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All Good Things Must Come To An End

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The past day and a half was spent in Mumbai, Gateway to India. We took in the sights, and bought gifts for friends and family. I’m proud to say that I have a small gift for every supporter. It is a feat that I have never accomplished before in all my time going to foreign countries. It took quite a few haggling, but my friends Elton and Kalam have helped me insure that I got the best price. We walked quite a bit around the city, and to put it bluntly, it is very very different from Trivandrum. I almost like the quiet, idyllic countryside of Trivandrum compared to the busy, polluted, and hectic city of Mumbai. But all in all, we enjoyed our time here decompressing, eating good food, and seeing the tourist attractions, including the “Gateway of India” monument, which commemorated the arrival of King George V in 1911.

But now it is now time to say goodbye to beautiful India. We laughed, we cried, we sang, and we danced. We listened. We saw. We prayed. The bishop’s family welcomed us not only into their home but into their lives. We joined them in meals, in family devotions, and most of all, in laughter.

We are hopping on a plane in a few hours, to return to sunny (northern) California, but I will continue to remember the Dalit people and all the things that I have seen and heard. Their stories must be told. God’s story must be told.

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Stories

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Lincy
Lincy is a 14 year old girl. Her sister is blind. Her mother passed away awhile back. Her father abandoned her and lives with another woman in another state. She literally has nothing that is of her own. Yet, Lincy is one of the best performing students, and is super bright. She speaks perfect and eloquent English, loves God, and has the brightest smile.

Rajan
Rajan is a pastor and a Sunday school director of the mission. He is a very funny man. One time during our seminar, while translating for us, he would insert his own jokes to keep the crowd going. And the people really dig his humor. We asked what he said, and he just told us “something funny so you know, people will not fall asleep.” He also tells us that he is unmarried. He prays, “Jesus, do not come back before I get married.” He flashes a smile whenever he tells this to people. Frankly, I think it is one of the most honest prayers I have heard ever.

Dharmaraj
Dharmaraj is a pastor living and working in one of the remote tribal groups in Tamil Nadu. He is small, bald, has very big eyes, and is soft spoken. He started a small faith community in his village, despite the opposition from militant extremist Hindus. One day, as he was preaching in the church, people crashed into the church, dragged him outside, beat him severely, and tore all his clothes. Then, they proceeded to destroy the church building. A few days later, while climbing a coconut tree, the man who beat Dharmaraj fell down from the highest point of the tree. He broke his back and could no longer walk. Dharmaraj visited the man in his home and prayed for him and for healing. He is now one of the believers, worshiping in a broken down building with a small band of people.

Keren
Keren is the daughter of Bishop, and one of the main help for us foreigners. She gets all of our sarcastic jokes, and dishes out quite a few of her own to us. She is happily married to a good man, loves children, and has a loving family. She is also an administrator and a teacher at the school for Dalit children. She believes in the cause to elevate the status of Dalits by not only sharing the gospel, but also working tirelessly to bring education and opportunity to the people. She takes pride in that theirs is the only mission that is dedicated to helping the cause of the Dalits in all of India. And she worries, and rightly so, that it may not be for long if persecution continues, and if younger leaders are not raised to inherit the work.

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The Shotgun Approach

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I have been typing some thoughts on my computer here and there (yes, my Macbook Air has traveled to India with me), thinking I’d be able to post every day. But our days are full and getting onto the internet is challenging, so I’ve decided to take the shotgun approach and post all the random thoughts from each day all in one.

November 9, 2008

It is raining. The power is out. Keren says “this is India.” I think there is something very familiar and appropriate about that statement.

November 10, 2008

Today we went to Keren’s cousin’s engagement ceremony. It was quite beautiful. The women wore colorful and flowing saris, and the men wore long dotis that came down to their ankles. There was an exchange of jewelry where the fiancee received from the man bracelets and a ring. We were witnessing history, as among the Dalit people it is extremely rare, in fact almost impossible, to find another Dalit who is also a Christian and educated, for marriage. We all celebrated together with a huge meal. They say when you travel you shouldn’t drink the water or eat anything that might seem unsafe, but who were we to reject the food and drink of an engaged couple? We washed down our parched throats with this amazing drink and ate gladly curry chicken. And to top it off we had delicious vanilla ice cream. We may pay the consequences later, but at that very moment, it tasted… heavenly.

