A CALL TO COMMUNION | PART 1

For 6 years, James Finley’s spiritual director and mentor was Thomas Merton at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. Finley compiled his insights and lessons into a book, Merton’s Place of Nowhere, published in 1978.  The book fundamentally addresses the question of ultimate human identity, which was the basis of Merton’s whole spirituality. In the book, Finley helpfully unpacks the notion “of the true self in God as opposed to the false self of egocentric desires.”

After reading the book (really meditating) over Christmas break, I am still chewing and regurgitating over what I read. It feels almost like having walked lost in some sort of enchanted forest seeing and discovering things I hadn’t seen before (but really seeing familiar things in different ways). It was also during this Christmas break that I “slew hordes of orcs” in desolate “Mordor” marshes and fields while playing my first Play Station 4 game (which my children gifted me for Christmas). It was a different kind of enchantment, so one could say I was vacillating between two different landscapes of enchantment.

Back to the forest of enchantment. There are many things still to discover in my own life in regards to how what I read in Finley's book applies to my life and beyond, but I’d like to share one insight which Finley highlighted as ‘The Insight’ as his last chapter of the book. Finley asserts that Merton “distinguished between communication and communion as two fundamentally different modes of knowing.” Finley continues, “Communication is logical, quantitative and practical in its application” while communion “carries within it the promise of renewed and deepened levels of intimacy and union.” Finley helpfully notes, “The failure to communicate is frustration. The failure to commune is despair.” While communication is motivated by clarity and order, communion is motivated by intimacy and belongingness.

MERTON WROTE…

“the function of the symbol is to manifest a union that already exists but is not fully realized.” Finley picks this up, “the ‘union that already exists’ is the true self concealed by sin.”

Finley then observes, "Purely objective statements miss the mark, for God is not an object. He is Person. Nor are we, as persons, objects. Here all is Subject. There is no 'object' 'out there' to 'see.' Here all is presence and communion."

It is a being to Being encounter which is to say, subject to Subject. We are not mere objects that belong to the Subject. There is nothing to understand and know. True transformation is ontological in nature. It has little to do with methodologies, programs, or having systems in place that promote behavioral and/or structural changes. Rather these changes are natural-by-products of the ontological transformation.

---

SIMPLICITY, SOLIDARITY, AND SILENCE

Two words that have captured my heart and prayer during this global pandemic have been simplicity and solidarity. I would like to unpack what these words mean to me in this season and then toward the end of this blog post, I have a proposal to share with you.

So read on. . .

My wife has been facilitating a small group spiritual direction for about two years, and I joined the group about 6 months ago. During one of the latest (April 21) sessions, my wife led an exercise that probed the major emotions we are sensing these days. Two emotions that rose to the top for me were contentment and joy. Both of the emotions were somewhat surprising to me. I ought to be disgruntled, sad, and disappointed, especially since my ideal vision of a sabbatical has been shot to pieces in many ways... As I dug deeper and tried to validate these emotions with some specificities, I realized that I was content mainly due to the fact that I really do not need much to live my life now. We have food or have access to food (we now have toilet paper! Before yesterday, we were down to a 2 weeks supply). I can only eat so much without destroying my health and body! I have a roof over my head, and so forth. . .

I am experiencing sustained joy mainly because of the every day mundane relationship with my adult children (3 out of 4 are living with us now). Hannah has been asking me, “what can I make for you, dad?” She has baked large batches of chocolate chip cookies with walnuts twice and other glorious and healthy desserts. From time to time, she and I walk our husky in the evenings and talk about stuff. (A proposal I share at the end of this blog came from one of those walks!) Grace and I have been watching a Korean TV variety show with Michael, Begin Again Season 3, almost every night. It is a show about a handful of Korean musicians who traveled to Europe and performed busking. I also get to play PS4’ NBA 2K20 with Michael. Just the other day, Michael asked me, “Dad, wanna play catch with me?” With Brad, it is just good to have him home. He is our family’s top introvert who likes to study and hang out in his room. We also get to enjoy dinner together every day as a family. With Elizabeth, it is about exchanging sweet and life-related text messages as she is settling down in St. Paul, Minnesota.

What more can I ask God for?

In addition, my life has slowed down so significantly that I began to notice things I had not noticed before.

As I dwelt on these emotions of contentment and joy, I appreciated the meaning and gift of simplicity specifically highlighted by the current non-accomplishments in life. I’m coming to a fresh realization during this first significant pause in my life that I had not stopped “doing stuff” for most of my life. Additionally, of course, COVID-19 bolsters and “locks down” the pause. I also realize that both contentment and joy arise from simple simplicity, not stemming from an aggrandized notion of extravagances and extraordinary feats in life. My thought quickly went to, “How can I maintain the sense of simplicity and its awe and attraction even after the pandemic crisis and sabbatical?"

Now to solidarity. . .

Definition of solidarity

“union or fellowship arising from common responsibilities and interests, as between members of a group or between classes, peoples, etc.”

The idea of interdependence and “with-ness” is key to solidarity. Solidarity gives humble feet and hands to the very spirit of incarnation. Solidarity is the earthy and grounding force of incarnation at work. During this global pandemic, since the whole of humanity is experiencing pain and loss, I believe our capacity to suffer with and come alongside others globally has significantly increased. Where there is suffering, there is suffering Christ also. Solidarity is the intentionality and willingness to suffer with, rejoice with, and/or simply “stand with” otherness. It is the "union or fellowship" as humanity, not for any one religious, regional, or cultural interests or goals. As is the case, opportunity for experiencing global interdependence, however grandeur or small, is unprecedented and unique to our time. For the life of me, I can’t think of any other time in modern times (or any other times in human history) that, we, as entire humanity is experiencing the same predicament, ever.

I share my thought of simplicity and solidarity for a reason today. While I am glad to open my life and share my reflection without any proposed action and hesitation, today, I would like to submit an idea. Maybe a vision. . . a small vision. I am a bit hesitant and sheepish about sharing the idea, but here it goes. . .

What if some of us could come together over zoom to embody the spirit of simplicity and solidarity and offer our presence and prayer for one another and for the rest of humanity?

30 minutes weekly at a designated time. . .

My idea of how the 30 minutes will unfold is pretty simple, with very few words spoken. I would like to embrace silence as our main way of presence and prayer. Only silence can do justice in capturing the depth and breadth of our collective predicament. Too many words would cheapen and turn our deep and complex reality into a well-defined, controlled, small, and shallow box, I am afraid.

30 minutes would then look something like this. . .

>Two Taize worship songs (Taize songs are known for their simple and repeated modes) in different languages. If not in English, there will be translations. Each of us may or may not choose to sing (with all of our microphones muted). You can easily YouTube Taize songs and you will see pages upon pages.

>Scriptural reading (in different languages) with no sermons or someone talking. Scripture only.

>Silence for 10 minutes in the middle of our 30 minutes. Together in solidarity with one another and with humanity. Practicing solidarity with silence may be counter cultural, but perhaps only silence can capture God’s mystery and mercy. In other words, silence just may be the only language that can contain God’s “mysterious, cosmic dance” and God’s unfathomable mercy. Silence is poor and yet rich. Silence is barren and yet full. Silence is nothing and yet everything.

>We end our time with liturgical prayer that have been written to pray for each other and the humanity.

I have no idea how long we would do this. I am thinking we would know when the time comes. . .

Here are the specifics.

• We will start on May 13 (Wednesday) evening at 7 pm (US Pacific Time). You can figure out your local (global) time... It will be every Wednesday at 7 pm (US Pacific time).

• If you are interested in joining us, you can either send me an email (chong.kim@frontierventures.org or reply to Free as the Sky campaign email) or comment below. You will receive the zoom link by next Tuesday.

• Feel free to invite others who may be interested.

---

A HIDDEN LIFE

“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs” [italics mine] From “Middlemarch” by George Eliot.

(Along with Eliot’s words, consider Thomas Merton’s own composed version of the classic saying of Chuang Tzu in his book, The Way of Chuang Tzu. This particular saying is titled as When Life was Full There was no History.

“. . . They [worthy men] were honest and righteous without realizing that they were ‘doing their duty.’ They loved each other and did not know that this was ‘love of neighbor.’ They deceived no one yet they did not know that they were ‘men to be trusted.’ They were reliable and did not know that this was ‘good faith.’ They lived freely together giving and taking, and did not know that they were generous. For this reason their deeds have not been narrated. They made no history.”)

During COVID-19 lockdown, we have been watching quite a few movies. We strolled down memory lane and watched Roman Holiday and fell in love with the timeless romantic story. It oddly reminded me that we would have been in Spain right about now walking the Camino de Santiago had it not been for COVID-19. Frozen 2, You’ve Got Mail, Little Women (the new one), some random Chinese martial arts movies (only for me), and Korean variety shows are among the few we’ve watched so far.

My wife and I also watched A Hidden Life directed by Terence Malick. I found out later that Malick also directed The Tree of Life. Years ago, my wife and I watched The Tree of Life and were completely befuddled by the experience. At the end of the movie, my wife and I exchanged one of those non-verbal total bewilderment look. While A Hidden Life didn’t grab me initially while watching, it lingered with me, particularly the quote by George Eliot at the end of the movie. (Don’t worry. I will not spoil it for you here.)

