We spent the weekend in Delhi with Peter & Heather Malakar, then took a 21+ hour train ride back here to Rajkot. Now it’s time to say goodbye and head to Tanzania. We are both sad to say goodbye to the Dave family, but also excited to be in Kigoma and part of the Kneppers’ life there for a couple months.
Hard to believe Christmas is just around the corner. Devsmita decorated her first Christmas tree this week and it was great fun to be part of it with her – including a shining star at the top, reminding us of the manger where our King was born.
It would be impossible to explain how dear the Dave family has become to us. Their friendship is a new treasure, and we look forward to continuing it despite the miles.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Inquiries
Everywhere we’ve gone in India and Nepal the question is “From which country?”. Most of the time it’s out of pure curiosity and nothing more. It’s like our question of “What do you do?” – but here in the East, it’s more important where you come from. When it’s a sweet giggling child who just wants to practice their English, or a young teenager who has honest wide-eyed fascination about where we come from, it can be endearing. In fact, one of the cutest things is the young teenage girls who practice their “Hello”, and then when I say it back, they giggle like they’ve been caught.
But unfortunately, many have also been tainted and jaded to see Americans as a source to take from. In one neighborhood, the children said “Hello-one-Rupee” as if it was all one word – a standard greeting. Another unabashed boy (and I’m not talking about the street begging children, mind you, but well dressed school children) TOLD me to give him ten rupees. An intellectual/emotional battle rages each time a young hand begs, especially in light of Scripture that tells us to give freely as we have freely received. Emotionally you want to believe that giving will help, but intellectually you know it will not. This was proven to us when we went to the Nepali village that as of yet remains un-jaded by tourism. We could see in living person the fresh innocence that these children still had and how zealously it needs to be guarded.
Perhaps the most interesting inquiry of all, though, was a Tibetan monk who stopped us and asked “From which country?”. When Jason said “USA”, he said “Oh, a rich country.” We instinctively bristled for what he would then ask for, but instead he said “I am from Tibet, so I have no country. You are twice blessed. You both have a country and it is a rich country.” He spoke with a toothy smile and then just walked away leaving us humbly chagrined.
But unfortunately, many have also been tainted and jaded to see Americans as a source to take from. In one neighborhood, the children said “Hello-one-Rupee” as if it was all one word – a standard greeting. Another unabashed boy (and I’m not talking about the street begging children, mind you, but well dressed school children) TOLD me to give him ten rupees. An intellectual/emotional battle rages each time a young hand begs, especially in light of Scripture that tells us to give freely as we have freely received. Emotionally you want to believe that giving will help, but intellectually you know it will not. This was proven to us when we went to the Nepali village that as of yet remains un-jaded by tourism. We could see in living person the fresh innocence that these children still had and how zealously it needs to be guarded.
Perhaps the most interesting inquiry of all, though, was a Tibetan monk who stopped us and asked “From which country?”. When Jason said “USA”, he said “Oh, a rich country.” We instinctively bristled for what he would then ask for, but instead he said “I am from Tibet, so I have no country. You are twice blessed. You both have a country and it is a rich country.” He spoke with a toothy smile and then just walked away leaving us humbly chagrined.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Fun with B&J
We leave Kathmandu tomorrow - back to India for a week before heading to Tanzania! A week that is already full and promises to go by as fast as this one did. It feels like we just arrived, taking in the mountains and the valleys that accentuate their heights.
We simply can not leave here without telling you about our friends Bea & Jan (pronounced Bay-ah and Yon). They are such fun and we have had a tremendous week with them as they've fit us in to their very full work weeks! They both work in Human Rights - Bea works for the UN and Jan for Peace Brigade International. Bea's work is focused specifically on the recruitment of children by the Maoist militia. Before that she investigated detention and torture. We have had several fascinating discussions with her in learning about the work she does, including travelling to remote villages to interview families whose children "volunteered" to join the Maoists. It can be frustrating to hear about the UN as a whole and wonder how much effect they can truly have when for the most part their decisions come with little or no enforcement. But as Bea shared, if even a few lives are better/saved because of the work they do, it is worth it. Hearing the real-life encounters brings a totally new dimension.