Compared to the bright, colorful saris and long regal dotis, we look drab and almost “country like” with our monochrome colored button downs and khakis. Now I am beginning to understand my mom who always thought Americans looked too unsophisticated and “country” even if they were from cosmopolitan areas like New York or San Francisco.

Bishop’s name, Swamidas, means “servant of God.” I like the name. I like it a lot in fact.

Elton and I have decided that Bishop is the Dalit people’s MLK. He is a champion of civil rights, and a God fearing man who also happens to have a grand vision of freeing his people from oppression and elevating them to a higher plane. Every time we have a meal, getting to hear him speak, brings down goosebumps on my skin.

November 11, 2008

Everywhere we go, we keep getting questions about how we feel about Obama as our new president. Whenever someone brings it up, I am filled with the utmost pride. But I know not everyone on our team shares the same feelings so I try to stay muted with my commentary. Oh, only if they knew that I gave a triumphant shout in St. Stephens Green when Obama got elected, and went out on the streets yelling “Obama won!”

We visit another non-profit organization that helps Dalit and tribal people become self-supporting, self-propagating, and self-governing communities through entrepreneurial business. There are some amazing stories that are coming out of the people from the most remote areas of India. Stories that I have never heard or fathomed. It is truly incredible how people are enduring intense suffering, and yet have so much hope through the work of the Divine. Churches are starting in areas that have never seen a church, people are changing, children are being educated, and Dalits are breaking the cycle of poverty and ignorance and becoming a force in society.

We are having dinner back at the compound and the power goes out again. This is different from the planned outage that happens for thirty minutes every night. In fact, it goes in and out a few times. But nobody is angry or concerned. Everyone is still content that we have a roof over our heads, and a hot meal in our stomachs. Strangely I am starting to get a feel for the ebb and flow of life that is called India. This is indeed a beautiful place.

November 12, 2008

Me and Elton bought dotis yesterday. The easiest way to describe it is, it is a long skirt for men. I wear mine with a white shirt that I received as a gift from another friend who went to India awhile back. We set off to teach our “discipleship training” workshop. There is around 55 pastors and evangelists who have gathered for our little workshop. We get a chance to hear their stories, and we find that they are doing a tremendous and intensely difficult work, often unseen or unheard by the world. They go through violent persecution by militant extremist Hindus, face prejudice and racism by higher caste Christians, and are too poor to support their small communities. We try to encourage them as best we can, but in reality we are humbled at their own sacrifice and endurance for the gospel.

These workers have hearts of gold. After everything is over, people are genuinely thanking us for coming. We take a picture altogether, mainly so that I won’t forget who they are. Their stories must be remembered and told.

On our way back, someone comments at my attire and says, “you are Indian now!” That is the best compliment I have received yet. Hudson Taylor would be proud. I even grew out a mustache to be like the people (9 out of 10 men have mustaches).

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From Trivandrum

Sunday, November 9, 2008

At noon, November 7, 2008, Kalam, Elton, and I boarded on Cathay Pacific and started our long journey to India. After 14 hours, we arrived in Hong Kong, roaming through the ultra-modern airport, eating shrimp dumpling noodle soup, and checking facebook on our iphones. Then, after a few hours, we hopped on another plane and made our way to Mumbai, India.

We arrived in Mumbai at 2am. Our next flight to Trivandrum would not be until 10am, so we parked our gear in the cafe, and took naps, ate snacks, played the “alphabet game” and journaled. 10am came around and we jumped on another airplane to get to our final destination, Trivandrum. From the plane looking down, it looks very similar to the jungles of Peru (my favorite reference point), with luscious green trees and a large body of water, (the Arabian Sea in this case) bordering the land, but upon arriving, it is actually nothing like Peru. As soon as we got to the compound, we rested our tired bodies to sleep.