I can’t help but to wonder and ruminate on the qualitative truth about Eliot’s words. Eliot is fair and careful to use the word partly; I would be tempted to use words like sizable or even significant. The main character in A Hidden Life, Franz Jägerstätter, is an Austrian peasant farmer who refused to give his allegiance to Hitler and fight for the Nazis. He is one of many countless lives that were so remarkably ordinary and yet so extraordinary.

“The good of the world” has to be in direct contrast to the evil of the world. It is a knock-down-drag-out fight to the end between the good and the evil.

In his latest book, What do we do with Evil?: The World, The Flesh, and The Devil, Richard Rohr describes, “The devil, therefore, is those same corporate evils when they have risen to sanctified, romanticized, and idealized necessities that are saluted, glorified and celebrated. . . ” Rohr goes on, “Paul knew these forces that were really running the show were hidden inside of common agreements that every culture idealizes for its own survival.” Rohr concludes, “I believe Paul and his school teach that sin shows itself as social, cultural, or historical entrapment, cultural blindness, or bondage, along with personal complicity with such delusions.”

History is not merely made or advanced by the usual suspects, the list of so-called history makers. The modern mind has learned to almost “worship” larger-than-life heroes, especially with our need for entertainment and technology and our ability to revise and spin history mainly from the “dominant” point of view. I say this in solidarity with those who are helpfully trying to debunk the very idea of going along with the usual suspects. History makers are those who made headlines by creating and impacting “watershed moments” in history, almost always after the fact. We have become enthralled with such “heroes or heroines,” some of which for good reasons. I am not discounting or even downplaying the impact of the usual suspects and the overall good. I am questioning our own tendencies of blindly and uncritically accepting the usual suspects.

Even then, it is quite illuminating that both the “faithful” and the evil at work are mostly hidden, and therefore the fight between the good and the evil is also mostly hidden. Perhaps our one collective work as Jesus’ followers is to turn these hidden (both good and evil) work visible for the good of many.

At the end of the day, whether our heroes or heroines’ lives are hidden or not (which explains “partly dependent”), it comes down to each of us stewarding what we can from our own originality, authenticity, and creativity as human beings. Heroes and heroines are made in the extraordinary times where genuine courage and creativity are called for as we are living right in the middle of that now. Another true story I read from a Dutch priest named Adrian van Kaam tells the story of a mailman during peaceful times turning into a guerrilla band leader and fighter against the Nazis. His “real” or true identity was hidden and dormant until the war broke out. Crises (both external and internal for sure, but in this case external) often force us to discover who we truly are. They are open doors for us to walk right in to let our instinct and God’s creative and thus our natural make-up to take over. 

I believe that the Kingdom is mostly built and advanced by these hidden and unsung lives rested in unvisited tombs or those “who made no history!” Jesus’ own words of the Kingdom parables speak of these unspectacular and visibly hidden from normal line of sight.

---

LOVING YOUR ENEMY

A few years ago, my wife and I were driving across the dry, cactus ridden, long and monotonous Interstate Highway 10 from Los Angeles to Phoenix for a wedding. I started sharing with my wife, fumbling around my new and very different interpretation of Jesus’ words about loving your enemy as part of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:43-48).

The Sermon starts out with the famous Beatitudes, “Blessed are . . . .”

Whenever I read the Beatitudes, I didn’t think I measured up to the “standard” Jesus set. I miserably fell short more often than not. I used to read them as a set of conditional requirements, if I am poor, meek, and/or hunger for righteousness, and so forth and so on, then God would bless me or I am a blessed person.

Over time, I have come to realize that the Beatitudes itself is Gospel. It is not an if and then indictment. It is not an invitation to high moralistic achievements. It is when (not if) or as you are merciful, mourning, and/or pure in heart, you are blessed or God’s presence is with you.

I am not poor, meek, merciful, and/or pure in heart most of the time. In fact, I am mostly the very opposite of what Jesus outlined. Nonetheless while tilting heavily on the side of the opposites, I am still both and. We all are.

Jesus then segues into being the salt of the earth and the light of the world (I will loop back to my reflection on this below further). And then what follows is a long, tedious, but enlightening and shocking section on Jesus positioning Himself to reinterpret and to fulfill the Scriptures (The Old Testament). He is not bashing the Law. The Message translation puts it, “I am going to put it all together, pull it all together in a vast panorama.” 

Then the section on loving your enemy. . .

What I rambled to my wife during the drive was the thought that loving your enemy is loving oneself that is not in line with God’s blessings. It is loving the enemy within, as the enemy of the true self (I do think Jesus mainly meant to communicate enemy as others. But I also experienced that the Scripture is multi-layered in meanings and depth…so I offer this thought). In other words, Jesus may be telling us to have self-compassion and to love the part of who we are without condemnation and hatred. Extending grace to your enemy-self, as John O’Donohue defines grace as “the permanent climate of divine kindness”, is what may be at stake here. O’Donohue continues, grace is “the perennial infusion of springtime into the winter of bleakness.” Again, because the truth of the matter is that we are all both-and (going back to the Beatitudes above).

It is right in the middle of the both-and state and predicament that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. We do not have to try to be the salt and the light, we just are. What this means is that we are not approaching the world with perfection, superiority, and certainty which is what ego wants and likes. We finally have the ability and capacity to have compassion and solidarity with all humanity.

Philo of Alexandria said, “Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.”

We can truly come alongside others with tender-heartedness and humility. It is precisely in the state of solidarity and humility, we can be faithful salt of the earth and the light of the world.

The chapter ends with this verse (48)…

“You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” 

The word perfect can be misleading here. I believe the word has more to do with growth and maturity, not moral perfection.

I resonate with what Eugene Peterson captured in The Message. He expands the verse this way…

“In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”

---

PART 3 | WHO AM I?

WHO AM I? (continued from last week)

Fast forward to 2012. This was the year I said yes to general directorship (along with two other men) of Frontier Ventures (formerly known as the U.S. Center for World Mission). I stepped into the role out of  reluctant but full obedience to God. Our organization felt deeply the turmoil that usually comes after the death of a founder, and I was thrown right into the middle of the action. What soon followed was a personal level of pain and suffering I didn’t know how to manage (see my previous blog on suffering). My “coping mechanism” (which is really my ego) simply failed to serve me. I panicked and panicked hard, trying to grasp anything that came my way in order to survive. I felt like I was stuck in wet cement, knee-deep, which was slowly hardening. I usually am a pretty good escape artist, but this time, I was being calcified! 

One of my life’s coping mechanisms has been to avoid pain and suffering by creating a buffet of possibilities and options in the future so I don’t get stuck in the present. My go-to sin then is “gluttony.” I do enjoy food and can still pack it in, but the way gluttony works in me is profoundly more subtle and deeper. Being (or the perception of being) stuck can be one of the worst and the most horrific things that can happen to me. 

Thank God that my ego could not rescue me anymore. “It was the worst of times, it was the best of times!” (changing the order of the famous Dickens' opening phrase.) I then was forced to examine how I navigated my life and began to learn to rebuild, this time being more aware of my ego trappings and slowly discovering my true self…  

Out of sheer desperation and panic, I began to search for help. The book that fell on my lap was Richard Rohr’s The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective. I fully dove into the Enneagram wisdom tradition and began to understand who I am and how I am made. I began to see  what my uninhibited coping and survival mechanisms look like in their naked forms. I began to learn to hold my gift and sin together with humility and compassion. [There is so much to unpack on the Enneagram tradition and how it impacted me. I will need to highlight this in a later blog.] The idea of holding the contradictions of gift and sin together rather than trying desperately to get rid of the contradictions is at first counter-intuitive. It is an invitation and a call to integrate contradictions. Ego’s main survival function is to compare and contrast (whether we do it subtly or forthrightly), driving toward superiority and winning at all costs. We tend to compare our best (gift or strengths) with others’ worst (sin or weaknesses) as individuals, groups, and cultures. No wonder Jesus makes a big deal about not judging others! Jesus makes an astonishing paradoxical statement, “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). His life ultimately demonstrated this very paradox through the cross and resurrection: In order for us to live, we must die. This paradox is Jesus’ invitation for us. Paradox is contradiction integrated and transformed. (In a few weeks, I will share my further reflection on the blessing of paradox.) Paradox resides at the very heart of following Jesus. Without it, we quickly follow certainty-driven, dualistic and manmade “low” religions.

A couple of practices I have learned to incorporate in my life are emotional sobriety and being in the present moment. As a seven (Enneagram), I normally live life with my feelings suppressed, especially negative ones. Learning to acknowledge my feelings (sometimes out loud so I can hear myself) and giving permission and precise language to what I am feeling have been significant building blocks for my life. Practicing the now has also been elusive for me. Similar to emotional sobriety, this is a practice of being in the present. My mind will often wander off to far distances and into the future. Escaping the present by thinking about the future is common for me. Past is a former now. Future is an imagined now. I can only love God and follow Jesus in the now. I can only access reality in the now. (A slight rabbit trail here. . . I often wondered why Jesus would say, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Children are utterly loyal to the present. This very quality of being present is what I think Jesus lauds, as spirituality can only take place in the now. Animals and nature share the same quality of being in the present. They are all our superb teachers to be in the now.) Some of the practices I’ve embraced have been focused on being with my body. I’ve learned my body doesn’t betray the present. Physical activities, exercise, and Yoga (yes, I started practicing about a year ago) have all been extremely helpful. The body is thoroughly grounded in the present. No wonder I consider playing basketball once a week so therapeutic, as I can’t think about the future when playing ball!

