IOWA

"I sense that seeing the world the way God sees the world means, in part, grieving in places the world does not forgive, and rejoicing in places the world does not notice. It would mean, therefore, to live with a patience that culture cannot sustain, and with a hope the world cannot imagine." 

– Krista Tippett

“Is this heaven?”   

“No, this is Iowa.”   - Field of Dreams

THE talk has always been that heaven would be a place in which you were fully in the presence of God’s love.  And, hell, was the abyss of being separated from that. What would be that ‘name of a place’ should one, upon death, awaken to be in a place near a flowing river, full of people, living in thatched huts, eating sparse food, where there was no crushed ice or sign of fast food restaurants, where you slept on the floor, where chickens, ducks, dogs, and pigs roamed freely.  And no one seemed to know your language, such as a place called “Mae Ra Moe Refugee Camp” on earth, only that there was no “there”, only “here”.  This was it.  The place of your eternity. But if you started to learn the language, you would discover there are no words for “heaven” or “hell”.  You were only to continue to grow in holy wonder, make your own conclusions by learning to live by them.

     YES, with these people, here,  I could well be in the presence of God through their very being, their kindnesses. And yes, I could very much be in the separation from God – in the agony of being distant, not belonging, clinging to what escape there may be to find another “there”. But as in Sartre’s work No Exit, imagine there was not there. No border, only a wall of white (or was it purple?) that one found in trying to break out, instead of letting grace break in.

    AND, yet, maybe the people in eternity shared would have a word that was also in your language.  The word?  “Iowa”.  Maybe then we’d discover the word “home” for the first time.

 

 

Sails

A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships were built for.

And of what do recycled sails consist?  Of what tapestry of brokenness, mended stitches and patchwork? Don’t be afraid of raising your sails. It is the only way to grow somewhere. Raise them as you would a flag and let the Spirit take you.

Coming to America

"There was a time that I would reject those not of my faith.

But now my heart has grown capable of taking in all forms.

It is a pasture of gazelles.

It is an abbey for monks.

A table for the Torah.

A path for the pilgrim.

My religion is love. 

And whichever the route love's caravan shall take, 

that shall be the path of my faith."  - Arabi

On February 13^th, American embassy officials from Bangkok visited Mae Ra Moe.  In a camp that sees most families resettle in Canada, they were very curious to learn what the American staff would say about the new possibility of resettling in the United States.  Though I missed the hour long presentation at the football ground, many families attended, returning home with flyers written in Burmese and Karen about resettlement in America. For the next week, I heard more questions about America than I ever had here.  I have tried to be a welcome, to be a face of hospitality to those who might come live in America or another third country, a simple reflection of the welcome that so many Karen had extended to me. But I was unprepared to answer all of the questions. Here are some of the most common ones:

1. Are American people friendly?
2. How much does it cost to live in an apartment? A house?
3. What does American money look like?
4. How long does it take for me to become a citizen?
5. If I am a citizen and have an American passport, can I return home to Burma to visit family?
6. I have heard America is expensive.  If I couldn’t find a job, would my family have to sleep under a bridge?
7. Who will help me find a job?
8. What kind of job could I have if my English is so poor?

 

The Third Country Experience

Last week, my students participated in a two-hour simulation I designed on resettlement in the United States.  The goal was to give them an experience of what challenges, attitudes, and services they or their friends might face in America. The second-year students played the role of grocers, a clinic worker, bill collector, nursery school teacher, employment officers, factory bosses where participants built houses from legos, and a community college teacher. The results:

 

1. Many students decided to have 2-3 children and live in a 3-bedroom apartment.  I told them to imagine their infant children and represent each child through a 10-pound stone, but they choose small rocks instead, for ease over realism, but as with most teens inexperienced in parenting, the children (rocks) were left unattended at home or at the nursery school.
2. The families immediately used their funds to pay for rent, but rarely paid their food bills. Perhaps as food in the camps is always provided, perhaps because they weren’t hungry enough to remember. 

