface it was an immediate reminder of Sunday nights spent watching the Wonderful World of Disney, snuggled up next to my mother and my brother , completely wrapped up in both a scratchy afghan blanket and tales of the Swiss Family Robinson, Captain Nemo's voyages beneath the sea, and the pirates of Treasure Island.

It brought me back to hot summer nights stretched out on the worn green carpet of my grandparents' living room. I can still smell the air, thick with Wisconsin humidity and the distinct scent of dust burning off the lamp of the slide projector. I can hear echoes of the the mechanical click of the advancing carousel interrupting the quiet hum of the fan as images of their travels to Egypt, Europe, Turkey, and China progressed across the screen.

The thrill ride resonated with those stories and formative moments with my family and I was filled with wonder.

These days, some six years later, when the sun rises it does so over a landscape filled with a completely different kind of 'magic'. The mountains off in the distance, Mt. Kinabalu and the peaks of the Crocker Range, are not made of steel and sculpted concrete but of granite thrust up from the earth's crust. The forest that surrounds me in the heart of Kota Kinabalu is not carefully managed to evoke a tropical locale; it is the real deal and the fauna that fills it is decidedly not animatronic.

Surveying this scene from my balcony every morning, I realize that I'm in the landscape of my boyhood dreams. Sometimes I'm forced to pause and to ponder how this came to be. How did a kid from Waukesha wind up in a real life adventureland?

The spin on the Indy ride holds part of the answer. My life has been shaped by the family that has surrounded me and the stories that have filled me. While 'Malaysian Borneo' and 'Sabah' are phrases I've only learned in recent years, the word adventure, whispered in my ear and from my lips, has been with me for quite a while.

Back in Wisconsin this past month my dad and his brothers had to help my grandparents move from the house that they have called home for longer than I have been alive. By the time I return home in April, that place of formative memories and stories will have been passed on to other hands.

While the good China and Silver have already been dispersed, what caught my eye were two beaten and battered steamer trunks. Affixed to their sides were labels marking their passage from Copenhagen to Stockholm and onward to New York and Ellis Island as they accompanied my Great-Grandfather and Great-Grandmother across the ocean and a thousand miles inland to Racine where the young Harrits family settled in a landscape far removed their own homesteads in Denmark.

With their surfaces marred by the toils of passage by land and by sea, the trunks tell their own tale of travel and bear witness to the adventurers and globe-trotters who preceded me. They lead me to wonder whether this impulse to wander is encoded in my DNA, woven into the fiber of my being generations ago. . .

Ordination: Re-Entry & Re-Orientation

2011-06-15T07:06:00.003-05:00

From 20-22 May

Ordination and Commissioning - May 2011

At half-past eight on the morning of Friday, May 20 the Opening Worship of the Saint Paul Area Synod's annual Assembly began. Accompanied by a mixture of Nordic, Latin, and African music, the processional cross entered the sanctuary at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Burnsville, MN in a celebration of the multi-cultural diversity promised to and expressed by worldwide community that composes the Body of Christ.

Nearly 45-minutes later, surrounded by family, friends, colleagues, and the gathered community I was ordained to the ministry of Word and Sacrament in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and Commissioned to serve as the Country Coordinator for their Young Adults in Global Mission program in East Malaysia.

Little more than thirty hours earlier I had been standing on the streets of Shanghai.

This logistical technicality had been a cause for concern among the Bishop's staff members who kept tabs on my flights from PVG to JFK to MSP and, so I've been told, shouted with joy when they received the text message that read 'Arrived Safely.'

From here on out, the story of my two weeks in China with the and that of my Ordination and Commissioning will be forever linked.

Admittedly, in part this is linkage is reflective of the absurdity of the situation as well as its globe-hopping scope; put together the two events do form a pretty epic tale.

Of greater significance, however, is the change in orientation that the pairing of the two events symbolizes. Kneeling there, with the weight of a new stole upon my shoulders (hand-stitched by Hmong Immigrants in the Twin Cities) and the dust of China still on my shoes, I was cognizant of the change in direction underway.

I had entered the sanctuary surrounded by colleagues, friends, and peers who had supported me and traveled with me through East Africa and in my formation as a leader. I left the sanctuary, received by and bound for Southeast Asia.

My penultimate experience at Yale Divinity School (there is still the matter of that pesky thesis) has further stirred up my intellectual interest in the Church as it is expressed in China and its relationship with Christianity elsewhere in Asia. Having that newly kindled curiosity paired with a fresh call and commissioning to serve in that region is more than a little humbling. Imagining where this newly opened path of reflection and practice might lead is also, admittedly, more than a little thrilling.

The China Connection[s]

2011-06-15T06:56:00.003-05:00

From 15 May

Yangtze Crossing - May 2011

Crossing the Yangtze river near Nanjing on this idle Sunday afternoon, two lanes of river traffic stretched as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of boats, from ocean worthy cargo-ships to smaller runabouts, could be seen streaming up and down this liquid superhighway, connecting the agricultural and manufacturing centers of inland China with the appetites and markets of the wider global community.

It truly was a sight to behold, not necessarily 'pretty' in conventional terms but powerful in the way that it gave physical form to the processes of globalization that are reshaping and reconfiguring the world in which we live.

In the muddy waters being churned by the giant engines of the freight-carriers one could plainly see the brute force that is necessary to forge and maintain these global linkages and yet is often obscured in the glossy signage and sparkling windows of the Starbucks and Apple Stores on the shopping streets of Shanghai, New York, and countless cities in-between.

When paired with the construction cranes that seem to hover over every city in China (or at least every city we visited), the sense of dynamism and of growth is increased. This is a country that is on the move, expanding and opening.

Whether this is a new phenomenon or, as the splendor of the Forbidden City/Palace Museum or the voyages of Cheng Ho/Zheng He might suggest, an act of reclaiming and restoring the past, the increasingly pivotal role of China in the global exchange of trade, peoples, and cultures is hard to ignore.

As I consider my own upcoming relocation to East Malaysia, I'm increasingly aware of the connections to China that surround me:

• Abstractly, the trade routes from places like the Port of Nanjing that cut through the South China Sea and the Straits of Malacca to destinations in India, the Middle East, Africa, and Europe and the sharing of culture and cuisine, commerce and concepts that accompanies such movements.

• More immediately, the Basel Christian Church of Malaysia has its own ancestry that tracing back to missionary activity among Hakka speaking Chinese in Guangdong and Hong Kong in the 1840's and their subsequent emigration to British North Borneo in the 1880's as workers in Britain's colonial expansion.

• Likewise, the Lutheran Church in Malaysia and Singapore in which I served last year was composed primarily of Chinese-Malaysians and was planted by American missionaries who had been forced to leave China in the midst of revolutions and the expulsion of foreigners.

With all of this activity and interconnectivity, both historic and present, there is a growing urge to learn more about China. No longer afforded the naivete that comes with distance, there is a clear and present need to learn more about this global neighbor of ours - not out of worry or fear, but out of a sincere desire for better understanding.

Country Church

2011-06-04T09:45:00.000-05:00

From 15 May

Rural Church Near Nanjing - May 2011

Clambering off the bus along a highway, just outside the city of Nanjing, we made our way toward the steeple rising above the agricultural land around us.

Nearing the church compound, we were greeted as guests by the choir with singing and the clapping of hands. We were welcomed in by a parish elder and were offered an abundant meal of local specialties - dumplings, duck tongue, and a goose/swan meat dish (the translation on that last one wasn't really that clear).

Where the formality, professionalism, and high-tech efficiency of our Sunday at Haidian Christian Church were reminiscent of what one would find in any number of larger urban or suburban protestant or evangelical congregations in the United States, the songs, the food, the hospitality and generosity offered to us on this Sunday instantly brought to mind my experiences visiting rural preaching points in Tanzania, albeit in a decidedly Chinese key and with decidedly Chinese flavor.

While comparing the Haidian church in Beijing with this semi-rural congregation in Jiangsu province is about as helpful and fair as comparing St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City with St. Ladislaus Catholic Parish in Bevent, WI, attending worship services in both settings was helpful in understanding the diversity found within the CCC. Especially in terms of music, the little bit that we heard in Nanjing, like the song selections we heard at the Bible College in Inner-Mongolia, had a more indigenized and localized sound to it than the primarily Western hymnody that was sung at Haidian Christian Church.

Where worship in Haidian, by necessity given the number of worshippers and services, was a tightly choreographed affair, on this Sunday outside of Nanjing it felt decidedly more laissez-faire: choir practice seemed to blend right into praise and worship singing which, in turn, slowly gave way to more recognizable liturgical practices and worship forms. As in Tanzania, for many in the congregation, I imagine worship and duties at Church on any given Sunday make for an all day affair.

While our host's attention to his watch indicated some form of a schedule, as a guest there was little if any felt urgency - everything seemed to happen in good time. We were ushered from lunch to discussion/watermelon dessert to the sanctuary, just in time for the sermon. In a worship service that stretched over two hours, as guests we were brought in to hear just the Pastor speak.

Part of me wonders if this is indicative of the significance the Sermon holds in this (and other) congregations' worship practices. Is the rest considered a mere prelude leading up to the 'main event' or is it equally substantial? What do people consider the highpoint in worship? In American Lutheran Congregations I'm familiar with, often the Sermon and Communion tend to rank high as ‘most significant.’ Elsewhere it has been the Benediction, with many people seeing receipt of the blessing as crucial to worship. How is it here, and elsewhere in China, and why?

No God But God

2011-06-04T09:37:00.000-05:00

From 12 May

The Church and The Temple - May 2011

"When [Christian] believers see a Buddhist temple they get uneasy," explains one Pastor of the CCC. To them, "seeing a monk is like seeing a ghost." In this particular congregation, such sightings are a regular occurrence.

Located on the edge Hohhot, one of the growing urban centers of China's Inner-Mongolia Autonomous Region, this congregation is located right next to a Buddhist temple. Seen from the main road nearby, the red cross atop the church and peak of the temple structure compete with one another for prominence.

While one could perhaps imagine a scenario in which this church was planted in an intentionally evangelistic effort to proselytize and convert, the reality behind this placement of sacred spaces is entirely secular and pragmatic. In the government's urbanization plan for this area, once the apartment towers and office blocks were assigned their prime pieces of real estate, remaining lands in less than ideal locations were set aside for other uses. In this instance, the spare space behind the city's equestrian facility was marked for 'religious purposes' and thus the temple and the church were assigned adjoining plots.

For those who have recently converted to Christianity, the Pastor explains, this juxtaposition of Buddhism and Christianity can be troubling. While intellectually members know that the Bible says "Only God is God," a sense of fear still lingers instinctually. Historically Buddhism, in its varying expressions and local iterations, has had a "powerful hold on the Chinese people." Even after the Cultural Revolution and the secularization of nation, cosmologically and culturally the spirits, symbols, rites, and practices of the tradition "still have power for many."

While those who convert to Christianity ostensibly deny that power, resting their faith in the one true God over whom the idols and spirits of the temples hold no sway, the way in which Buddhism and other traditional religions have been so thickly enmeshed in Chinese culture makes a clean and immediate break with the past nearly impossible. Beyond creeds and confessions, there is the task of sorting out which pieces of one's culture can be carried forward (and allowed to have some animating power) and which ones must be left behind.

In the communities of overseas Chinese Christians I've worked with on the Malay Peninsula, this is a challenge there as well. I think of the men who, especially if they are the eldest son, have specific responsibilities in the family's funerary rites and respecting of one's ancestors; while they may be willing to make the faith claim that "there is no God but God" the demands of family and tradition to properly fulfill one's duty still hold a considerable degree of animating power. Parsing the differences between religious practice and cultural obligation for them is no easy task.

Growing up a Christian in a culture thick with my own religion, this is a challenge utterly foreign to me and is one I'd hope to be able to explore more fully in the future. I wonder how the difficulty disentangling traditional Chinese religious practices from Chinese culture faced by Chinese Christian communities in Kuala Lumpur might be compared with the issues faced here in Hohhot and elsewhere.

• Do 'traditional ways' hold greater power in one community versus the other?

• What are the 'fears' associated with Buddhism and other religions? How are those fears addressed and/or dispelled?

• Where are the lines drawn between religious acts and cultural practices in these respective communities? What can be carried forward or transformed? What must be left behind? How are those distinctions similar/different in each location and why?

City Church

2011-06-03T06:03:00.001-05:00

From 8 May

Sunday Morning in Beijing - May 2011

The line stretched around the building - five or six people wide in most places. Amplified voices crackling through speakers attached to the building punctuated the din of the murmuring voices. Men and women, young and old, from a cross section of society were dressed in their semi-casual Sunday best. Scattered in hands throughout the crowd were well-worn, dog-eared bibles.