Going back to discovering my true self’s vocation . . . It is too soon to even put into words, but some of the nuances involve developing people (especially younger people) who desire growing capacity to love in communities. And to do this with my wife. . .

In the meantime, one thing I am working on now is to build upon what I have learned in life and integrating my other streams of faith (particularly my missions journey) with the new-found contemplative and mystical tradition. I see deep correlations and connections between missional and contemplative streams. Articulating and educating the connections seem to be one of my intermediate contributions to the world. 

---

PART 2 | WHAT IS GOD LIKE? AND WHO AM I?

As we wrestle with the question, who is God? another question emerges, where does Jesus come in and what do we do with Him?

WHERE DOES JESUS COME IN?

I’ve come to believe that while everything in Scripture is inspired, not everything carries equal weight. To me, Jesus trumps everything. Not even the modern mind’s favorite, Paul, come close (I now read Paul’s writings through the lens of Jesus, not the other way around).

Jesus deconstructed the prevailing concept of God so thoroughly in His time on earth that religious leaders did not know what to do with Him. And because of that, they eventually crucified Him.

Jesus challenged and reinterpreted the dominating paradigm that humanity at that time had of God. Jesus, once and for all, presented the perfect picture of who God was (and still is). In the upside-down radical “Sermon on the Mount”, Jesus emphasized He did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it and proceeded to reinterpret the law. He gave wise instructions and warnings as to how to live. The Beatitudes would have been enough to rock the boat of His listeners and would have provided an unforeseen sense of hope that…the Kingdom was available to them.

Fast forward to Jesus’ last week before the crucifixion, which started out with the Last Supper (John 13). 

Jesus, as their rabbi, rocked the boat again by washing the disciples’ feet and commanded them to love one another. To Jesus, that was the true mark of discipleship and how all people would know they are His disciples. The most brilliant and coolest teaching of Jesus took place when he summarized the entire 613 laws in the Old Testament (no, I did not actually count them) down to 2 (which were embedded in 613, but with one minor change):

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.”

By following Jesus, we experience Jesus’ God and Jesus’ God becomes our God. To me, this is why I follow Jesus—moving from my woefully inadequate concept of God to the perfect and ultimate presence of God.  

WHO AM I?

Right off the bat, I would like to consider who we are not. We are not what we do. We are not what we have. We are not what others think of us. And then there is the biggest impostor of them all— we are not what we make or project ourselves out to be. We are not what we construct ourselves to be.

This idea of construction is all about ego-making. Early in life, the ego is a necessary life coping mechanism. Without it, we would not know how to survive. It is our learned way of preserving and defending ourselves from hurts, wounds, and perceived danger from the world. The problem is that over time, it disguises itself as the “real us.” It drowns out and overshadowed the true self that is in all of us. . . until our ego’s survival tactics don’t work anymore in life. This is what many refer to as a “mid-life crisis.” I think the label mid-life crisis is a bit of a misnomer, mainly because it doesn’t always happen in “mid-life”. It seems to me that it is hitting people sooner, and people are becoming more honest about “hitting the wall,” “hitting rock bottom,” or some sort of a meltdown. 

The question, Who am I? is really a question of what is my true self? Our true self is what God originally created us to be and thus who God really intended us to be. Because of ego’s activism, disguise, and dominance, our true self is often buried deep. However, from time to time, we catch glimpses of it, and we can’t help but be completely enraptured by the original beauty, which is a mere and true reflection of God’s creative beauty. The true self can only be discerned and discovered over time in safe space from ego’s allure and cannot be manufactured by will even if they are out of good will. Who we are is given to us from the beginning. The true self will invariably showcase its being into doing: doing what we love and loving what we do. This discovery (some people call this “personal vocation”) process “is written into one’s concrete history and into the inner dynamism (that is, the movement of the inner forces) of one’s life,” according to the late Father Herbert Alphonso. His concise book, Discovering Your Personal Vocation, is a gem of a book on this topic. Alphonso continues, “I am convinced that the personal vocation, once discerned, becomes the criterion of discernment for every decision in life, even for the daily details of decision making.”

A cautionary tale here… The question, Who am I? is not a narcissistic pursuit of modern and post-modern obsession with individualism. The Genesis account (Gen 1:26) makes it clear that we are created in the very image of the Triune God. In other words, from the very beginning, we are created as relational beings, first with the Triune God and also with others. We are never meant to be isolated. God does not and will not leave us alone. Our creation DNA will not leave us alone. Each of us is created for relationships. This is where the supreme paradox of individuality and community co-exist, never short-changing one or the other. Thus, the question of who am I? is not an isolated journey of individual discovery but a communal one! 

 In 2001, I first came across the dictum by Saint Irenaeus, “The glory of God is man fully alive,” in John Eldredge’s book, Wild at Heart. I remember exactly where I read this—at Starbucks on the corner of Washington and Allen, close to my home. It was that shocking! I dropped the book and was dazed for a good several minutes. I didn’t know what to make of it at first. Confusion and shock hit me simultaneously. My then theological frame could not handle such “man(kind) centered” theology! Moreover, I was blown over by the thought that my aliveness is directly related to God’s glory! I was operating out of John Piper’s famous phrase, “Missions exists because worship doesn’t.” My way of bringing glory to God was to engage in missions with all my heart and life, which I had done since 1988. The Irenaeus dictum disturbed my modus operandi!

Looking back, I would say that the following years resulted in a perpetually slow simmering confusion. Often times I found myself juggling between seemingly contradicting paradigms and trying to make connections and synthesize. All in all, I was not satisfied with where I was. 

(To be continued next week. . . )

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

PART 1 | WHAT IS GOD LIKE?

Two of life’s most fundamental questions that I’ve found to be true in my own faith journey are,

What is God (or whatever name you use for the Supreme Being) like? and Who am I?

What we do or don’t do in life is foundationally governed by our answers to these two questions. How we answer these questions sets our life’s trajectory and translates to our daily behaviors.

That is, until we are so thoroughly deconstructed or disordered (as Richard Rohr likes to call it), meaning the “box” we created for value and meaning does not work anymore, that we are completely befuddled and confounded. Not one of us has a perfect “box” that doesn’t need some form of deconstruction. I’ll unpack the topic of deconstruction at a later time.

Back to the questions. I’ve found that these two questions are intimately intertwined. But first, I’m going to unpack the first question…

The shape of

“the Supreme Being,” the Consciousness, or God determines how we ultimately view ourselves. For some, this God is an orderly rule enforcer ready to pounce and forcibly meddle in life when needed. For some, this God is powerful and zealous in maintaining His glory, that everything else pales in comparison. For some, this God is absent, uninvolved, and detached, leaving everything up to us to figure out. For some, this God is compassionate, caring, and kind. Whatever the shape (or combination of different shapes in different time) of who our God is like, we all “dimly” see God.

Nobody can say God is this or that in absolute terms. God can never be confined to our concept of God. God and our concept of God is not the same! When we say God, we mean our limited and incomplete view and experience of God rather than God Himself. One can even say that God refuses to be confined to our concept of God. Thus, our answer to the question of What is God like? keeps evolving and hopefully getting closer to who God truly is.

As alluded above, this process of knowing God is more experience based than cognition based. My “knowledge” of God when I look back is mostly about how God came to my rescue in desperate situations, answered my prayers both in clear answers and in silence, showered me with unearned grace, etc. In other words, it is God I have personally experienced in real life context. Often times, I admit that the God I have experienced is the God of the Bible that I met and thus confirms what I have learned about God through scripture. At the same time, we can think all we want regarding what we think or even believe (cognitively) God is like, no less from the Bible, but that is not as sufficient as we once thought. It doesn’t automatically translate into our personal working knowledge of God.

And then there is the Bible, given to us to understand what God is like. But why does it seem like God in the Old Testament is radically different or inconsistent to the God in the New Testament? What do we do with seeming contradictions and discrepancies?

For years, I racked my brain trying to understand the God of the Old Testament who seemed to be the author of unspeakable violence, anger, and malice in the name of maintaining His justice and order. Over time, I saw myself (my soul to be precise) refusing to believe this God. It just didn’t resonate with my experience of God. Why the Old Testament then? (This is a significant rabbit trail. I will further reflect on this very topic in the near future. But for now, among others, three recent books address the question and I would recommend these books. Peter Enns’ How the Bible Actually Works: In Which I Explain How An Ancient, Ambiguous, and Diverse Book Leads Us to Wisdom Rather Than Answers―and Why That's Great News and Richard Rohr’s What Do We Do With the Bible? There is also Rachel Held Evans’ Inspired: Slaying Giants, Walking on Water, and Loving the Bible Again.)

One of the questions that is a natural by-product of the question, what God is like? is this: How big is our God? By big, I mean magnificent, radically generous and inclusive, and unfathomably immense in His scale and reach. As soon as we make God to fit into our concept and image of Him and restrict His activities to justify our actions, we turn our God into a small-minded-feeble-tribalistic God. This is not the God Jesus proclaimed and taught us to follow and love!

Whether we are aware of it or not, we define our existence based on our understanding of what God is like. Thus, the question, who am I? 

