Archives for category: outreach

Finally, finally, there is some good news coming from Afghanistan regarding the South Korean hostages who have been held captive for six weeks. According to Yonhap News, twelve of the remaining nineteen hostages have been freed by the Taliban. The remaining seven are scheduled to be released soon. Let’s hope and pray that the rest of the group makes it home safely as well. Eugene Cho has been faithfully keeping many of us up to date on this situation; DJ Chuang and Laurence Tom have also been updating.

What a terrible ordeal these people have endured at the hands of terrorists. And, as if they have not suffered enough already, it appears that they might face criticism and controversy when they return home.

Details of the deal struck between the Taliban and the South Korean government are being disclosed. From the Yonhap News article:

Seoul, instead, has promised to pull its troops out of the war-torn country before the end of the year, as well as prohibit any South Korean Christian missionaries from entering the country, Cheon Ho-seon, a spokesman for the presidential office, said in a press briefing late Tuesday.

Many could speak with more passion and insight regarding the political reasons and ramifications of South Korea’s military withdrawal, but my concern today is the prohibition of missionaries. Understandably, because of the intensely tragic events that took place in Afghanistan, the South Korean government would want to do whatever they could to ensure the future safety of its citizens. However, I can’t help but wonder about the consequences of such a decision. I’ll save my thoughts about mission work (and my disappointment with the Western media) for another time.

For now, it is enough to celebrate the good news at hand. Today, perhaps, the released hostages and their families can begin to live and breathe once again. We can stand together in joy and relief with them. At the same time, this is also a time to persevere in prayer for those who are still being held captive.

We have a really amazing bunch of youth group students here at our church. For our recent VBS, out of a youth group of fifteen, we had twelve of them helping (it would have been thirteen, but one was out of town for several weeks). An 80% participation rate… great stuff! I’ve been bragging about them to everyone I know :)

A couple of our elders wanted to treat all of the volunteers to a nice dinner at Todai on a couple Sundays ago — which was awesome! — but the restaurant didn’t open until 5:30 pm. So, with most of the afternoon to wait, we decided to catch a film together after church. We were this close to allowing me to nerd out over Transformers, but we got there a little bit too late and it had already sold out. [A quick aside: If anyone would like to join me on this nerd-venture in SD, please let me know.] So, we ended up watching Evan Almighty together…

While I must admit that I like most films, I really enjoyed this movie — as did the students and youth group teachers who joined us. I know some people have criticized the film for being simplistic or preachy, but it was lots of fun. There was one scene, in particular, that surprised me by how it affected me. Lauren Graham’s character has just left Steve Carrell, and finds herself unknowingly engaged in a conversation with God (Morgan Freeman) at a diner. Here is what God says to her:

Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?

Many young people want to be great in God’s kingdom — which is a noble goal. But we often send the wrong message to them by upholding bigger! flashier! cooler! as the standard for greatness. Maybe, instead of zapping us with a bolt of greatness, God gives us opportunities to attempt great things for Him (thanks, William Carey!) in our everyday lives.

For example, on Saturday, September 29, 2007, walktheirwalk is hosting a walk-a-thon to raise funds to build a school and provide fresh water “for children in Zambia, Africa who have been orphaned as a result of the devastating effects of HIV/AIDS and extreme poverty.” [h/t: Marko]. While I admit the prospect of walking 12 miles makes me want to take a nap already, I am humbled and moved to know that there are kids there who make this walk every single day to and from school. And that makes me want to attempt something great for God. Members of our youth group will be there. I will be there, even if I need to be dragged across the finish line. If you are in the San Diego area, let’s do this!

Preaching that we should always trust in God can feel kind of trite and condescending when done from the comfort of a sleepy Southern California suburb while yet another South Korean hostage has been murdered in Afghanistan. It’s bad enough that such a terrible series of events is happening, but I start to despair when the response of the body of Christ here is either deafening silence or outright hostility.  One outstanding voice has been Eugene Cho, through his regular updates and insights into this situation.