At 5:30am sharp, the loud speakers started blaring music and announcements. I’m pretty sure nobody is lazy in this part of the neighborhood, as there’s no chance of sleeping through the music (that actually plays all the way up to noon). Our group split into three, and each group visited a different church for worship. There’s no amped instrument, or slick powerpoint background for ambiance, but everyone sang passionately and loudly. It was especially striking since the church that I went to visit was right smack in the middle of a Hindu upper caste neighborhood. These dalits were either crazy or are that high on Jesus. I think it’s probably both. The pastor of the church was a fiery man, with a flowing white robe that reminded me of Moses from the Ten Commandments. When he prayed, there was this combination of power and delicacy, a certain cadence to his prayer, that made it convicting and reassuring all at once, even though I didn’t know a word he was saying save for the “hallelujah”s and the “amens”.

Over lunch and tea, the director of the compound began to tell the story of the dalits. They are the so called “uncategorized” caste, or the “untouchables.” They are classified sub-human, and lower than animals. Although the Indian government abolished the caste system in the 1950s, it is still alive and well, especially in this southern state Kerala. So the work that is being done here is emphasizing holistic transformation. Dalits are not only converted to Christianity, but they are equipped with vocational training, their children are educated through the school, and there is a strong political movement to change the laws of India to provide basic rights to the Dalits that are currently being denied.

I wish I could write more about what I am learning about the political system and cultural system that is intertwined with the caste system, but I barely understand it myself and there is very little time to sit in front of the computer, so hopefully I’ll either be able to write more about it in a future down time, or when I get back. Suffice to say, everyone is safe, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smell of southern India, and getting totally spoiled by the people’s hospitality.

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A New Day and India-bound

Thursday, November 6, 2008

So, today is officially a new day in American history. Last night, our nation elected its first ever black president, Barack Hussein Obama. 2Pac once said that we are not ready for a black president, but we proved him wrong, only ten years later. Thomas Friedman, immediately after the results were final, opined in his column at the New York Times, saying:


That is what happened Tuesday night and that is why we awake this morning to a different country. The struggle for equal rights is far from over, but we start afresh now from a whole new baseline. Let every child and every citizen and every new immigrant know that from this day forward everything really is possible in America.

I am not black. But when I see Jessie Jackson and Colin Powell choke up and tear at the sight of Obama being declared the president elect, I am also moved profoundly. It is indeed the dawn of a new day where all things are possible.

In a few hours, i will be hopping on a plane, crossing the Pacific, and landing in Trivandrum, India. I am excited, nervous, and anxious all at the same time. I’ve done my fair share of traveling to distant lands, and yet, I seem to never be able to shake off the anticipation and the “what if” thoughts looming in my head.

This trip will be unlike any of the other trips I’ve taken for spiritual purposes. This time, I will not be “leading” anything, won’t be “preaching” or “teaching” (save for one day), and won’t be strategizing for the future. Instead, I will be learning, savoring, and tasting Southern India. And in between those things, I hope to have many conversations with other Indians, the friends I’m going with, and with the Almighty. And most of all, I’m hoping that I will get to dream once again.

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A Letter of Plea

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Friends,

I am writing this letter as a passionate plea for you to make a difference this November 4, 2008. As you all know, we are at the cusp of an historic election year, possibly the most important election in our country’s history. I want you, as a friend, to seriously consider casting your vote for Barack Obama next Tuesday.

Now, please seriously consider the reasons why I am asking you of this. Normally, I would not write such a letter asking you so directly, but I feel compelled this year to do so, because together we can make history and as Gandhi once said, become the change in this world. I know many of you from my days in Michigan and Illinois–from bible study, from youth group, from work, from seminary and from soccer. Others I have had the good fortune meeting since moving out to the bay area, California. I have been inspired by many of you because I know you want to make a difference and are motivated by your faith, by idealism, and by a strong desire to build a better future. I dare say that this time around, we are at a brink of making such monumental difference.

I am well aware that you are skeptical and hesitant to vote for Obama, either because he is “the most liberal senator in the senate” or because he is a newcomer to politics and untested to occupy the highest office in the nation. Perhaps your Christian faith tells you that it would be wrong to vote for someone who is for abortion and for gay marriage. But as a fellow Christian I want to ask to set aside those thoughts for now and see the bigger picture.