It is a scene that plays out openly in Beijing week after week.

Overhead, a couple stories and three-fifths of the way up, the vertical column in the middle of the stairway was met by a horizontal beam. Together they formed the towering white cross that marks the entrance to Haidian Christian Church, a congregation of the CCC that worships in the Technology/University district of Northwest Beijing.

Fifteen minutes before our service was slated to begin, the left-hand doors at the top of the stairs opened and a stream of worshippers from the previous service came pouring out. Five minutes later the right-hand doors were opened and we surged forward - members of our group holding hands and taking hold of bag straps in order not to be separated in the crowd. The sanctuary, a strikingly modern and cleanly designed space that could easily seat over one thousand people, was efficiently filled in minutes. Hospitality teams ensured everyone was seated and comfortable.

Moments later worship began with a procession of the choir, church leaders, and pastors from the rear of the sanctuary while the massive video screen at the front stirred to life by displaying a live feed from the stylized steeple outside where a pair of bells were loudly ringing and publicly heralding the start of this Christian assembly.

Where the Mandarin of this first service rendered the linguistic details of this celebration largely opaque to non-speakers/readers, its liturgical form was transparent. The ordo of corporate song and prayer, the proclaimed Word, and monthly communion was recognizably Christian. A later service, conducted in English and in a more contemporary praise-and-worship style, would equally be at home in Protestant congregations in North America and beyond.

While most of the morning's proceedings were familiar, there were a handful of surprises that shine a light on significant aspects of contemporary Christianity in China. Of them, the one that continues to linger with me is what happened as communion was served during the English language service; as the elements were distributed the celebrant instructed the congregation that 'those who are not baptized may be seated,' after which nearly a third of the congregation sat down.

While admittedly a small exchange in the context of an hour and a half long worship service, these actions are telling in a variety of ways:

First, the sizable portion of the congregation that sat down because they were not baptized is demonstrative of the success that the Christian Church of China is having in attracting the curiosity and attention of non-believers. In the context of the congregations I'm familiar with in the United States, having up to a third of the congregation on any given Sunday self-identify as non-members and visitors is almost inconceivable. Whatever their reasons for being there, be it at the invitation of a family member or friend, a desire to practice English (as was the case of the two young women behind me), or the stirring of the Spirit, their presence in worship is significant and indicative of the growing presence of the Church in China and elsewhere in the Global South/East.

Secondly, as was pointed out in conversations following the service, the language used by the pastor is noteworthy. By phrasing the request as an invitation to be seated, rather than a command, he opened up a liturgical loophole for Christians not baptized or registered in the official Church to participate in the sacrament. Should a member of an unregistered congregation have been in attendance, the subtle choice of words would have allowed them to remain standing and join in the activity in good conscience. In the midst of proper policy and protocol of the CCC and governmental Three-Self Patriotic Movement [TSPM] that oversees it, this act opens up a pocket of grace. Further expanding this act of inclusion, it wasn't until the bread and wine had been distributed to all who were standing, and those who had been seated stood up again, that the elements were consumed. In this way, the sacrament was shared in and among the entire assembly.

Finally, scanning the room as I stood with my fellow baptized Christian, I was struck by the composition of the gathered assembly. While mostly English-speaking Chinese, the presence of ex-pats and foreign visitors, as well as an American worship-leader, were demonstrative of the diversity and internationalization of the CCC - especially as it is found in large cities like Beijing. While the three-self principles of self-governance, self-support, and self-propagation drive the Church to independence, the gathering of people from different states and nations is a witness to the interdependent nature of the worldwide body of Christ. What I had perceived as isolated and exclusionary in my course readings at a distance was shown, in reality and in person, to be more open than I had imagined.

Unrecognized

2011-06-02T09:47:00.001-05:00

From 7 May

Cross in Red - May 2011

"On Easter Sunday, 30 members of my church were detained by government officials," ****** shared with me. With that aside, stated matter-of-factly, world headlines were suddenly realized and made manifest in the form of my seat mate, even as the minibus cruised along the highway back to Beijing.

"The arrests have continued over the past 3 weeks . . . somewhere over 30 are detained each time. Our Pastor and many others are under house arrest."

Of concern for the government is the fact that this church is 'unregistered' - having outgrown the moniker 'house church' by several hundred members and a couple million dollars, 'unregistered' is a more fitting descriptor of this type of Christian assembly. With leadership neither trained nor ordained by the state authorized China Christian Council, the congregation fails to satisfy the requirements needed to be recognized, and thereby protected, by the state.

"We want to be registered. We have applied. . . Because our Pastors are not 'officially' ordained we have been denied. They have been ordained by their predecessors and they have been trained (outside the approved system) but it is not acceptable to the state."

With my own ordination slated to take place in less than two weeks, this is a story that gives me pause. It simultaneously causes me to realize the parallels between the Church as it is found in China and the United States as well as the significant dissimilarity.

What headlines like the ones from this past Easter and the pop-culture conceptions of contemporary Christian persecution in China often downplay is the existence of expressions of the faith (Protestant and Catholic) that are recognized by the government, that are state sanctioned and state approved, and that are growing.

The China Christian Council (CCC) is the official Protestant Church in the country. As a 'post-denominational' body composed of the remnants of different mainline Protestant churches in the country (Methodists, Anglicans, Presbyterians, etc), I note a lot of similarity in the DNA of our respective practices and policies - especially as it relates to the question of Ordination. Of concern in our respective organizations is the proper training and credentialing of Church Leaders.

As is the case in China with the CCC, in my own denomination in the United States, Pastors must meet a certain level of standards and follow certain processes in order to be Ordained. To be 'recognized,' one must tow the party line. Those who don't, or who are ordained in processes outside of official channels, remain unrecognized and unauthorized to serve in our churches.

An obvious caveat in this comparison (and it is a massive one) is the role of State in designating one body the 'official' Protestant Church in China, developing the standards, and using its martial power to enforce protocol and, as happened on Easter, to prosecute those who break it.

What I am curious about is exploring the possibility of reconciliation - especially in light of the congregation's desire to be registered.

What compromises would need to take place in order for 'unrecognized' leaders and their congregations to become recognized by the CCC? Would they need to humbly submit themselves before recognized authorities and follow the approved educational track? How might establishment leaders flex the system to accommodate such outliers? Is there even interest or energy to pursue such a project?

Have You Eaten Yet?

2011-06-01T19:01:00.003-05:00

From 19 May.

Lunch with a Rural Church near Nanjing - May 2011

"Have you eaten yet?" These were the words with which we were greeted by Prof. Chloe Starr as we arrived at Beijing's Capital Airport - not 'Hello' or 'Hi' or even 'How was your flight?'

More than tending to a practical matter at hand, the question (as I learned during my time in Malaysia) is a traditional Chinese greeting. It is also indicative of the significant role meals would play during the subsequent two weeks.

Gathered knee-to-knee and elbow to elbow at round tables, our chopsticks were perpetually poised to pluck the delicacies that spun past us on a seemingly endless succession of lazy-susans: rice porridge, steamed buns, fish, Peking Duck, Mongolian Mutton, Hot Pot beef, Hohhot dairy, broccoli, eggplant, tofu, greens, and fried chicken buried under a mountain of mouth-numbing dried chilies. This was all paired with beverages like fragrant tea & boiled water; Tsingtato & Suntory beer, and of course smooth Golden Camel and harsher brands of the sorghum based liquor known as Baijiu.

While memorable events in and of themselves, more often than not these meals functioned as vehicles for entering more deeply into local manifestations of Chinese culture in general and cultivating relationships with Church Officials, colleagues, and friends from the Grasslands of Inner Mongolia, to a Rural Church outside Nanjing, and the Cosmopolitan Heights of Shanghai.

Through food, drink, and conversation we were able to develop a taste for China and tune our ears to the stories, experiences, dreams, and concerns that motivate the Christian Church there.

Ordained

2011-05-25T05:46:00.007-05:00

Surrounded by so Great a Cloud of Witnesses - May 20, 2011

The following was originally published in the worship bulletin of the Saint Paul Area Synod's Opening Worship/ my Ordination. The event took place at 8:30am on Friday, May 20 at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Burnsville, MN. You can find video of the Rite of Ordination here.

It was in the chapel in Tungamalenga, our companion congregation in the Iringa Diocese, in August of 2004, that my call to ministry was most forcefully and finally articulated.

Kneeling there, at the communion rail, shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and sisters (Men and Women, Americans and Tanzanians, Maasai and Hehe), vocational yearnings were given concrete expression and the vision of being a bridge-builder - connecting people of faith from different parts of the world - was born.

It is a call rooted in my immediate family: in the nightly prayers spoken by a mother to her child; in the work ethic and character passed on from father to son; in the inspiration and constant best-friendship of a younger brother.

It has been shaped by extended family and the different expressions of the Christian faith that they embody – a Charismatic awareness of the Spirit paired with a Social Concern for justice and for compassion.

It has been informed by the work of close friends, speaking hope and bringing renewal to our world through their service as teachers and healers, as policy shapers and advocates for our common wellbeing, both here and abroad.

It is a call that has been supported and shepherded by institutions: the Saint Paul Area Synod, its Candidacy Committee, and the Bega Kwa Bega partnership; our companions in the Iringa Diocese, Tumaini University, and Ilula Hospital; the Global Mission unit of the ELCA and its International Horizon Internship program; Hamline University, Luther Seminary, Yale Divinity School and all of the faculty, staff, and fellow students that have accompanied me along the way

It is a call that has been encouraged by congregations the world over: by Saint Luke’s in Waukesha, WI; First Lutheran Church of the Reformation in New Britain, CT; Tungamalenga Parish in Iringa, Tanzania; Luther House Chapel in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia; and, of course, Shepherd of the Valley in Apple Valley – who took a chance in 2001 and hired, as a youth director, the guy who applied from Bali and interviewed with a muffin crumb lodged in his eyebrow.

As I prepare to live into that call and to depart for service as the Country Coordinator of the ELCA’s Young Adults in Global Mission program in Malaysia, I realize that I do not go alone – that I am accompanied by so great a cloud of witnesses.

For them, and for all of you gathered here on this day, I give thanks.

God’s Peace
-peter

Spring Happens

2011-05-05T07:04:00.000-05:00

Yale in Bloom - May 2011

Somewhere, somehow - in the midst of the hustle and the bustle of multi-tasking term papers, final classes, work plans, and a fair bit of travel - spring happened.

Life is in the air - new colors, new scents, new possibilities.

Also, a lot of pollen.

Undesired Struggle

2011-03-15T17:39:00.003-05:00

The Crocker Range in Malaysian Borneo - April 2010

"It feels like maybe I'm not being fully honest."

"When my students tell me they want to be Doctors or Lawyers or Leaders of course I say to them, 'Yes, you can do anything. . . Follow your dreams.' Quietly, I know that this is not really likely to happen if they stay here."

"Still, I try. Still, I teach."

The words hung in the air as a kampung chicken stuck his scrawny head into the humble classroom in which the English teacher and I were conversing. Children's voices broke the afternoon heat. "Bone from my bones and flesh from my flesh," they said in unison and in Malay. The Sunday School was having a lesson of their own as well.

Outside, a puppy chased flies over and around the pile of sandals just across the threshold from us. In the distance, women were hanging laundry out to dry over the carved railings of their raised porches and on lines strung up between banana trees. The few men that were there sat in the shade, the murmur of their voices fading into the humidity and the haze.

Located a couple thousand feet above sea level, over the Crocker Range and a couple hours inland from Kota Kinabalu, on the outskirts of a former lumber town, the setting for this conversation was a ministry center of the Basel Christian Church of Malaysia.

The rain forests that used to blanket the area have all but been eliminated - clear cut, ripped down, shipped off to Japan for processing and then washed around the world by an globalized wave of supply chains, products, and a voracious appetite for tropical timber.

Small clearings, like this one, are left in its wake - locations deemed undesirable by local populations.

In them live communities of migrants, like this one, from neighboring countries - peoples deemed undesirable by local populations.

Drawn to Sabah for economic gain, these migrant workers have, for decades now, come from the East and the Philippine archipelago and from the South and the Indonesian state of Kalimantan.

When times were good their children mixed freely in public schools with Malaysian nationals. Nowadays, however, they are regularly told that there is "no place" for them.

Trapped in this country between their parents' economic need and immigration law, the children find themselves to be technical citizens of lands in which they have never stepped foot and uncertain residents of a land in which they are not wanted.

Seeing their need, the Christian Churches have responded.

All throughout the area, 'centers' such as this one (the government would not allow them to be called schools), intended specifically for migrant children, have been constructed. And teachers, such as my colleague, have been commissioned to equip these migrant Children with a basic level of education.

