Picture a dance floor from world war 1. Now remove all of the people. Instead visualize 800 men from Pakistan and India kneeling shoulder to shoulder on the dance floor in their stocking feet. It is 20 rows deep with40 men across. Now on the left side in the 5th row, picture an old irish man, possibly a former alcoholic, sitting in an old dining room chair who can't bow with the others, but wants so much to be a part of the community. Finally, in the last row directly in front of you stands a 2 year boy who is looking at you as all the others kneel facing Mecca. The Imam on the dance stage in front chants the call to prayer. It is 2 pm on a Friday afternoon and all of these men have taken time off of work to earn "extra points" for praying in person in the mosque. On the left side behind a screen are a few women and other children who cannot see what takes place outside their space. As outsiders we are allowed to sit in the back and watch quietly. I picture our guardian angels standing at attention in front of us between us and the sea of backs and feet and covered heads that move in unison in front of us.
Following prayer, the Imam speaks. The words spoken are not militant, they are a call to keep new year's resolutions to use time wisely and to keep our commitment to God. Maybe he doesn't use the word "Allah" in deference to the outsiders sitting in the back. He speaks for 20 to 30 minutes. They pray briefly again and then they leave. This is repeated 5 times each day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year.
Upstairs our Guide gives a presentation on Islam. He quotes from the book of James and explains how faith without works is dead. Our religion is not very different from theirs in his perspective. He quotes again from I Corinthians. He is soft spoken and kind. If you were not knowledgeable in the Word, you might not understand the significant differences he quickly glosses over in an effort to be a good host and make us feel comfortable in his home.
While this visit did not make my skin crawl like the visit to the Hindu Temple, the lie of the enemy here is a trap set with poisoned honey. Islam is growing at an astonishing rate here in the US. It is now the #2 religion in the US replacing Judism (Christianity is still #1). As we debriefed later, we learned about a witness that God has left in the Qur'an that can open the door to a meaningful apologetic conversation with a Muslim. I walked away, though, thinking that until our churches learn to demonstrate love and community in the way we saw it in the mosque; the offer of a loving God and a certainty of heaven might not be enough to walk away from a community that prays together 5 times a day shoulder to shoulder and cares for each others physical needs. Would they really know us as disciples of Yeshua by our love for one another as we pass quickly once or twice a week in and out of a church building where we sit in our own chairs and rarely touch? It made me stop and think a while about what I saw.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Friday, February 2, 2007
An Afternoon in a Hindu Temple
We spent the afternoon at the largest Hindu Temple in North America (at least until the new one opens in Atlanta next summer). We arrived through the back door and were greeted by our tour guide. After removing our shoes we were led to an unbelieveably ornate room where every square inch was carved teak wood carved in India and shipped to Chicago. Our orientation included an explanation that the many of the shapes we saw carved in marble outside were images of demi-gods similar to our angels (or demons?). We were then led to the underground tunnel that took us from the educational building into the temple itself which you can see as the marble/turkish limestone structure in the picture. In the tunnel, there were paintings and posters explaining the tenants of the Hindu beliefs. Hindi is a monotheistic religion even though they serve thousands of gods. Those gods provide a gateway to the one true god who cannot be known. We heard how the statues we would see were human representations of what the gods might look like. They are bathed and clothed and fed 3 meals a day. If you serve them well, you may eventually move out of the endless loop of incarnation and enter heaven, or if you serve poorly you may spend a season in hell until your punishment is paid. The temple itself was so oranate that it was dizzying. It was like being in a marble forest. As the doors opened and the gods were revealed in their clothes for the day, others entered to bring them gifts of money and food and bowed down prostrate before them on the warmed marble floor. It seems so impossible that this is taking place in America today. My heart was broken as I prayed for each person who entered the temple to pray. The spiritual darkness inside the temple with the carved faces of demons looking at you (and if the demi-gods are the angels, who are the gods?) was oppressive and made me feel physically ill.
THANK YOU so much those of you who took the time and pray and especially for those who took the time to tell me you prayed. That was what kept me there long enough to be respectful and to pray for each one I saw.
