THE VISITOR

This week, I would like to share with you a Korean poem. A special treat for Korean speaking readers. Don’t’ worry if you don’t read Korean. I attempt to provide you with my own translation into English. I know it is extremely tricky to translate a poem from another language. Consider this more of a paraphrase than an actual translation. Hopefully I have not butchered the poet’s original meaning. 

방문객

정현종

사람이 온다는 건
실은 어마어마한 일이다.
그는
그의 과거와
현재와
그리고
그의 미래와 함께 오기 때문이다.
한 사람의 일생이 오기 때문이다.
부서지기 쉬운
그래서 부서지기도 했을
마음이 오는 것이다---그 갈피를
아마 바람은 더듬어볼 수 있을
마음.
내 마음이 그런 바람을 흉내낸다면
필경 환대가 될 것이다.

The Visitor by Hyun Jong Jung

The event of another human being coming to visit me 
is quite an astonishing endeavor.
It is precisely because the person arrives with all of
one’s past
present
and future.
Because the person arrives with one’s entire life.
The person arrives with the fragility of one’s heart
and thus, could have been heartbroken.  The lostness of one’s soul
can perhaps be caressed by wind.
If I who welcome can imitate the gentle caress of the wind, 
it will undoubtedly be hospitality.

---

I love the gentle and almost coy tone of this poem. Yet it is bold and transparent at the same time. The topic of being visited by visitors is something we all can relate to as human beings, sometimes welcomingly and sometimes grudgingly, and sometimes numbingly. 

The visitor is who one is because of one’s past, present, and future that will be carved out. This entire person with one’s whole package of life is sacred and weighty (literally means glory in the Old Testament language). This poem beckons honor and generosity, granting the healthy benefit of the doubt to those who visit us. 

There is brokenness and thus tenderness in all of us. Some don’t want to admit there is brokenness in their life for multiple reasons. I would press the point that the sooner we accept our brokenness, the sooner we will experience grace. “There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in,” sings Leonard Cohen in Anthem. And sooner we embrace our own brokenness, the better we are able to embrace others’ brokenness. No solidarity is as strong and powerful as the bond of accepted brokenness as human beings, it seems. 

Our life is sacred and weighty because we are broken. Our brokenness is a highway in discovering the very sacredness of our life. 

Wind can be many things. The unpredictable and free nature of wind is what makes wind wind. It can also be soothing. I can vividly remember sitting outside on our back deck during a sabbatical in the mornings, while the sun was warm, sometimes I could feel the gentle cool breeze rising from the ground and I would quietly whisper “Aaahhhh.” Coupled with Thomas Merton’s journal in one hand and warm coffee in the other hand, when the cool breeze visited me at the time of my heart’s consent with Merton’s words, I had likened it to be the intimate visitation from the Lord that morning. 

How does one imitate wind? Today, I imagine wind as dancing. A kind of dancing that is non-intrusive but cuddly, embracing, and befriending. . . Ultimately inviting others to join in the dance. . . 

Hospitality is brokenness befriending brokenness in a non-judgmental and safe space where reciprocal healing and restoration of our soul take place. And we will all be appropriately warmed or cooled by the wind of hospitality. 

AFTER THE GOOSE THAT ROSE LIKE THE GOD OF GEESE

This week’s poem is titled, After the Goose That Rose Like the God of Geese, by Martin Espada. Strange title indeed, but this poem remained with me for days after first reading it. As you will see, it also has to do with bread, continuing the theme from last week. Again, I invite you to ponder along with me. Here it is below.

Everything that lives is Holy.      

—William Blake

After the phone call about my father far away,
after the next-day flight canceled by the blizzard,
after the last words left unsaid between us,
after the harvest of the organs at the morgue,
after the mortuary and cremation of the body,
after the box of ashes shipped to my door by mail,
after the memorial service for him in Brooklyn,

I said: I want to feed the birds, I want to feed bread
to the birds. I want to feed bread to the birds at the park.

After the walk around the pond and the war memorial,
after the signs at every step that read: Do Not Feed The Geese,
after the goose that rose from the water like the god of geese,
after the goose that shrieked like a demon from the hell of geese,
after the goose that scattered the creatures smaller than geese,
after the hard beak, the wild mouth taking bread from my hand,

 there was quiet in my head, no cacophony of the dead
lost in the catacombs, no mosquito hum of condolences,
only the next offering of bread raised up in my open hand,
the bread warm on the table of my truce with the world.

---

This poem starts out with an epigraph from William Blake. This sentence alone is worth a page or two to unpack which I will not do here, but it sets the context for Espada’s poem. One thing we are invited to consider is why Espada included this epigraph in his poem.

This poem is divided into 4 stanzas: 1st and 3rd stanzas are couched under “afters” which is a collection of reminiscent memories of what happened in two events; 2nd short stanza is the connection that explains how he got from his 1st stanza to the 3rd stanza. The final stanza reads almost like a quiet but resolute awakening of sorts.

The first stanza of “after” is filled with grief, a mishap, a hint of regret, and a series of actions that were needed to bring some semblance of closure to his father’s passing. I sense almost numbing words being spoken without emotional awareness or connections.

Then the italicized stanza by the author of “I want to-s.” The “I want to-s” grow in impulsive crescendo, moving from vaguer “I want to” to more specific “I want to.” (I wonder if the author thought, “what the heck?” and was tempted to ignore the seed of the original impulse.) What was initially spoken is random impulsion that the author not only thought about but said to himself. We all think about all kinds of stuff all day long. I certainly do. But to declare to oneself requires certain conviction and inner resoluteness. And the most impressive thing about this is that the author takes it seriously enough to build specificity and to do something about what the author said to himself. One invitation here for me to consider is: What do I want to do? Are there some specificities to what I want to do? Not to over-spiritualize things here but I see a correlation with one of Jesus’ questions: What do you want me to do for you? I would observe that as I pursue Christ in me and me in Christ, these two questions become one. And there is no separation between what I want to do and what I would ask Jesus to do for me.

The 3rd stanza is an action taken after the “I want to.” One line that caught my eye this time is “after the signs at every step that read: Do Not Feed The Geese.” There are bureaucratic systems and structures in place that discourage and attempt to put a stop to what we want to do. Sometimes, we must break rules to pursue after what we want to do or to say it slightly differently, what God has called us to do. The author ignores the signs at every step to continue feeding the birds.

---

My incomplete and ongoing version goes something like this. . .