While more can be done and more should be done - especially at the policy level - to address the injustices issued against these migrant children and their families, as I replay that distant conversation in that classroom, I can't help but note that my heart also goes out to the children's teachers:

Even as they worry about the long term prospects for their students . . .

Even with a socio-economic and political deck stacked against them and those they are seeking to assist . . .

They try. And they teach.

Day in and day out, they answer a call to serve 'the least of these' . . .

Day in and day out, even as they struggle, they faithfully persist.

Welcomed to KK

2011-03-11T03:04:00.002-06:00

The Jesselton Wharf in Kota Knabalu - April 2010

I arrived at Kota Kinabalu International Airport (KKIA) at 11pm this past Sunday night jet-lagged and travel weary. One thing about traveling to the exact opposite side of the planet is that, regardless of which way you go, it is always a long journey.

I was warmly greeted at the airport by Bishop Thomas Tsen of the Basel Christian Church of Malaysia (BCCM) and his wife, Rev. Laura Hindrianto with welcoming handshakes and many signs of thoughtfulness and care: a pre-paid cell phone to use throughout my visit, a bag of biscuits and granola bars to keep hunger at bay through the night, and keys to a comfortable room in the student hostel at Sabah Theological Seminary (STS).

With that I was graciously left to drift off to sleep and then to wake at my leisure, with no real commitments to speak of until a handful of meetings late Monday afternoon.

Nearly halfway through this introductory trip, I can say that already I am starting to feel 'at home' here in the "Land Beneath the Wind" as this East Malaysian state is unofficially known.

Visits to the sites where volunteers will be placed have been inspiring - there is a lot of good work being done. In multiple conversations, site supervisors and BCCM leaders have recalled fondly the first group of volunteers who served here in 2009-2010 and expressed an eagerness to meet those who will be arriving in September.

In short, from where I currently stand, all is well - exceedingly well.

Looking ahead, I consider myself quite lucky to have landed in the position that I have: assisting in the further extension of the hospitality I have already received and helping to bridge the relationship between American Young Adult Guests and our generous Sabahan Hosts.

And So It Begins. Again.

2011-03-04T21:36:00.001-06:00

Sabahan Sea and Sky off of Kota Kinabalu - May 2010

This past Wednesday I became official.

The i's have been dotted and the t's have been crossed and, by official action of the Global Mission unit of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, a call has been extended for me to serve as the YAGM Coordinator in Malaysia.

Less than 72 hours later, I'm prepped and ready to jet halfway around the planet for two weeks of visiting sites where volunteers will be placed in the fall, meeting with leadership of our partners in Sabah, and starting to get a sense of what life will be like later this year when I return to settle down more permanently along the South China Sea on the North Coast of Malaysian Borneo.

How is that for a rapid introduction and a new beginning?

Groovin'

2011-03-04T20:39:00.000-06:00

From 20 Feb

Seemingly Effortless Moves - March 2010

As it turns out, I'm human.

As such a critter, I do indeed have constraints and limitations.

From time to time I bite off more than I can (safely) chew. Recent weeks have proven to be one such time. The ambitious schedule I had planned for this 'finally final semester' in which I evnisioned myself hopscotching between coursework, work-work, and thesis-work while physically bopping from New Haven to Borneo to Chicago to China to Graduation got tripped up when it hit this thing called 'reality.'

There wasn't a crisis, so to speak. Just an opportunity for clarity and an 'A-Ha! Moment' in which the words and melodies of Simon and Garfunkel could be heard all the way from the 59th Street Bridge: "Slow Down, You Move to Fast . . ."

Shifting gears a bit, I've decided to postpone completion of my thesis/writing project into June. While it technically means missing out on a May 2011 Graduation, in the grand scheme of things this is the better option. It allows room for breathing and for be-ing; for kickin' down the cobblestones and considering the flowers that are growin'.

With this minor move, all is groovy.

Here's to 32

2011-01-29T09:37:00.030-06:00

Looking Out - Jan 2011

I suppose it isn't entirely my fault.

Still, I can't help but feel that - in some small way at the very least - the record setting snows we've been having in the Northeast are payback for all of the times I said that I missed winter while sipping smoothies in the tropical heat of KL last year.

That, or the back-to-back-to-back snow/sleet/ice storms are compensation in advance for all of the wintry mixes I'll be 'missing' over the next four years.

The facebooked birthday wishes that came in over the past couple of days brought some warmth to the beautifully cold landscape around me.

Coming as they did from across the United States and places farther afield like Malaysia, Nepal, Tanzania, and Denmark, the wall posts and messages were a visible expression of the world-wide-web of relationships I've been fortunate enough to find myself enmeshed in during my brief time wandering around this rock we all call home.

As 32 begins, my international dance card is already looking quite full. In March I'm off to Borneo and the city of Kota Kinabalu doing site visitations for work. That will be followed quickly by a week in not-quite-as-balmy Chicago in April meeting potential volunteers. May will find me closing out my Yale Divinity career with a two week travel seminar in China. Then, during July I'll be re-oriented to the world of ELCA Global Mission in Toronto. Finally, in August, I'll set off for Malaysia and Southeast Asia - for good this time.

From this vantage point, 32 portends to be quite the peripatetic year.

Oddly, perhaps, I trust that it will be a settling year as well.

After nearly six years of study and preparation and yearning, I'm crossing the threshold into a new vocational homeland. It is comforting to be on the verge of arriving. While my work will still require a fair bit of wandering, I look forward to extending my roots and deepening relationships in more secure and stable soils.

For that which has past, I am thankful.
For that which lies ahead, I am hopeful.
For all that lies in between . . .
Here's to 32!

Finally Final

2011-01-13T17:58:00.002-06:00

T.B. and Me in Class - Oct 2010

As action starts to pick-up along the job front, this week I've started in on what will be my final, Final Semester at Yale Divinity School.

Looking back at posts from the Spring of 2009 (during what was then my first Final Semester at YDS), a certain phrase appears regularly in brackets - 'for now.'

This time that finality is 'for real.'

One year certainly makes for a short (and intense) degree.

Last semester challenged me with questions about Religion and Politics, Violence and Reconciliation, and Faith and Globalization. Now the focus is shifting to issues surrounding the Disinherited, Urban Life and Global History, and the Church in China - including a travel seminar in early May.

Also out there is a thesis springing from my encounter a year ago with migrant workers from Nepal and their 'miraculous' conversion to Christianity in mostly Muslim Malaysia - something I should really get serious about writing one of these days.

If the fall seemed to fly by, the spring promises to be nothing short of a whirlwind.

Work-work (as in professional work) will come again soon enough.

The more immediate challenge is to hold on, to make the most of every opportunity, and to graciously savor every second of what is undoubtedly my final go-round as an academic bulldog.

Boomerang Pete

2011-01-09T12:35:00.001-06:00

Flung Back to Malaysia - Dec 2010

Christmas came early on the job front this year.

On Monday, December 20 I received word that the ELCA has decided to 'go forward' with me for a position in Global Mission. While I'm still waiting for the requisite background check and psychological evaluation to be completed before the assignment is made official, all signs point to me heading back to Malaysia to serve as the Country Coordinator for the ELCA's Young Adults in Global Mission program in the not-so-distant future.

Initially based in Kota Kinabalu in the East Malaysian state of Sabah, I'll be working with our local partners (the Basel Christian Church of Malaysia in this case) to help Young Adult Volunteers from the U.S. connect, build relationships, and work side-by-side with their brothers and sisters of faith in this corner of Borneo during their year of service. Because it is still a fairly new program in this region (the initial YAGM volunteers in KK coincided with my year in KL), the position will also involve considerable creativity as it grows, develops, and potentially expands to other parts of the country.

While the commitment on the volunteers' end is for 11-12 months, for me this will be long-term - with an initial assignment of at least 4 years.

Personally and professionally this is huge.

The timing of this development made the holidays and time spent with my immediate family all the more poignant. Although both grandmothers have been fond of reminding me that I had said my plan was to 'settle down in the U.S. for a while and get a family started' after my internship abroad, nobody has since questioned whether or not this was the 'right' next move for me.

If one's Vocation, as Frederick Buechner states, "is where your greatest passion meets the world's greatest need," there is little doubt in my mind (or anyone else's for that matter) that this is the work to which I am called and for which I have been training these past six years.

I still find myself in a state of awed humility.

In just a few short months (following the completion of my STM at Yale Divinity), I'll find myself flying back to Southeast Asia, a place that I love, to do work that I love in partnership with people that I love - a turn of events that I couldn't have imagined when I came back to the States in August. Again I see the workings of the Spirit playing out in unexpectedly incredible ways.

Zoom indeed!

A Doggy-Dog Christmas

2011-01-04T14:46:00.003-06:00

Kasper Kibo

2011-01-04T14:36:00.001-06:00

An Ever-Curious, Ever-Adventurous, Spotted-Pup - September 2007

More than culture shocking and re-learning how to be a student again, fall 2010 was marked by another significant change: I went from being a lone wolf to having another member in my pack - an adorable and energetic English Springer Spaniel (half brother to my parents' dog). A lover of romping through the woods, jumping in the river, chasing squirrels, and making new friends at the dog park, Kasper Kibo has been a welcome addition to my life and more than lives up to his name.

"What's in a name?" you ask. Let's break it down.

'KASPER' - According to ever-trusty Wikipedia, is a famous and traditional puppet character from Austria and Germany. . . Kasper is our unbeatable hero. He laughs and jokes, even in the face of danger. Kasper is always ready for an adventure with his friends. PunchandJudy.com adds, "he is the one who attracts all the sympathy of his audience. He is allowed to make his jokes, to misunderstand all the others etc. He might be naughty sometimes and often he is the one who has to learn his lesson – but he has a good heart; and often he is the one who helps to solve a problem. He is sometimes naïve – but quick-witted and in the end he is the winner."

'KIBO' - The highest of the three peaks of Tanzania's Mount Kilimanjaro which, at 19,341 feet is the the tallest mountain in Africa and the 4th tallest in the world. Also, in the language of the Chagga people the word 'Kibo' means 'spotted' and describes the contrast of dark rocks on the white snowfields of the summit.

Displaced

2010-10-15T14:41:00.002-05:00

From 15 September

At a Distance: The Malay Peninsula - Aug 2010

It has been a month since I left Malaysia - a month marked by seemingly perpetual motion.

After jetting from Kuala Lumpur to Los Angeles by way of Taipei, my reentry was initiated with five days on the West Coast - including one very long one at the happiest place on Earth. From there it was 'Forward!' to Wisconsin for a week of meeting my new dog, watching my dad get 'de-bearded,' and participating in my cousin Kelley's wedding. With wedding bells still ringing in my ears, Pop-pop, Pup-pup, and I set out at 4am in the ever versatile Honda Element (hitting a Skunk-skunk ten miles out of the 'sha) for 17 hours and one thousand highway miles to New Haven, Connecticut, and the Eastern Seaboard.

Thus I crossed both an ocean and a continent in a little under 13 days.

Back now at Yale, the last couple weeks have been centered on shifting class schedules and trying to discern a new kind of normal. It is only in very recent days that I've begun to feel as though I've finally landed somewhere.

It is a nice sensation, but one that I know will be fleeting. Even as I settle in to new rhythms and routines and contemplate putting pen to paper for my STM writing project, processes and possibilities play along the periphery of my vision, exciting and enticing my imagination. Gainful employment is but a few steps away. The immediacy of Assignment to a synod in the United States and some incredible opportunities abroad remind me that I haven't really reached my new, more permanent, home yet.

In short, and for now, I'm at a place between places.

Full Days

2010-08-16T20:50:00.000-05:00

Farewell Dinner - Aug 13, 2010

I just had my final round of WonTon Mee with Bishop Lok at one of the Hawker Centers on the PJ NewTown Square. Accompanied by a glass of Teh Ice, it was simple and satisfying. The conversation, remembering and reflecting on my time with Luther House Chapel, was a helpful step in the process of bringing closure to the year.

It was but the latest in a string of goodbyes and good meals that I've been able to celebrate and share with my new-found Malaysian (& Nepali) Brothers and Sister. It was preceded by Monday night's Kajang Sate, Tigers on the street and filling lunch of spicy Nonya Food. Before that, of course, there was also: a steaming round of Bak Kut Teh; massive buffet at Luther House; Glorine's home cooking for a house warming; old school Hainanese; a farewell dinner/banquet; and on and on and on.

Through this week-long marathon of meals, my stomach has been expanded by the tasty delights and my soul has been stretched by the relationships I have formed here. As a result of this feasting and fellowship, I am beyond full.

With my face now set toward my family and my homeland, I know that I'll be returning there a changed person - carrying with me a whole host of memories (and a couple extra kgs) that will remain for years to come.

