family time

two parents. my five siblings. five in-laws. eight nephews. two nieces. two buns in one oven (twins!).

and no snow. alright!

it's family christmas at my brother's place in hawaii this year, and i'm flying out in the morning for the island of kauai.

here are a few pictures from the summer i spent there in 2006.


and the family picture from last year.

halfway

after completing five final exams in three days, i'm finished with my third semester at CTS and halfway thru my program. alright!

lest i be tempted to dream of the power of the m.div., here's a quote from henri nouwen whose words are like gold (not to be confused with neal plantinga's words which are like honey).

The temptation to consider power an apt instrument for the proclamation of the Gospel is the greatest of all. We keep hearing from others, as well as saying to ourselves, that having power--provided it is used in the service of God and your fellow human beings--is a good thing. With this rationalization, crusades took place; inquisitions were organized; Indians were enslaved; positions of great influence were desired; episcopal palaces, splendid cathedrals, and opulent seminaries were built; and much more moral manipulation of conscience was engaged in. Every time we see a major crisis in the history of the church, such as the Great Schism of the eleventh century, the Reformation of the sixteenth century, or the immense secularization of the twentieth century, we always see that a major cause of rupture is the power excercised by those who claim to be follows of the poor and powerless Jesus.

What makes the temptation of power so seemingly irresistible? Maybe it is that power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love.

Henri Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (New York: Crossroad, 1989), 76-77.

christ(the world)mas

last weekend was the annual Christmas Around the World celebration at the seminary. everyone brings ethnic foods (i brought my grandma's apple pie) and we enjoy performances from the global traditions represented at CTS.

the canadians entertained with a version of the 12 days of christmas.


the korean choir wowed us as usual.

we watched.
and we ate. this little girl is my neighbor.


what always strikes me at events like this is that there is generally no specific representation of american culture. sure, the whole event is rooted in american culture. we arrive on american time; we sit in an american way; we eat in an american way; we speak in english; and more. however, when it comes to the program, the only american representation was a clip from a charlie brown christmas. i mentioned this lack of american representation in the program to someone afterward, and the individual responded, "isn't it great?" another person eating at my table remarked between bites of ethiopian injera (bread) and indonesian curry, "i wish we'd leave the american food out and just bring this stuff. it's so good!" and it is.

or is it? i love multiculturalism; i love people and foods and places from all over the world. however, comments like these make me wonder.

it reminds me of a time a few years ago when i spent the night in the sahara desert in a bedouin camp near the egyptian/lybian border. the bedouin have adapted to tourism and allow groups of people to stay with them out in the desert. i was there with a group of about 25 american college students, and also staying with the bedouin that night were a group of about a dozen egyptian college students. when the sun went down and a deep chill settled over the camp, we all gathered around the fire, and we shared songs with each other--at least, we tried to. the egyptians seemed to be able to begin a song and almost instantly have the entire group join in; they all knew it. then, we americans would try. someone would start, but only a few people knew it. then someone would start another one with similar success. our musical influences were so varied that we couldn't sing together. the only songs that we were able to sing together successfully were songs from junior high (nysnc, britney spears, backstreet boys--all of which, the egyptians also knew) and "jesus songs," as a friend of mine put it, either repetitive praise and worship songs or the sunday school variety.

i've never quite known what to make of that experience. we just couldn't sing together unless we went back in time a decade; in the sameness of junior high, our stories aligned. of course, maybe this was the same case for the egyptians, but my hunch is that it wasn't.

i don't mean to suggest that "american" culture is eroding and that we need to shut down our borders to keep "america for the americans"--whatever that means. that's certainly not my view, but what i have noticed is that many people growing up in america are culturally confused. influenced by both individualism and multiculturalism, many people are confused about where they belong. they're looking for a common story to root themselves in; they're really looking for home.

this is where the church comes in because it wasn't only the junior high songs that we knew; we also knew the jesus ones. if the church can offer a real story, a real metanarrative that gives meaning to the experiences of the confused, these people might find it to be a place to call home.