After I had grown weary and worn out by leadership burdens and responsibilities,

After my long-awaited yearlong sabbatical began,

After Kobe and my father died within a span of month,

After the pandemic emerged as a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic,

After discovering a heaven-sent rhythm of rest and renewal,

After experiencing death, deconstruction, and a newfound desire,

I said: I want to communicate. I want to communicate by writing. I want to write a blog. I want to write a book for God-seeking Korean-speaking people.

“My 3rd stanza” is currently unfolding but the “Do Not Feed The Geese” signs are visible everywhere I turn. There are more than enough signs that tell me what I should or should not say or write. Most of these signs are stemming from the traditional evangelicalism box both in theology as well as in missiological practices. I am learning how to break rules properly and address issues that are foundational and existential in nature based on my life’s journey.

---

Then the 4th stanza of unexpected realization set in, “quiet in my head.” All noises, both external and internal, dissipated. What was left with the “after-s” “was only the next offering of bread.” It is as if the world stopped, and the author finally was able to “see” what was plainly in front of him. What started out with grief followed by random impulse and subsequent action ended with the realization of the now. Everything melted away, and the author embraced what was the author’s truce with the world.

ALL BREAD

I shared last week in one of the prompts and practices encouraging you to read poetry. Speaking of which, in the next few weeks, I would like to share a few poems that I have reflected on this year, including a brief reflective commentary. As I have done, I would like to invite you to do the same. Nobody reads and interprets the same poem with undifferentiated musings and feelings. Who you are and where you are in life dictates myriads of interpretations. In a way, how you read poems reveals more of who and where you are in life’s journey. As such, I bare what I am processing in the context of my life and reality in these posts. 

The first poem I would like to share is a poem by Margaret Atwood titled All Bread. Here it is below. 

All Bread by Margaret Atwood

All bread is made of wood,
cow dung, packed brown moss,
the bodies of dead animals, the teeth
and backbones, what is left
after the ravens. This dirt
flows through the stems into the grain,
into the arm, nine strokes
of the axe, skin from a tree,
good water which is the first
gift, four hours.

Live burial under a moist cloth,
a silver dish, the row
of white famine bellies
swollen and taut in the oven,
lungfuls of warm breath stopped
in the heat from an old sun.

Good bread has the salt taste
of your hands after nine
strokes of the axe, the salt
taste of your mouth, it smells
of its own small death, of the deaths
before and after.

Lift these ashes
into your mouth, your blood;
to know what you devour
is to consecrate it,
almost. All bread must be broken
so it can be shared. Together
we eat this earth.

---

I find this poem profoundly spiritual; it captures the unending cycle of life and death (death and life, if you like) which is nature at work, which we are part of. . . Simple staple of food like bread (or rice or corn) arrives at our mouths as a culmination from many deaths. Many had to die in order to nourish us and give us life. There is such beauty of irony and the pinnacle of contradiction (this may be the grandest contradictions of all) here. 

I like the notion of “four hours.” Bread making is slow, even if it is produced in mass. I remember a French chef telling me that in America, consumerism drives bread making. In France, bread making is part of its culture. Even as I write this, I am reminded of bringing a warm freshly baked baguette from a local bakery to where we were staying in Paris, years ago. I likened the notion of “four hours” to be a subtle invitation to meditate on how bread comes to us, with deaths and the “first gift,” good water. It is also an invitation to not fast track or speed up the natural process of bread making or if you like, life making. We are who we are because of many deaths before us. We live because “others” died. There simply is no other way, it seems.

There is poignant reminder of “the row of white famine bellies swollen” as we see the bread rising in the oven. As we fill our bellies, we are reminded to those of famine bellies. It is a stark reminder of those who are experiencing dire poverty and under-privileged. Later, the author talks about “All bread must be broken so it can be shared.” 

Eating bread is almost an act of holy consecration as we are reminded of many deaths before and after. The last few lines of Mayr Oliver’s poem, Fall Song, echoes the same spiritual truth, “everything lives, shifting from one bright vision to another, forever in these momentary pastures.”

“Together, we eat this earth” is a call toward solidarity for all humanity, as well as an invitation to take what is given daily to us with great reverence and humility. Holiness can be accessed and experienced in mundane contexts in everyday life.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | EMBRACE NON-DUALISTIC THINKING AND APPROACH TO LIFE

This week’s post will be the last of the prompts & practices series. Thanks for reading and reflecting with me on these.

This non-dualistic way of life is probably the most challenging way of life for modern people as we need to unlearn what we have been taught to believe. This “both-and” approach to life requires holding both good and bad, sacred and profane, and life and death.

Practically speaking, learn to hold both positive and negative emotions together without judgment or comments. Learn also to give compassion and the benefit of the doubt to others as both you and others may be right. Learn to find God, yourself, and others amid contradictions, tensions, and uncertainties.

Practices

• Read poetry. While words are inherently dualistic, poetry has the capacity to hold contradictions together without judgment. Invite yourself as the poet (I), the one the poet is addressing (you), or just an observer. Allow yourself to interpret the poetry with your subjective lens.

• Go to an art museum. Find a painting (or sculpture) or two that resonate with your soul at the time. Ask yourself why you may be drawn to the painting.

• When you listen to your friend’s story next time or witness an event that catches your eye, try not to rush into judgment. Receive them as they are without needing to correct, confront, or advise.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | MAKE YOUR SPIRITUAL LIFE NATURAL AND NATURAL LIFE SPIRITUAL

“’Everything that lives is Holy.” William Blake

Integrating your spiritual life with your natural life and vice versa is critical grounding work of establishing communion with God, yourself, and with otherness. Communion means wholeness. A process of sanctification involves a movement from disjointed and compartmentalized selves to whole self. Learning and growing to piece together, relate, and integrate our “separate” life into one whole life is at stake here. No other challenge is bigger than integrating our spiritual and natural life together.

Church sanctuary is not the only place that is holy. The reverence you bring into the church sanctuary, live it out everywhere you go and whoever you interact with, including nature around you.

Practices

• Steward your body well by walking 30 minutes a day. Brisk walking is encouraged.

• Discern spiritual voices through the five senses. Pay attention to what you see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. In that, listen to the still small voices that come to you. These voices may be so faint that you may not recognize them initially. If you are not sure, test the voices and follow through. By testing, we grow in discernment.

• Discern spiritual voices through everyday life. Pay attention to surprises, interruptions, and mundane activities. What may be random to you may contain some spiritual discoveries. At the end of the day, see if you can recall any spiritual discoveries during the day.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | GO OUT IN NATURE

Frequently, place yourself in nature away from man-made structures and the environment to soak and overwhelm your senses in nature. Speaking of ocular sense, Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.” Learn to hear the sound of the wind. Learn to smell nature that is familiar as well as unfamiliar to you.