For all those who have shared their time, their stories, and their lives with me these past 355 days, all I can say is "Terima Kasih" from the bottom of my heart.

And, since 'Goodbye' sounds too permanent, I'll leave you (for now) with Sampai Jumpa Lagi . . .

Cycling Down

2010-08-12T08:21:00.000-05:00

Everyday Sights - Aug 2010

There is a humid haziness to the sky and a heaviness in the atmosphere that have been particularly familiar these past few days. Technically speaking the temperature is about the same today as it was in March and in December, but something 'feels' different - perhaps there is a seasonality to the timelessness of the tropics after all.

Banners have begun appearing on streetlight poles all around PJ New Town - red, white and blue with a star and stripes and a crescent moon. Joining the banners are Malaysian flags hung up in the window at Starbucks, just outside the 99 Speedmart Convenience store, and elsewhere around the square. These too are jogging my memory of a time when the streets were unfamiliar; the LRT station seemed far away from the bungalow; and Limpy, Blondie, and the Mean One were three nameless dogs in the yard.

Once again the phrase 'Selamat Datang Ramadhan' [Welcome/Happy Ramadan] is strung up over the street in front of the MBPJ complex. This time, however, the year reads 1431h instead of 1430.

Has a full year passed already?

In the streets of KL and PJ, and within the congregation of Luther House as well, the patterns and rhythms of life continue. The Ramadhan greetings will, in time, be replaced with Deepavali, Christmas, New Year 2011, and Chinese New Year after that. Plans are again in the works for Mooncake Festival celebrations at Joy Haven, Cultural Celebrations with the Orang Asli, and another Medical Mission to the Cameron Highlands. The cycle of life continues on here . . . even as I'm in the midst of cycling out.

That is one of the tough things about a one year internship; just as you have half-a-clue about what is going on, your overstuffed bags are packed and you are nearly out the door. Having been through it all once, I'm ready to give it all another go-round . . . in spirit, then, if not in physical form.

See, See! Change, Change!

2010-08-10T19:28:00.005-05:00

An evening of eery adventure (and memorable quotes) in the tide pools of Tenggol Island.

Conversion

2010-07-30T00:07:00.002-05:00

What do you see? A Swiftlet or Soup? - July 2010

Our second day of exploring Gunung Mulu National Park in the Malaysian state of Sarawak got interesting really quick. It also revealed a significant personal transformation that has occurred over the past eleven months.

After making a rope ascent and squeezing through a tight opening, we came to the first of Racer Cave's many large subterranean chambers. The beams of light from our torches cut through the darkness, revealing the mysteries of the limestone walls surrounding us. In one corner they uncovered a small, dark colored bird clinging to the cave wall. Being young and an inexperienced flier, the bird simply sat there as we lumbered toward it.

Immediately I recognized it.

"A swiftlet? . . " I half-asked our guide.

As he was nodding his head in the affirmative, I had little control over the words that came out of my mouth . . .

"Bird's nest soup, right?"

Not quite.

See, there are a couple different species of swiftlet and (unfortunately for some) not all of them use their saliva to construct the nests that are a popular local delicacy in either soup or bottled form. This one, for example, makes it's nest out of twigs and moss and mud. Not too tasty.

Relaying our close-encounter of the swiftlet kind to the one of my internship committee members, she SMS-ed back the following reply: "U see wild creatures and thot of food. Congratulations! U r now a bona fide chinese."

A couple days later, at Bako National Park, my cultural conversion was confirmed; a wild boar crossed my path and my mouth watered in anticipation of a delicious curry. This could be problematic. As I head home in a couple weeks, I fear what this new appetite might mean for creatures across North America.

Care to whet your appetite? More pictures of wildlife and other potential food sources from the trip I took to Sarawak with my Aunt and Uncle are in the East Malaysia photo album on the right. Follow that link and scroll down or simply click here.

Nepali Coda

2010-07-24T07:04:00.006-05:00

From 2 July

View From the Ambassador's Office - July 2010

We were gathered from all around peninsular Malaysia (Penang, Johor Bahru, Kuala Lumpur, and Petaling Jaya), more than twenty people composed of half a dozen different nationalities representing different Christian organizations that minister to foreign workers from Nepal.

Our host that Friday afternoon was Ambassador Dr. Rishi, at the Embassy of Nepal in Malaysia. Our topic of conversation was identifying ways in which these various faith-based organizations can work with the Embassy to further enhance the safety, security, and well-being of Nepali migrant workers in Malaysia.

The robust conversation was both challenging and constructive. Frustrations and grievances with the world as it is were graciously heard by the Ambassador and concrete action steps were proposed to begin linking the social service and justice work that churches are doing across the Malay peninsula with the resources and counsel available from the embassy.

With the Amnesty International report and memories of Nepal fresh in my mind, I left the meeting feeling inspired. Here was a group of Christians working across national, ethnic, and religious lines to build a relationship and plan for action with a public official - successfully entering and engaging the public square and wading into the murky waters of international relations.

If the leaders of these different organizations are able to sustain the energy of the meeting and solidify the relationships and plans that were generated, it would be a significant step in addressing the issues faced by migrant foreign workers in Malaysia.

Still, more obstacles and challenges remain, many of which are associated with internal matters and policies of the Malaysian Government. While that is an area where migrant workers and Ambassadors of foreign countries have no jurisdiction, it is precisely where local citizens have power.

This all leads me to wonder, if faithful Christians and concerned citizens are capable of knocking on an Ambassador's door and scheduling a meeting on an idle Friday afternoon, why not call up their own Members of Parliament and pursue partnership and action with them as well? What is there to lose?

Hope and Fear upon Arrival

2010-07-24T05:26:00.008-05:00

From 27 June

KLIA: Reflections in Marble - August 2009

Nepal Airlines flight 415 departed Kathmandu at 11:30pm. Bound for Kuala Lumpur, the plane was filled almost entirely with young Nepali men. Not including the flight attendants, you could count the number of women on one hand. Chances are high that I was the sole American on board.

This same flight operates six days a week, shuttling migrant workers out from the shadow of the Himalayas to the Malaysian capital at three degrees North of the equator and back again. Plane after plane and day after day, this is how many of Malaysia's estimated 2.2 million foreign workers enter the country.

One of the young men was sitting next to me. Like many, he clutched his passport and working papers in his hand. Over his shoulders, a pale peach scarf was loosely draped. We had received similar scarves when we entered a friend's house in Ilam as a sign of welcome and hospitality. I imagine this young man received his as he departed his home, a sign of blessing that carried with it hope for a prosperous future in Malaysia and memories of family and friends.

Approaching Kuala Lumpur in the darkness of early morning, the city lights appeared beneath us. The plane began to stir as faces were pressed against the windows taking it all in and surveying this new land that, for many, will be 'home' the next two to five years.

We arrived at 5:40 am to an empty terminal building. The air was artificially chilled and crisp while the lights from above reflected off of the cold polished floors below. A group of guys gathered at the end of one of the moving walkways, pointing and laughing before one took a first tenuous step onto it.

While the city slumbered they entered. As with their departure, nobody was there to notice their arrival.

Travel weary and blurred from lack of sleep we moved ahead. Leaving our Nepali brothers behind, we breezed through security and customs without an official so much as batting an eye. We didn't see what became of the incoming guys.

My hope is that the dreams they carry with them will be fulfilled and that the sacrifices they and their loved ones are making will be worth it - helping their families while performing much needed labor here in Malaysia.

My fear is that, as strangers in a strange land, they might find themselves quickly lost in the darkest of valleys - out of sight and out of mind, trapped in an alien environment that can be anything but hospitable.

This fear is not unfounded.

As is the case in many places, migrant and foreign workers here are often victims of exploitative practices and unadulterated acts of injustice. As a recent report from Amnesty International graphically demonstrates, the situation in Malaysia is particularly troubling and the problem is systemic.

In no uncertain terms, the Amnesty International report underscores the necessity and importance of initiatives like the Migrant Ministry Partnership that reach out to support these vulnerable brothers among us.

It also points to an area in which the Christian Community can act as a public and prophetic witness, moving beyond acts of charity to build an interfaith base of power capable of demanding system-wide change to ensure that all who enter this country are afforded basic human rights and dignity.

After all, as peoples of the book, sharing a common ancestor who was 'a wandering Aramean' and a common conviction to look after 'the least of these,' both faithful Muslims and Christians are compelled to look after the nomads, the wanderers, and the migrants in our midst.

Working the Borderlands

2010-07-11T06:39:00.006-05:00

Where India Meets Nepal - June 2010

The monsoon rains were still building far to our south in the Bay of Bengal when our flight touched down at Biratnagar, some 180 miles east from, and 4300 feet below, Kathmandu. Another 45 minutes by hired van brought us out into a landscape of dusty fields and dried paddies stretching off to the south as far as the eye could see - well beyond Nepal's nearby border with India. This is the terai, the plains, and they were dry - ready for the promised first drops of water from above.

It is here, in a small village called Laukahi, that we met two returnees by the names of Paras and Ratna and witnessed work that had begun in Malaysia bearing fruit in this, the unlikeliest of places. They had come to Malaysia in search of work, young men looking to support their families, and in the process found their lives transformed through the outreach, support, and evangelism of Malaysian Christians.

Now, having returned to Nepal, they themselves are putting into practice that which they had seen and heard in Kuala Lumpur in an ethnically and religiously charged environment - a frontier where Nepal meets India, Hinduism meets Islam, and the Christian witness is next to non-existent.

A dozen yards off of the highway from Kathmandu, the words 'Basic Computer Training' in both English and Nepali stretch across an open storefront on a bright blue banner. Behind two simple partitions sit three and a half computers, protected from the dust outside by thin pieces of cloth. Here, with the only stable internet connection in town, Paras conducts classes introducing villagers to keyboards and mice, Microsoft Office and Yahoo Mail, and - as opportunity and the Spirit allow - the story of a God who so loved the world . . .

A couple miles north along a rutted road, in a collection of solidly constructed houses made of packed mud and hand-hewn timber that goes by the name of Madhuwan, twenty to forty gather regularly with Ratna to also learn about this God. Some have already converted to this new faith, leaving behind caste, tradition, and (often times) family. Others look on from the sidelines to see what the fuss is all about. Over time, as cows munch lazily on grasses and while chilies dry in the sun, most eventually join in the songs - accompanied only by hand drums and simple rhythm instruments - and listen to the testimonies that are shared by their brothers.

Replacing the classic upper room setting with an open courtyard, this fledgling community is a house church in the old-school sense and the only Christian Assembly in the area.

With minimal resources and often at great personal expense, the two work tirelessly, fueled (it would seem) by life-changing encounters a subcontinent away. Following their time as workers in Malaysia and flowing from the witness of the Malaysian Churches, they got going, to paraphrase Matthew 28, returning home and making disciples along the way.

Working as they do in the geographical and religio-cultural borderlands of the terai, I can't help but think of these Nepali brothers of mine as pioneers. It is in large part because of them, and countless others like them in villages like Laukahi the world over, that the Christian Church continues to expand and its 'geographical center' continues to shift South and East, from Europe and North America to Latin America, Africa, and Asia.

In their computer classes and house churches one can see lives being tilled and a new generation of the faithful being cultivated, ready to rise up and lead songs of faith in a new language and key. Like the landscape around them, these holy Christian people are prepared to spring forth and bear fruit abundantly as the promised waters of life draw near.

10 Days in Nepal

2010-06-30T22:21:00.000-05:00

New Heights. New Sights.

2010-06-21T12:43:00.006-05:00

'Mountain Flight' to Mount Everest - June 2010

At 6:45 am on Tuesday the 8th of June, the propellors of the J-41 Turboprop kicked into high gear and we started scuttling down the runway. Within minutes, our Yeti Airlines 'Mountain Flight' was up in the air and breaking through the layer of dust and exhaust that lingers over Kathmandu this time of year.

Already making their presence known out of the left-hand windows of the aircraft, the daunting rock faces and glaciers of the Himalayas rose above us. The result of the Indo-Australian plate crashing into the Eurasian plate, this string of snow-capped mountains is the world's highest range and forms a natural barrier separating the hot plains of India from the highlands of the Tibetan plateau.

Straddling this dividing line, Nepal contains one third of the Himalayan system within its borders, including Mount Everest - the highest peak on the planet. At 29,000 feet, it is more than twice the height of Mt. Kinabalu and one challenge that this cat will not be seeking to conquer. While I would like to hike around the area some day, the blue-tinted windows of the airplane are likely the closest I'll get to seeing the summit in person.

As stunning as Everest was, it was but one of the many jaw-droppingly-incredible sights Nepal had to offer.