I will continue my blog with what to do with Jesus and the question of who I am next week. (There will be two more blog entries.) This post was already getting too long. :)

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

SUFFERING AS A FRIEND AND A TEACHER

In my life, I have found that suffering often serves as a wake-up call from illusions. Suffering disrupts the facade of maintaining the status quo and superficiality. Suffering is also a matter of “when” not “if”. Suffering does not play favoritism; it hits us all with no exceptions. Thus, the question is, what do we do when we are submerged under suffering? Some of life’s most poignant and difficult questions emerge during times of suffering.

Where are You? Who are You? What are You like? Why are You silent and absent? What is this life supposed to be?

These are a few questions I have asked during my seasons of suffering. Suffering is profound mystery. No one who is experiencing suffering can ever say, “I know exactly why I am going through this.”

Yet suffering often drives us towards God or some divine being. Suffering happens when there is an absence of control or deviation from our plans. Richard Rohr’s definition of suffering is “whenever we are not in control.” The degree of suffering is directly proportional to our perception of control. Anything that is not in our control triggers the reaction of what we call suffering. Suffering’s main arena is in the mind, while pain is in the body (suffering can lead to pain and vice versa). What becomes more real is the presence of suffering than our perception of control. Our sense of control is an illusion. Suffering is real, and control is illusional.

Surrender then is the opposite of suffering. Surrender is letting go of our sense of control, which was illusional, to begin with. Surrender is about submitting to whom. This process, rooted in the reality of to whom we belong, allows us to discern whether we surrender, fight, or flight. We don’t surrender to a concept or an idea but to a Person. Surrender is also about submitting to NOW.

Being present and loyal to the present moment is one of the greatest spiritual disciplines.

This discipline is elusive for me as a type seven on the Enneagram; my mind is often fixated in the future. I (or my ego) have learned to escape suffering in the present by thinking about the future, where there is no suffering. My futuristic mind often betrays my present body. For me, listening to my body (which can only be felt in the present moment) is a required discipline of embracing the present moment and the Ultimate Presence.

Suffering

is one of the greatest and most surprising teachers of life. Learning to embrace suffering as a friend and a teacher without demanding hurried answers translates into one of life’s most unexpected fruits.

When I look back at my life, I can almost always point to my growth due to the suffering I encountered. A great spiritual truth, however way you say it is, the idea of “failing upward,” a breakthrough after hitting a wall, etc. capture similar truth. God does not and will not tempt us but He will allow suffering for reasons I don’t fully know. [This is a part of the mystery. Just think of Job.] I would think one of the reasons is that it is an essential part of the package of the inviolable freedom God grants us.

I am who I am because of suffering. I will become who God created me to be because of suffering. And it is precisely the experiences of my sufferings that can be used as gifts to others whom I meet in my life’s journey. And vice versa. . . The only requirement is that we all wear the badge of suffering. All sufferings are both unique and universal. While suffering is unique to all, it is the universal nature that binds all humanity.

The first line of Psalm 46:10 reads,

“Be still and know that I am God.”

The phrase, be still, is one word in Hebrew. According to Strong Concordance, the word רָפָה râphâh has “a primitive root; to slacken (in many applications, literal or figurative):—abate, cease, consume, draw (toward evening), fail, (be) faint, be (wax) feeble, forsake, idle, leave, let alone (go, down), (be) slack, stay, be still, be slothful, (be) weak(-en).” Be still means to cease, fail, faint, be feeble, forsake, idle, let go (especially the hand). To sink down, relax, let drop, let go, and be quiet bear what the word, be still, meant to capture. It is the posture of lowering our hands, opening up our hands (facing upward), and saying, “I am not in control anymore.” It is the posture of surrender.

The next verb, know [יָדַע yâdaʻ], is also loaded. The word know does not mean anything close to cognitive knowing. It is experiential and deep relational knowing. The same word is used for “knowing” through sexual intimacy in the Bible. It is absolutely the most intimate and personal knowing. God promises us that He will reveal Himself as we let go, sink down, and open our hands, which means we stop working and surrender. To paraphrase the verse, it can be read this way: “Let go of control and you will experience a deep personal knowing of Myself.” Or “Surrender to NOW to experience a deep intimate knowing of Myself.” Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is the ultimate example of this verse. 

To push this further, I believe that on the other side of suffering is love. God does not leave us alone with suffering, but God who is Love comes to rescue. The personal intimate knowing of God is Love in action. Invariably, this is how God woos us over again and again.

The rest of Psalm 46:10 reads, “I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” At first glance, this is an amazing leap from the first sentence. The intricate and inevitable connection between what is personal knowing and universal knowing is only what God can accomplish!

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

EULOGY FOR MY FATHER

[With a bit of encouragement from my wife, I decided to post my eulogy for my dad. I titled it now.]

In the final hour of my dad’s time on this side of heaven, I asked God, what do you want me to say or pray? God gave me Psalm 23. I later found out my sister had the same inclination and that my mom reads Psalm 23 every day. I read Psalm 23 out loud by my dad’s bed, hoping that he would hear what was being read and thus be comforted. As I read a few times (in Korean and English in different translations), the Message version stood out to me. I’d like to share this morning what I meditated and prayed as a result. 

God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction. (v. 1-3)

God has been my dad’s shepherd both seen and unseen, recognized and unrecognized. My dad does not need a thing now. The word need is no longer necessary or germane to where he is. My dad loved being outdoors, road trips, camping with family, hiking, and fishing. He especially enjoyed going to National Parks. As a result, camping was part of my happy life and eventually became my own DNA, and I have tried to instill the same in my own family. My children now love being outdoors, which is a direct tribute to my dad. He would love lush meadows, quiet pools to play in and drink from. Talk about his love language! He does not have to gasp for air now. And God has sent him in the right direction—being with Him forever. 

Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I’m not afraid when you walk at my side. Your trusty shepherd’s crook makes me feel secure. You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing. (v. 4-5)

My dad traversed life’s ultimate Death Valley. He is now no longer afraid because the Good Shepherd is by my dad’s side and He makes my dad feel secure. Fear melts like wax in the presence of the Good Shepherd. My dad was hyper-conscious of security which he faithfully provided to his family. Nothing escaped his mind in terms of details, although his detail mindedness drove me nuts from time to time.

Several years ago, my dad shared with me his broken dream with tears in his eyes. His dream in life was to become a doctor and help people in need. He had to forsake his dream in place of providing for his extended family when he was only 18 years of age (when his father passed away) as he was the oldest son in the family. Knowing my dad, he would have been a great doctor. As my dad faithfully provided for his extended family and our needs, he now is being served a six-course dinner right in front of his ultimate enemy (which is death) and his head is now completely revived and his life (which we are celebrating now) is brimming with blessings. 

Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life. I’m back home in the house of God for the rest of my life. (v. 6)

I told my dad that I loved him and that he was my hero. He is my hero not because he was a perfect human being and father but in spite of his imperfections, he modeled what it meant to put family first and to love with the best of his ability. Generosity and responsibility are the hallmarks of his character. I now realize albeit faintly that God’s beauty and love chased after him every day of his life. He lived a beautiful life! And that he is now back home in the house of God for the rest of his “life.”

MY GRANDEST JOURNEY

I have a spiritual director that I meet with every month at the blissful and picturesque Mater Dolorosa Passionist Retreat Center in Sierra Madre…along the sloping hills of the San Gabriel mountains. On clear days, I can see a sliver of the glittering ray of the Pacific Ocean on the far horizon. Up close, I’m often greeted by a herd of placid deers against the backdrop of rugged and handsome mountains. The landscape of my soul is not as blissful, though. I feel more like an explorer excavating deep and dark crevices of desert canyons. My sessions with him require a lot of inner excavating work. It requires vulnerability and no falsity while practicing gentleness and self-compassion toward my soul. I am driven toward inner spiritual freedom which is no different from discovering the likeness of Christ in my soul.  Who I am in my innermost being without ego’s distraction and falsity IS Christ that is in me. That is my grandest journey.

One of the appreciative qualities of my spiritual director is that he has respect for my unique soul. The role of a spiritual director is not to “direct,” so the title spiritual director is a misnomer (my wife, who is a spiritual director, shared this misnomer with me). He lets me fumble around in the dark, gives me the freedom to chase a few rabbit trails, and ultimately discover my own answers to the questions I have, which is essentially about listening to the work of the Spirit.

He also gives me space, a safe space. It is being a relaying instrument of God who is safe and always loves.

“A director is not a superior.”

—Thomas Merton

Dom Augustine Baker, a 17th century Benedictine mystic who stood his ground against autocratic spiritual rulers, said, “The director is not to teach his own way, nor indeed any determinate way of prayer, but to instruct his disciples how they may themselves find out the way proper for them. . . ”

Contrast the above postures with this story I am remembering now.

Years ago, in a large group setting, my wife shared a bible passage that impacted her. This required great courage on her part since she is a flaming introvert. After the meeting was over, a leader (globally renowned missions leader who will remain nameless) made a beeline to my wife and basically told my wife she had interpreted the passage inadequately. He went on to correct my wife’s interpretation using Greek words and all. I must have been busy talking to others while standing next to my wife, wondering what was taking place. I found out later what transpired and it made me very upset. The fact that I am still remembering the incident and feeling the anger tells me how violated I felt from the incident. It was a violation against soul’s self-discovery process. My soul knew it was simply wrong.

Imperialism in missions is still rampant, I am sorry to admit. Anytime we operate out of right from wrong [which is mostly about perceptions and which stems from what Gregory Boyd and Peter Enns respectively call “idols or sins of certainty”], teaching and dictating, and having prescribed questions and answers, we run the great risk of a new spiritual (or religious) imperialism.

