I can't live, if livin' is without you

Last night, my wife and I were asking each other some deep questions. Stuff like, "what was the most important lesson you've learned?" or "how would you like to be remembered?" All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I started to cry. Awkward right?

For the past year and half or so, I have encountered a lot of death or near death experiences. My mother almost died from an aneurysm, my grandmother who raised me as a child passed away, and in the past 4 months, I had been to around four different wakes and funerals. And finally, a couple weeks back, I officiated my first cremation service. I think all of that began to catch up to me. I began to replay my grandfather wailing as my grandmother was lowered to the earth. I thought back to the wife screaming, "I love you!" as her husband of more than 50 years was shoved into the cremation chamber. I began to imagine saying goodbye to my wife, or worse, her saying goodbye to me and it overwhelmed me. For both her and myself, life is unimaginable without the other.

I was reminded by the wisest man alive, that it is better to go to a funeral than to a party. It's funny because given a choice, I would choose a party any day of the week. But death has taught me a lesson I could never learn from a party: life can be taken at any minute so love your wife, work, and life passionately.

A Third Culture Community

The term third culture refers to people who have grown up in cultures other than that of their parents. They blend aspects of the foreign culture to their native one to create a "third culture." When I take a quick scan of Manila's landscape, I see an increasingly international and diverse metropolis. When I first returned, I was stunned by how many Koreans there were. Everywhere I went, I saw them: college students, little kids, mothers, retirees playing golf. The Philippines how has the 8th largest Korean community and the largest in Southeast Asia.

I fast forward 10 years from now and try to imagine the cultural tension these kids will experience. It's a journey that I'm all too familiar with. To this day, I can't seem to come up with a cultural label for myself. People ask me what I am and I imagine myself giving a smart alec answer, like "human." In all seriousness however, that's the one label I am certain of! Because when I look at myself, I'm sort of Korean, sort of American, with a splash of Filipino. I'm able to (sort of) fit in to all cultures, but I don't feel like I completely belong to one. This creates a type of tension, a paradox inside me. At first it was a feeling of superiority, then inferiority, then confusion.

I say all this to make a point about community. As I imagine 10 years from today, new ways of community will have to emerge to be in solidarity, and to serve this culturally ambiguous bunch. In particular, I'm calling out the church, which has been predominantly homogeneous and staunch defenders of tradition. Frankly, it's been marked by a rigid institutionalism, unable (and at times unwilling) to change and adjust to a constantly changing cultural and urban landscape. Both my guess and my experience is that the church has focused largely on itself: programs, traditions, attendance, and less on trying to understand the people they are trying to reach.

Here's where I think the issue of Kingdom comes into play. We can no longer view the kingdom as simply how many souls are saved or the number of churches we build. This is a very shallow definition. Rather we need to both broaden and deepen the understanding of God's redemptive work and our role in bringing that to the world. We have too much of an agenda and don't listen to people enough. Understanding people is key in reaching them. And this will be especially true among third cultures.

Community relief efforts

Perhaps one of the most wonderful things about a community is rallying behind causes. We were initially envisioning helping at a children's hospital but after typhoon "ondoy" (typhoon parma) hit and many homes and lives were destroyed, we felt it natural to be part of the healing process. We pooled some of our funds together, along with donated items, and distributed them throughout two depressed communities that didn't receive as much press or publicity as the others. We put together care packages consisting of rice, a few canned goods, crackers, and snacks enough for a hundred and fifty families.

To be honest distribution of goods as a one time event doesn't excite me. In fact I sense a spirit of competition and entitlement and less empowerment and uplifting of spirits. People get caught up on who got something or who didn't get anything. There's also very little relationship building. This was a special circumstance though because people's immediate needs have to be met after a disaster such as this.

We visited a community where the waters reached so high that it went passed the roofs of their homes. They simply had to run. For a moment I sensed their panic as I envisioned them climbing the 9 foot concrete wall with their children. Not having time to worry about their possessions but simply fighting to survive. I wondered how much trauma this had caused and the inner healing this would require.