Following the Mountain Flight, we went on to the ancient royal city of Bhaktapur and then took motorcycles out to explore all around the Kathmandu Valley. In the days to come, we would find ourselves a stone's throw away from the Indian border in the Southern Terai and enjoying the fresh hill country air of Ilam, home to tea as delicious as that grown a few kilometers away in neighboring Darjeeling.

Really, it was all too much to take in during such a short time, let alone to try and describe.

Hoping that photographs might pick up where words fail, I've posted pictures from the trip online. To see them, simply go to the 'Nepal' photo album on the right or click here.

For/From Nepal: Words of Prayer

2010-06-21T08:07:00.003-05:00

From 7 June

Bhaktapur: Woman at the Well - June 2010

When we pray, we speak to God of our ultimate concerns - for justice, for daily bread, for forgiveness, and for guidance. The words and language that we employ point to the 'central things' in the heart of an individual, a group, or an entire community.

It was revelatory, then, for me to participate in a responsive prayer for Nepal at an English-language worship in service this past Sunday. While much of the prayer-language was familiar and spoke both to my individual experience and that of the communities from which I come, a significant portion of the words registered as 'foreign' when they crossed my lips.

Caste, Constitutional Instability, Water Shortages, and Electrical Load Sharing are not conditions I am familiar with either in the United States or in Malaysia. For our Christian brothers and sisters in Nepal, their prayers for the nation reveal the centrality of these pressing realities:

Our heavenly Father, we come before you to intercede for our country, Nepal. We humbly ask that you show your grace and mercy upon our land and the people,and may your love bring healing to all.

We pray for your peace that will put an end to various conflicts in our society - ethnic conflict, caste conflict, political conflict, and militant conflict. May there be harmony, forgiveness, and good understanding among all groups. . .

We pray for the political leaders, particularly as they try to form a new Constitution and a stable, democratic government. May they cooperate together for the good of Nepal and its people. Grant them wisdom, courage, and honesty to lead the country. Let them put the country first before all their personal interests or ambitions. . .

We pray for unity which is so much needed today: unity among our leaders, different communities, political parties, languages, cultures, and also within the Church in Nepal. Help us as your followers to be a positive example and influence upon our neighbors who have not heard the Gospel.

Lord, we also pray for our daily needs such as electricity and water. We pray for sufficient rain for the farmers to cultivate the land, and for all who are struggling to make a daily living.

Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a disgrace to any people. Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord. Amen.

While we draw close to one another, as partners in mission, and learn to bear one another's burdens, may it be that the prayer language of the Church in Nepal becomes our own and, in turn, that our our ultimate concerns become theirs as well.

Airport Signs

2010-06-16T09:26:00.003-05:00

From 5 June

On the Ground in Kathmandu - June 2010

In the pre-dawn hours, the check-in area at Kuala Lumpur International Airport is cool, darkened, and nearly empty. The sole exception is a long line of young men that forms along the far eastern wall of windows.

Their luggage trolleys overflowing with plastic-wrapped bags and cardboard boxes reinforced with packing tape and twine, these migrant workers patiently wait for the counter of [formerly Royal] Nepal Airlines to open. Before the shops and facilities of the airport are fully up and running for the day, they will all have passed immigration and boarded flight RA 416 bound for Nepal - bound for home.

Their discrete departure serves as an apt symbol of their place in society here: out of sight and out of mind of most Malaysians.

Some four and a half hours later, in Kathmandu's Tribhuvan International Airport, the traffic jam of luggage trolleys tells a slightly different story. Interspersed with the plastic-wrapped bags and strung together boxes are signs of budding prosperity.

Dozens of Panasonic Flatscreen TVs and Sony Stereo Systems make the rounds of the baggage carrousel. Picked up by prodigal sons clad head to toe in new leather clothes, these modern luxury items will soon be carted back to villages, homes, and families that are still governed by centuries old traditions and customs.

These things, these physical objects, are further signs that significant change is in the air, as thick and palpable as the dust and diesel fumes that hang over the city.

Furthermore, the young men who bear them - having been away and back again, having been acclimated to a growing global [mono]culture - are likely to be agents of that change.

It was in their midst that we entered Nepal.

KUL to KTM

2010-06-03T08:16:00.005-05:00

From Kuala Lumpur to Kathmandu - June 2010

Some thirty-six hours from now I'll be stepping off a Royal Nepal Airlines flight at Kathmandu's Tribhuvan Airport. Accompanying leaders from Luther House Chapel and the Migrant Ministry Partnership, this is a 2000 mile journey that started, for me at least, in a Malaysian jungle camp and has been encouraged through my continuing involvement with migrant ministries in Petaling Jaya.

Here, in Malaysia, local churches are reaching out to Nepali workers through acts of justice, education, and evangelism. There, in Nepal, we will follow up with workers who have returned home, seek out avenues for further collaboration with local communities of faith, and explore the feasibility of establishing new mission sites in the eastern part of the country.

Knowing Nepal only through the people I've met here and books/articles/movies about Mount Everest and the Himalayas (as well as headlines detailing recent political instability - mostly resolved now), I'm eager to see and share in whatever it has to offer.

With excitement and anticipation building, again I stand on the edge of a new territory and am preparing to stand in a place unlike any I've ever been before.

Between here and KTM, I've got a feeling sleep might be a little hard to come by.

Let the service, the adventure, begin.

Tasting Penang

2010-05-31T21:37:00.004-05:00

Gurney Drive Food Stalls - May 2010

Delicious.

This is the word I invariably lead off with to describe my all too brief visit to the Malaysian island state of Penang.

As evidenced by the hodgepodge of Mosques, Churches, and Temples (of the Chinese, Buddhist, and Hindu persuasions) just a short walk away from my room on the intersection of Lebuh Chulia and Love Lane, this historic trading center lives up to its reputation as a crossroads where cultures, flavors, sights, and smells meet, mix, and mash-up.

From the stately colonial buildings of Georgetown and narrow streets of Chinatown to the beach at Batu Ferringhi and ramshackle fishing village of Teluk Bahang, a fair amount of territory was covered in only a couple of days. As seen on The Amazing Race, and experienced in real life, there truly is so much to see, so much to discover, and so much to taste. Zoom!

To share the sights of Penang and other excursions around West Malaysia, more pictures have been posted online. To see them, follow through to the 'Malaysia' photo album on the right and scroll down, or click here.

As for sharing in the tastes? I urge you to hop on a plane and head on over here ASAP. I'll have a steaming bowl of Assam Laksa and a table waiting for you at the Gurney Drive Food Stalls, with orders of Fried Oysters, Char Koay Teow, Penang Rojak, Nasi Kandar, Cendol, and more on the way. Yum!

Home Stretch

2010-05-30T20:52:00.004-05:00

From 25 May

Phil 'n Limpy, Good Ol' Friends - Dec 2009

I bid farewell to my housemate/colleague/friend Phil today.

Heading out the door for three days in Penang, followed by three more with Luther House on retreat in Taiping, the first few steps away from the house were heavier than I thought they'd be. This was goodbye. By the the time I get back to the city, he'll be halfway home for three months stateside with his family; come August, when he returns, I'll be en route to Yale by way of Los Angeles and Waukesha.

I'm grateful for the shared meals, the 4pm Carlsbergs on couch and chair, and the swapping of stories, observations, and running commentaries on the day to day experience of being a stranger in a strange land, an American navigating his way through the complexities of life in Southeast Asia.

Even more, this departure served as a reminder and a wake-up call that I am indeed entering the final leg of my year in Malaysia.

While there is undoubtedly much to look forward to here, my thoughts and daydreams increasingly turn to the United States and all that awaits me there: cousins' weddings, attending to significant relationships, research/writing, the call process, finding the right job, and to top it off, my new puppy - Kasper.

While there are more fascinating people to meet all around KL/PJ, I'm increasingly aware that the number of 'Goodbyes' in my immediate future will quickly surpass the number of new 'Hellos'

While I'm settling deeper and deeper into the rhythms of life here, adopting and adapting to the local ways of being, my attention and orientation are subtly shifting back to life in America.

In short, I'm finding myself once again stretched between two (if not more) 'homes.'

Neither good nor bad, I make note of this as a condition that is a reality for those of us who find ourselves living and working in that liminal zone between countries and cultures and multiple communities for which we care deeply.

While, in all honesty, there are parts of me that are looking forward to life back in my homeland, I've still got eleven more weeks in wonderland and life is indubitably grand.

Power-filled

2010-05-23T01:14:00.005-05:00

The Christian Church in the Public Square in a Word Cloud - May 2010

"When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability."

Acts 2:1-4

Forty-four people, representing twelve different organizations and institutions, were gathered in an upper room at Luther Centre in Petaling Jaya this past Friday night. A rushing of words filled the air: Person & Identity, The World as it Is & The World as it Should Be, and, of course, Power.

Saturday morning, twenty people returned and began testing out this new language through activities, role play, and further discussion. As the seminar/workshop drew to a close, initial steps were being considered for the formation of a robust Relational Culture within and between congregations, civil society organizations, and other communities of faith.

The conversations had, and questions raised, over the course of the two days would have been unthinkable, or so a participant shared with me, even a decade ago. An ethnic and religious minority, it has only been in recent years that the Christian Church has begun to realize that it does indeed have power (meaning nothing more or less than 'the ability to act') and a significant role to play in addressing the problematic issues that litter the Public Square in modern day Malaysia.

This Pentecost, God is once again up to something new in our midst:

+ Stirring the Church from her slumber.

+ Inspiring leaders with visions of new life together.

+ Filling the faithful with the power to act for the common good.

Through the stories, questions, statements, and observations made during the seminar, in addition to reflections posted afterwards, I have been privileged to be able to witness glimpses of the inbreaking of the power-filled Holy Spirit in the immediate here and now.

For the opportunity to have facilitated and shared in such holy conversations, I am indeed ever thankful.

For the life-giving ways in which such words and ideas might take on flesh and bone and action in the future, I am indeed ever hopeful

On Top of Borneo

2010-05-11T05:54:00.004-05:00

From 5 May

Sunrise over Sabah, Malaysian Borneo - May 2010

I blew my quads out.

Or, as Walter -our chain-smoking, initially hungover guide- succinctly stated some 4km of trail and 7,000 feet of elevation away from our destination, "Your legs, they are finished."

Taking my backpack from me, a move made as much for continued speed of descent as it was for my safety, and hooking me up with a quality walking stick, Walter pointed down the mountain and said, "Slow and steady." Then he took yet another drag on his cigarette as I hobbled on down.

A couple grueling hours -you don't realize how much you take your quadriceps for granted until they are gone- and several thousand side-steps down the mountain later, we exited the trail ['we' being Walter, my buddy Jacob, and myself] at the Timpohon Gate at 2:30pm and officially completed our 30 hour ascent and descent of Mt. Kinabalu - the highest peak on the island of Borneo and in all of SE Asia.

Clambering exhaustedly into the back of an SUV for a ride back to the Park HQ, I was elated to have made it there and back again. Even with my legs utterly bonking out, the journey was undoubtedly worth every hard-earned breath and step.

Jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Amazing. Magnificent.

These words barely do justice to the experience.

The trek from dense jungle at the foot of 'Kini' to the windswept granite jumble that is Low's Peak has left many indelible marks that won't soon be erased.

Especially haunting were the twisted pines among wispy banks of clouds near Pondok Villosa at 9,700 feet, the reflection of the full moon off the South China Sea at 4am from 12,000 feet above sea level, and of course the sun rising over all of Borneo - flooding the otherworldly landscape of the summit massif with warmth and a life-enhancing golden glow.

I'm humbled and grateful for both the opportunity and the ability to have taken such memories from, and left only my footprints upon this natural wonder of the world.

Stray Observations:

+ Speaking of humility, nothing crushes the ego like being passed by a little old lady portering a large propane tank up the mountain on her back as you hack and wheeze and moan and groan about your little backpack.

+ Ditto for all the skinny young and old guys who go bounding up the rocky trail in flimsy sandals with crates of beer and eggs to supply the rest house at Laban Rata.

+ They call the Malaysian state of Sabah and this part of Borneo 'The Land Beneath the Wind.' Technically this is due to its position beneath the belt of typhoon winds.

+ Part of me wonders if they might better be called 'The Land Beneath the Breaking Wind.' Seriously. I don't know if it was all the beer and the eggs portered up, the physical exertion, or the altitude, but I have never in my life witnessed more frequent or flagrant farting by multiple parties as I did during the final push up to the summit.

+ If the guidebook recommends ear plugs for sleeping, bring them.

+ Relatedly, mad props to you random Korean guy who crawled into one of the spare bunks in our room moments before we flipped the lights out only to let loose with throaty snores immediately upon having your head hit the pillow.