But they're not all work and no play ... oh no, we have had so much fun exploring the city by night, laughing over fabulous dinners, talking through life and faith and relationships, hiking out to Changu Narayan, and flying up to see Mt. Everest ... we are so grateful for all this week has brought, both in new experiences and new friendships.
We simply can not leave here without telling you about our friends Bea & Jan (pronounced Bay-ah and Yon). They are such fun and we have had a tremendous week with them as they've fit us in to their very full work weeks! They both work in Human Rights - Bea works for the UN and Jan for Peace Brigade International. Bea's work is focused specifically on the recruitment of children by the Maoist militia. Before that she investigated detention and torture. We have had several fascinating discussions with her in learning about the work she does, including travelling to remote villages to interview families whose children "volunteered" to join the Maoists. It can be frustrating to hear about the UN as a whole and wonder how much effect they can truly have when for the most part their decisions come with little or no enforcement. But as Bea shared, if even a few lives are better/saved because of the work they do, it is worth it. Hearing the real-life encounters brings a totally new dimension.
But they're not all work and no play ... oh no, we have had so much fun exploring the city by night, laughing over fabulous dinners, talking through life and faith and relationships, hiking out to Changu Narayan, and flying up to see Mt. Everest ... we are so grateful for all this week has brought, both in new experiences and new friendships.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Perspectives
Bhandipur is a little village on top of a hill ridge facing the Himalayan mountains. A four hour bus ride and 30 min jeep drive (by this I mean standing on a tail gate holding on for dear life while the wind splashes your face with reminders you’re alive) away from Kathmandu, this quaint little village remains relatively untouched and unaffected by the tourist culture so rampant in Kathmandu. Here Brooke and I were able to retreat for a day and night away.
The beauty of this little paradise, “where the jungle meets the Himalayas”, is remarkable. Here is the antithesis of the smog filled and noise polluted capital city. Our room boasted a view over the entire valley facing the snow capped mountains.
That evening we climbed up a mountain to a local Buddhist shrine to watch the sunset. While sitting atop the mountain we used our time singing praise and Christmas songs. We were both mesmerized by the beauty before our eyes and by the words of Psalm 95, “He melts the mountains like wax”. Hard to believe when what is in front of you towers 8000+ kilometers. Other passages like “God above all gods” likewise take on new meaning when you are sitting aside a now replaced shrine to another.
The next morning we awoke before sunrise and bundled ourselves out on our patio to watch the mountains change color across a sea of clouds covering the valley. We have indulged in time of contemplation and prayer over who He is and who He has made us to be.
And then … CRASH! and SWISH! in the trees nearby. Our eager eyes soon found that the cause were 3 jumping monkeys, perhaps also out to get a good view of their valley so early in the morning. Brooke spent at least 30 minutes silently willing them back into view. They eventually left and on a whim, Brooke decided to go out the front door for a “just in case they went this way” peak. What met her there brought her running back to get me. Just outside our room, amid tall and thin pine trees, was a true MYRIAD of monkeys (30 or more?) … playing, swinging, chattering to one another … and eventually getting away from us as fast as possible. All ages, looked like a family group. They mesmerized us as their only audience for the rest of the early morning. It was … “totally wicked!” (Incredibles).
We then took a hike from the village down – a steep, nearly vertical down - to the town where we picked up the jeep the day before. The hike took a few hours and led us through all kinds of green plants and trees. Again, stunningly beautiful and spiritually contemplative:
Most of the contemplation has centered on the bold nature by which Christianity has claimed itself as the only path to God. This stands in stark contrast to the many religions that share a “many paths lead to the same place” view. Thus leaving itself in the position of either being totally true or totally false. We have both been reading Ravi Zacharias’ book “Jesus Among Other Gods”. So far, much food for thought.
