Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Christian Calisthenics

In the good 'ol Episcopal Church I have often heard the up and down of the liturgy, the standing, kneeling, and sitting referred to as "pew aerobics" or "Christian calisthenics." Well, I have news for those of you who might consider yourselves high church and in love with such exercises. . . you wouldn't last a week in Taiwan.

This past Saturday, Elizabeth and I took part in the National Council of Churches in Taiwan Christian Sports Day (colloquially the NCCTCSD). We arrived a little bit late and walked in right in the middle of the opening ceremonies. Now, Taiwan is no world sports superpower, but they must have paid close attention to the opening ceremonies in Beijing. Each denomination (Lutheran, Episcopal, Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist, YMCA, YWCA) was lined up in military precision lines, all wearing denominational uniforms and chanting church slogans in unison (I am totally not making this up). After a few prayers where denominational leaders invoked the competitors to play fair and try to remember some principles such as love and grace, we all did group warm-ups.

When I say warm-ups, I mean they had a team of calisthenic leaders up front with headset microphones leading the entire crowd of 1500 out of shape "athletes" in deep knee bends, stretching, jumping jacks, and about 20 more minutes of intense aerobic exercise.

I for one was extremely thankful for the warm-up. After all, I was signed up to play billiards at 10:30am. And Elizabeth was signed up to play tug of war at 1pm. All I am saying is, I'm sure the stretching paid off.



The rest of the day I believe can best be described as chaos. After calisthenics the churches broke up into teams for basketball, table tennis, billiards, squash, and tug of war. I was the third leg of the Episcopal Church's 9-Ball pool team. Which meant I didn't play because the first two guys lost. Oh well. Victor, Elizabeth, and I played on our own later and I got to show off my concentration face.

The featured sport was table tennis, but the most exciting event of the day was tug of war. The tug of war divisions were split into men, women, and co-ed. Elizabeth and Victor (our friend from the cathedral) were put onto the Episcopal Church co-ed team. Let's just say short and skinny aren't necessarily the best reasons to put someone on a tug of war team. Fortunately, they had a great coach. Daniel, the campus minister at St. John's University is shown here demonstrating proper tug of war technique.

Alas, our intrepid band of Episcopalians were no match for the Catholics. As you can see from the picture, the Catholics (in yellow) were not only far more intense, there team was also entirely made up of farm workers from the southern part of the country. Our two rounds against the Catholics lasted a total of about 1 minute. They were a force to be reckoned with. And as you can see, the rope burns. The Catholics creamed every team they played against, taking the championship of all three divisions. Maybe next time the Episcopalians stick to table tennis. . .











at least this guy looks like he is good:

Well, that's all for now. Elizabeth, Victor, and I are going to the world premiere of an opera on Friday called the Black Bearded Bible Man. It is about George Mackay, the first Presbyterian missionary to Taiwan. It is also the first opera to be written in Taiwanese and English. It is being performed at the National Theater with the National Orchestra, so I hope it will be good. At the very least, it will be in Taiwanese so we don't have to feel bad that we don't understand.

Peace,
Seth

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Mission Envy

This week I have been experiencing two feelings I tend to avoid: envy and anger. The first one is really very strange. I think I am in the midst of some serious mission envy. And the hard part is, this isn't the first time. From the very beginning of our YASC experience, if I am honest with myself, I imagined us ending up in Africa.

I know, I know, this is so typical white kid wants to save lives in Africa. Which is why this is so difficult. Really, I swear I got my interest in Africa by honest (not guilt ridden) means. As an International Baccalaureate student in high school, my high school was extremely blessed to offer High Level African History. At the time we were one of a handful of high schools in the entire United States to offer this program. Our teacher was ABD in African History and it was her passion. Her passion for Africa bled over to almost all of her students. I don't know a single one who doesn't have at least some feeling of connection to this little understood but vastly diverse and rich continent. I don't know this to be true, but I imagine one reason my brother Nathan is studying abroad in Ghana is because of his own African History experience.

Another part of my mission envy comes from my absolute love of working in hands on care experiences. Many of the most joy-filled moments of my life have been working "hands-on" with adults with developmental disabilities at Support, Inc. and L'Arche Harbor House. I don't need an African experience to "discover" the love of God or simplicity of just being. I already had that in the U.S. and I can't help but want more. I deeply deeply desire more hands on experiences of love.

Anyway, I love reading the other missionary blogs. I especially love reading the blogs from Tanzania, Kenya, and South Africa. The missionaries speak of such vibrant joy and love and life. Now, I know life isn't perfect. Even if our blogs make it look like it is. I know there are very real challenges in every missionary placement. But just grant me this little moment of envy. . .