There is a time and place for critiquing and questioning this group’s purpose and methodology in their trip to Afghanistan, but now is not that time. When people are being murdered and held hostage, we should mourn, weep and pray — not stand on our comfortable soapboxes, point fingers and blame the victims.  It saddens me that a powerful voice such as Christianity Today barely mentions this tragedy — and, even then, focuses their coverage on critiquing Korean missionary efforts rather than sounding the call to prayer and solidarity.

Regardless of whether or not this particular group was there to overtly share their Christian faith, it frustrates me to hear criticisms such as, “Well, they should have known something like this would happen in such a dangerous place” or “They have no right to try to be there.”  Maybe one day I will share some of my thoughts about the shortcomings of Korean and Korean American missionary efforts, but I will say this right now — I have known many Korean missionaries who have given up very comfortable lives in order to go live in hard places, often without electricity or running water and usually without recognition or applause, simply because they are compelled by the love of God in Christ.  By the same line of reasoning many critics are following, the martyrs of Hebrews 11 should never have gone into difficult places hostile to Christ.

Lord, have mercy; Christ, have mercy.

Today I saw what looked like a father-and-son duo standing on a street corner holding up large signs that said, “Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life” and “Believe in Jesus.” They weren’t yelling or screaming, just holding up their signs for drivers to see. In fact, the teenager looked like he was kind of trying to hide behind the sign. No heavy-duty “turn or burn” messages… and certainly no mixing of gospel and empire, as depicted to the left. It takes some seriously willful ignorance not to realize the crazy ridiculousness of holding up a sign that says “Trust Jesus” along with clipart (or is it some crazy fundie dingbat that I haven’t seen yet?) of a handgun, tank, and anti-aircraft missiles. And is that a dude high-kicking in the upper left-hand corner?

Other than their theology, missiology, and methodology, the thing that drives me nuts about these kinds of signs are the fonts people use to promote their message — usually something clunky like Impact or Varsity (for that eschatological rah-rah flair). While I might not be as upset as some people are about certain fonts (Comic Sans, in particular), I believe that fonts matter. And not only to us font-nerds, but for legibility, to convey a particular ethos or vibe, and maybe even to get better grades.

It’s time to upgrade to “Repent 2.0” signs.

According to this article, the vending industry earns around $30 billion annually. While most of this money comes in fifty cent increments on items like Doritos and Diet Coke, there is a growing segment of hi-tech, upscale gadget vending machines. I ran across the iPod vending machine pictured above at DFW.

Stores like Bed Bath and Beyond often put impulse purchase items near the checkout so that consumers leave the store not only with the spatula or towel they originally intended to purchase, but also with a three pound jug of Swedish Fish and a four-pack of Stick Up Bulbs. Marketers have long-realized that by placing the Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs at eye-level for most seven year old children in the cereal aisle of grocery stores, they can initiate more emotional meltdowns (“But I neeeed it!”) and, thus, increase sales.

At first, I was strangely amused by the iPod vending machine. Does it come charged? Where would a person purchase songs for it, if the intent is to listen to it during an impending flight? Upon further reflection, there is something troubling about how easy it would be to drop $300 onto your credit card with one quick swipe. Of course, many travelers probably can afford to make such a large impulse purchase, and it is not the responsibility of vending machine companies to ensure that consumers spend their money in a responsible manner. But, still, do we need to feed our instant-gratification mindset anymore than we already do?

The process of spiritual formation is inherently, often frustratingly, slow. As much as we would like it to be true, we cannot simply swipe a couple of prayers through a spiritual card-reader and expect abundant life to be delivered via some mechanical arm into our outstretched hands. To paraphrase something I read once, we should not be surprised when people in our churches are self-centered and selfish when we advertise that we exist to meet all their needs. I certainly believe that people should find friendship, community, comfort, healing and love in church. But it is in that strange paradox of living by dying, gaining by giving, that we find what we truly need.