Voting for Obama would mean a radical shift in American politics regarding the issue of race and ethnicity. It would elevate the status of all minorities and not just black people in America. It would change the dynamic of our society and it will no longer be stereotyped by “white politics” or “black politics.” It would mean for someone like me, an Asian American born in this country, to be able to identify with my president in one more meaningful way, and it would mean for all people to come one step closer to a truly integrated multi-racial and multi-cultural nation.

Voting for Obama will also bring wisdom and prudence to our foreign policy and help restore respect in the international community. We are in the midst of two wars, and thousands of our young troops have perished in Iraq, a war based on faulty evidence and layered with ulterior motives by the Bush administration. Our respect by our neighbors are at an all time low, and our “cowboy,” unilateral approach to foreign policy has created greater disdain by other states. McCain will continue the foreign policies of George Bush in Iraq and around the world, whereas Obama will help restore American stature abroad with a more thoughtful, yet firm approach. It will also mean bringing our young men and women home from Iraq and Afghanistan sooner than later.

And most importantly, voting for Obama would mean that we will see a balance between politics and faith. For too long, we have seen the Republican party hijack the Christian vote, based on promises to repeal abortion laws and keep gay marriage illegal. Meanwhile, quietly Republicans have been steadily advancing their own agenda of providing tax cuts to the wealthy, keeping the poor marginalized, and spending absurd amounts on defense (especially in this post-cold war era). Obama represents a more nuanced and pragmatic approach, where faith will be respected and practiced in houses of religion all across this nation, and yet the rights of all people, whether man, woman, straight or gay, will be protected by the law of the land. I was raised in a long tradition of Republicans, holding to GOP values even before I started attending church. Yet, I am proud to say, that my faith has since informed me that the Republican agenda can be even more nefarious than the democratic one, and that while both fail to represent the true heart of compassion, justice and mercy as described in the book of Amos, The Obama ticket comes much closer to what it might look like when justice rolls down like a roaring river.

My seminary professor once told me that life is full of compromises. It was perhaps one of the greatest lessons I have learned while there. Life is full of compromises, and quite often, we cannot be so dogmatic about our values and beliefs at times. It means compromising to keep the family together, compromising to keep the peace within the church, and compromising to bring the nation towards healing. Of course, I am not saying that we should waver wherever the wind blows, or throw away our core values for whatever is popular at the moment. I’m confident that was not the intent of my professor either. Rather, a middle ground, or compromise, is required in the face of all the conflicting views we carry, and all the differences we face, in order for the greater good to happen, in the family, in the church, and in our society. I believe voting for Obama is a step towards such middle ground for the sake of the unity of our nation.

Friends, thank you for listening to me. I hope you will join me next Tuesday in voting for change and voting for Barack Obama for the President of the United States of America.

Your friend,

David

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Fate

Sunday, October 26, 2008

A few more years pass by. Our students are no longer in high school and are now in college. We start fresh with a grand total of two students in Latitude. They are officially called G2 (catchy term for ’second generation’). In our inaugural meeting, in efforts to connect with them, I offer to show a clip from the Chappelle Show… before actually getting to the Bible study. Needless to say, it didn’t matter what clip it was, although I think it was “The Mad Real World,” the whole “bible study” was ruined. I made a note to myself to “never do that again.”

Meanwhile, I hear of news that Andy, the goofy kid, is considering joining the Marines. Andy? Randomness with seven ’s’s at the end? The goofiest of them all? I brushed it off as teenage angst and didn’t think much of it.

The next time I hear from Andy, he is already enlisted and he is set to go to boot camp in South Carolina. I begin to have mixed emotions: partly I’m proud that Andy is so determined and focused in serving his country, and partly I’m afraid that he would be in harm’s way, because everyone knows the US is the world’s police.

After bootcamp, Andy goes back to college and becomes a kid again. He shares the horrors of boot camp whenever he returns home from school, and we all have a good laugh at his “randomness.”