I am not a spiritual director, but I aspire to the qualities I see in my spiritual director as well as in my wife’s spiritual directorship. I want to maintain genuine respect for all souls, all fearfully and wonderfully made by God. I want to create and fearlessly defend safe space. I want to be God’s instrument embodying self-discovery for others.

Foundationally, I desire inner spiritual freedom for all. The inner spiritual freedom is a mother to all external freedom proper to their time and contexts. 

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

EVOLVING ASSURANCES + CERTAINTIES

When the gospel was presented to me during my freshman year in college, it was in the form of the well-known “bridge illustration,” which depicts the wide chasm between God and me with Jesus being the only bridge. I was partially captivated by the presenter’s zeal and was impressed by his strong sense of certainty. It was an air-tight presentation with no loopholes or escape routes. But being a pretty good escape artist, I did not respond at that time by praying the “sinner’s prayer.” What I eventually responded to was the lived-out examples of love among the Christian brothers and sisters in the college dorm where I resided. I told myself, “that’s what I want and need.” This came after years of pursuing hedonism and parties. I did end up praying the “sinner’s prayer” but not the kind where I repeated after someone else leading me. I uttered my own sense of where I was at during that time and how I desperately needed to know God. It was April 22, 1982. It was a radical conversion, literally turning me around, pointing me to a completely different direction.

In my early Christian years, I was immersed in the discipleship program at the church I was attending. I took this extremely seriously, and church became my life, not just a part of my life. As I reflect, I can see how these years were all about “assurances” and “certainties.” I didn’t have time or space to ask questions. It almost felt like somebody had already thought of all the questions I would ask and provided answers to them preemptively. I simply assumed this was the new norm, all the while not being so sure of what to do with the real questions I had deep down. Questions about life, the Bible, and God. I took part in and led campus and street evangelism efforts that were all about zeal and passion, all stemming from the assurances and certainties I had built my life around. Missions was a natural progression out of this zeal for assurances and certainties. I was convinced that others needed to have the kind of conviction, zeal, and assurances that I had. That was evangelism and missions to me.

The modern mind likes to separate and create clear boundaries between us and them…

Christianity as a religion thinks it needs certainty

All feel the need to create clear boundaries (not just four walls)—who is in and out. Without this, there is no “us” or “them.”

Now when I look back, the scariest thing to me was that I became this zealous and radical leader of my generation.

I was also told to choose between God and the world. I was reminded again and again to “be in the world but not of the world.” I focused so much on not being of the world, my theology in those early formational years didn’t come close to capturing what it meant for me to be in the world. Not being of the world dominated and overshadowed being in the world. The Church was where God was and God somehow could not tame the world to be His domain, or so I thought. Years later, some of my most profound spiritual experiences would come to rely on finding God in all things and all things in God. But more on this below.

What do you do when you are certain about your experiences in life, but you are not certain of the meanings?

I have my set of forming assurances and certainties, but they are miles away from what I used to hold on to and pounce on others. To be sure, these are still being formed and etched in my soul, and my soul is discovering how to capture them in ways with which I resonate. In general, my assurances and certainties have become less about pushing certain dogmas and doctrines and moving away from belief based systems and more about what I am experiencing of who God is. One might say it is less about objectivism and more about subjectivism. (The modern mind’s jewel, objectivism and rationalism, is overrated in my opinion.) To me, this is one definition of mysticism. We all experience God uniquely and differently and at the same time universally.

“The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God’s eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, and one love.”

— Meister Eckhart

BELOW ARE A FEW OF MY GROWING ASSURANCES + CERTAINTIES

• I am made in God’s image. This is true for all of humanity. One sure way to embrace the world (all humanity and all God’s creation) is to learn to embrace myself as God’s magnificent creation. Apostle Paul writes in Ephesians 2:10 that we are his “masterpiece,” poiema in Greek. [This is where the English word, poem and poetry, come from.] The only other time the same word is uttered by Paul is found in Romans 1:20, referring to God’s magnificent creation (which obviously includes all of us). Paul must have been deeply impacted by the creation story! As God’s masterpieces, we including the creation, are unique and supreme poetry in motion, reciting God’s praises, which is sanctification at work. My favorite quote from Merton reads, “For me to be a saint means to be myself. Therefore the problem of sanctity and salvation is in fact the problem of finding out who I am and of discovering my true self.”

• I am also a sinner, the biggest and the worst of them all. We all are. We do things we should not do and we don’t do the things we should do. Our ego thinks it is the real me and is in charge of running our lives. Learning the patterns of how my ego works without self-condemnation is the ultimate testing ground of how everyday grace works.

• I am both a saint (created in God’s image, Love) and a sinner. Richard Rohr talks about how there was original blessing before original sin. I am both and. My sainthood and sinnerhood are like two sides of the same coin. I dare not boast in my sainthood lest it leads to sin. On the other hand, I dare not condemn my sinnerhood lest it harms my sainthood. Accepting the paradox of both sainthood and sinnerhood (which is the ancient contradiction of humanity) without pride and judgment respectively lays a healthier and a more robust biblical foundation for humanity than siding exclusively with the dogma that we are nothing but sinners. Humility and self-compassion become palpable spiritual exercises.

• God is love. Love is indeed stronger than death. Because God’s love is never possessive or controlling, His love is founded on freedom. It has to. Yes, He is omnipotent, but He chooses never to force His way in. Just picture Jesus patiently knocking on our soul’s door! His power, wisdom, divine interventions, and all His actions in this life and the next are filtered and displayed through His unfailing love. His love never ever fails. It is this love we say yes to and become a willing instrument to channel to all. We love because He first loved us.

• There are many many ways (should I say billions of ways) to Jesus but only one way to God. Jesus invited all to come to Him, with no exceptions. Samaritan woman, Roman centurion, Gentiles, Pharisees, religious leaders, poor, children, sinners (who knew they were sinners), just to name a few. Jesus was harsh and confrontational to those who thought they were righteous and thus didn’t think they were sinners. All, while remaining in their own background and cultures (including religions), could follow and love Jesus. Same is and should be true now. I know Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus who follow and love Jesus while remaining in their cultural and religious contexts. No two persons come to and follow Jesus the same way.

• The only reality that matters is God’s Kingdom coming on this earth as it is in heaven, now. I like to call this the “Big Reality.” Everything else is an illusion, competing for my and world’s attention from the Big Reality. The main task of spirituality is to discern reality from illusion and to operate out of reality and not be governed by illusion.

• I experienced God when our family was picking wild blueberries along the lazy and unrefined and ancient sloping hill in Alaska, knowing fully that we were competing for the bears’ favorite snack. I had the surreal realization that I might be the first human being to ever set foot on that particular plot of land. It was holy ground. Another experience was when my wife and I were traveling from New Delhi to Jaipur in India and were surrounded by hundreds of butterflies along the road.  We knew that God was greeting and protecting us and our young children back home. I also see God in the faces of my baristas, Angel, Fabiana, and Mariela, who serve me multiple days a week. I heard God when I watched Joaquin Phoenix delivering the best actor speech at the Oscars a few weeks ago. I see God in nature, in small children, and in animals. They have no illusions and thus reflect reality as reality.

• Life is hard, although I would not want to downplay the brighter parts. This has been a hard lesson for me. Most religions don’t know what to do with life’s failures. So when (not if) we fail, most of us scramble to find support and stable ground underneath us in a safe community. Learning to embrace failures as one of life’s greatest teachers is one sure way to grow and mature. Here is another one from Meister Eckhart, “God is not found in the soul by adding anything but by subtracting.” Rather than finding fault in our failures, we should focus on the fruit of failures.

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

WANDERER

I am a wanderer. I wander because as a type seven on the Enneagram, I always have this sense as if I am missing out on something fun and exciting. I want to go on a “magic carpet ride” exploring beyond the accepted boundaries of the horizon. I confess that I have FOMO (fear of missing out). I find myself being drawn to crowds while my wife desperately avoids crowds. This is a tension in our marriage. :) I wander because I feel like the grass is always greener on the other side.

I also wander not because I am hopelessly lost but in order to discover who I am—my true self. Bilbo Baggins said, “All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.” I have experienced from time to time that when I am in brand new situations and contexts or out on the “fringes,” I have “seen” myself much more clearly. I love to travel because it is a pathway for me to discover who I am. I know to whom I belong, but the road back home is less clear. Not only is the road less clear but because it is uniquely my journey.

Saint Teresa of Avila wrote, “The whole way to heaven is heaven itself.”

To wander is to wonder. I cannot fathom wandering without wondering. The wonders we encounter are both external and internal. The most significant wonders that I have been invited to pay attention to are wonders within. The interior wonders color how I see and interpret exterior wonders.

When my family immigrated to the States in 1977, I was 14 years old. For the next 14 years or so, I lived my life as a Korean living in America—my identity was Korean through and through, or so I thought. Fifteen years later, in 1992, I visited Korea for the first time. I remember being excited to visit my motherland. What I quickly realized was that I had become so “American,” I didn’t see myself as a Korean anymore. This confusion of my identity took me to an interior journey of trying to discover who I was and what I had become. I discovered that I was neither Korean nor American, but Korean-American. I was a “hyphenated being”! Words like liminality and bridge began to grab hold of me.