It made me wonder what those who are captured by darkness must feel when they enter our churches which are strongholds of light. The victory of the Jesus's blood on the cross over the power of darkness is something we don't celebrate often enough. We take it for granted as we live our lives oblivious to the consuming darkness that is quicksand to so many we meet. We never know their story and have no idea that the nice man in the Mini-Mart or at the gas station spends his weekends worshipping the powers of darkness.
Friday, January 26, 2007
A Day in the Life an MIT
What is an MIT you might ask? A Missionary in Training.
Kenn and I are in Elgin, Illinois from January 20 to February 23 to learn be a missionaries. We are living in an apartment at the Training Center along with the other MITs. There are 17 of us in our class. There are 3 married couples with small children; 1 young couple with no children; 4 are single women in their 20s; 1 is a single young man in his 30s; 1 is an older married woman here without her husband, and 1 other couple is our age with grown children.
We start each day at 8:00 am with worship in the chapel. This is mostly singing, praying and reading of scripture. Our next session begins at 8:30 and is in a classroom where we are learning about the Kingdom of God from the Gospel of Matthew. At 9:35 we get a 10 minute break. For the next hour we have been learning about the mission, vision and values of our sending agency (future employer). We get another break at 10:45, then we have another hour learning about the specific things we need to know about our sending agency, like how to write and read a business plan, how to file financial reports or where other missionaries serve around the world. Then we break and have a hot lunch with the staff from the headquarters who work here.
In the afternoon, our first class is on cross-cultural communications. I liked this class when I took it in school and I like it here. It is great fun to learn about the uniqueness of each different culture and the things we can do (or not do as the case may be) to avoid offending those we want to communicate with. Did you know you should never ask anyone from Burundi for their name or anyone in France where they work? Those seem like such ordinary questions for US Americans. We break again at 2:30, and then have a class on spiritual gifts. After one more break at 3:35, we have orientation to a different department every day such as technology, or human resources, or facilities. We finish up, somewhat brain dead at 5:00 pm.
Our apartments have no radio or television, so we have entertained each other most nights sharing meals we have cooked and playing games. I've learned a new card game called "Apples: Apples". It is great fun! Last night we watched CNN in the lounge with a special report on human trafficking/slavery which is a common plight of refugees. It was very sad.
I'm reading e-mail during breaks and trying to revive my energy level by taking laps around the building (inside) and running up and down the stairs. I am not a very good "sitter". I'm restless even when engaged in the topic being discussed. The time is passing quickly. It is very cold outside (in the 20s) with snow on the ground--very different from sunny southern California but I'm keeping warm.
This is what it is like to be an MIT, at least for this week.....I understand next week will be different.
Kenn and I are in Elgin, Illinois from January 20 to February 23 to learn be a missionaries. We are living in an apartment at the Training Center along with the other MITs. There are 17 of us in our class. There are 3 married couples with small children; 1 young couple with no children; 4 are single women in their 20s; 1 is a single young man in his 30s; 1 is an older married woman here without her husband, and 1 other couple is our age with grown children.
We start each day at 8:00 am with worship in the chapel. This is mostly singing, praying and reading of scripture. Our next session begins at 8:30 and is in a classroom where we are learning about the Kingdom of God from the Gospel of Matthew. At 9:35 we get a 10 minute break. For the next hour we have been learning about the mission, vision and values of our sending agency (future employer). We get another break at 10:45, then we have another hour learning about the specific things we need to know about our sending agency, like how to write and read a business plan, how to file financial reports or where other missionaries serve around the world. Then we break and have a hot lunch with the staff from the headquarters who work here.
In the afternoon, our first class is on cross-cultural communications. I liked this class when I took it in school and I like it here. It is great fun to learn about the uniqueness of each different culture and the things we can do (or not do as the case may be) to avoid offending those we want to communicate with. Did you know you should never ask anyone from Burundi for their name or anyone in France where they work? Those seem like such ordinary questions for US Americans. We break again at 2:30, and then have a class on spiritual gifts. After one more break at 3:35, we have orientation to a different department every day such as technology, or human resources, or facilities. We finish up, somewhat brain dead at 5:00 pm.
Our apartments have no radio or television, so we have entertained each other most nights sharing meals we have cooked and playing games. I've learned a new card game called "Apples: Apples". It is great fun! Last night we watched CNN in the lounge with a special report on human trafficking/slavery which is a common plight of refugees. It was very sad.