Over AIM, Andy tells me that he’s moving back to Michigan from Purdue. I ask why, and he says to go to U of M Deerborn, in hopes of transferring to Ann Arbor. I think it’s a great idea, and tell him that I’m looking forward to seeing him more often. Andy returns and lives in Ann Arbor, while commuting to Deerborn. He’s slightly less goofy, and show flashes of seriousness, but all in all he’s still a kid. Meanwhile, the other guys are still like children, and I think that they will never grow up. But, at least they are no longer in Latitude. My wallet has thinned considerably, for all the pizza and candy I had to buy.

Then, we hear the news that Andy will go back to South Carolina for some more training. It will be much longer than bootcamp, to the point where he will have to disenroll from school. I know it’s only going to get more serious, but I’m not sure what to say or what to do so I do nothing. Meanwhile, the boys will be boys. In efforts to cheer up Andy while he’s in training, Aaron, Gabe and the rest make a little care package for him, along with a drawing of a…… rocket ship. Of course, it is the biggest and er, manliest rocket ship ever drawn. Andy had a good laugh, as did we.

A few months later Andy is back in Michigan, and he is no longer a child but he is a man. He has scars everywhere (presumably from staying in the trenches for days and getting eaten by bugs), he is darkly tanned, and the “huh” look is nowhere to be found. Only an intense stare and a stoic pose worthy of the generals remain. And along with that, he is more focused. Often, I will see him quietly seated in the back during morning prayer. I’m there because I have to be, but he is there to meet God. And just like that, he is off for some more training.

In between trainings, I sit down with Andy at Mr. Greeks and talk over Gyros. I do my best to try to convince him not to go with this whole military thing, but he is unwavering and steadfast in his resolve. I admire him for his strength, but kind of miss the goofy side that I knew so well. That has all but disappeared and now there is only a man on a mission.

One day, Andy pulls me aside and tells me that he will be deployed to Iraq soon. I am speechless. I don’t know to crack a joke or to say something super serious. Instead, I offer to pray for him. He smiles at me and we pray right there on the spot, in the midst of thousands of people screaming, yelling, and running around from all the sugar high found in the Kool-Aid.

Deployment gets delayed a week, another week, and then a month. In the meantime, he is much more loose and casual, and I can almost see the days of old, Andy Randomness with seven ’s’s. We all have a good time and hang out whenever we get a chance. I jokingly tell the boys that I much prefer this second generation of Latitude students because they actually listen to me and pay attention. Aaron leads the smart-alecky response and says something to the fact that in spite of their rascaliness, I cannot forget them because they are the first. I’m a bad poker player and can’t hold my face. I bust out laughing and try to get Aaron in a headlock but Aaron’s been working out and can probably bench me now. So, instead I pull the “I’m your pastor, respect me” card.

That doesn’t work either.

Andy’s deployment date is final. He, along with his platoon are being shipped out for Iraq. That Sunday, the boys and I go out for some lunch. We laugh and we pig out with Korean BBQ, which is a comfort food of sorts, I guess. I don’t know how, but we also manage to take a picture. I think we all know how dangerous and how crazy it is over there, but we choose not to think about it. I conjure up thoughts of confidence and security, thinking that Andy will do just fine and will return before we know it. Yet, inside I fear, and I fear, because Andy will surely be in the toughest of places where the battle is fierce, because you know, he is of the Semper Fi variety. Places like Falluja and Mosul come up in the news all the time as Marines’ favorite cities. Andy is a Marine, and he signed up to, quite literally, fight and die for his country.

How many can say that they will knowingly give up their lives for something greater? And before I can think twice, Andy is in Iraq.

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The Unlikely Shape of Things to Come

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

It’s already a few years since Latitude has started. I keep hearing these stories about Teen Challenge and other “hot” youth groups that grow by the hundreds. I wonder to myself, “will our youth group explode like that?” I have these dreams of grandiosity, meanwhile I struggle to keep these youth interested in God, rather than “the other stuff.”