+ Apparently certificates of achievement are a HUGE DEAL over here as evidenced by the look of shock when I tell people I opted not to buy the touristy certificates peddled after you reach the peak. 'How will you prove you made it to the top?' they ask.

+ Pictures, perhaps. There are a lot of them. Check them out in the East Malaysia album on the right or by clicking here.

Observing A Different Kind of Easter

2010-05-11T05:20:00.005-05:00

From 10 April

Lilies of the Sunrise Service - April 2010

'Private'

'Personal'

'A Family Thing lah'

Three recurring descriptors of the prevailing attitude toward Easter here - from infrequent attenders to pillars of the church community. They stand in seeming opposition to the closing hymn declaring, "We Have a Story to Tell to the Nations."

I don't know that things are that different at home.

'Happy Chinese New Year!'

'Happy Deepavali!'

'Happy Ramadan!'

Even,

'Merry Christmas!'

And for Easter?

The light up letters announcing the holiday du jour over the main street in the PJ State neighborhood where I live are noticeably silent.

Why is this?

Why do we choose Christmas as the public face of our Christian faith - both here and at home? How did Santa Claus run down the cottontail? the manger eclipse the cross in our public witness?

It isn't like this everywhere.

I remember spending Semana Santa [Holy Week] in and around San Salvador a few years back: the ferris wheels and corn on the cob, processions and parades, streets covered with colorful sawdust alfombras [carpets] made by neighborhood groups depicting the images of the faith for all to see in scenes like this.

What is the difference?

Why do churches in some parts of the world hush-up when it comes to the days commemorating the central events of our faith - namely the Christ Event, while others literally flood the streets with color and song and story? Is it a Catholic/Protestant thing? Contrasting remnants of competing colonial powers? Something else entirely?

I'm of half a mind to try and figure that one out.

Someday.

The Bulldog Bites Again

2010-04-07T23:33:00.008-05:00

The Answer Has Been in My Pocket All Along - Apr 2010

For a while now, well-before this internship began actually, the lingering question in the back of my mind has been 'what comes next?'

Over the past couple of weeks the answer, for the immediate next step at least, has presented itself: I've been awarded and can now say that I will be accepting an offer of admission to the Master of Sacred Theology [STM] degree program at Yale Divinity School.

In returning to New Haven, I'll be putting my experiences from the field during this year in Malaysia into direct conversation with literature and scholarship in the fields of World Christianity, Mission, and Evangelism through focused coursework and a final thesis/writing project.

Although it delays my return to the land of gainful employment by a couple more months, this nine-month program will allow me to meaningfully use my time as the ELCA's 'first call' and job placement processes play out. Tentatively set to participate in the October assignment, I'll then be able to officially begin considering/being considered for positions and job openings - all with an eye to a May start date.

When I did the tassel-flip nearly a year ago, so quick a return to school was nowhere on my radar. Now I find myself heading back to Nutmegger country, again in a state of humbled awe and thanksgiving.

How did this happen? For those who might be curious, I'll post the opening paragraphs to my admissions essay below. If you aren't so curious, no worries lah.

With that, I'll sign off for now. Thanks for reading along and sharing in this good news.

All the best!

-p

-------------------

[From Dec 2009/Jan 2010]

It was in a Malaysian rainforest that I found my face one again turned to Yale Divinity School. A pastoral intern from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America assigned to work in a local Lutheran congregation in Kuala Lumpur I was there this September, in the jungle, participating in a leadership camp and evangelical fellowship/outreach event for migrant workers from Nepal.

One evening during the camp I was talking with one of the Nepali leaders of the Migrant Ministry Partnership about his work within that community. During that conversation he made, what was to my mind at least, an astonishing observation. “Here we (Nepalis) are, a mostly-Hindu people coming to a Muslim land (Malaysia) for work and somehow - somehow we find Christ and New Life in the process. This,” he said, “ . . . this is a 21^st Century Miracle.”

It is this ‘miraculous’ phenomenon, the transmission of faith within and between churches and peoples of the Global South/East, that has caught my imagination and sent me in pursuit of further studies, specifically a Master of Sacred Theology with an emphasis on World Christianity. It is a phenomenon that, for whatever reason, often goes largely under-reported or unacknowledged in congregations, denominational offices and institutions of higher learning across the U.S. and yet, as the ‘center’ of Christianity shifts further to Latin America, Africa, and Asia (see Jenkins 'The Next Christendom') and the plurality of religions and peoples present in the Global North increases, it is a phenomenon that will become increasingly important for the Church and its leaders to understand in the years and decades to come.

My hope in returning to Yale Divinity School for this additional year of study is that I will be able to build off of and complement the knowledgebase and interdisciplinary work I pursued for the MDiv and Certificate in African Studies by putting experiences from the field and Southeast Asia into intentional conversation with related literature, scholars, and (as relevant) previous fieldwork in East Africa. Vocationally I am confident that pursuing the STM would leave me better equipped and prepared for a specialized, ordained position with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America – whether that call takes the form of an internationally-minded domestic congregation, further global service, or advanced studies and the academy.

The Cat City & Climbing Dutchmen

2010-04-07T20:01:00.005-05:00

Where are the wooden shoes? - March 2010

I never thought I'd see anything more graceful in the natural world than giraffes breaking into an open run on the savannah.

That changed -or at least was equaled- when, in response to the sound of rustling foliage behind me and a lot of other camera-toting tourists doing the same, I turned around and saw a young orang utan moving slowly through the tree tops in the Semenggoh Nature Reserve. Swaying back and forth on top of a tree, the orang utan would build up momentum before reaching a long arm out to grab the next tree in a slow-motion dance across the canopy. It was incredible to watch.

The visit to Semenggoh was the final stop in a four day visit with Minnesotan friends to the Malaysian state of Sarawak on the island of Borneo.

Separated from the Malay peninsula by the South China Sea, Sarawak and its neighboring state Sabah are culturally quite distinct from the rest of the country. For what it is worth, in many ways it felt more like I was in Indonesia (with whom the island of Borneo is shared) than Malaysia and that their primary point of association with the mainland was/is a shared colonial history.

Arriving on a Wednesday, we spent the first night exploring the capital city of Kuching whose name (inexplicably) means cat in Malaysian. Thursday and Friday were spent on the South China Sea with proboscis monkeys and their comically large noses at Bako National Park. Saturday capped the trip off with the visit to Semenggoh and a brief stop at the Sarawak museum.

As with the rest of Malaysia, there was just so much to see, so much to discover, so much to experience (Zoom!) that four days was hardly enough. Still, it was great just to get a taste of it.

Stray thoughts:

+ There is a reason why the city of Kuching is named 'Cat.' However, it is shrouded in mystery. When I asked our cab driver why it is called what it is called he said, with a look of utter annoyance, 'My friend, you should have asked me when you first got in the car. I haven't enough time to explain it now.'

+ Orang Utan is a Malay word and means, roughly, 'Forest Person.' The Malay name for the Proboscis Monkey is Orang Belanda or 'Dutch Person.' Once again I'm grateful to be largely Danish/German.

+ For more pictures from Sarawak, Kuching, and Bako, go to the East Malaysia photo album on the right or click here.

Khmer Dichotomy

2010-03-22T04:26:00.006-05:00

From March 23

Landmarks & Landmines: Remnants from Siem Reap - Mar 2010

The contrasting images of peaceful courtyards and violent minefields remain etched in my memories of Cambodia. The tension between the soul-stirring ruins of the ancient Khmer Empire and the discarded bringers of indiscriminate death of modern warfare keeps a string of questions circulating between my head and my heart.

My compassion and curiosity have been piqued; this is a place to which I'd love to make an extended return if the opportunity ever allowed. There remains many stories to tell, wounds to heal, and much work to do among the people in this battered yet resilient land.

Fortunately, there are many other people taking up those tasks. Here are a handful that I'm personally aware of:

Khmer Legacies is an organization created by my friend Socheata Poeuv that is creating a video history of the Cambodian Genocide from the perspective of survivors. She is also the director of the award-winning, autobiographical documentary New Year Baby.

The Cambodian Landmine Museum, near Siem Reap, displays thousands decommissioned mines, bombs, and other explosive remnants of war collected from the fields and deactivated by one young man and educates the public and passing tourists about this remaining real and present danger.

The Mekong Mission Forum, a coalition of Lutheran Churches from the ASEAN region and beyond, is expanding its humanitarian and social service work such as medical care, feeding centers, and language/vocational education among those in need in addition to the continued planting of new churches throughout the country.

Fragments from Angkor

2010-03-16T10:21:00.003-05:00

Life in the Shadow of Angkor Wat - Mar 2010

Everyone who found themselves there before me had a variation of the following to say when they heard I'd be traveling to Siem Reap in the Kingdom of Cambodia to see Angkor Wat, "It is the one place I have ever been that cannot be overrated."

Having been. Having seen. Having climbed and explored. I couldn't agree more.

Be it the architecture, the immensity of it all, the exotic ruins, the complexity of ancient Khmer culture, the remote location, the spiritual 'thinness' of the place itself. . . Whatever it may be, there is something about Angkor that is both captivating and that defies description.

Needless to say, spending four days in and around Siem Reap and Angkor was a moving experience. Touring the ancient temples, the modern day town, and the civil war scarred countryside with my cousin has left me with a string of images and encounters - some in sync, others in seeming opposition. While I hope to tease some of it into a more cohesive reflection, mostly I'm left with a scattered series of thought fragments and scenes. . .

+ At 9 square kilometers, the walled city of Angkor Thom is but a small part of the Angkor region that covers a wider area than the city of London.

+ The central temple, Angkor Wat, is the largest religious monument on the face of the planet.

+ Of course my guide for two days went by the nickname 'Monkey.' Of course. Thank you universe.

+ The Khmer Empire that built Angkor was flourishing six-hundred years before Columbus was out there sailing the oceans blue and a full one-thousand years before my homeland, Wisconsin, was even a state.

+ TukTuk drivers are like the Ikran in Avatar. The bond between driver and passenger is for life . . . or at least the duration of your stay.

+ The countryside is still littered with more than six-million land mines, indiscriminate and deadly reminders of the conflicts this land and its people have seen in the not so distant past. What legacy have we, Americans in part, left here?

+ Wondering if feeling "like a chicken on a wooden cart" really is a common Cambodian phrase, or a 'Monkey' original.

+ It is the dry season now. Rice paddies are drying up and water buffalo are lacking in their namesake water. 'Monkey' says that in his home village a 35-meter deep well has run dry. People trek several kilometers to fetch water in plastic buckets and bags. Images from Iringa flash across my mind.

+ Korean tour groups are regularly mocked by the professional guides. Loud talking, roaming the ruins in large packs, 'Monkey' pointed out their curious tendency to stack small rocks of all shapes and sizes into precarious cairns.

+ Not more than 20 km away from the international cuisine and neon lights of Pub Street in Siem Reap, many villages still lack even basic electricity. Houses raised on stilts line the roadsides. Cambodian hammocks. Petrol in glass jars. Dogs. Children. Soccer Balls. Coca-Cola too.

+ Why would a chicken be on a wooden cart?

+ During 'that bloody Civil War,' as he regularly called it, Monkey described what it was like to lose his father, grandfather, and elder brothers during the Khmer Rouge's reign of terror. There wasn't a tone of anger or depression in his voice as he relayed their stories. It was all very matter of fact, quiet but honest. Was this resignation or resiliency?

+ Frog certainly does taste like chicken. Even better with the right sauce.

+ If a picture is worth a thousand words, how much is a picture with captions worth? Check out the 'Cambodia' photo album to the right or click here and decide for yourself.

Leaping Lions

2010-03-01T01:42:00.004-06:00

During the closing week of Chinese New Year, Lion Dances were still being performed all over the city. This set of clips comes from a recent performance at the Pavilion Shopping Center in KL's Bukit Bintang area. The performers bringing the Lion to life are an internationally renowned, award-winning team of martial artists.

It certainly is quite the way to ring (or drum) in the New Year!

A Season of Oranges and of Ashes

2010-03-01T01:38:00.004-06:00

From Feb 21

Lent comes to Luther House - Feb 2010

The following are a series of guiding images from the message I delivered in worship on February 21:

+ Red & Gold, Fellowship and Feasting indicate that this is a season of celebration and abundance.

+ The Black Stains of Soot and Oil, lingering since Wednesday, indicate that this is a season of reflection and restraint.

Oranges on the one hand, Ashes on the other. Prosperity and Mortality standing side by side. Both lay a claim on our identity as signs and symbols of our cultures, our creeds, and our shared humanity.