I'm reading e-mail during breaks and trying to revive my energy level by taking laps around the building (inside) and running up and down the stairs. I am not a very good "sitter". I'm restless even when engaged in the topic being discussed. The time is passing quickly. It is very cold outside (in the 20s) with snow on the ground--very different from sunny southern California but I'm keeping warm.
This is what it is like to be an MIT, at least for this week.....I understand next week will be different.
My Story....
I grew up in Placentia, California about 2 miles from where I live today. I grew up in a loving Christian home where I came to faith in Jesus Christ as my personal savior at the age of 5 by praying with my mom. Over time, that day became harder and harder to remember. By the time I was 16 I had a much better idea of what God requires in order to be in relationship with him. He demands a perfect life, free from sin--something I could not offer even though I was not a bad person, I could not be good enough to please him. The penalty he set for missing the mark was death. Jesus paid that price for me with his death on the cross. I accepted that free gift and made a commitment to serve him. After high school, I enrolled at Biola University where I attended for 2 years without declaring a major. At the end of the 2 years, I married Kenn and went to work full-time while Kenn finished school. As I chose a job for that summer, I had 2 offers of the table -- to work at Biola or to work at a credit union. I chose the credit union solely because it had air conditioning which was an important consideration in warm southern California. I never dreamed I was making a choice that would be my career for more than 28 years.
Two years turned into 5 more and Kenn still had not graduated, and I was pregnant with my first child. At that point, Kenn and I both set school aside. Kenn went to the fire academy and began to look for a job as a firefighter/paramedic. I would not go back and finish my degree until more than 25 years later. Caleb was born in 1983. Betsy was born in 1985 and Jenni in 1986. I suddenly had 3 children with the oldest only 3 years old. Kenn was working 24 hour shifts. Many days I felt like a single working mom. Over time, the schedule of a firefighter/paramedic began to isolate Kenn from the community he needed at church in order to grow in his faith and his interest in spiritual things began to slip away.
In the summer of 1994, Kenn's 2 year old neice was placed in foster care and we moved her in to live with us. Andie became part of our family. When it became apparent that she was not going to be given back to her mom, I wanted in the worst way to adopt her. Kenn in his wisdom knew that a decision to adopt her would have been devisive for his family, but that didn't change my desire to keep her in our home. I had everyone I knew pray that God would change Kenn's heart. In the end, God did indeed change Kenn's heart, just not in the way I expected. In September of 1997, Andie was placed in another Christian Foster home. In October of 1997, Kenn was invited to join a medical short-term mission's team that was going to Nepal. While Kenn really did not have a desire to go, it was very difficult to say "no", so he said "yes" thinking that no firefighter would ever be given the time off to go during the height of fire season in southern California. I went with Kenn and the team to the airport because even as they checked in, Kenn still did not have the last 2 days approved to be off. We were waiting at the gate when his captain told him to go ahead and go anyway. I watched his face blanch white as the reality of what was really going to happen sunk in. He came back a different person, sold out completely to whatever God might want for him. He also came back with a mentor committed to meeting with him and seeing him grow in Christ. God did indeed answer my prayer to change Kenn's heart.
Missions became our life. Soon Kenn was leading and training short term teams. We became chair of the Mission's Team for our church. However, it was very much a Kenn-thing. Most of the teams were medical or construction teams and I was not gifted in either of those areas. I supported him and volunteered my administrative skills where I could. The turning point for me was an invitation from a sweet 5 year old missionary kid from Rwanda who wanted me to come to her house. I could not tell her "no" and the next thing I knew I was signed up for a Rwanda team. In the months that followed, Rwanda became an unsafe place for US Americans and my team did not get to go to Rwanda. Instead a team headed for Athens needed team leaders and Kenn signed us up to go.
In Athens, I participated in mission's activities like washing dishes and doing crafts with refugee children and teaching English. I made friends with a Kurdish woman and her 3 daughters and was invited into her home--half of a 10 ft x 10 ft tent. I began to see how God could use even me. I was drawn to the activity of God, where Muslim refugees were being relocated hundreds and thousands of miles from their homes to come to a place called Athens where God could open their hears to hear and their eyes to see His love for them in a way they might never be able to hear had they been able to stay in their home country. God was doing something amazing with refugees, just like in Acts 17:26 where the apostle Paul told the men of Athens 2000 years ago that God determines "the times set for them and the exact places where they should live...so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him."