There is an inherent existential union with nature, as humans and creation share the Creator and the Nurturer. If we slow down enough and throw ourselves to nature in regular intentionality, we will begin to discover union and enjoy communion with nature, which in turn will deepen our communion with God.

What nature gifts us with is the abundance of sacred symbols and images that are constantly changing. The symbols and images speak intelligibly to our soul, while logical and rational reasons tend to dry out our soul. As co-creations of God, we discover in nature deep relatability and parallels in which our soul finds haven, often inexplicably. The fact that it cannot be explained does not mean it is not true or real. Awe, wonder, befuddlement, and wildness are all the languages of nature which profoundly touch something deep and cause resonance in our soul.

Practices

• Discover a hiking trail or two that are usually not crowded or a walking path around your neighborhood that is surrounded by nature

• Pick a sitting spot where you get to watch changes in nature both large and small over time

• Gaze into the sky and feed your eyes multiple times throughout the day

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | BE A SAFE SPACE

We experience transformation in a safe space. We are transformed by God who is ultimately safe and loving. The best gift we can provide to others is to create, defend, and protect safe space. There is no official or formal environment necessary for this to happen. We can become safe people whenever and wherever we are.

Hostility is the name of the game because we perceive that we are in constant competition with others. It is an endless game of feeding our ego and displacing our soul to far corners. No wonder our soul becomes protective and untrusting.

Building a safe space takes time and even requires multiple failures. Lessons learned from failures become valuable stepping stones in building safe spaces and restoring broken trusts.

Practices

• Listen. Listen not only to the words but to the emotions behind the words, to facial expressions, body postures, and/or energy levels. Do not offer solutions, advice, or corrections. Don’t think about what to say when listening. Learn to simply say, “thank you for sharing” or “bless you.” If and/or when praying, do not offer solutions or give advice through prayer.

• Keep confidentiality. Assume confidentiality. Keeping your mouths closed builds trust and safety over time.

• It is worth repeating this practice: Ask open questions lovingly. You can assume that he or she will discover his or her own answers over time. Thus, when asking, you are giving them space and permission to discover their own answers. Answers they discover will be more valuable and transforming than the answers they would have received from elsewhere.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | LEARN TO BE HOSPITABLE

Imagine a scenario where you are invited into a place or “space” someone created for you. In one such setting, there is an unostentatious and even humble ambiance with a modest and thoughtful serving of food, and you find yourself being at home with a relaxed and comfortable heart. In another setting, there is extravagance and plentiful provision, but your heart is not at rest. The difference is not whether one is modest and the other extravagant. The difference lies with the heart of the host. Of course, you can find a setting where there is extravagance and warmth, and openness of the host. The opposite is also true in that there is modesty but closedness and detachment from the host.

Hospitality is foremost the way of the heart. How we are and how we prepare ourselves to be open, inviting, and giver of freedom to others is everything. After that comes the actual offering of hospitality, which requires work of service and dedication. The truth of the matter is that we can be hospitable wherever we are. It becomes a way of life-based on our magnanimous hearts. Our “home” then is our heart. Our heart home becomes the real “home” out of which we provide hospitality to whoever we come in contact with.

Practices

• Invite someone(s) to your home. The Golden Rule of Jesus says that “so whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them” (Matthew 7:12). Apply this rule practically when providing hospitality. How would you like to be treated and served when you are a guest? Hospitality becomes an art of giving freedom and space for others to discover who they are.

• Receive gifts and service from others with a grateful heart. While it is true that we are more blessed when giving than receiving, appropriate receiving restores dignity upon the one who is doing the act of giving. When receiving, we are humbly placing ourselves under the one who is giving.

• Grow your magnanimous heart by giving “difficult” people around you the benefit of the doubt. Say a quick prayer of blessing over them when tempted toward judgement.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | KNOW AND OWN YOUR SET OF GLASSES

As cultural and subjective beings, we operate life with our own unique filtering system that turns reality into a reality. No one sees reality as the reality. We all have our own grid for interpretation of life and make decisions based on the interpretations. Jesus does not sugar coat this tendency and gives some stern warnings in Matthew 7:1-12. In His typical exaggerated fashion, Jesus talks of “the speck” of our neighbor’s eye and “the log” in our eye.

Then there is the strange insertion of Jesus, seemingly completely unrelated, “Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you.” (Matthew 7:6) What is at stake here is not how unworthy dogs and pigs are, but that of helpfulness. Even our best intentions of giving dogs what we consider to be holy and throwing our precious helps (jewels) before pigs are ways of judging what we think others may need from us.

Instead, we are told to “ask, seek, and knock” in the following verses (7-11). Instead of judging and making our own conclusion of things, simply ask, seek, and knock. The act of asking, seeking, and knocking is an act of non-judgement. We are opening ourselves up to listen and listen deeply.

Practices

• Pray daily the breath prayer, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

• Be aware of your blind spots, assumptions, prejudices, and preferences, particularly how they tend to take charge of your everyday life and decisions.

• Think twice before you say what you want to say and consider whether you have thought about how your words may impact others. “Do or say unto others what you would have them do or say to you” is what is at stake here. Once words come out of our mouth, it is already spilt milk.

• Learn to ask open questions. Be genuine when asking and listen lovingly and deeply.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | PURSUE WHAT MAKES YOU FULLY ALIVE

The pronoun, you, is key here. It is about you coming fully alive, not someone else. Thus, you would need to be brutally honest with yourself. Also, you cannot allow the voices of what others may think of you to cloud over your pursuit of what makes you fully alive. You do not need permission from others to pursue your dream.

Pursuing your passion is not without risks. There are risks of arriving at dead ends, experiencing little or no financial compensation, facing the possibility of being underappreciated or misunderstood, and facing doubts. The process of taking risks is worth the journey, for the journey teaches something sacred and human about you. I encourage you by echoing the Bible’s most repeated command, “Do not be afraid,” and send you on your way.

You must trust the process enough that pursuing fully aliveness will eventually benefit others and ultimately God. This means the pursuit is not inherently self-centered and narcissistic but over time the fruit of your pursuit becomes a gift to humanity.

Practices

• Pay attention to what makes your heart full and alive especially in unguarded moments and unexpected places, make note of it, and see if there is an emerging pattern to what makes your heart beat faster and most alive.

• Similarly, ask yourself: What am I passionate about? Make a list and see if there is a discernible pattern. Talk to a close friend who can give you feedback. Also notice when you are most energetic when engaging with your friend.