The root meaning of the word wander has its connections to wind and change. Wind is as free as the sky. Wind is a true child of freedom. Wind is also mother to all birds’ movements, aiding their freedom and creativity. “Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?” sings Pocahontas. Not only does wind “carry the colors,” it also carries countless layers of creative climate. In many cultures, wind has many names. Wandering provokes and triggers change. Change is the natural by-product of wanderings. Welcoming change is another name for wandering.

We all are wanderers. The journey in life is never a straight line from origin to destination. It is filled with unexpected turns and twists and dark valleys and breath-taking peaks. We are bound to wander. Sometimes we wander because we have no other choice. To be blunt, we must wander. Our soul is poor and desperate to wander because it is constantly filled with longings. Our soul always remains loyal and faithful to our longings. Our soul is like a homing device to our longings. It is always seeking home.

As such, as wanderers, we meet other wanderers, comparing our notes and ever learning from each other. Finding and deeply connecting with these wanderers who are in similar life stages and challenges is a critical life’s duty for all. Those who wander well are those who pay attention (or listen) to the unexpected unfolding drama of life and those who learn to travel lightly (holding things loosely). Listening is expecting surprises and letting our curiosities guide our life in everyday mundane contexts while being awake to God’s presence. Listening is looking for and celebrating the sacred even in “secular” activities.

“The soul is full of wanderlust. When we suppress the longing to wander in the inner landscapes, something dies within us. The soul and the spirit are wanderers; their place of origin and destination remain unknown; they are dedicated to the discovery of what is unknown and strange.”

— John O'Donohue

Holding things loosely doesn’t mean we have no convictions or strong beliefs. It means we hold those convictions loosely and remain open and willing to be transformed in the way we see. In life, we are guided more by the questions we ask rather than dogmatic answers and beliefs. To me, this is a quality of being vulnerable. Wanderers are vulnerable creatures.

Paula D’Arcy says, “God comes to you disguised as your life.”

In the end, we wander because we all are guests, strangers, and students to life. Nobody is already at home; instead, all are journeying to discover our pathway home. The idea of all of us being guests, strangers, and students to life itself levels the playing field. No one is up or down, in or out, or with or without. It is a posture that beckons humility and surrender.

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

“SEOUL” + MESSY SPIRITUALITY

Two weeks ago, I was told that my dad has entered the last stages of his life. He had two major cancer surgeries in the last two years and has fought valiantly. He just turned 90 earlier this year. That puts his birth year at 1930. He has gone through the Korean War and the aftermath, which my mind cannot fathom. I was told that his father (my grandfather) passed away when my dad was 18 years old. That would have been two years before the War. As he was the oldest son (with 7 other siblings), the responsibility of taking care of the family fell on him. He did everything under the sun to provide for his extended family, including running multiple businesses (he once told me his dream was to be a medical doctor—knowing my dad, he would have been a good one). His last and biggest business attempt was to build and run an underground shopping center right in the heart of Seoul. That was in the early 1970s, when an underground shopping center was a brand new concept. Now, Seoul would not be Seoul without the ubiquitous underground shopping centers. The business failed spectacularly, which forced my parents to move to the U.S. in 1977.

Because my dad was taking care of the extended family (and living with them) by making income, my mom had to accept the main role of running the house with at least a dozen people at any given time. When I was born in 1963, my grandmother was living with us as well as well as my grandmother’s mother-in-law. So that’s 4 generations under one roof. Not to mention a dog or two thrown in the mix…

When the news came to me that our family would be moving to U.S., I was naively excited thinking about the new opportunities and possibilities. It was sort of like a hitting the reset button. Let’s just say I was not thriving in the Korean education system. But that story is for some other time. After we moved, as was the case for most immigrant families, both of my parents worked and worked hard. This meant that my sister (who is 4 years younger than me) and I were alone during the day to fend for ourselves until my parents came home later in the evening, 6 days a week for the most part. I was probably too emotionally immature to know what was going on inside of me at the time. I simply was too busy with my own life and stuffed my time with friends and a new-found freedom.

In hindsight, I realize that I desired intimacy with my parents, which rarely came to me. This is by no means an indictment against my parents and I am sympathetic to their surroundings and contexts they were in. I have no illusion of harboring bitterness and resentment toward my parents. I know they loved me the best way they knew how. And I felt that love. They simply didn’t have the bandwidth to care for my needs (which I didn’t know I had) growing up in Korea as well as the early immigrant years.

As an Enneagram 7, one of the tell-tale early childhood experiences is neglect. My parents did not reject or neglect intentionally. Thus, the way I coped was to think of possibilities and options in the future. One of my driving needs has become to avoid the pain of not having intimacy by putting my mind to work and to work overtime. 

Even now, at the end of my father's life, I see myself desiring intimacy with my parents. While I know that the intimacy I seek is mine to own (and is colored by my own ideas of intimacy), I am accepting things as they are without judgment and condemnation. I think I know the danger of seeking to fulfill my desire for intimacy that results in imprisoning my parents with my expectations of them. To turn the table around, I am also painfully aware that my idea of intimacy is filtered by my own experiences or lack thereof and how my children experience and desire intimacy from me may or may not meet their needs. So welcome to the broken world of Chong…

I am reminded of Thomas Merton’s penetrating words…

“The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.”

Yes, I accept my parents’ love without my filtering and drive for my own needs. Our blinded internal needs can easily suffocate others to fit into the image and reflection we create for our own benefit. The lesson I am grappling with is…  while I come clean with my own brokenness, I dare not force others to fill my selfish needs. Ah… and to do this without self-condemnation while experiencing the “permanent climate of divine kindness” (John O’Donohue’s definition of grace). This is messy spirituality at work.

---

Subscribe

Subscribe

KOBE

On the morning of January 26th, part of me died. My son, Michael, texted me, “Dad. . . Kobe died in a helicopter crash. I can’t believe it.” I could not believe it either. I did not want to believe it. Kobe was special to me, because Michael and I bonded over watching Kobe and the Lakers. I had my Magic, Kareem, Worthy, Coop, and the 80’s Showtime Lakers, but to bond with my son because of Kobe—that meant the world to me. Not to mention how special of a player he was. I’ve been reading stories of how he impacted lives and became a family man, especially after his moral failure. 

Below is one of those stories that stood out to me. This is a story from Draymond Green during the 2016 finals (after Green got suspended for game 5 and ultimately cost the Warriors its championship to the LeBron led Cavaliers).

This story is poignant because you can get a glimpse into Kobe’s “mamba” mentality.

‘Kobe reached out to me… It’s almost like crying to your older brother like, ‘Kobe, I don’t know what to do, these people trying to take me out, police trying to take me out, the media is trying to take me out, everybody’s trying to take me out and I don’t know what to do’. It just felt like my career was caving in on me. ‘To get that call… he told me, he said, ‘Draymond, 99 percent of the world is okay with mediocrity, or worse. But, at best, mediocrity. You’re chasing something so much bigger that, how do you ever expect anyone to understand?’ ‘For me, that was all I needed to hear. Especially coming from a guy that I loved since I was a kid, that I have the utmost respect for, that I ended up building a relationship with. ‘That meant the world to me. Kobe said f*** everybody, just f*** everybody. I was able to hold on to that and rally and just keep going and build on that. ‘For me, Kobe was a real guy, a special, special person.’

Kobe’s word inspires me, because of his passion and relentless pursuit of something daunting and greater than himself. Kobe was a special talent, one of those who appears once in a generation. Kobe’s inspiration comes not only from his talent but his maniacal single-hearted devotion and discipline to something he was already extremely talented at. He pushed himself beyond the known limits and the accepted norms of possibilities. He was not willing to drown in mediocrity, and that mamba mentality inspired a countless number of the next generation of players and lives, including my son and Draymond. Jerry West who marked Kobe before anyone else and brought him to the Lakers said, “people talk about mamba mentality and all that. But Kobe didn’t have to create that. It was already there.” To use Draymond’s words, Kobe was “real and special,” because he exemplified pure dedication. His wasn’t just talk, he put in the work. I am seeing how being real and putting words into action appeals to the next generation. Being real and authentic simply inspires.

I am absolutely convinced that all of us—with no exceptions—have both mediocrity and brilliance in us. I reject the notion that some people are just mediocre while some are simply brilliant. To be sure, Kobe was both. While I am clueless about the percentage breakdowns, we all (as unrepeatably unique beings) have brilliance and excellence that is God-ordained. Our life’s journey is to uncover and discover the God-given brilliance and use this gift to inspire the world. Kobe operated out of his God-given brilliance and inspired the world in his own unique way. “The most important thing is to try and inspire people so that they can be great at whatever they want to do,” Kobe said. Brilliance emerged out of mediocrity is the true brilliance.

 [I have a special treat for you… I am also sharing Michael’s letter to Kobe, with his permission, of course. His is all heart. So read on.]

Dear Kobe,

I never thought that a celebrity death would hit me as hard as this did. I grew up watching you on my TV and for 20 years I followed your every move. If I couldn’t watch the game, I checked your stats just in case you did something that only Kobe could do. Like put up 81 points in a single game. Nothing seemed impossible for you and that’s what captivated me and millions of others.  

I write this as a personal letter because aside from my dad, you inspired me and undoubtedly a whole generation to start playing basketball. As a dinky Asian child on the court, it felt silly to be out there by myself, practicing your pivots and fadeaways and pretending to be you in clutch moments. Hyping myself up to an imaginary Staples Center after nailing a pull-up jumpshot on probably my 3rd or 4th attempt on that janky outdoor court with nobody else to be seen. But as silly as it seemed, you were that guy that made it seem possible. Mamba mentality.  