We have other people starting to come out, either because they are friends, or because their guardians think that it is in their best interest to come out to what me and Yohan are doing (we still hold to a very loose structure, and mainly horse around after an “attempt” at bible study). We have Helen, Esther Choi, Justin, Aaron, Andy Chen, Catherine, and Peter Brock coming out in addition to the others and BJ and John Yang showing up whenever there’s a special event (like free pizza). Our group steadily grows, and now we have about 15 or so people showing up regularly. And since we have more girls coming out, Yohan and I decide that it is time to recruit a girl to actually talk to the girls about boys and about MySpace. So, we get Esther to join us, since, she seems to have some time and we hear through the grapevine that she’s good with other girls (because clearly, we are not).

Now the division of labor is complete. Yohan is the good cop, I’m the bad cop, and Esther is the caretaker of the girls. We also adopt a new philosophy that will guide our mission for years to come: “Better to have them hang out at our place, than hang out outside, drinking, smoking, and cavorting.” So, we make it a point to have them stay and hang out after bible study, as much as and as long as they want. This ends up being frequent pizza runs, impromptu wrestling matches, and many repeats of Drumline and A Walk to Remember.

And yes, we frequently have candy at our meetings. One year, for Halloween, we give each student a bag of candy to enjoy as a way of celebrating Halloween. What starts as something very innocent as tossing a candy to the other guy, instantly turns into a wrestling match between Andy and Gabe. I think it’s like little cubs play-fighting with each other, so I just watch from the sidelines laughing and thinking “how cute!” while tension is seriously escalating between the two. They are now breaking out in sweat and their faces are red. Their smiles are long erased from their faces. Yohan and Esther at this point are geniuinely concerned and trying to break it up, but meanwhile I’m still laughing and chuckling and saying to myself “ah, kids.” I later am told that it was a serious situation that almost could’ve broken out into a fight. I pretend that I knew all along, and that everything was under control, but really, I had no idea. I thought they were just “being boys.”

Andy would say the most random things at the most random times. One day, I was driving him and Gabe back to their house, and on the way we pass by Shekinah Church. Andy sees the big sign and says “oh, shekki-nah church” with the emphasis on ’shekki’. (shekki is a swear word in Korean). I attempt to reprimand him for swearing but miserably fail and end up busting out laughing. To this day, I’m not sure if they know what was so funny.

There were a few times when I attempted to have a serious conversation with Andy. One was because his mom would call me and share her concerns about him. Being the youth pastor, I dutifully listened to her story and assured that I would talk to him and “straighten him out.” So one day, I sit Andy down and tell him the virtues of studying and getting good grades. I remind him the benefits of calling home if he’s going to be late and the merits of not breaking curfew. I sprinkle my own teenage experience in between so that he’ll get the lesson and think to himself never to repeat my mistakes. Meanwhile I’m getting blank stares from Andy and his typical “huh” look. Whenever Andy doesn’t know what to say or do, he starts laughing and smiling. I get even more frustrated with his goofiness because, you know, I’m trying to have a real serious and monumental conversation that will change the course of history. Forever.

The next time is a planned attack. I decide to talk to Andy about his relationship with Eunice, while Esther is going to talk to Eunice about her relationship with Andy. It was going to be one of those ‘birds and the bees” talk. I start off with “sooooo Andy, uhhhhh, you know, how’s it going with Eunice?” Andy replies “uhhh, it’s good.” I say, “Good? That’s good, you know, uh…. you see, uh…. ah never mind. You hungry?” I vow to myself that next time I will talk to him sternly and authoritatively about this all-important issue, but right now I decide to do what’s even more important… get something to eat.

To be continued.

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How It All Started

Saturday, October 18, 2008

It was a Friday, during our weekly staff meeting. I expect the routine… what’s the topic for this Sunday, what issues do we need to address, and what are we envisioning for the future. I have a Starbucks coffee in my hand, and I’m enjoying a Friday morning with lively discussion. Then, our lead pastor abruptly says “we have these high school students coming to our church. and their guardians are wondering if we’d be able to at least hold a bible study or something for them. who do you think can do this?” Everyone does a once over to each other, and before I know it, everyone is looking at me. As if I’m the most qualified to lead teenagers just because I wear track jackets to work. So begins my journey into “youth ministry.”

