Saturday, May 31, 2008

follow me

“Follow me and be my disciple,’ Jesus said to him.
So Matthew got up and followed him.”
Matthew 9:9

I recently read this verse and was struck by the simplicity and clarity of it. Jesus saw Matthew at work, collecting taxes. He called Matthew to follow him, and Matthew did!

The tax collectors were not well liked, as they collected everyone’s money... and maybe even some for their own pockets. There was nothing particularly special about Matthew. He was just a regular guy.

Until Jesus walked by, saw him, and said, ‘Come follow me!’ So Matthew went. No delay. No hesitation. No questions asked. Did he know who Jesus was? It wasn’t like the story of Simon, James and John, who caught many fish when Jesus joined them, and then they dropped their nets to follow Him. Matthew was just at work at his tax collectors booth. Jesus called, Matthew came. In Luke, it says, “So Levi (Matthew) got up, left everything, and followed him.” He left everything. I wonder what everything was... His booth? His family? Friends? His money? His life? All of the above?

He calls us to many things too. We see from the stories in the gospels that he calls us to: caring for many- healing the sick- miracles- outcasts- overcoming obstacles- the dead- hurting friends- prayer- servant hood- lepers- adulterers- the cross- the mountaintop, and back down.

And it’s important for me to remember-Jesus called Matthew, who was ordinary. He didn’t boast any special skills or training. Neither did the others that Jesus called and hung out with. So when I feel unworthy, unqualified, lost, and like there has to be someone else, I have to remember this. I can’t use these to disqualify myself from what Jesus has planned. He calls me, in the middle of my day- my work- my leisure- to follow just as I am. In the middle of whatever I am doing.

I want to be this quick to follow when Jesus calls. I am not talking just about the big, life-changing things that He calls me to. I’m also talking about the little, day to day simple things-

to caring for people- to being friendly- to giving just a little more when I am tired- to generosity- to giving up my time for something more important than my plans- to radical faith- to being intentional with people I love and people I have a hard time loving- to giving away my money as I am called to- to gentleness and compassion with my patients- to finding ways to serve- to hard work and risk taking- to seeking out the lonely- to growing myself for the sake of serving Jesus-

I want to also leave everything. I want to just follow- not worrying- not doubting- not wondering if I should- I want to follow God and trust I can be His hands to the world. Even when it doesn’t make sense.
Even when it’s different from the call of those around me.
Even when it’s hard or seems impossible.
Even when I have to leave things that I love,
or give up something I find important.
Especially in all of these things.
Because He calls me-
and what could be more important than that?

Saturday, May 24, 2008

running in eugene

the half (eugene, oregon may 4)... in prep for the full... in 35 days! yikes!

Friday, May 23, 2008

the topless mermaid

Lately I have been ranting... in my head, out loud to some friends who were willing to listen, to God....

At church on Sunday the message was titled, “Lord, save us from Your followers” after the provocative new movie which explores the collision of faith and culture in America. Basically it’s a documentary in which a guy named Dan Merchant, a follower of Jesus, travels around the country talking to different people about their views and stereotypes about Christians and Christianity, and tries to find out “why the Gospel of Love is dividing America.”

My ranting began when I got home that night and saw a short clip on the evening news. Starbucks is going downhill, it said, and is attempting to get back to the basics of coffee. This involves switching back to it’s original logo, the oh-so-controversial one that it began with when it originally opened in Seattle in 1971. The original logo has not only the famous green mermaid face which adorns every paper cup, but also her topless body and two tails. “Many Christian groups are protesting this decision,” it reported, “and have decided to boycott Starbucks as a result.” I couldn’t believe it! REALLY?! A tiny cartoon topless mermaid on a paper cup is now something that is worth protesting?! I guarantee that the average customer doesn’t even notice the difference, but that isn’t the point, is it? America is at war, thousands have died recently in natural disasters in Asia, there are homeless on the street of every city.... and Christian groups have chosen to protest the topless mermaid!

Many followers of Jesus today are hesitant to use the word “Christian” to describe themselves. I am one of them. It’s not that I am ashamed or embarrassed to follow Jesus, it’s that what many unbelievers associate with the word Christian, I don’t always identify with.