When I was in high school, I was mulling over quitting the basketball team after seeing that everyone was bigger, faster, stronger, and just flat out better than me. But I saw an interview after the finals where you encouraged Adam Morrison of all people, saying that he was an integral part of the team even though all he did was ride the end of the bench day after day. And that oddly encouraged me to keep playing. 

Of course after your death, life seems pretty surreal. I’m taking time to appreciate every close relationship that I have and holding on to this perspective and trying to bring it into all other areas of my life. Most importantly I am reexamining the missional calling of Christ. When life just abruptly ends like that, even more so when one of your heroes just leaves the earth so suddenly. What really is the purpose of this one life we have to live? Is it not to make much of Christ’s name and to take his name to places and lives where we are called? Kobe you inspired me and millions of others in profound ways, but what is the point of all of that if we don’t use that inspiration for things that truly matter while we’re living on this earth.

You were far from a perfect man Kobe, everybody knows about your stumbles. but you inspired us with your work ethic, drive, passion, and mentality. So thank you. Thank you on behalf of me and many many others. Thank you Kobe Bean. Truly an incredible loss of an incredible human.  

Michael Hesed Kim

---

GOD IS LOVE

Today’s post is all about God’s love.

Apostle John’s description of God is both concise and profound: God is love.

The founder of Taize community (in France), Brother Roger, adds a poignant twist by saying, “God is nothing but love”. This deeply resonates with me.

I also resonate with the song, Ubi Caritas that says, “where love is, there is God also.” This love is not the self-centered kind, but one that is self-emptying. This self-emptying love is the very nature of God and He cannot deny the very existence of Himself. God cannot not love. God cannot choose to love. God loves because He is love. 

This love is never possessive or controlling. Love never compromises or interferes with His will to grant us complete freedom. The only way to receive love is to respond to Him in freedom and open cooperation. Imagine a picture of Jesus knocking on our soul’s door (Rev. 3:20).

He never forces His way in. Apostle Paul writes (1 Corinthians 13:4-8, ESV):

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.

In his letter to the Romans (8:37-39, ESV), he remarkably sums it up this way:  

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Love is the beginning and the end. Love never gets distracted or altered. Even when God disciplines, He disciplines out of perfect one-sided love, neither punitive nor retributive. Love bears all things. Because He cannot not love, He does not withhold His love at any time. He must pour out His love constantly.

This unending love is what governs the universe. It has to if (but really because) God is love.

The most eye-opening book I’ve read in the last couple of years is written by Ilia Delio, titled The Unbearable Wholeness of Being: God, Evolution, and the Power of Love. It blew my preconceived notion of God and began to allow me to integrate things that I didn’t know how to put together.

Listen to Delio’s words:

Creation is not merely gift of God; it is being-in-love with God. . . God is not the supernatural being above but the supranatural center of everything that exists. . . That is, we are not rescued from the world by divine grace; rather, we are saved or made whole in and through the world by cooperating with divine love. . . Because divine love is totally other-oriented, the whole cosmos is a theophany, a revelation of God’s glory (69)

God does what God is—what is true to God’s nature and thus what is divine—love. (71)

Yes, God does what God is—love. Love is the essence of who God is, and all of God’s actions are governed by love. No action of God deviates from love. Sin is like saying no to this love. Sin is “resistance to love,” as Delio puts it.

I also believe that the theme of the entire Bible is love. The prevalent Old Testament (the Hebrew scriptures) theme of hesed (חֶסֶד) depicts God’s loving-kindness, goodness, and mercy. (My wife and I were so captivated by this concept of hesed that we named one of our sons, Hesed). The life and death of Jesus Christ is the ultimate demonstration of God’s unending love for the world. Jesus also made sure that we, as His followers, continue living out this divine love by loving God, loving ourselves, and loving our neighbors (which includes loving all peoples—including our perceived enemies).

To experience union with God through Christ is to cooperate with God’s unpossessive and self-emptying love. As we cooperate with God’s very nature of love, we bring God’s kingdom to this earth to “fill it, subdue it, and to have dominion over all things in it.”

---

REFLECTION QUESTION

What word or phrase resonates with you or challenges you?

WHO WE ARE AND WHO WE ARE BECOMING

LOVE IS THE UNSTOPPABLE FORCE

One significant repeated pattern in the Bible is the fact that God “calls us by name”—every single time.

God doesn’t address us by saying, unnamed “you” or “slave.”

We are not lost in the crowd.

Isaiah 43:1 records, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”

God tells us that we are His and that He calls us by name based on who we are and where we are in life. His calling for us is built on the reality that we are all unique beings, not one of us the same. Both the outcome of the calling and who we are and who we are becoming matter in this equation. We are not to be just slavish over the tasks God gives us.

For years I was lost in the tasks I was performing. It seemed to me that at the end of the day, I didn’t matter. My emotions and the deep desires of my soul didn’t matter.

“One of the deepest longings in the human heart is the desire to be loved for yourself alone…” captures John O’Donohue in Eternal Echoes.

If this is true (I say “if” but I’ve experienced this to be true in my journey), then this was the desperate void that my soul was crying out for. For years, I mainly operated out of an obedient posture of following Jesus. I was willing to go wherever and do whatever in order to “get the job done” of reaching all peoples with the gospel. To be honest, initially, it was out of guilt that I strongly felt that I needed to surrender and give up my life, including my “name,” all for Jesus, because I believed that was what Jesus required. 

Later on, my motivation in following Jesus moved from guilt to obedience to the glory of God. The guilt phase didn’t last long, I must admit. As for the motivation of obedience, I mobilized others out of and toward this motivation. I myself functioned out of the motif that partial obedience was no obedience at all. I used to teach others by quoting Hudson Taylor, “If Jesus is not Lord of all, He is not Lord at all.”

Over time, the glory of God sounded significantly worthier than obedience. Even then, what I saw in myself was the familiar posture of “dying to myself” (which is not bad) and emphasizing that it is not about my glory but God’s glory (which is not wrong). Neither was bad nor wrong, but incomplete and fragmented and thus less than whole. What I began realizing was that under guilt, obedience, and the glory of God frameworks, I still did not matter. I was to die, surrender, and give up. There was no room for the discovery of who I am and who I am becoming.

In recent years, I have been operating out of love being the foundational framework for my being, identity, and work.

Isaiah 43:4 records, “Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you. . .” God calls us by name, redeems us, and protects us, because He loves us.

This love has at its origin the firm foundation that God created us and formed us (see Isaiah 43:1) and that God knows us more intimately than we can ever know ourselves.

In the gospels, Jesus sums up the entire Law and the Prophets by commanding us to, “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” and to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:34-40).

I am who I am because of God’s love. I am to do what I do because of God’s love. Loving God is the only right response, flowing out of who I am and who I am becoming. This act of loving God is identical to loving my neighbors (which is to love people or peoples who are very different from me as well as who I consider to be my enemies) and loving myself.

Ultimately, God doesn’t waste anything. He accomplishes His purpose both in the world and in us. Love is the unstoppable force both in causality and outcome.

Thomas Merton writes, “Can one say that by love the soul receives the very ‘form’ of God? In Saint Bernard’s language this form, this divine kindness, is the identity we were made for” (The Sign of Jonas, 276).

I am choosing to submit to this love. As a result, we obey because we love. We bring glory to God because we love. It is a win-win-win scenario, which only God can accomplish.

---

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

What is your name? How are you operating out of who you are?

---

LISTENING

WHO DO WE LISTEN TO?

St. Bernard, with God-given wisdom, once said, “You wish to see? Listen.”

Too often we listen for only what we want to hear. Listening and seeing are two bedrock spiritual foundations upon which our life is built. To whose voice we listen or choose to listen is a key spiritual discipline. Over the years, I’ve chosen to hear from a wide range voices--from my harsh inner critic to anything that would build my ego. Both are detrimental to listening deeply to my own soul’s voice. I can be my harshest critic, which can drive me toward a victim mentality and toward a belief that there is nothing good in me. I can also engage in self-flattery, choosing to ignore and block out honest but life-giving advice and instead park myself in the pool of accolades and praises. A still small voice that is in me (which is often God speaking) is difficult to uncover and decipher. When this still small voice comes, it often comes in a split-second intuitive space, leaving one to wonder where it came from. I’m still learning to catch the still small voice, and the only way to grow is to practice what I hear by putting it into action. More often than not, action will prove whether what I heard was God or my own thinking.

Going beyond our individual listening, who we listen to as cultures, societies, organizations, and churches gives us a real time peek into where we are as collectives.

What’s accepted as normal or ludicrous (or anywhere in between) and thus what we choose to listen to tells more about us than what we believe. What we choose to listen to is a revealing precursor to unformed beliefs that we all have. What we listen to also reveals a great deal about the assumptions that we don’t even know we have. What is at work here is blindness that prevents us from listening, since we have already dismissed the idea or thought as being irrelevant. Assumptions are full of peril if we aren’t aware of what they are, especially because we are governed by them to live our lives.

Thus, discerning whose voices we must listen to is critical for the human spiritual journey. Based on my own life experiences, I’ve learned to give more “air time” to the people below.