Two days later, I pull some of the high school students aside after the morning service (grand total of four) and tell them that I’m interested in meeting up with them to start something. In typical teenage fashion, they hardly cover their disinterest. They give an obligated “sure” and we set out to meet sometime in the future. Meanwhile, I have no date planned, no strategy, and no clue.

A few weeks go by and we have a rag tag of high schoolers coming out to our predominantly college and young adult church. The twins, Michelle, and Gabe. Soon, Gabe’s best friend Andy starts coming out, because you know, he’s Gabe’s best friend and in high school you never let your friend down. Then soon after, Andy’s girlfriend, Eunice, comes out too, because you know, in high school you show you’re into the other person by doing everything together. Then, someone approaches me one day and says “you know, I know this girl, she’s in high school, and I think it would be great if she came out to what you guys are doing.” I have no idea what to do so I say “sure, give me her number and I’ll call her.”

I call her, and her name is Angel, and she’s a very bright kid, and I tell her I’m starting something for the “Youth of Ann Arbor” through our church and ask if she’d like to join. Unlike the others, she’s actually a little more enthusiastic in her response. I think to myself “maybe because she’s Chinese she’s more open and cordial, unlike the Koreans that assume the position of nonchalance and stoicism.” By the way, I’m Korean and I know a thing or two about Koreans.

So, now we have the twins, Mich, Gabe the Cat, Andy Randomnessssss, Eunice and Angel for what we call “Youth of Ann Arbor.”

I know for a fact that I’m not going to be able to handle talking to girls about boys and about mySpace. So, I do what every smart guy would do and recruit another dude, Yohan, to help me, purely because I know he has a lot of time on his hands out of all the people I know (he was a part-time dental technician or something like that). Well, that and he’s pretty good with teenagers.

The next brilliant plan is to come up with a catchy name where students will be, like, “yeah!”, “cool!”, and “totally!”. So I come up with the ultra-hip name, Ground Zero, but that’s quickly shot down because it’s very tasteless in light of 9-11 (it was the year 2001). My boss tells me “Latitude” and I rebut “but that’s a Dell computer!” Then he tells me the reason, and I sheepishly say “ok” but secretly I kind of like the name. I can just picture kids saying “cool!” “totally!” to Latitude.

Now, I make this killer sign that has “Latitude” in cool fonts which I downloaded from 1001freefonts.com. I put a nice underline with all lower caps fonts saying “^enter here,” trying super hard to be hip and cool and totally with the students. I put it up on the door, and we have our official first Latitude youth group meeting ever. I’d like to think that it was the most powerful meeting I’ve ever been to, the most profound, provocative, and deeply spiritual time ever. But all I can think of after the meeting was I’m in a deep pile of doodoo and next time we need candy at our meetings. Lots of it.

To be continued.

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Contradictions

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Contradictions have always existed in the soul of humanity. But it is only when we prefer analysis to silence that they become a constant and insoluble problem. We are not meant to resolve all contradictions but to live with them and rise above them and see them in the light of exterior and objective values which make them trivial by comparison. - Thomas Merton

I received this quote today from a friend, and it aptly depicts my life as of yet. I have always known that there were contradictions within me. I once thought that they needed to be either concealed, or “analyzed” so that I could become whole. I held on to that belief for quite some time and then, just like that, went to the other extreme. I started to not care what people thought of me, contradictions and all, and decided to only do what I wished and felt like doing. Whether seemingly good things or seemingly bad things, I waved the banner of “freedom” and “contradiction” to do what I want, when I want.

But this too, I realize, is not the answer.

One example: I have believed in and tried to promote “community,” that is be open and available to others for the sake of love, harmony, and all that good stuff. And yet, looking back, I have missed every major landmark event in my faith community here in SJC. I missed the Kings’ wedding, the Chongs’ baptism, and most recently Billy and Lisa’s engagement. All in the name of freedom, and “finding myself.”

My contradictions are getting the best of me and I’m trying to, in vain, hide them or resolve them quietly. Perhaps, contradictions, as Father Merton suggests, is something that I live with, and rise above and see for what they are.

Words I must practice and master.

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