“Christians” to many, are ultra conservative and closed minded. They judge people who don’t have the same views as them. They don’t have fun because they don’t drink alcohol, don’t dance, and judge those who do. They are boring. They are anti-gay, anti-abortion, and anti-feminist. They stand on the street corners and shouting about going to hell if you don’t follow Jesus. They’ve got to be a bit crazy, right? They think that they have everything “all right,” and everyone else has it “all wrong.” And now they find Starbucks too provocative.

Of course, not everyone who follows Jesus is closed minded, conservative, or agrees with my above statements, but I think you understand my point. Yes, these are stereotypes. Yet they have hurt a lot of people.

The pastor quoted St. Augustine, who said, “The Church is a whore, but she’s still my mother.” I thought this was an intense statement, and I found it fascinating the more I thought about it. It’s true. The church has been unfaithful, and hurt people in the process. It has often not called it’s people to a more countercultural way of thinking. Those who love God have often damaged His good name by their mistakes. God’s children are not living up to what they have been called to.

Yet, we need the church. The church brings us back to the beginning; “she” has taught us about Jesus. The Bible says Christ loves the church and gave himself for it. Through the church we grow together as the kingdom of God on earth. We grow together in community, which Jesus says is important. We hold each other accountable, we support each other, worship together, and we break bread and are reminded that Christ died for us. Yet, we must not confuse the organization of church with the kingdom of God. The organization will fall, as we are fallen. Yet the Kingdom is the way we were meant to live, what God has ultimately called us to. This is a difference, which we cannot confuse. We must form the organization, but only the things that we do for the kingdom are what matter.

But what really is my point, you might ask?
Well, in my process of ranting, I was humbled.
Sure, I would not be part of the Christian group protesting the topless mermaid. I think it is ridiculous. I think that it takes away from some things that REALLY matter to Jesus. I think that there are plenty of things that He cares so much more about. This silly protest made me angry.

But I am a part of this fallen church. I have been unfaithful to God, and haven’t lived up to what He has called me to. Who am I to judge?! Here I am, angry at these Christians for standing up for something that matters to them. I am far from perfect. I have done plenty of things that cause Jesus pain. I have neglected to stand up for things that really matter. Isn’t it all the same?

As I thought about this, Matthew chapter 7 came to mind. I don’t think Jesus could make it any more obvious or clear. I think anyone, both those who follow Him and those who don’t, might identify with what Jesus has to say here...

 "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.” (Matthew 7:1-5).

For those who don’t follow Jesus... we all really aren’t what you might think of when you think of the Christian stereotype. Really. Ask questions, hear more of the story. I’m sorry if you have been hurt or judged by a Christian. We all mess up. We have been given grace to start over.

For those who follow Jesus... let’s remember those who don’t...as well as those who do...not in judgment, but as our brothers and sisters who each have their own story, a past we may be unaware of, hurts we don’t know about, and a story to tell about where life has taken them. We may understand it, or we may not- but I try to remember that the judgment is not up to me.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

it's not so far away

Below are thoughts from my friend Tim, in his post entitled
CAMBODIA: SEATTLE REINTEGRATION, at
http://timmatsui.com/blog/2008/03/21/seattle-reintegration/

When I read this blog entry for the first time, I cried. I cried because I understood some of what he wrote about because I have seen it. I cried for the exploited women and children of Cambodia. And I cried because I am continually inspired there are people who care enough to speak out, to leave the familiar and comfortable to travel and investigate what goes on in some of the darkest corners of the world. Indeed, there is hope for the future.

I am inspired by those who give up their time, money, resources, and reputations in order to learn firsthand, and then in turn spend their time telling the stories of the oppressed.

TIm speaks in this blog of his experiences working with local anti-trafficking and other NGOs in Phnom Penh, those he worked with, and the emotions of getting to know the victims of these crimes, and the jabbing knife that hits your heart and stomach when faced with friends and strangers who don’t want to hear about it because it’s too painful.

We agreed, though, that it is important to share these stories anyway.
I found that I identified deeply with many of his thoughts in this post, and think that he relays them beautifully. He gave me permission to share them with you. Please check out his blog for further inspiration and information.