Now, in lieu of talking about anger (which I promise I am doing in a healthy way with family and close friends), I would like to share some of the sustaining things I have encountered in the past week:

In my interview with Bishop O'Neill at the BACOM weekend, he brought up Common Cathedral, a wonderful "homeless church" in Boston. They use the serenity prayer each week, because it's a good prayer, and because many people in attendance struggle with substance abuse.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

and Romans 4:16-21:

16 For this reason it depends on faith, in order that the promise may rest on grace and be guaranteed to all his descendants, not only to the adherents of the law but also to those who share the faith of Abraham (for he is the father of all of us, 17as it is written, ‘I have made you the father of many nations’)—in the presence of the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist. 18Hoping against hope, he believed that he would become ‘the father of many nations’, according to what was said, ‘So numerous shall your descendants be.’ 19He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead (for he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s womb. 20No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, 21being fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.

And of course:

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Do You Have Friends?

I am sure many of you have experienced this situation: new job, new boss, new job description. You come in eager to prove yourself and work hard, and you receive encouragement and direction such as "go and get 'em", "just be yourself," "give it your best shot." As you know, my job description here is to "begin a campus ministry." I was given the same type of encouragement and sent on my way.

Well, the reality of the situation is the major part of my work has been sitting in a food court at National Taiwan University with a card set up that says "Need a Listening Ear? Come Chat!" To my surprise (and delight), this card has been getting incredible response. I have gotten into a routine of sitting on campus 3-4 days per week from 11am-1pm (the lunchtime rush). Over the course of about 4 weeks, 12 students have been brave enough to sit down and chat.

Almost without fail, when students to sit down to chat, this is a lengthy commitment. The majority of the students talk to me for at least an hour. One student started talking to me and after 20 minutes abruptly interrupted our conversation to set a watch alarm to make it to his next class: in an hour and 15 minutes! So most of the time I only speak to one student per day. I think this is great. It gives us both time to really talk about something substantial. We are able to meander from the basic stuff (how long have I been in Taiwan? can I speak Chinese?) to the good stuff (how do Christians reconcile science and the Bible, how to best cope with moving to a new culture, the poor treatment of aboriginal Taiwanese by early Christian missionaries).

In previous conversations with people back home about my experiences on campus I usually start out by joking about how the first question I am usually asked is "are you Mormon?" This is a great conversation starter because I get to talk about why I am in Taiwan without any awkward transition into "religious talk."

However, the question that has really hit me hard in the last couple of encounters is "Do you have friends?" I am never quite sure how to answer this question. I sometimes say yes, I have friends in the U.S. But this always gets a follow-up question: "do you have friends in Taiwan?" Well, yes, we've made a great friend in Victor, a Taiwanese-American recent college grad at the cathedral. And Ingrid (featured in the picture with Elizabeth) has been a great friend, translator, and youth fellowship leader. But on the other hand, my experience thus far is being a missionary is a very lonely experience. In my deep desire to integrate into the culture and fully engage in the worship life of the Taiwanese Episcopal Church, we have made a conscious decision to not engage with much of the expat community in Taiwan (except those already in the church). The truth is, most of the expat community steers clear of the church, and certainly doesn't want to be seen talking to me in the food court.

Basically, I am sure that long-term missionaries are able to build and engage in very meaningful and deep friendships with their host communities. Over time, they are probably integrated in many ways into the life of the community, and treated as "members." However, I imagine there is always an element of being the outsider, mostly due to not sharing family, cultural, or linguistic histories. I am not sure Elizabeth and I are going to get to that point of "membership" here. And that is incredibly difficult.

The difficulty of not belonging and not having friends in the same way I consider my friends at Canterbury and St. Aidan's to be friends (sharing deep, consistent, meaningful, lasting relationship) has made me consider the reason behind the question "do you have friends?" It sometimes seems as if the question is related to another popular question, "do you like Taiwan?" This immediately throws me back into my first two years at college where having friends and liking college was pretty much the same question. In a way, I feel like I need to say, oh yes, I have plenty of Taiwanese friends, and I love Taiwan. But this is disingenuous. I feel like I can have a "good" (perhaps meaningful is a better word) experience here without linking the experience to my number of friends. In fact, I think I can be happy for a year without a group of friends. I see this experience as much more of a learning and growth year than social year.

Upon further reflection, I realized after hearing this question multiple times that it gets me in a tailspin of thinking about myself. Perhaps this question isn't really about my happiness, but is really meant as a cue to me to get out of myself and really listen to the students are saying.

Most of the students I talk to come alone. A few come with friends, but the majority who stay and talk for a long time don't really seem to have anywhere to be. In a culture where convenience is king and time is precious (must be studying!), an hour long conversation seems to be quite counter-cultural. While I try not to make assumptions about the students, almost all of the students I encounter are eager to discuss major issue in their lives. Many of them are dis-satisfied with their major (majors here are based on test scores, not on personal interest), and several see their major as a dead end in the rapidly declining economy. Several of the students have asked me about studying abroad and "getting out of Taiwan."