>Those voices that are not controlled by money or livelihood. I’ve done this myself. One key question for me over the years has been, “Am I saying this because I’m “paid” to say this?” For those people who are not controlled by money, there is freedom and integrity in what they have to say. It is not to say that these voices are always right. These untethered voices are outside the systems and structures that have been accepted as the norm. In many ways, these voices are the prophetic and apostolic voices we must listen to. As prophets and apostles, they are outside the system and on the edge. We must listen to the “weirdos,” as Rachel Held Evans says. This is also what Walter Brueggemann calls “the voice of marginality.”

>Those voices that embody passions. These are passions that have been proven over time and thus not selfish, self-centered, or skittish. They are passions that have potential to bring good into the world.

>Those voices that are arising from the poor, neglected, and powerless. This point is tied to the first point above. Again, I am not saying that these voices are inherently good or better voices than voices that come from those who have power and control. But if they pass the selfish agenda test, then I will surely lend them my ears. To me, this is also where listening to young people enters in. Their restless idealistic groanings offer much needed indictment to the present and fresh insights into the future.

>Those voices that represent different cultures around the world. These voices must be heard as equals!  Assuming that they meet the above 3 criteria, I’ve learned so much from those whose background and culture are very different from mine. The Bible comes alive. I’ve learned about my own culture and how I behave by being around people who are different from me.

>Those voices that have proven to listen to others and listen deeply. Don’t listen to anyone who is not willing to listen and who is ready to pronounce judgement and to “lay down the law.” Do lend your ears to those who have shown humility in listening to others, especially to the marginal voices.

---

REFLECTION QUESTION

Who and/or what do you listen to? Where does your heart go to listen?

---

THE GOSPEL ECONOMY

A mission of Jesus was to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.”

The entire Bible can be read this way. The question is not who is the afflicted or the comfortable. We all are both. Afflicted and comfortable. That is the contradictory truth in all human drama as well as in our own lives. The fact that I can reside in the camp of the afflicted one moment and the comfortable the other makes my own journey of sanctification challenging and messy. I wonder if this is why Jesus warns us not to judge others. Judging can easily turn into comparing my state of affliction with someone else’s comfort, which leads to condemning the other. If we acknowledge the fact that we all are both, we can develop sympathy and compassion for others as well as for our own souls.

This mission of Jesus should naturally (more precisely forcibly) spill over into human governing systems and paradigms, accepted norms of organizations, and the foundational ways of seeing reality. These systemic ways of organizing our modern lives are deeply encrusted with an often unchallenged belief, which Richard Rohr calls, “meritocratic economy” over “gift economy.”

Rohr equates meritocracy with capitalism and says,

The first economy is capitalism, which is based on quid pro quo, reward and punishment thinking, and a retributive notion of justice. This much service or this much product requires this much payment or this much reward. It soon becomes the entire (and I do mean entire!) frame for all of life, our fundamental relationships (even marriage and children), basic self-image (“I deserve; you owe me; or I will be good and generous if it helps me, too”), and a faulty foundation for our relationship with God.

Rohr goes on to describe a gift economy…

Now the only way we can do the great turnaround and understand this is if we’ve lived through at least one experience of being given to without earning. It’s called forgiveness, unconditional love, and mercy. If we’ve never experienced unearned, undeserved love, we will stay in the capitalist worldview where 2 + 2 = 4.

In Asia, we refer to this meritocratic economy as reciprocity, which sounds less harsh and wooden. But in the end, underneath the veneer of reciprocity, there is a strong quid pro quo mentality. (This is not to ignore a certain harmonious beauty within reciprocity culture as well as the fairness we all appreciate in meritocracy culture.) If there is ever the gospel economy, this is it. Jesus expects us to operate out of the gift economy. Talk about afflicting the comfortable. I must admit that gift economy still feels foreign to me. I feel like I must earn my value and worth.

---

REFLECTION QUESTION

How will you live out of a gift economy today?

---

FREEDOM IS MY NAME

Below is Thomas Merton at his best from his journal book, The Signs of Jonas.

God, Who owns all things, leaves them all to themselves. He never takes them for His own, the way we take them for our own and destroy them. He leaves them to themselves. He keeps giving them all that they are, asking no thanks of them save that they should receive from Him and be loved and nurtured by Him, and that they should increase and multiply, and so praise Him.

He saw that all things were good, and He did not enjoy them. He saw that all things were beautiful and He did not want them. His love is not like ours. His love is unpossessive. His love is pure because it needs nothing.

God is His own law and the law of all things is in His freedom. Therefore the stars serve Him freely and the sun rises with a song of joy and the clean gentle speechless moon gets down to her bed without protest.

Every wave of the sea is free. Every river on earth proclaims its own liberty. . . (pgs. 346-347)

Earlier in the book, Merton captures a vintage Mertonism. I lifted the phrase below “free as the sky” as my blog name.

To belong to God I have to belong to myself. I have to be alone—at least interiorly alone. This means the constant renewal of a decision. I cannot belong to people. None of me belongs to anybody but God. Absolute loneliness of the imagination, the memory, the will. My love for everybody is equal, neutral and clean. No exclusiveness. Simple and free as the sky because I love everybody and am possessed by nobody, not held, not bound. (253, The Sign of Jonas)

Freedom (small letter f) is my name. Freedom is at the core of who I am and how I foundationally express my love as love can be expressed in so many colorful ways. My thoughts, actions (or reactions) come out of this place of freedom. When exercised right, freedom is my gift to the world. The greatest freedom is freedom to be as Merton alluded above. To be how God created every creature to be without comparison and judgment. I am me and cannot be someone else, not even my false self (which disguises as real me). And I cannot force, coax, subversively encourage others to be like me. I praise God that “the law of all things is in His freedom.” Stars are what they are. Moon is what it is. Every wave of the sea is what it is. Nothing else. God Who possesses everything chooses not to be possessive. God’s love is never possessive!  Ironically, we as His creatures constantly struggle with possessiveness and control. No wonder God’s love Is not like ours. No wonder we can ultimately and purely depend on His self-emptying love!

---

What many call Jesus’ mission statement is found in Luke 4:18-19 (which He is quoting from Isaiah 61:1-2, omitting the latter half of verse 2).

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

I love the wholistic emphasis Jesus captures based on liberty. In John 8:32, Jesus says, “and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” The truth in this context refers to Jesus Himself. It is only in Him we experience freedom. As Michael Card sings, there is “freedom for those who obey” Jesus.

Back to Merton

he ends his journal book with this paragraph…

O children of men! Don’t you know that God refuses to be seen? If you only could see how unlike our glory is His glory, you would die for love of Him. But how can we believe who seek glory one from another? If we only knew that God seeks glory by giving glory. He does not ask us to give Him any glory we have not received from Him. . . And where can we find Him to give Him back what we have received from Him? The moment we have found Him, He is already gone! (348, The Sign of Jonas)

Someone has said that God refuses to be known by our intellectual pursuit of knowledge. God is ultimately shy because He doesn’t need anything from us to be validated as God. He is I am Who I am.

---

REFLECTION QUESTION

What does it mean, to be who you freely are, reflecting the very image of God? What does that look like?

HELLO

---

In my first entry, I wanted to share the heart and inspiration behind the name of my blog and what inspired me to create it.

I decided to name my blog free as the sky, because freedom is at the core of who I am. I deeply desire all humanity to experience freedom, the freedom to be who we each are as who God created each of us to be.

I have come to this point in my journey, having traveled through intimate involvement with the evangelical missions movement for more than 30 years. This experience has been both a blessing and a baggage for me. I am who I am because of how evangelicalism has shaped me over the years. At the same time, it also blinded me to other realities of faith traditions (that were outside of my own) and eventually reached its capacity to offer me answers that I was looking for (really more about questions than answers—It’s not even to say I have questions in life. It’s the realization that I [or my existence] am a question that only God can answer). I didn’t know there were other “deep wells” to drink from.

What I discovered

out of desperation more than anything else…having run out of options to turn to…

is the contemplative or mystical traditions of writing, which then began to speak to me in ways that finally gave my soul the language and words to describe my life’s journey.

I am not an ex-evangelical (some coined the term exvangelical), although I have left certain facets of evangelicalism behind and thus am profoundly sympathetic to ex-evangelicals. I don’t really want to be labeled (true to a free nature).

Naturally, I have been filtering the evangelical stream (including more narrowly the evangelical missions stream) through the contemplative lens and seeing significant limitations and honestly how suffocating it is to navigate life within it. My language now is more of God’s Kingdom reigning in all facets of God’s creation globally. Action without contemplation is too damaging (whatever we happen to be doing)—violating the foundational premise that we are human beings, not merely doings—which inevitably leads to creation and management of hectic and superficial religion all over the world. In the end (perhaps penultimate) from my vantage point, I desire all (peoples, languages, tribes, and nations) to be who God created them to be without someone (or something) forcing them to be who they are not.

This to me is a true reflection of God’s Kingdom (The Big Reality) coming on this earth!

There are two perspectives from which I write my blog. One will be to voice my critiques, questions, offerings, and ways forward in missions, integrating the contemplative stream. This undoubtedly will seep through in my writings both explicitly and implicitly. More foundationally and passionately, however, this is my personal faith journey riddled with dark valleys and high peaks and uneasy questions and answers and ultimately the shedding of my false self and discovering my true self that I think will speak to pockets of people who are seeking how to live this life as God’s Kingdom citizens.

-Chong Kim