A second line of thought has focused on the concept of m-work. I think we both have a new conviction about it within our own culture, as well as the importance of strengthening home grown m-work abroad. No one understands a culture better than one born in it. Granted the message of Truth transcends culture but who better to share that message than your family? (family: a concept somewhat lost in the West. This includes but is not limited to brother, sister, cousin, uncle, aunt, nephew, niece, neighbor, friend, stranger in need, etc., but I digress.)
After scrambling down the jungle-mountain and contemplating He who made it all, we hailed a bus to Kathmandu and begin the trek back. My spiritually calm world shattered with the blaring bus stereo of the same repeating bad songs for the next few hours. We then got stuck in a traffic jam on the mountain road. Next was the return to the choking smog filling our lungs and permeating our clothes. Finally we drove past 2 motorcyclists lying on the pavement. It was a fresh accident – likely fatal. One of them was probably 18.
Life is loud, it traps you from where you want to go, it clogs your senses, it abruptly ends. But we who know the truth know that our home is on the mountain. It SHOULD shock us to leave our home and make way for the city in the valley. We are called to live there for a time, but to remember from whence we came. Perhaps more shocking is when the city feels as comfortable to us as our own bedroom.
The beauty of this little paradise, “where the jungle meets the Himalayas”, is remarkable. Here is the antithesis of the smog filled and noise polluted capital city. Our room boasted a view over the entire valley facing the snow capped mountains.
That evening we climbed up a mountain to a local Buddhist shrine to watch the sunset. While sitting atop the mountain we used our time singing praise and Christmas songs. We were both mesmerized by the beauty before our eyes and by the words of Psalm 95, “He melts the mountains like wax”. Hard to believe when what is in front of you towers 8000+ kilometers. Other passages like “God above all gods” likewise take on new meaning when you are sitting aside a now replaced shrine to another.
The next morning we awoke before sunrise and bundled ourselves out on our patio to watch the mountains change color across a sea of clouds covering the valley. We have indulged in time of contemplation and prayer over who He is and who He has made us to be.
And then … CRASH! and SWISH! in the trees nearby. Our eager eyes soon found that the cause were 3 jumping monkeys, perhaps also out to get a good view of their valley so early in the morning. Brooke spent at least 30 minutes silently willing them back into view. They eventually left and on a whim, Brooke decided to go out the front door for a “just in case they went this way” peak. What met her there brought her running back to get me. Just outside our room, amid tall and thin pine trees, was a true MYRIAD of monkeys (30 or more?) … playing, swinging, chattering to one another … and eventually getting away from us as fast as possible. All ages, looked like a family group. They mesmerized us as their only audience for the rest of the early morning. It was … “totally wicked!” (Incredibles).
We then took a hike from the village down – a steep, nearly vertical down - to the town where we picked up the jeep the day before. The hike took a few hours and led us through all kinds of green plants and trees. Again, stunningly beautiful and spiritually contemplative:
Most of the contemplation has centered on the bold nature by which Christianity has claimed itself as the only path to God. This stands in stark contrast to the many religions that share a “many paths lead to the same place” view. Thus leaving itself in the position of either being totally true or totally false. We have both been reading Ravi Zacharias’ book “Jesus Among Other Gods”. So far, much food for thought.
A second line of thought has focused on the concept of m-work. I think we both have a new conviction about it within our own culture, as well as the importance of strengthening home grown m-work abroad. No one understands a culture better than one born in it. Granted the message of Truth transcends culture but who better to share that message than your family? (family: a concept somewhat lost in the West. This includes but is not limited to brother, sister, cousin, uncle, aunt, nephew, niece, neighbor, friend, stranger in need, etc., but I digress.)
After scrambling down the jungle-mountain and contemplating He who made it all, we hailed a bus to Kathmandu and begin the trek back. My spiritually calm world shattered with the blaring bus stereo of the same repeating bad songs for the next few hours. We then got stuck in a traffic jam on the mountain road. Next was the return to the choking smog filling our lungs and permeating our clothes. Finally we drove past 2 motorcyclists lying on the pavement. It was a fresh accident – likely fatal. One of them was probably 18.