• Ask yourself: What moves me to shed tears of beauty? Tears of beauty include such things as being in amazing natural wonders, witnessing kindness and sacrificial valor of humanity at work, rapturous music or sports performance, observing a piece of art, etc. Then ask yourself: Why was I moved to tears? Frederick Buechner’s wise counsel is appropriate.

  “Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention.

  They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go to next.”

• Ask yourself: What brings me sparks of joy? Sparks of joy are an experience of elation, satisfaction, and “being at home.” Joy is an emotion when you know someone is simply glad to be with you. Joy is experienced when deep soul level connection happens with God, others, yourself, as well as nature.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | GROOMING CURIOSITY

“Groom one’s curiosity like a high-spirited thoroughbred.” Diane Ackerman

Curiosity is like unopened seeds of our soul that have yet to see the daylight. Being human means acknowledging this vast potential and service. Curiosities have led to historic original breakthroughs in science, technology, arts, sports, etc. Curiosities also opened doors for many to pursue one’s originality. Initially, discovering our originality through curiosity is often accidental, providential, and is a product of afterthought. Paying attention to what-ifs and heart tugs is crucial in taking the first steps toward unlocking our path toward originality. Granted, not all curiosities lead to something productive or helpful. It is ok. At least now we know. It is also paying attention to our heart when pursuing our curiosities. How is our heart responding, resonating, and experiencing in pursuing curiosities?

I would say one requirement of discerning whether to pursue a certain curiosity is to ask oneself whether this is self-serving to a point that it would harm others. If it is at least neutral, then I would give it a green light. You groom it like a high-spirited thoroughbred, ready to break out into the racetrack, to the wide-open fields, and to the world. Take your curiosities seriously enough to at least pursue them. Do not try to rationalize your curiosities. Grooming means investing intentional time and effort.

Once a seed of curiosity turns into a budding flower of passion that beckons your further attention and your name, then you must pursue the passion.

Practices

• List a few potential curiosities you want to pursue in the next several months. Pursue them thoroughly and watch how your heart responds.

• Do something you have not done before. Go somewhere you have not gone before. Strike random casual conversations with friendly strangers. Meet people from other cultures. Discerning your curiosities can be risky and vulnerable, but the process is worth the risk.

• Discovering your curiosities is like a treasure hunt. Usually, the movement goes from general to more specific areas of curiosities. Do not be afraid to chase “a few rabbits” along the way. As is the case, it can also be accidental. Learn to listen to your inner intuitions.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | EXERCISE SELF-COMPASSION

Practicing self-compassion translates into rejecting self-condemnation. It is an exercise of faith of receiving God’s unending mercy in our life. If we reject this truth and do not embrace this, then what we are in fact saying is that we are too good to accept our failures and brokenness when God says exactly the opposite. When we admit both our failures and accept God’s mercy, we can then extend grace and compassion toward ourselves. If we are honest, we are often the biggest critic of ourselves. We can be extremely harsh and even violent to ourselves. The practice of self-compassion keeps us healthy and whole, not because we don’t fail, but precisely because of it. Shame and guilt don’t weigh us down to the point of destruction and death.

Parker Palmer says it well. “Wholeness is the goal, but wholeness does not mean perfection. It means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life.” Being human and being perfect do not go together, at least in this life. We are called to be whole through multiple doors of brokenness. The practice of self-compassion is then saying a big yes to God’s unending mercy over and over again. When God says, “I love you,” we say, “thank you. I love you too.” Furthermore, as we practice self-compassion, we then create capacity to extend generous compassion toward others. We become conduits of compassion and active assets of God’s grace at work.

Practices

• Embrace God’s tender loving care by writing a letter to yourself with acceptance and compassion amid guilt and shame. It doesn’t have to be long. Write another letter to yourself as if God is writing you a letter of forgiveness and love.

• In specific moments of needing self-compassion, ask yourself, “What do I need to hear right now to express kindness to myself?” After discerning what you need to hear from yourself, say it out loud to yourself.

• We all have good friends. Think of a scenario where your good friend has come to you, broken and needing sympathy and compassion. Ask yourself: How would I treat my good friend? Learn to treat yourself like you would a good friend and notice any changes.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | SLOW DOWN/SABBATH

When we slow down or pause, we see and hear things we have not seen or heard before. We miss so much when we zip through life, as has been the case with me for many years. I was drawn to speed and perhaps even addicted to it. The urgency of the task drove me hard and I drove others hard. It is an illusion of thinking that God could not wait and that I had to sacrifice myself to meet God’s needs and demands.

Out of desperation, I learned to take Sabbath seriously. I had been running on fumes for a long time and realized that the pace of my life could not last. I could not last. Ultimately, my lack of slowing down came down to my understanding of who God is or is not.

Now, I cannot ever go back to the life of urgency or speed. I see and hear God more clearly in this slow-down mode. Intimacy of God is displayed in the seemingly small, mundane, and everyday life context. The great irony is that the crazy incomprehensible bigness of God is encapsulated in small everyday wonders of life. God is so big that God comes to us so small, it seems.

I am convinced that being human means to take Sabbath seriously. To be fully human is to observe Sabbath. It is simply part of God’s design for all humanity. Without it, we falter, burn out, and break down. In the end, it is about discovering God, ourselves, and why God created us.

Practices

• Block out 2 hours of solitude per week (and eventually extend it to 4 hours) doing no work/ministry and investing in your soul care. Discover what works for you in terms of “pray and play.”

• Focus on a small living thing (animal, insect, a plant, a flower, a leaf of a tree, a blade of grass, etc) and spend 3 to 5 minutes in observation. Notice what you see.

• Go on a personal retreat for a day or an overnight to nourish your soul and body. Sleep, relax, eat delicious food, read, journal, walk, watch a good movie, dip your feet in the water, walk on the sand, go to an art museum, etc. while staying away from work/ministry. You get the idea.

• Recite Psalm 46:10 this way.  Say the full verse, “Be still, and know that I am God.”  Then pause a few seconds. Then say, “Be still, and know that I am.” Pause. Say, “Be still, and know.” Pause. Say, “Be still.” Pause. Say, “Be.” End with another pause.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | LEARN TO BE PRESENT IN THE PRESENT MOMENT

To learn to be present, we must pay greater attention to our body and emotions. Our body and emotions reflect and react more truthfully to the present, far better than our mind. Our mind, which is often the best hiding place for our ego, twists, justifies, and color commentates to preserve our ego.