Relief is the easy part. It's a handout. A month later though the buzz dies down. Communities need to begin rebuilding. Homes need to be erected. Who will stick with them as the work gets harder and the gratification is not so instant? What's the role of the church in re-building communities? I hope and pray that churches will continue to carry this burden as waters recede and life regains its sense of normalcy. If the church is to be fully human, reconcile all to God, and usher in the Kingdom of God on earth, then it must suffer alongside those who suffer.

A Personal Reflection

I'm a bit scared that Dave's leaving soon. With only four people who consistently attend the group, dynamics change when one person leaves.

Dave brings a sense of authentic sharing and inquisitiveness to the group. He participates fully and always listens. He is often very affirming. What happens when you lose this kind of person?

Writing helps because I gain perspective through it. I am reminded that this is not my group. If I truly believe that it is the Holy Spirit that sustains it then I must place my trust in Him. I simply need to be faithful and do the things that I am entrusted with.

Newcomer dynamics

Our group is pretty unique when compared to other small groups. We have communion on a weekly basis, value participation, and attempt to create an environment where ideas and discussions emerge organically. There is no appointed leader in the sense that he/she dictates programs or the direction of the group.

When a newcomer experiences this we're not quite sure how they'll react. We had this happen a couple Saturdays back and I felt like it changed the dynamic of the meeting. When you sense that there may be someone there who doesn't fully "get it" or doesn't voice out like everyone else, it changes things. We become conscious of that person and wonder whether or not he's doing alright. We also become more guarded because the relationship hasn't developed.

What do we do then when people decide to check out our group? What I don't want to happen is a full explanation of what our group is about to this new person. It happened to me when I once visited a group. They spent hours explaining their theology, philosophy, and level of hierarchy. The whole time I was screaming inside, "show me what you do!" Let me experience it! We would rather experience a community than be told what it's about.

Being secure in who you are as a group is difficult when you feel that you are constantly being scrutinized. Perhaps this is partly rooted in trying to retain the newcomer. This is rooted in my own insecurity. Accepting the fact that you can't please everyone maybe the first step I need to take. Surrendering to the spirit and acknowledging His work in all of us takes pressure off of me, or us for that matter, to convince that individual to stay.

Dave's Thoughts...

     It’s a privilege to be a part of this community.  In the past weeks we have pondered so many aspects of who Jesus is, what church is, who we are, and how we should live in this world.  Discussion has been at times abstract, and at other times, tangible and personal.  No subject is off limits if it is on someone’s mind.  We bring diversity to our common table, realizing that unity which anchors us all.  Seeing this unified diversity is beautiful as we each have our differences, but encourage each other in the things we are passionate about. 

     This is not to say we have a perfect community.  In our search for perfect community, I think we acknowledge there is none.  We come together because we are broken, tired, and spent.  We come to experience God’s presence, which is partly shown through the way we share each other’s joys and burdens.  In our dialogue, listen to one another’s story or ideas, and in turn we are also listened to.  Through this discussion we question, dream, learn, and grow together in Christ.

A Safe Place

A young group that meets weekly rides on momentum. I have been in groups where a missed meeting breaks the rhythm. I was scared this was going to happen to ours. We had an awesome communion two Saturdays ago but missed last Saturday because of appointments and events. I was a bit anxious about tonight's meeting.

As with all our meetings, we had communion. We shared reflections as we partook of the body and blood of Christ.

Towards the end of our meeting Kokoy mentioned that this was one of the safest place for him. How cool is that! This is why we exist. We want to create a place where people are safe and where they can be authentic and transparent but still be accepted and loved. We yearn to be known fully and deeply.

One of my prayers would be for us to have a missional component. I think it's important for the Body of Christ to reach out and bring life to our communities. It'll be a bit tough since most are involved in their own ministry or work. For now having communion on Saturdays and sharing our lives will have to do.

I often wonder if Jesus had community in mind when he prayed, "thy kingdom come." For me, I certainly feel a taste of heaven on Saturday nights at 8.