Should I be asking them the same question, "do you have friends?" I do not know how accurate my reading of the situation is, but many of the students I encounter are thirsty for friendship. Not the kind of friendship that jokes around but it silent when something serious comes up, but the kind of friendship that is born of love, a love for hearing the messy details, a love of wrestling with questions of purpose, joy, and pain.

In a sense, I hear God calling me into a different kind of friendship while we are in Taiwan. The friendship might not be going to movies, hanging out, shooting the breeze, but it might be a kind of friendship that many college students are missing. Perhaps I am called to help them discover the friendship of the church, or even more simply, a friendship that is based in service and love of the other.

So, for now, I can say I have many "friend encounters" in Taiwan. I love listening and talking to students. I hope they receive the same joy from this simple offering and can count this offering as a sign of friendship.

Love,

Seth

*The pictures in this blog post are from the youth fellowship outing to the NTU sports center. As you can see, badminton is extremely popular. The entire large gymnasium is covered with badminton courts. There is a smaller gym for basketball (for some perspective). As you can also see, I am a giant.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

In the Silence

Overload. Exhausted. Humbled. Joyful. Scared. Prayerful. Thankful. Excited. Relieved. Trembling. Anxious. In Love.
On Thursday afternoon, my Mom, Dad, and I drove to St. Malo Conference Center near Allenspark, Colorado for the Episcopal Diocese of Colorado BACOM conference. The BACOM conference is a series of interviews between aspirants for the priesthood and members of the Commission on Ministry, a group of lay and ordained people charged with the responsibility of overseeing and supporting ordained ministers in the Diocese of Colorado.

At the beginning of the weekend, the aspirants (including me and 3 others) were asked to reflect on a moment of joy during their day. I was extremely thankful for the opportunity to spend the drive up with my parents. Although I did feel some anxiety over being by far the youngest person attending and exacerbating the situation by being dropped off by my parents, I was blessed by visiting the very spot my parents met almost 27 years ago. Standing by the fireplace in the reconstructed lodge where they met as camp staff was an incredible moment of joy. I saw for the first time the very place my parent's life together was set in motion as I confronted a defining moment in my own life's journey.
One of the greatest challenges of the BACOM weekend was maintaining clarity about my discernment process in Colorado and my time thus far in Taiwan. I went into the weekend mentally preparing myself for the interview process by reading and re-reading my spiritual autobiography, psychological evaluation, and budgets lovingly and painstakingly made by Elizabeth. I was in essence attempting to recapture what I felt and knew at the end of my congregational discernment process, I feel called and ready to give my life to serve God and the Church as a priest. Up until this point, I had not truly considered what our time in Taiwan has meant in the process of discernment. In fact, I felt quite sure that my time in Taiwan has not deeply impacted my calling at all, but somehow was delaying or muddying up the clarity I had achieved way back in July.

The structure of the BACOM conference itself is easily the most intensive interview marathon (I hope) I will ever encounter. Thursday evening's pleasantries aside, the aspirants were in for a "trial by fire," as Sam, one of the other aspirants, put it. Each aspirant was given a personalized schedule detailing the 7 personal interviews and 2 group interviews, all to take place in the span of about 30 hours. On Friday I interviewed with a physician, psychologist, priest, spiritual director, academic advisor, financial advisor, and the Bishop. Easily the most difficult part of the process was not being able to rely on my strengths. To put it bluntly, each interviewer acknowledged my resume and writing skills, and cut through the BS, straight to the heart of the matter: is my calling authentic and am I emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and physical prepared to devote my life to ordained ministry. As the Bishop said at the beginning of the weekend, a Yes to postulancy for ordained ministry is really a No to many other things. A Yes means a life of giving and service.

In the great providence (timely preparation for future eventualities) of God, the interviews provided me with a first hand experience of the Holy Spirit working through my words and heart as I poured out in language (incomprehensible to me) integrating and testifying to the amazing work God has done in me over the past 3 months. My bottled up unwillingness to integrate this experience with my personal discernment was washed away and smoothed out in ways for which I can only praise and thank God.

When I woke up this morning (in Taiwan), I opened my email and found an email from the Bishop's office. I was informed that I have been accepted into postulancy for the priesthood in the Diocese of Colorado. I cannot begin to grasp where this journey will lead, but I believe this is a good time to take a moment and breathe.

After all of the preparations, meetings, prayer, travel, worrying, writing, reading was done, I was called to a place of great beauty and silence. In this place I allowed God to encounter me and speak through me. As I write this I am reminded of this passage in 1 Kings (19:11-13): "Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it(!), he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave."

Praise God!


Love,

Seth