It has taken a substantial amount of time for me to embrace negative emotions: being sad, mad, and afraid. As an Enneagram 7, my need is to avoid pain, especially negative emotions. I have been learning to give names to my negative feelings, which allows me to access the present as is. One other embodied practice that has helped me is to pay attention to the sounds of nature. My wife and I walk regularly near the neighborhood along the foothills of San Gabriel Mountains in Pasadena, California. During COVID (as there are far fewer cars), I would walk in the mornings toward the mountains in a steep uphill climb mode and hear my own footsteps, my huffing breathing, incessant chirping of birds, and occasional wind rustling through the trees. I have come to love this time as it makes me feel alive and in my own body. I experience being in union with my body and nature, which grounds me in the present moment.

Practices

• Find a place where you can be alone and practice 5 minutes of silence and extend it to 20 minutes daily overtime. While not judging your thoughts during silence, let your thoughts pass by without engaging in the thoughts. What is helpful is to focus on your breath. This is not a time for intercession. You are simply present in the present moment where God is. When you notice that you are wandering in your thoughts, say a word like Jesus, love, mercy, etc. that brings you back to the present.

• Name the emotions you are feeling at certain moments. Try not to think it but to say it aloud so you can hear it. Notice any changes over time.

• Take a hike in nature away from the hustle and bustle of activities. Be aware of your body, senses, and the nature around you. Notice what you are becoming aware of.

PROMPTS & PRACTICES | “KNOW” GOD

In the next several weeks, I will be featuring what I wrote under Postscript: Prompts and Practices for my upcoming book. For each chapter, I highlight three prompts and corresponding practices.

God is drawing all creation to say yes (or multiple yes-es) to God’s infinite and non-possessive love. God cannot be or do anything other than love, for God is love. God cannot deny God. This love of God, which is “the ground of being” according to Paul Tillich, rules the heavens and the earth beyond any human understanding. Love is present and available at all times, as God is. We are to join God in making God’s love more accessible and understandable to all creation.

Jesus laid out the Great Commandment, summarizing the Old Testament. The call to love God, love oneself, and love our neighbors serves both as a map and compass for navigating life. These three loves, which are really one same love, instruct how to live well as God’s children in specificity and practicality. Love also is both the intention and action. Love must have both elements; otherwise, it falls short of the love that God intends.

Moving from a conceptual and theoretical framework to a practical and concrete one, I would like to further reflect as well as share a few practices I have embraced over the years that have helped me. I am not blindly assuming that these will also help you. You are most welcome to tweak and change these practices to discover what works for you. That is what is important here. I have generally, and thus not perfectly, divided the prompts and practices under the four categories corresponding to the chapters of the book: Loving God, Loving Oneself, Loving Our Neighbors, and Communion.

“Know” God

Knowing God perfectly is impossible. Knowing God personally is the invitation here. This personal and subjective knowing of God is a limited and imperfect knowing which breeds humility and compassion. But God seems perfectly okay with our imperfect knowing. God expects that, it seems. This grants us the kind of freedom and latitude to explore our subjective and experiential knowledge of God in our life.

We also are a by-product of our time and culture. We are cultural beings trapped in time and space. The Bible is also a product of time and culture. Knowing God through the Scriptures thus is both the careful work of understanding both the culture and context of the Bible as well as ours. Allowing the conversations to flow out of that process to guide and light our paths of life is the necessary work for us all. Ultimately, we get to know God by knowing Jesus and Jesus’ God. Jesus holds the hermeneutical key to our journey of knowing God.

We also get to know God by “knowing” the magnificent nature of God’s creation, as well as ourselves as God’s magnificent creation.

Practices

• Read, study, and reflect on the Scriptures including a portion of the gospels every day. Be also a student of the Bible’s cultures as well as ours. Don’t be afraid to go beyond your own tradition and read widely and discern.

• Write down and reflect on your personal life history regarding how God has been active in guiding and leading your life. What are your own “stones of remembrance?” Do you recognize any discernible patterns of how God has come to you over and over again?

• How have you experienced God’s unconditional forgiveness and grace in your life? Reflect and write a journal entry.

• Create your own growing list of gratitude toward God. Be specific and write down as many as you can remember going as far back as you can go. Then give each gratitude a name. These are your very own treasure chest of God’s goodness. Also, notice the emotions you feel by thinking through the list.

LOVING OTHERS & COMMUNION: INTEGRATION OF THE THREE LOVES

This week, I would highlight two more chapter introductions: Loving others & Communion.

Introduction to Loving Others

When it comes to loving my neighbors, my life is like a roller coaster ride going up and down, jerking side to side, and sometimes making a giant loop or two. It is a wild and unpredictable mixture of loving wrongly to loving rightly and loving conditionally to loving unconditionally or vice versa. I know I have not arrived.

The biblical faith can only exist as translated into a culture. One of the foundational problems in life and missions is that we try to make others love God like we do, believe as we do, behave as we do.

Thus, one of the hardest teachings of Jesus is to love our neighbors, much less love our enemies. Our “neighbors” are as expansive as the entire humanity and as intimate as our family, and everyone in between. In the Book of Leviticus (19:33-34), our neighbors are “foreigners,” meaning people who are completely different from us. Jesus reemphasized this point by including the Samaritans, who were detested by the Jews as neighbors. As I said, it is a hard teaching to follow.

We are to love as Jesus loved. Loving others foremost means giving them freedom to be who they are created to be without forcing them to be like us. Loving others also means we empower them to love their God with their own heart, soul, mind, and strength. As we do this, we witness creations and strengthening of communities that are safe, authentic, and loving, exuding the love of Christ beyond to draw more people into communities. Thomas Merton succinctly captured, “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.”

Loving others and loving ourselves are intricately interdependent. “The man who respects his own originality has a respectful eye for the originality of others,”[1] Adrian Van Kaam wrote. This “respectful eye” is contrasted by the “condemning eye” we are to guard against (Matthew 7:1-5). As we accept and celebrate our own uniqueness and worth, we extend the same grace to others. Both my worth and others’ worth are ultimately God-given, so there is no room for boasting or feeling inferior, stemming from an endless game of comparison and competition.

In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis penned wise words, “The rule for us all is perfectly simple. Do not waste time bothering whether you ‘love’ your neighbor; act as if you did. As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him.”

When we love our neighbor as ourselves, we are an answer to our own prayer, “Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

[1] This quote is from Van Kaam’s book, Living Creatively: How to Discover Your Sources of Originality and Self-Motivation, page 13.

Communion: Integration of the Three Loves

There is no greater vision, calling, and destination than to be in union with God as followers of Jesus. In the garden of Gethsemane (John 17), Jesus prayed the ultimate vision of humanity’s end goal: to be one with God. When we pursue being united with God, we become living answers to Jesus’ prayer.