Life is loud, it traps you from where you want to go, it clogs your senses, it abruptly ends. But we who know the truth know that our home is on the mountain. It SHOULD shock us to leave our home and make way for the city in the valley. We are called to live there for a time, but to remember from whence we came. Perhaps more shocking is when the city feels as comfortable to us as our own bedroom.
Indigenous-ness
Pretty sure that's not a proper word, but it nonetheless encapsulates a new realization for me. I am reading Steve Saint’s book “The Great Omission”, which presents a challenging and honest re-evaluation of m-work. My response and thoughts are still in progress, but I can say this much – I have never before recognized myself as an indigenous person. Never before pondered that as one who is indigenous to North America, I am thereby the most natural to reach my fellow North Americans. The Father already has my “yes” to anywhere He wants me to be, even with my wider-open eyes of how hard it would be in certain places, so this is not a cop-out that would allow me to stay in my cozy home in America. It’s truly a brand-new thought for me – I am uniquely equipped to reach someone across a Starbucks table … I’d just never seen it that way before.
What follows is nothing more and nothing less than a stream of consciousness that my reading and experiences have recently generated (by the way, I haven’t finished Steve’s book, but do recommend it).
Somehow, our faith has become seen as a “western” religion. But in fact we are among those who were once un-reached and now are, are we not? I wonder if forgetting this has not allowed for a bit of arrogance (did the chicken or the egg come first?) in how the American Ch approaches “reaching the un-reached”. How is “un-reached” even determined? I don’t know the answer to this. Does it mean we have no recorded proof that the Good News was delivered to that region? People? Isn’t even that a bit arrogant to think that if we don’t know whether they’ve ever been reached, then for sure it means they have not? He said His Word WILL be taught to all nations. What is a nation? And does He mean all at the same time period in history? And what about the knowledge that so many will hear and yet reject? Are the places and people I now consider un-reached actually people who have heard and already rejected? For those who truly never have heard the Good News, how best can that be delivered? Is it through the models I’ve been accustomed to? And as a result of Paul’s journeys to the Gentiles (is that not what the American Ch ultimately is?), what advice would he now offer us if he were to pen the book of “Americans”? I expect I will step on a lot of toes with these ramblings, but mine are getting the first bruises. The Father’s heart for the lost is unquestionable, and as His child, there is no question of IF, but HOW to then seek ways to bring His Truth and Relationship to this world. So chime in …
What follows is nothing more and nothing less than a stream of consciousness that my reading and experiences have recently generated (by the way, I haven’t finished Steve’s book, but do recommend it).
Somehow, our faith has become seen as a “western” religion. But in fact we are among those who were once un-reached and now are, are we not? I wonder if forgetting this has not allowed for a bit of arrogance (did the chicken or the egg come first?) in how the American Ch approaches “reaching the un-reached”. How is “un-reached” even determined? I don’t know the answer to this. Does it mean we have no recorded proof that the Good News was delivered to that region? People? Isn’t even that a bit arrogant to think that if we don’t know whether they’ve ever been reached, then for sure it means they have not? He said His Word WILL be taught to all nations. What is a nation? And does He mean all at the same time period in history? And what about the knowledge that so many will hear and yet reject? Are the places and people I now consider un-reached actually people who have heard and already rejected? For those who truly never have heard the Good News, how best can that be delivered? Is it through the models I’ve been accustomed to? And as a result of Paul’s journeys to the Gentiles (is that not what the American Ch ultimately is?), what advice would he now offer us if he were to pen the book of “Americans”? I expect I will step on a lot of toes with these ramblings, but mine are getting the first bruises. The Father’s heart for the lost is unquestionable, and as His child, there is no question of IF, but HOW to then seek ways to bring His Truth and Relationship to this world. So chime in …
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