Into this mixing of Chinese New Year and Lent comes our text for the day - even more stark and bare than an ashen cross upon the brow. Through it we are led to the deeper source of our identity, to the Word and to the Water.

On Phuket & Phi Phi

2010-02-16T01:20:00.004-06:00

Adorned: A Thai Boat - Feb 2010

You know sex really is a hot commodity somewhere and you hit the target demographic for it (solo western male traveler in my case) when, 15 seconds out of the airport parking lot, the guy driving your shuttle asks if you'd like to listen to music and then proceeds to hit the switch that flips down a 17 inch HDTV screen from the ceiling of the van on which Thai go-go girls are dancing and doing their thing . . . theoretically for your *ahem* listening pleasure.

Accompanied by eyes looking back in the rearview mirror comes the half-statement/half-question, "Sexy, yes?"

Indeed.

Such was my welcome to Phuket.

While the island, like other parts of Thailand, does have its 'spicier' side, it is also blessed with a blissful location in the crystal clear waters of the Andaman Sea. Despite the best intentions of my driver, it was the sugary white sand of Karon Beach and the turquoise seas that lured me and kept me enthralled for 3 nights and 4 days - and well within the bounds of visions and expectations.

Arriving unintentionally in the middle of the peak tourist season, I blended right in with the packs of Russians, Italians, and Scandinavians who continually make Phuket one of the top tourist destinations in all of S.E. Asia. Although I was somewhat conflicted about being part of that scene, the tourism infrastructure in place meant that it was possible for me as a solo traveler to do things like a speedboat trip to the Phi Phi islands off-shore that, due to price and time constraints, would have otherwise been impossible.

Having studied abroad and lived with a family in Bali, I also knew enough to look beyond the show put on for the foreigners in hotspots like this and got to know Steve and Lek, the owners of the guesthou se I stayed at, a little bit. An affable and hospitable couple (he's a Brit, she is Thai) on my last night there, after I was asking about finding some good and authentic Thai food, Lek had me hop on the back of her motorbike and dropped me off at a hole-in-the-wall type place that had a deliciously smooth green thai curry.

More than the flash and the flesh hinted at during my introduction to the island, it was these latter acts of hospitality and warmth - short conversations, an impromptu motorbike ride, and great local food - that have me looking for another long weekend and an inexpensive flight for a return trip sometime in the months to come.

Well, that and the place is drop dead gorgeous - as I hope my photos can begin to convey. [To see them, go to the photo album on the right or click here.]

Plus, I'd kind of like to try my hand at taking a sea kayaking daytrip around 'James Bond Island' and Phang Nga Bay too.

Anybody want to come along?

An Orange Appeal

2010-02-07T05:22:00.004-06:00

Season's Greetings Chinese New Year Style - Feb 2010

The word for Mandarin Orange in Cantonese sounds an awful lot like the word for Gold - or so I've been told.

That linguistic similarity (plus the fact that now is when this tasty citrus fruit is widely available) explains how it became a symbol of wealth and prosperity during Chinese New Year and an important gift to share with one's family and friends during the season. This also explains why a dozen members of my congregation here in Petaling Jaya spent Friday night and Saturday afternoon sorting boxes of oranges, wrapping them in gift bags, and delivering them to more than 150 homes and businesses in our neighborhood.

See, having recently moved into a new location, the upcoming holiday (it starts Feb 14th this year) and the simple gift of oranges were used as a way for this English speaking congregation of Chinese, Indians, a German and an American to reach out and make an introduction to our new neighbors.

Sure, a church delivering oranges might not seem like a noteworthy event; but in multicultural Malaysia, where recent actions demonstrate how issues of race and religion can divide as much as they can unite, faith is a really tricky thing to talk about. Actually, it can be illegal.

Although they had to look for indications of Malay/Muslim houses (signs written in sacred Arabic are often a give away) so to steer clear of them, as they went door to door through the streets of SS4C congregation members found many aunties and uncles and families eager to hear that there is a new church in the neighborhood. Many were already Christian or had church homes, some said they might stop in sometime, and others said to come back when some of our 'outreach' classes and programs are up and running - apparently line dancing has a large following in our part of town.

While we wait to see the fruit that this orange appeal will bear (sorry lah, I couldn't resist), it is both heartening and inspiring to see the unexpected ways that the faithful find to follow the command to 'Go!' and 'Be Neighborly!' - even in a place as culturally thick and complex as Kuala Lumpur.

Six months in to the internship and still, every day, there is something to be surprised by and to learn from.

Happy (almost) New Year everyone!

Auction in the Valley

2010-02-03T06:18:00.004-06:00

Simple Gifts in Makambalala - July 2008

It sounds like I missed an incredible weekend.

A string of e-mails and messages from friends and colleagues in Minnesota relayed to me the details of the Tanzania Partnership Weekend at my home congregation in the valley of apples.

From them I learned:

+ Thousands of voices joined together, worshipping and singing in both Swahili and English.

+ A Handicraft Table raised enough money to help put roofs over the heads of the lay evangelists in Makambalala and Mapogoro.

+ Prayer cards were passed out with the names and stories of 50 of our brothers and sisters in Tungamalenga to build understanding of their lives and our own culture of prayer.

+ Confirmation students practicing stewardship announced that in one month they had raised enough money to sponsor a secondary student's education for the year and buy flashlights for students at Idodi Secondary School to study with at night in the hopes of preventing another tragic fire.

+ In just 15 minutes, following the 11am services, the congregation gathered for a Tanzanian style auction* in which more than enough was raised to bring Tungamalenga's new mchungaji (Pastor Naftal) and his wife to Minnesota in the fall and the congregation at large was able to experience another part of Tanzanian culture and church practices.

Half a world away, here in Kuala Lumpur, I still find myself being inspired by and inextricably bound in a web of relationships that stretches from the American heartland to the Tanzanian central highlands - a people who walk together Bega Kwa Bega.

Putting those stories from home in conversation with my current experience, serving as an Intern/Missionary sent by the Global Mission unit of the ELCA, I'm better able to see just how unique and powerful the companion synod relationship between Saint Paul and Iringa truly is. While it is certainly not without its significant faults and challenges, even the brief update from Apple Valley demonstrates the effect it is having in congregations on both sides of the Atlantic. As a region wide network of grassroots relationships linking 60+ pairs of congregations on two continents it still stands out as a compelling, concrete model of this mode of ministry I've learned to identify as 'accompaniment.'

As I near the halfway point of my sojourn with the Lutheran Church in Malaysia and Singapore and the field of post-internship question marks begins to become more immediate, these notes from home reinforce a yearning to return to that territory.

It isn't that I'm necessarily pining for the 'mystique of Africa' or the austere beauty of the upper midwest in winter, rather it is the sense of being part of something larger, of collective action undertaken by a large missional community that I'm longing for. Preparing to transition back to a life of professional ministry, increasingly I'm finding myself desiring to be part of a robust, world-spanning, relational culture once again - wherever and in whatever form or capacity that takes.

What is a Tanzanian style auction? In Tungamalenga, the auction is an extension of the worship offering; people who have no cash bring humble offerings—eggs, firewood, baskets, clay pots--that are auctioned at extravagant prices. "In this way, we encourage one another and show that every gift is valued," our friends tell us. [From the Jan 30 News for the Flock]

Taman Negara

2010-01-26T01:04:00.003-06:00

A REAL Jungle River Cruise [No Disney Animatronics in Sight] - Jan 2010

A little more than 30 hours after they landed at KLIA, my first round of visitors and I found ourselves seeking shelter from the heat/humidity in the small town of Kuala Tembeling. Respite was found in the form of a covered porch in front of a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that came complete with a baby resting comfortably as he bounced up and down in a sarong attached to an old set of springs hanging from the ceiling. We enjoyed a decent lunch of fried rice or noodles with a combination of meat and or veggies - pretty standard fare - before heading over to the jetty for our three hour boat trip upriver to Taman Negara (aka the National Park).

After the bus ride from KL, the leisurely boat ride north to the park headquarters at Kuala Tahan was the perfect transition from the hustle and bustle of a 21st century global city to the edge of the oldest tropical rainforest on the planet. The shrinking buildings, towering trees, and constant hum of the boat engine nearly transported me back 130+ million years. Bursting the illusion a bit, the red and white communication towers sprouting from the occasional mountainous ridge kept my cellphone fed and my mind partially tethered to the wider world.

Our destination was the Mutiara Taman Negara Resort - the only resort within the boundaries of the park proper (the other accommodations form a hodge-podge of noise and activity on the opposing bank of the river). Definitely a higher-end destination, it reminded me of some of the busier lodges and camps on the northern safari circuit in Tanzania in that, while surrounded by primal nature (cell towers and cross-river chaos aside) creature comforts were plentiful.

Though my personal druthers might veer a bit more toward the rugged and remote, given the mix of our group this was the perfect place to be; with the sound of the river and buzz of the darkened jungle, my Malay-style chalet and comfortable bed gave me some of the most restful nights of sleep I have had in months.

While we didn't have the time or equipment to venture deep into the rainforest (perhaps another visit?), we were able to take a night walk to an elevated hide for a little animal observation on our first evening, followed by guided excursions to trek in the jungle, cross the canopy walkway, and swim in the cool, clear waters of a set of cascades the next day.

All in all, it was a great break from the concrete jungle I navigate here daily in KL and a fantastic preemptive birthday celebration. What could be better than a couple days filled with nothing but clean air, fresh water, a couple leeches, and a bit of adventure shared with close friends visiting from half-a-world away.

While I'm glad to be back in the city and to return to a more normal routine after hosting guests for the last week, I'm also looking forward to my next chance to get away and to the arrival of more travelers in the months to come. Again I consider myself lucky, for this is truly an incredible place to be.

New pictures from Taman Negara and other events over the last several weeks have all been posted online, just follow through to the 'Malaysia' photo album on the right or click here.

. . . A Thousand Words

2010-01-18T06:23:00.005-06:00

This Picture Speaks . . . - Dec 2009

If you could see my face, I swear it is making that expression every day that I'm here.

Okay, fine. You got me.

Maybe I'm too 'Danish' or 'Upper Midwestern' to allow such expressions to appear on my climactically appropriate cool exterior, but that doesn't mean that internally I'm not as giddy as school kid on a crazy-high-tech seesaw about being here.

Sure, the heightened tensions caused by the continuing Allah controversy mean living in a state of semi-heightened awareness and the intrigue of congregational politics can be semi-maddening, but they certainly don't diminish the experience of being present here and now.

Far from it. In fact, they add to the rush.

Rather than being a maintenance-heavy museum curatorship, with its polishing of the orans position to perfection and tending to archaic liturgical minutiae, this internship is invigoratingly messy and real. Seeking avenues for dialogue and discerning the movement of the Spirit in the midst of and between struggling religious/racial groups and dedicated/impassioned individuals ensures that the work I'm engaged in is, as a trusted colleague and guide has phrased it, "transformational ministry in a [highly charged] cross-cultural setting."

Holding on tightly as the cavalcade of daily-surprises continues, I'm loving nearly every minute of it. Almost makes ya think there just might be some kind of internationally-minded, missional, congregational leader in me yet . . .

Fracture Point

2010-01-08T05:50:00.007-06:00

Singing Whose Name for 'God'? - Nov '09

A couple weeks ago I described the sensation that the ground on which I've been walking was little more than an a thin veneer, that just below the surface there exists a complex web of tension and discord of which as an outsider I'm only vaguely aware. Last night the eggshell cracked.

As firebombs were thrown into a couple scattered churches around KL in protest to recent court rulings about the use of the word Allah in publications among Bahasa speaking Christians in Sabah & Sarawak on Borneo and the Orang Asli here on the peninsula, points of fracture were made plain in the facade of 1Malaysia.

At this point I don't really have the depth of experience or background to comment on the events of the day, so I'll defer to the expertise of local storytellers and meaning makers.

Fortunately these actions haven't had a direct impact on either me or the congregation I'm serving. Apart from the news posts on Facebook and an early flurry of e-mails, in my immediate world there was little to distinguish today from any other day. . .

The main square in PJ New Town still had the usual collection of motorbikes. The Sweet-and-Sour Chicken in 'Kopi Oh!' still has the flavor I find appealing (almost guaranteeing that local friends would declare it inauthentic). The checkout lady at Tong Woh is still very much with child.

In short, externally everything appears the same. And yet, somewhere, something significant has shifted.

Welcome to life in Malaysia.

A New Year Blooms

2009-12-31T23:27:00.006-06:00

Color Bursts Forth - New Years Day 2010

I welcomed in 2010 in true Malaysian fashion - with an Oreo McFlurry, medium Coca-Cola, and a handful of Curly Fries I snatched from a buddy.