Union with God can be summarized in one word, love. As God is love, as we become one with God, we become love. We were all created by Love toward Love. Love is both the essence of our existence and the vision of our calling. This love is outlined by Jesus as loving God, loving ourselves, and loving our neighbors. To become love is to love everything God loves and in the way God loves.

In order to pursue and become love, we must seek comm-union with God, ourselves, and with others.

For much of my adult life, I was taught to die, sacrifice, and surrender myself for the sake of God and others. It took a significant revelation to realize that I was part of the world God loves. Somehow, I detached myself from the world God loves and acted as if I stood outside of the world. I realized over time I acted as if I did not need God’s love after my “salvation”. I also realized that was a rejection of God’s indwelling and continual love. I was too good and worthy to need God’s love. How arrogant and blasphemous I was!

To be in comm-union with myself is the most misunderstood and thus difficult challenge, especially for evangelicals. To be in union with myself is to be in union with Christ who is in me. Thus, Christ in me and I are not separated. Christ in me recognizes Christ in others and vice versa and thus create union with others. Communion with all three loves cannot be separated, and they grow in unison, which fulfills the prayer of Jesus.

LOVING GOD AND LOVING ONESELF

Last week, I shared the introduction to the upcoming book. This week, I would like to share two chapter introductions (loving God and loving oneself) of my book. Next week, I will feature two more. I wrote these in June when I was in Korea. Happy reading!

Introduction to Loving God

For decades, I have wrestled with God, who seemed to me to be incongruent at best and bipolar at worst. God portrayed in the Old Testament and the New Testament appeared to be radically different. God in the Old Testament seemed to be largely punitive, retributive, short-tempered, and decisive in handing judgments based on God’s just and righteous character. God in the New Testament, on the contrary, seemed to be much more restorative, loving, compassionate, and patient.

Through my struggles over time, I have realized that Jesus Christ holds the key in interpreting the Old Testament as well as the New Testament. God portrayed through the teachings, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus is the God of the Bible. Through Jesus Christ, we are invited to enter the union with the God of Jesus, which is to love God.

How we answer what God is like dictates our life’s trajectory and impacts our habitual decisions, both big and small.

To be sure, knowing and loving God is a lifelong journey. The two are intricately dependent on each other. There is a big difference between knowing God and knowing about God. Knowing and loving God is an intimate, subjective, and personal act. Jesus taught us to love God with all our heart, mind, strength, and soul. We must love God with our whole being, not with our disjointed and compartmentalized selves. We also must love God with our own individual hearts, mind, strength, and souls. We cannot love God with someone else’s heart, mind, strength, and soul.  

Consider this chapter as an invitation to reimagine, rethink, and re-posture your understanding of what God is like and an invitation ultimately to love God. We are to do this as imperfect beings. God is okay with that and fully expects that. Thus, a pilgrim’s ultimate sanctification journey is to move from conditional and imperfect love to unconditional and perfect love.

Introduction to Loving Oneself

For most of my life, I have lived my life based on others’ expectations and thoughts of me. What others think of me and expect from me have been my guiding light, especially for me as a Korean American, with an emphasis on Korean. Earlier in life, I am my parents’ son. Later, I am my wife’s husband, my children’s father, my church’s member and missionary, my organization’s member and leader, and so forth and so on. What others think and expect of me have dictated my life.

While this is still a work in progress, it has taken a herculean effort of courage, honesty, and self-awareness to swim against the powerful current of external thought of me to discover and accept who I am. I am not what others think of me. I cannot live my life based on others’ thoughts and expectations of me. The need to swim against the current is just as true for the followers of Jesus as it is for the entire swath of society. Especially in societies where uniformity and distorted view of harmony reign and are valued, one is discouraged to stand out and discover oneself.

Why did Jesus say, “love your neighbor as yourself?” Why didn’t he simply say, “love your neighbor?” This question has lingered with me for years, especially since the Church emphasized “love your neighbor” while ignoring “as yourself.” What did Jesus mean? The main clue is found in Genesis 1 where it is recorded that all humanity is created in the image and likeness of the triune God. And God said it was very good. At the risk of being simplistic, Jesus’ command could also be viewed as—treat others in the same way you view yourself—as God’s creation. Furthermore, the command was to recognize and affirm God’s created image and likeness in myself as well as others!

When you scan the heroes and heroines of all traditions, after incredible feats of adventures, they all invariably “come home.” That homecoming can be interpreted as “coming Home” and “coming home to oneself.” A pilgrim’s journey starts with whose one is as well as who one is. There is no other better start!

A RESTLESS SOUL

I am currently working on a book in Korean. No. I am not writing in Korean. It is being translated from English. The process of publishing a book in Korea was accidental and providential. In some ways, it is almost like “coming home.” I am excited for the opportunity mainly out of hope and desire in being helpful to Koreans who are “asking, seeking, and knocking.” The book is basically a compilation of my previous blog entries arranged and edited in four different chapters: Loving God, Loving Oneself, Loving our Neighbors, and Communion.

I would like to share my preface to the book this week. This is an unedited version and may change in due process. Thank you for reading.

I am a restless soul.

A few years ago, as a middle-aged man adorned with a shaved head and a goatee, I visited my old elementary school, Chu Gye Elementary School in Bukahhyundong in Seoul, Korea. I attended the school from 1969 to 1974, age 6-11. I was giddy with excitement to revisit my old stomping ground where I thought I “ruled the world.” After wandering around the ground and soaking in the flood of memories of my innocent and happy days, I gingerly walked into the school record room and wanted to engage with someone who was willing to hear my meandering of memories. I quickly found my unfortunate victim, and she kindly went along with my story. Almost as an escape, she asked me whether I would be willing to say hello to the principal of the school. I nodded my head somewhat hesitantly not knowing what I got myself into. The principal walked out of his office just as puzzled. As soon as I saw his face, I remembered him! He was one of my teachers while I was a student. He was young then, and I was really young. As he also recognized me which surprised me, we exchanged pleasantries, and he asked me whether I wanted to see my old school record. “Of course,” I said. What caught my eye was not my grade point average (which was equivalent to C- at best if not D+). The comment section was filled with my teachers’ evaluations of me for 6 years. One thing that was consistent was the repeated comment about my being “scattered” and my lack of ability to focus and pay attention. I didn’t know it then, but I probably had ADHD. I busted out laughing both at my GPA and the comments. The president and the lady also busted out laughing. It was a good day. 

Being scatter-brained is a trait that has not left me. As an Enneagram type 7, I know I have a “monkey mind,” jumping from one thought to another in quick succession. Over time, this scatter-mindedness has led me to discover that I am a restless soul on a deeper level. I am a restless soul seeking understanding and answers to the meaning of life.