We returned to Athens over the years bringing other short terms teams and even once for a wedding. Each time we asked God if we could stay and he sent us home. We refinanced our house to pay it off sooner and paid off our consumer debt, wanted to be ready when he called. In August of 2004, Kenn broke his arm and through that event was identified with an injured knee as well. The doctors determined that Kenn would not be able to do the lifting required for his fire department role because of the knee injury and God began to direct our path towards refugee ministry and Athens. This blog is the story of our journey.
Two years turned into 5 more and Kenn still had not graduated, and I was pregnant with my first child. At that point, Kenn and I both set school aside. Kenn went to the fire academy and began to look for a job as a firefighter/paramedic. I would not go back and finish my degree until more than 25 years later. Caleb was born in 1983. Betsy was born in 1985 and Jenni in 1986. I suddenly had 3 children with the oldest only 3 years old. Kenn was working 24 hour shifts. Many days I felt like a single working mom. Over time, the schedule of a firefighter/paramedic began to isolate Kenn from the community he needed at church in order to grow in his faith and his interest in spiritual things began to slip away.
In the summer of 1994, Kenn's 2 year old neice was placed in foster care and we moved her in to live with us. Andie became part of our family. When it became apparent that she was not going to be given back to her mom, I wanted in the worst way to adopt her. Kenn in his wisdom knew that a decision to adopt her would have been devisive for his family, but that didn't change my desire to keep her in our home. I had everyone I knew pray that God would change Kenn's heart. In the end, God did indeed change Kenn's heart, just not in the way I expected. In September of 1997, Andie was placed in another Christian Foster home. In October of 1997, Kenn was invited to join a medical short-term mission's team that was going to Nepal. While Kenn really did not have a desire to go, it was very difficult to say "no", so he said "yes" thinking that no firefighter would ever be given the time off to go during the height of fire season in southern California. I went with Kenn and the team to the airport because even as they checked in, Kenn still did not have the last 2 days approved to be off. We were waiting at the gate when his captain told him to go ahead and go anyway. I watched his face blanch white as the reality of what was really going to happen sunk in. He came back a different person, sold out completely to whatever God might want for him. He also came back with a mentor committed to meeting with him and seeing him grow in Christ. God did indeed answer my prayer to change Kenn's heart.
Missions became our life. Soon Kenn was leading and training short term teams. We became chair of the Mission's Team for our church. However, it was very much a Kenn-thing. Most of the teams were medical or construction teams and I was not gifted in either of those areas. I supported him and volunteered my administrative skills where I could. The turning point for me was an invitation from a sweet 5 year old missionary kid from Rwanda who wanted me to come to her house. I could not tell her "no" and the next thing I knew I was signed up for a Rwanda team. In the months that followed, Rwanda became an unsafe place for US Americans and my team did not get to go to Rwanda. Instead a team headed for Athens needed team leaders and Kenn signed us up to go.
In Athens, I participated in mission's activities like washing dishes and doing crafts with refugee children and teaching English. I made friends with a Kurdish woman and her 3 daughters and was invited into her home--half of a 10 ft x 10 ft tent. I began to see how God could use even me. I was drawn to the activity of God, where Muslim refugees were being relocated hundreds and thousands of miles from their homes to come to a place called Athens where God could open their hears to hear and their eyes to see His love for them in a way they might never be able to hear had they been able to stay in their home country. God was doing something amazing with refugees, just like in Acts 17:26 where the apostle Paul told the men of Athens 2000 years ago that God determines "the times set for them and the exact places where they should live...so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him."
We returned to Athens over the years bringing other short terms teams and even once for a wedding. Each time we asked God if we could stay and he sent us home. We refinanced our house to pay it off sooner and paid off our consumer debt, wanted to be ready when he called. In August of 2004, Kenn broke his arm and through that event was identified with an injured knee as well. The doctors determined that Kenn would not be able to do the lifting required for his fire department role because of the knee injury and God began to direct our path towards refugee ministry and Athens. This blog is the story of our journey.
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