Suresh and I landed at the 24-Hour MickeyD's in the wee-hours of the new year with Alex, Sean, Rachel, Donald, Florence, and the kids by a rather circuitous route. He and I had originally planned on meeting up with others closer to the city center after the Watchnight Service at LHC, but that was quickly scuttled by crazy-mad-KL-style-midnight-traffic-jams. Subsequent improvisations were thwarted by wrong turns into and through the Tropicana City parking ramp and other ill-conceived ideas. In the end it was determined that quality people were more important than a celebratory pint and thus we traded Carlsberg for Prosperity and wound up with the gang under the gaze of a plastic clown.

It was most definitely an unexpected way to end an already surprise-filled year and kick off what is bound to be another one filled with new countries to visit, new people to meet, and new spectacles to behold.

For to us [For to the world]

2009-12-29T18:03:00.006-06:00

A Light Shines in the Darkness as New Doors Open - Christmas Eve 2009

For those who might be curious, the following are excerpts from the message I delivered on Christmas Eve. This proclamation of the arrival of a Child, the life and light for all, coincided with the first worship service in the new sanctuary at Luther House Chapel.

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Greetings to you from our Mighty God and Everlasting Father.

Greetings to you in the name of the Son – born and given to us.

Greetings to you on this night so silent and holy – this Christmas Eve.

Tonight we gather together in the darkness of night in an old building at the end of a largely vacant and empty street, seated beside and between friends and family, familiar faces surround us, filling a room that is unfamiliar yet wonderful and new.

Tonight we assemble, we worship for the first time in our new Sanctuary – a sacred space we have created and set apart for the sharing of songs, for the retelling of the soul-shaping stories of our faith, and for experiencing the living Word of God.

Tonight we recall the past, the histories and traditions and encounters that have formed us corporately and individually with an eye to the ways in which we have been prepared for God’s ongoing work in the World.

Tonight we remember and reclaim the story of our Savior’s birth and announce the arrival of a Word both Holy and Good to a World cloaked in the darkness of eternal night.

It is that story that brings us in as a worshipping assembly.

It is that story that propels us out into the streets, the Klang Valley, and all of creation. . .

This, then, is the Good News of Christmas Eve - not just that Christ was born, but that He is born, again and again, in our midst.

It is to this Good News that we, as a people of the book and the Body of Christ, must respond by bearing the Living Word into the World.

Tonight we proclaim, ‘He is here!’ “The Word has become flesh. The Word has made his dwelling among us. And we have seen his Glory!’

His coming is a time for celebration and joy indeed, as He fulfills the promises we have been clinging to over the Advent Season and all the darkened days of our lives. Over four long weeks, we reflected on ourselves to be a people in waiting, longing for our Lord’s promised arrival. Now He is here:

As some of you will remember, at a family gathering here in PJ we lit a candle for hope. In their presence I shared the story of a woman in Tanzania, at 103 and widowed she is nearly blind and utterly alone. Into this unexpected place, a mudbrick home of her own making, Jesus comes. Through the compassionate outreach of the Church, she is visited regularly, prayed with, and finds the courage to see the way ahead of her with the clear eyes of faith.

Tonight she celebrates the birth of the Wonderful Counselor that the prophet Isaiah has promised.

For to her a son is given.

For to her a child is born.

In the privacy of my own devotions I lit a candle for peace. I thought of a young man in New Britain, Connecticut - now a member of the church youth group. Coming from a fractured home, marred by neglect, gang violence, and drug abuse in his family, he entered the Church seeking asylum from the streets and found in it the Word, a new identity and a new life in Christ.

Tonight he rests calmly beside the newborn Prince of Peace.

For to him, a son is given.

For to him, a child is born.

Two weeks ago, among those assembled for worship, we lit a candle for joy. In the tropical heat we ruminated on images of cold and ice and longing. We spoke of being individuals and communities imprisoned, in chains, and in need of release. We remembered being Bound. Together. In Christ. with our brothers and sisters in the Cameron Highlands and all around the world. As prayed that we become a people through whom Jesus comes by our consoling and being consoled by one another.

Tonight we let out a loud shout at the arrival of our Savior, our Mighty God, who has come, who does come, and who has promised to come again.

For to us a son is given.

For to us a child is born.

Just a few days ago we lit a candle for love. Pastor Thomas reminded us that we are bound by more than doctrines and creeds, that the strong ties of this faith-family have been forged by love . . . a love that we shared through smile and song as we caroled from house to house this week. . . a love demonstrated by all of the volunteers who have been scrubbing and polishing and tuning and preparing this new space for worship . . . a love evident in your eyes this evening as we proclaim Jesus’ arrival.

Tonight we stand in silent and holy awe at the unconditional love emanating from our Everlasting Father who offers his Son so that all who believe in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

For to the world a son is given.

For to the world a child is born.

It is this constant birthing of Christ into the World that we celebrate this and every Christmas. It is in announcing the arrival of the Word into the World that we as Christians find our primary vocation.

Tonight we remember Jesus’ nativity in Bethlehem. [Alleulia!]

Tonight we declare Christ’s arrival in this Sanctuary. [Alleluia!]

Tonight a great light shines in the darkness of SS4C. [Alleluia!]

Soon we will be lighting candles.

Soon we will be joining our voices in songs of joy.

Soon we will be filling this space with light and warmth and life.

And therein lies our next challenge.

For if our candles are extinguished as we walk out the door,

If our voices fall silent as we depart,

If we keep this light and warmth and life to ourselves,

All of this will be for naught.

Tonight we celebrate, and this is both right and good.

But it must not stop here.

Tonight the Son of God has come to earth, here in our midst, the Word made flesh in the person of Jesus and found presently in his body the Church.

Let us burst forth through those glass doors like a choir of angels. Let our joy bubble up on the patio and spill over the slate gray steps and out into the streets, ushering in a flood of life that revives and transforms this place.

Let our light shine so bright that it reflects off of the silver letters that will spell Luther House and make our freshly whitewashed exterior a beacon of true hope, of true peace, of true joy and of true love along a row of darkened shoplots.

Let us go out . . .

For to us, and to the world, tonight, a son is given.

For to us all, a child is born again and again and again and again

Let us respond by singing, Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia and Amen.

'Snow' also included

2009-12-29T17:55:00.003-06:00

I Wanna Wish You A Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T07:38:00.003-06:00

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart and sharing with you a people's deep seated love of an unexpected Christmas Carol.

An Eggshell Veneer

2009-12-17T04:23:00.005-06:00

Between Mosque & Modernity - Sep 2009

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked by a congregation member here if I was feeling homesick at all or if the the transition to life here had been difficult. After a quick self-check I had to admit that I really was neither all that homesick nor troubled by the transition. Two good things indeed!

Malaysia, it seems, has been a pretty easy place to step into. At first blush it is a modern, high-tech Westernized wonderland - at least in the greater Kuala Lumpur area that I call home. The light rail system is efficient and timely with trains arriving on average every 5 minutes and 19 seconds (or so the computerized signboards tell me). My lack of local language skills has not been a problem at all given the ubiquity of English. The creature comforts of Starbucks and A.C. add to the sense of globalized urbanity and the familiarity of an omnipresent monoculture.

On further reflection though, I wonder how long this tranquilized comfort will last. The key phrase in that previous paragraph is 'it seems.' As I poke and prod and bulldoggedly dig deeper into life here I'm finding that much of what made my initial entry so easy is largely cosmetic, that the Western cues I've been using to orient myself only run skin deep, that the seemingly solid Modern ground on which I've been walking is but an eggshell veneer.

It is perhaps in this regard that my experience here differs most greatly with the time I've spent in Tanzania. There I started with a cultural landscape that was clearly foreign and yet over time became increasingly familiar; here it is the reverse as what I took to be familiar at first is actually quite foreign indeed. The differences that do exist here are far more subtle and it is in that subtlety that the danger lies - for it can perhaps lead one to assume too much similarity.

My subterranean spelunking hasn't really gone far enough for me to offer concrete examples yet. Mostly I'm responding to a growing sense that, like Alice, the further I go down this rabbit hole the curiouser and curiouser things will reveal themselves to be. As I continue to explore, the challenge going forward will be in sounding the depths of difference between things as they appear on the surface and the reality underneath.

Mission in the Marketplace

2009-12-17T03:49:00.003-06:00

From 7 December

Glad Sounds Opening at Starhill - Dec 2009

'Louis Vuitton is in Starhill. Bulgari is in Starhill. And now, Glad Sounds is in Starhill.'

With those words Bishop Philip Lok of the Lutheran Church in Malaysia and Singapore opened the newest branch of the church's bookstore in Starhill Gallery, one of the luxury shopping centers in Kuala Lumpur's exclusive Bukit Bintang district.

The opening of Glad Sounds at Starhill couldn't come be more timely or seasonally appropriate. Amid the annual holiday shoppers flooding malls here and at home and litanies of woe rising from pulpits worldwide decrying the pop-culture, consumeristic highjacking of the Christmas holiday, the story of this store's opening carries with it a subtle critique of the overly simplistic counter-cultural tendency to make Christ and commerce mutually exclusive.

In places like Malaysia, where for Chinese and Indian Christians the sharing of the Good News of one's faith with the Muslim Malay majority is punishable by severe fines or imprisonment and similar social stigmas and pressures keep curious Muslims from entering church buildings, shopping centers and store fronts act as a secular sanctuary of sorts - providing a safe place to explore and, at the very least, entertain the idea of The Other.

The anonymity and neutrality involved in the exchange of money for goods and/or services actually makes the marketplace an ideal setting for ministry. [If an accusing glance were to come one's way, a shoulder shrug and statement of 'Only Shopping' would provide an easy escape route.]Underscoring this main point, during the grand opening of Glad Sounds it was announced that the first customer of the new branch had indeed been 'a member of the majority religion,' to which those present responded with muted cheer - for a new point of entry had been established to reach out to that population.

Using the hands of businessmen and shopkeepers alike, God's work can now be done among the well-heeled patrons of Tiffany & Co. as it among those on the other end of the social spectrum like migrant workers from Nepal and indigenous populations of Orang Asli.

Seasonally Affected

2009-12-17T03:17:00.002-06:00

From 1 December

Winter in Minnesota - Dec 2005

Advent started on Sunday. I celebrated the start of the liturgical season and the new church year with a family here in Petaling Jaya. During the four weeks preceding Christmas the extended members of this oversized family all get together to share in a meal on Sunday night followed by a short time for prayer, devotion, and the lighting of the advent wreath. It is a tradition started by a father as his life was drawing close and that has continued on in the decades following his passing. The evening I shared with them was fill with joy and warmth and laughter.

As part of being/doing the pastor-thing, I was called on to give the short Advent reflection that night and found myself at a lack of words . . . seasonally and liturgically adrift.

The language and texts and symbols of Advent (at least those that I'm familiar with and that are practiced here) have to do with the flickering lights of hope, peace, joy, and love in the face of growing darkness or the warmth of promised and incarnate grace standing in opposition to icy cold storms of judgment and threatened damnation.

At home in Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Connecticut or in my familial homelands of Denmark, Germany, and Britain this all makes sense - the Word bound in language and symbols matches the temperament and temperature of the World into which it is proclaimed. The season within the church reflects and is reinforced by the season without.

Here in Malaysia, with the constant heat and humidity that makes the tropics more or less timeless, I sense a disconnect. The Liturgical language speaks of growing darkness and yet the sun still rises and sets around 7:10 AM and PM. The cold and the death that are ushered in with the first deep freeze are far removed physically, psychologically, and spiritually - replaced by repeating cycles of same-ness.

This felt disconnect reminds me, in broad strokes, of how deeply Christendom's historic centering in the Global North has affected its worldwide patterns of worship and its ways of ordering time. How coincidental is it that Advent coincides with Europe's longest nights and shortest days or that the Rebirth of Easter is accompanied by new shoots of grass springing up and budding flowers bursting open?

At times lately I've been 'geeking out' and wondering what might have been if the Church's patterns of worship were equatorial in orientation . . . how might the cyclical same-ness of the tropical environment be reflected the church calendar? or if it was a Southern phenomenon . . . would our seasons be completely reversed? as the Church continues to expand and center itself in the experience of the Global South, might there come a time when this shift in geographical space would demand a shift in liturgical time?

More immediately, and more practically, my challenge is to translate the tradition into this climate and this context and (more importantly) to discover how people in this place at this time speak of and prepare for the One who came, who does come, and who will come again.

On Singapore

2009-11-23T03:46:00.005-06:00

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

2009-11-15T15:53:00.001-06:00

'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?

2009-11-09T06:03:00.005-06:00

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

2009-11-05T09:44:00.005-06:00

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

2009-10-29T19:41:00.001-05:00

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?

2009-10-29T07:29:00.006-05:00

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.