 

The Kingdom of Imagination

“The best definition of God is that all things are really possible”. – Soren Kierkegaard


Walter Benjamin tells this Hasidic story of wonder. In a small village, the locals were sitting together in a shabby inn one Sabbath. They were all Jews and village residents, with the exception of one person no one knew who was squatting in a dark corner at the back of the room. He was dressed in shabby clothes and many thought he must be a beggar. All sorts of things were being discussed. And it was then suggested that everyone should tell the group what wish he would make if one were granted to him. One man wanted money; another wished for a son-in-law; a third dreamed of a new carpenter’s bench; so everyone took a turn. After they had finished, only the ‘beggar’ in the dark corner remained. Reluctantly and hesitantly he answered the question this way, “I wish I were a powerful king reigning over a big country. Then, some night while I was asleep in my palace, an enemy would invade my country, and by dawn his horsemen would penetrate my castle and meet no resistance. Roused from my sleep, I wouldn’t have time to even dress and I would have to flee in my night shirt. Rushing over hill and dale and through forests day and night, I would finally arrive safely right here at this inn and in this dark corner. This is my wish.” The others exchanged uncomprehending glances. One asked, “And what good would this wish have done for you?” The man answered, “I’d have this shirt.”

Size Matters

“The church has gold not to store up but to lay out and spend on those in need, for would not the Lord himself say: ‘why did you suffer so many to die of hunger?’ – Ambrose of Milan “In an age of multi-million dollar mansions for God, it’s hard to imagine that our God has always preferred tents.” - S.C. The writer Shane Claiborne speaks prophetically against the tendency of churches today to be so focused on growing their numbers – in money, in programs, in people. There are good intentions behind those who want to contribute money for a larger church sanctuary, to install better speakers, even a large projector screen to make the message attractive and more visible, especially to the young. Can’t these actions be solely intended to give God glory? Can’t it be that through more money, more programs, and better buildings, that more people can ‘be reached’? But as Claiborne writes, maybe the Kingdom of God was meant to be small, with any corporateness being where 2 or 3 are gathered together. Maybe then, churches should always work to grow smaller. 

 

 I recall a story from Macarius the Great. He said a woman in his church community was eagerly wanting to buy gems to make the vestments of the priests more beautiful. “I want the priests to have the finest, all for the glory of God”, she said. Macarius applauded her intentions. He approached the woman and said he knew of very valuable gems that he could buy for the woman, but that she would have to give him the money and trust him. She did so. Weeks passed but the woman never heard from Macarius as to what gems were bought. She nervously worked up the courage to ask Macarius the whereabouts of her donation. He immediately replied, “O, I am so sorry! I forgot. Come with me and let me show you the gems that I bought with your money for the glory of God.” The woman followed Macarius to a poor, dilapidated house. Inside were people who the society had neglected – blind, orphaned children, widows, those with mental retardation, the elderly homeless, the couple in the corner who didn’t have any money for health insurance to buy their medicine. There they all sat around a table. “Here”, said Macarius, “are the gems your money has provided for. Here shines topaz, jade, ruby, gold, diamond…”  As buildings are built, perhaps human temples are being destroyed by hunger and homelessness.

Pharoahs Amongst Us

Raser is an FEC student. He is applying for a scholarship and admission to a school in Chiang Mai, Thailand. On the school's application it asks for Raser to put down a bit of his job history. He ponders what to write, having not been able to have a paid job before. And, in his own narrative, considers writing the following based on his experience in Burma, reflecting a common story of oppression: Recent Employer: SPDC Burmese Military Government Start and End Date: whenever they could see me, detain me; whenever they let me go, 2003-2006 Job Title: Slave Labor, Porter Main Responsibilities: carry soldiers food, water, blankets, clothes, rubbish, and non-military equipment for miles to their bases in the jungle. Salary: none Reason for Leaving: Once, I escaped; but mostly, they let me go if I said nothing, did what I was told, and was too tired to work any more.