“What is our capacity to understand? What is just another day in Cambodia, Nigeria, Burma, Somalia; what is just another day when you live it? My stories are nothing compared to cataloging corpses for a genocide trial; nothing compared to the everyday life of kicking in doors, shooting people and getting shot at; nothing compared to the experiences of some of the people I’ve met.

Yet by my second night in Seattle I’d already had moments where I’d stare into the past and start speaking about something I saw. I often falter when I do this, snapping back to the present to find concerned looks of people whose evening I might have spoiled. In Cambodia, it’s just another day.”

“Phnom Penh is rich with stories, as are many other parts of the developing world. Roslyn is going to another UN post in Kandahar. Gillian to Sri Lanka. Romy is thinking about Africa. Others are re-upping their contracts, staying another year; things in Phnom Penh are mellowing out, creature comforts more prolific, but there is no shortage of work for the well intentioned. It’s just a little less likely you’ll be shot off your motorbike, fight a second assailant, then drive off with bullet holes in your forearm and ass. It sounds odd, but it happens.”

“Sometimes I wonder what people really want to hear. I might reply “intense, frustrating, emotional, beautiful, satisfying” and smile that empty smile. Because maybe in that moment I’m thinking of the story about victims of acid attack. It’s about the stench of burned flesh; the sound of rapid, shallow breath; the sight of a semiconscious woman and the deflated, resigned look of her adult children. It’s about her grand daughter, who at three years died in the attack. Five days later the woman died too.
It makes me think about Cambodians as victims, but also Cambodians as survivors. There are some who seek to heal, to move into that realm where trauma no longer controls them. I made portraits of acid attack survivors, of women so scarred it was difficult to look. But the more time we were together, the more I saw their confidence as survivors. They laugh, they flirt, they are feminine, they will look you intently in the eye–those who still have them–as if to say “I am a person, see me as one.”

“I know some people don’t like the intensity and immediacy of this kind of experience; I think it’s offensive that I might expect others to want it. Not everyone wants to face the frustration, bureaucracy, religion, corruption, or the feeling of impotence in the face of great need. And who am I to judge? I’m still on the edge, peering in. Indeed, it would be easier for me to check out, to work a ‘regular’ job, to challenge myself with seemingly important social dilemmas, financial gains or athletic pursuits. Here, in America, it’s hard to see your impact and much easier not to care.
But I met a rescued girl whose brother was sold for labor by her mother to pay the girl’s “debt” now that she’s not turning tricks at the brothel. At a shelter a teenage sex trafficking victim held me in goodbye; just as I was beginning to feel uncomfortable she looked up and said “do not forget about us.” And yet another girl, who always put me at arm’s length, ran to her room at the last moment. She came back with the tackiest pink rose in a sea of fiber optics. It now sits on display in my living room, flashing its multi-hued colors.”

“I watched a village chief, proud of his TV, proud to feed me the fish he caught, brush his teeth in water full of fecal contaminant. There was the couple, forcibly relocated by the government, who showed me their wedding portrait. It hung in a palm-frond hovel squeezed into rows of similar shacks.
And then there are the people committed to the betterment of others–simply because. The younger, the more idealistic, but even the jaded and cynical seem to keep at it. When “Cambodia Wins Again” they get back up, brush off the red dust, and go for another round. They throw themselves at the world, they do some good, but ultimately get spit back, scarred from the fight. It could be hopeless, except in those moments one makes a difference. And that is the immediacy; there are people willingly fighting for survival, for justice, for opportunity. The difficulties are complex, but there is hope, there is success, and there is more we can do. Now, in this moment.”

“I am spinning down, readjusting to what “normal” is here in the States, and sifting through all that is swirling in my head. As I struggle to produce a coherent story I realize I float between two places: on one side are the people who cannot engage in the reality of Cambodia–it’s too much–and on the other are people who live a greater horror every day, casually, and for them these stories are inconsequential.”

Sunday, May 11, 2008

how many stops was that?!

MOM~
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!
Just a photo reminder of the most fun we had this past year....
(may I mention that the only stop that was MY idea was the one in the mountains?!)
I LOVE YOU!




Thursday, May 8, 2008