A few of my life’s fundamental restless pursuits include seeking answers to: What is God like? Who am I? What is humanity? And how are these things related, if at all?

True to my scattered brain and my restless soul, this book is primarily a collection of short essays of reflection based on the questions above—my story—the life that is certainly more graced than graceful. I am a Korean American, so I perceive and interpret reality and life based on my unique cultural makeup as well as from my imperfect theological lens. This book also contains my musings, not a dishing out of pat answers or platitudes, but more raising of questions. This book is not systematically structured for me to answer the questions I have raised. It is about my own hints, guesses, and intuitions about my own spiritual journey, which is my natural human journey, and my natural human journey, which is also my spiritual journey. I move and experience life this way, and my writing reflects the tendency. It is a collection of sketches, meditations, and the “reading” of my human and spiritual life. I am fully aware that for some people, this book may be too ethereal, too free-flowing, and provides no firm landing points (i.e. applications), which may lead them to shy away from the book. This book, as a collection of short essays, may best be read with open, transparent, and seeking hearts, not with analyzing minds searching for practical answers. When it seems that I am writing to offer answers, please know that they are merely suggestive based on my own journey. In short, I write descriptively, not prescriptively. 

I am a pilgrim on a journey, unrepeatably unique to who I am and how God created me but also on a pilgrimage along with countless other pilgrims, too many to count. As a pilgrim, I got lost numerous times, fell flat on my face, knew deep hunger, faced dangers and hurts, witnessed mountain top panoramic breathtaking views, walked along the dark path, found joy in small wonders, and met other pilgrims along the journey. Thus I write as a pilgrim to and for fellow pilgrims. As such, we may naturally converge and dialogue on some reflections and musings and digress on some others. 

As pilgrims, I imagine that we are not unlike the two disciples walking on the Emmaus Road, talking, discussing, and trying to make sense out of what has happened and is happening with The Reality. Then Jesus suddenly appears and joins us in the journey, though we don’t notice Jesus right away, asking questions and talking with us! I hope what happened to the disciples also happen to us: “Suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they recognized him (Jesus).” (Luke 24: 31) “And they said to each other, ‘Didn’t our hearts burn within us as he talked with us on the road and explained the Scriptures to us?’” (v. 32) Notice the word suddenly. Our habitual tendencies toward planning and prescription are often met with holy spontaneity and shock of Jesus, urging us to relinquish what we used to hold onto before. Eyes opening, recognizing Jesus, and hearts burning during our life’s journey are all common experiences of pilgrims!

Chong Kim

Having led a fairly comfortable and sheltered life in Seoul, Korea, until my father’s business spectacularly failed, my parents decided to immigrate to the U.S. in 1977. I was 14 years old at the time. 

I found Christ during my first year at college. To be more precise, Christ found me.

Freedom is at the core of who I am and what I long to see becomes a reality on earth for all to be who God created them to be without someone (or something) forcing them to be who they are not. 

After serving over 30 years as a missional thinker and activist at Frontier Ventures, previously known as the U.S. Center for World Mission, I am finding myself longing to slow down, create space to live out my contemplative nature, and deepen my pursuit towards true self and freedom. I am seeking a new kind of activism driven by my great desire to create safe space to live authentically.

I approach this book as a platform to share my interior faith journey—riddled with dark valleys and high peaks and uneasy questions and answers and ultimately the ongoing process of shedding my false self and discovering my true self. I hope my journey will resonate with pockets of people who are seeking to live this life as God’s Kingdom citizens—as beloved sons and daughters.

I can easily be spotted at a good coffee shop with a good book (too many good coffees in the world to try them all! Sigh...). I love to watch Phil Rosenthal’s Somebody Feed Phil and the Korean Begin Again series and bleed purple and gold (go Lakers!). I am happily married to my wife, Grace, who is a spiritual director, and we have 4 wonderful adult children. Our family values that we have shaped over time are freedom, fun, and safe space.

HEART TRANSFORMATION

In broad strokes, religions are largely built around what they perceive to be clean over unclean, pure over impure, or if you like, proper over improper. The idea of what is clean and what is unclean dominates much of religious dogmas, teachings, and practices down through history. This construct further promotes and delineates the clean or the “converted” ones from the “pagan” ones. The neatly drawn box serves as a well-defined religion and separates one religion from the other, often deeming one’s own religion more superior to other religions. Judaism in the Bible was no exception. There are painfully detailed instructions outlined in the Book of Leviticus regarding what is clean and thus acceptable versus what is unclean and thus unacceptable when various offerings and sacrifices are considered. In the New Testament, Jesus spent much of his time upending what the Jews thought and believed were clean or pure. How people relate to God and to one another in communities is largely constructed on the bounded beliefs and practices of what is clean, pure, or proper. Both Jesus and Paul turned upside down the accepted prevalent table fellowship practices, which were the outflow of what is clean and acceptable, and emphasized the importance of “interior” or heart cleanliness over external cleanliness. No wonder both Jesus and Paul were considered radical and even blasphemous. 

However, it seems that the Church has not learned from Jesus or Paul and is still obsessed with prescribed acts of propriety emphasizing external or behavioral modifications and adherence. The Church continues to divide and draw lines between what it perceives to be clean or proper versus what it perceives to be unclean or improper. This leads to blind promotion of external conformity that is substantially removed from internal transformation. Clearly, it is easier to measure and “police” external behaviors over internal heart transformation.

One such “division” pertains to how the Church considers the world generally unclean and, in some camp, outright evil. In such belief, we are to avoid and thus “flee” from the world. We must hate the world and not love the world. It is not that such view is entirely wrong. To be sure, the Bible talks about two worlds. One is the world that Jesus died on the cross for, which desperately needs to be redeemed. The other is the world of “systems” that are devised and manipulated by the devil. The latter world is the world of carefully constructed systemic bondage that imprisons and undermines the entire creation, including human beings. In this sense, the world is associated as a system of sin. The former world is the world that God loves and is groaning in pain that Paul talks about in the Book of Romans. 

I too have a list of what I perceive to be clean and proper. I operate out of my own set of propriety and judge others according to my set. I may not judge others outwardly, but I realize I do have a certain checklist. Over time, I have less appreciated wordy and protracted public prayers including prayers for the meals. I certainly am not saying I am right but it has become a clear preference of mine. I also have very little patience toward people especially leaders who I perceive to be poor listeners. If a leader does not pass my propriety test of being a good listener, he will get judged by me. But I realize there is a possibility of the fact that he or she can be preoccupied with something on the day of interaction.

One of the first things I was told when I went to Indonesia, decades ago, was not to use my left hand when eating or handing something over to others. When entering the historic Blue Mosque in Istanbul, Turkey as a tourist, I was told to wash my face, arm, hands, and feet. When entering a Hindu temple in Bali, I was told to wear a skirt around my waist as I was wearing shorts. When entering a church years ago as a young believer, I was told not to wear a hat or to chew a piece of gum during service. When I was given an opportunity to preach at a Korean church, I was asked to take off my shoes up on the podium platform. I mean the list is long wherever we go. 

When missionaries or devout people go to another culture, they invariably take their own set of cleanness and propriety. One of the significant cross-cultural communication tests revolves around the inevitable clash of these sets of proprieties between the locals and the missionaries. Thus a natural question to consider is: whose set of propriety should prevail? The ultimate answer is not based on who wins the day but on interior cleanliness and the transformation of all parties involved. However, in order to get there, those who are visiting from the outside would do well to adhere to the prescribed rules of propriety of the local culture. Furthermore, if we are to witness the change from within, we ought to acknowledge and own our set of propriety and recognize its shortcomings. Only then are we ready and qualified to critique others’ sets. Where honest and loving conversations flow in critiquing the sets of external proprieties of both cultures, there is hope for internal transformation. When this happens, the internal transformation leads to the external transformation of behaviors and proprieties and sets “the captives free.” 

The list is long if we are to capture who is considered unclean or impure. The talk of what is clean or unclean divides, and the divisiveness is more harmful than any one of us recognizes. Perhaps a good starting point is to espouse that God effortlessly embraces all the uncleans and deems them clean if we come to God broken and honest. Which leads to the important work of cleaning what is inside and witnessing internal transformation as well as external transformation. . .

GOD, THE CHURCH, AND THE PANDEMIC | PART 2

God is concerned with the renewal of all Creation and with setting the whole Creation free. Thus, the purview of our partnership with God seems to be much bigger and wider in scope than we are accustomed to and perhaps even comfortable with. The overall theme of the Lord’s Prayer Jesus taught us to pray is consistent with the above. Here, I lean on N. Tom Wright again from his book, The Lord and His Prayer. It is a long quote but a good one! I have not read anything better.

What then might it mean to pray this Kingdom—prayer today?

It means, for a start, that as we look up into the face of our Father in Heaven, and commit ourselves to the hallowing of his name, that we look immediately out upon the whole world that he made, and we see it as he sees it. Thy Kingdom Come: to pray this means seeing the world in binocular vision. See it with the love of the creator for his spectacularly beautiful creation; and see it with the deep grief of the creator for the battered and battle-scarred state in which the world now finds itself. Put those two together, and bring the binocular picture into focus: the love and the grief join into the Jesus-shape, the kingdom-shape, the shape of the cross — never was Love, dear King, never was Grief like thine! And, with this Jesus before your eyes, pray again, Thy Kingdom Come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven! We are praying, as Jesus was praying and acting, for the redemption of the world; for the radical defeat and uprooting of evil; and for heaven and earth to be married at last, for God to be all in all. And if we pray this way, we must of course be prepared to live this way.

So, as we pray this for this world, we also pray it, of course, for the church. But this cannot simply mean that we want God to sort out our messes and muddles, so that the church can be a cosy place, without problems or pain. We can only pray this prayer for the church if we are prepared to mean: make us Kingdom-bearers! Make us a community of healed healers; make us a returned orchestra to play the Kingdom-music until the world takes up the song. Make us, in turn, Servants of the Lord, the few with the message for the many.

The world, the church — but what of ourselves?

I used to think of this clause simply as a prayer of resignation. ‘Thy will be done’, with a shrug of the shoulders: what I want doesn’t matter too much; if God really wants to do something I suppose I can put up with it. That might do if God were a remote, detached, God. It won’t do for Isaish’s God; it won’t do for Jesus; and it won’t do for those who break bread and drink wine to remember Jesus and pray for the kingdom. No: this is the risky, crazy prayer of submission and commission, or, if you like, the prayer of subversion and conversion. It is the way we sign on, in our turn, for the work of the kingdom. It is the way we take the medicine ourselves, so that we may be strong enough to administer it to others. It is the way we retune our instruments, to play God’s oratorio for the world to sing.

I could never pray the Lord’s Prayer in the same way. Going from Wright to Rodney Stark, Stark, as a distinguished sociologist of religion, has researched and detailed how early Christianity gained its humble “power” and prominence against all odds. To borrow Wright’s phrase, it is as a result of the prayers of “submission and commission as well as subversion and conversion”.

Stark has a fascinating chapter called Urban Chaos and Crisis in his book, The Rise of Christianity, in which he specifically delves into the city of Antioch. He shatters the idea of affluent and even luxurious Roman urban life and effectively claims that it is nothing but a projected illusion. According to his research, he found that the density of the city would have been 195 persons per acre compared to 100 inhabitants per acre in Manhattan, NY (and this is with high rise buildings in the city)! Stark argues convincingly the problems of sanitation and water supply which then becomes a pesthole of infectious disease and plague. He says, “given limited water and means of sanitation, and the incredible density of humans and animals, most people in Greco-Roman cities must have lived in filth beyond our imagining. (1997:153) He goes on to claim that none (scholars) challenges that life expectancy at birth was less than 30 years. Stark concludes the chapter:

Since Antioch suffered acutely from all of these urban problems, it was in acute need of solutions. No wonder the early Christian missionaries were so warmly received in this city. For what they brought was not simply an urban movement, but a new culture capable of making life in Greco-Roman cities more tolerable. (1997:162)

The early church grew and expanded through willing helping hands and feet to a desperate world that required immediate redemptive action and service. The vibrant and incarnational faith in action portrayed by these nameless saints cannot be overstated enough or forgotten. Over time, the early proletariat-based “bottom-up” Christianity successfully, one may say, created a new culture of both generosity and tolerance until patrician-led “top-down” Christianity began its building of encrustation of dormant and irrelevant culture. 

As I close, I wonder about these questions: When and where are Christian missionaries (or Christians) so warmly received by the suffering people today? When will we see viable forms of partnership with God focusing on redemption of the whole creation, which is ridden and weary amidst the current global pandemic? And other pandemics in the future? What will a “new” Kingdom culture befitting the 21st century look like in our time? How will or should we “retune our instruments, to play God’s oratorio for the world to sing?” Or just perhaps, are we being invited to play with a completely new set of instruments as opposed to simply retune the existing instruments?