This quarter in VLI we will be studying church history, and I can hardly wait.
It's kind of ironic, but two of my Jewish friends know more about Christianity (in the intellectual sense) than most of my Christian friends do, and perhaps more than I do. For example, 'J', a Jewish co-worker, listened to a conversation about the movie 'The Passion', and mentioned that he didn't remember reading any references to Veronica in the gospels and asked where it was. At least I knew that answer to that one (no place!). But that pales besides a conversation we had the other day when he mentioned the split between the Roman Catholic church and the Greek Orthodox church due to the 'filioque' clause. Seeing my look of puzzlement he kindly explained that the issue concerned a disagreement over whether the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and from the Son (filioque), or only from the Father.
'J' is so quiet that you don't immediately notice how smart he is. But as you can guess, he gently and respectfully skewers me if I show any sloppiness in my reasoning, when we are discussing religious topics.
Since this is the break between quarters for VLI, I've started reading Constantine's Sword again (which he had lent to me). I mentioned to 'J' that I was finding it difficult reading, because there are a lot of generalizations about what Christians think and believe, that I just don't agree with. According to the author, the very premise of Christianity is rooted in anti-semitism, and Christianity finds its identity in opposing Judaism.
He seemed dubious of my protestations to the contrary, so I ended up quoting the VLI mantra to him ("all meaning is context dependent"), and explaining that I am being taught to try to put on a 1st century Jewish mindset in order to properly interpret the New Testament. That caught his attention, I believe, because it is different from what he expects of Christianity.
The big sticking point for him is that he sees Christianity as violating monotheism. So he deems it fundamentally impossible for a Jew to become a Christian. I had to agree that even though I believe that Christianity is monotheistic, it is hard to explain how the Trinity fits into this.
Oh no, I'd better wrap up now...I feel a discourse about 'filioque' coming on...
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
concrete and weeds
I work in Long Island City.
It is gray.
When you look out the window, you could be seeing something in black and white film, except for the fleet of yellow taxicabs. I mentioned to a co-worker that it looks to me like a second-rate industrial city in an Eastern bloc country, and he thought for a moment and then agreed -- the only difference is that he has actually lived in those places, so he knows what he's talking about.
Anyway, on my way to work I was thinking about all the concrete, and noticing the vigor and persistence of the weeds growing by the sidewalk, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'm probably one of the few people in Long Island City who sees the pigweed and views it as a food object -- it's just the right age now, to lightly steam it, and serve it like spinach. And then I turned the corner and the weeds changed and I saw milkweed, and thought about cooking the milkweed pods.
And then I realized how far we've gotten from nature, because people assume I'm kidding if I mention that these weeds are edible. (It is true that the last time we ate the milkweed pods we got a bit stoned, but that's another story). And yesterday walking past the train station, I saw dark purple berries on the sidewalk and wondered if it was a mulberry tree.
It reminded me that God gives us good gifts all the time, but sometimes we don't notice. I bet someone could starve to death without realizing that edible plants were all around.
p.s. It's important to not eat pigweed that grows around fire hydrants, or other favorite dog places...
It is gray.
When you look out the window, you could be seeing something in black and white film, except for the fleet of yellow taxicabs. I mentioned to a co-worker that it looks to me like a second-rate industrial city in an Eastern bloc country, and he thought for a moment and then agreed -- the only difference is that he has actually lived in those places, so he knows what he's talking about.
Anyway, on my way to work I was thinking about all the concrete, and noticing the vigor and persistence of the weeds growing by the sidewalk, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'm probably one of the few people in Long Island City who sees the pigweed and views it as a food object -- it's just the right age now, to lightly steam it, and serve it like spinach. And then I turned the corner and the weeds changed and I saw milkweed, and thought about cooking the milkweed pods.
And then I realized how far we've gotten from nature, because people assume I'm kidding if I mention that these weeds are edible. (It is true that the last time we ate the milkweed pods we got a bit stoned, but that's another story). And yesterday walking past the train station, I saw dark purple berries on the sidewalk and wondered if it was a mulberry tree.
It reminded me that God gives us good gifts all the time, but sometimes we don't notice. I bet someone could starve to death without realizing that edible plants were all around.
p.s. It's important to not eat pigweed that grows around fire hydrants, or other favorite dog places...
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Sunday in the Nursing Home
Sunday I went to the nursing home, as usual. We go twice a month and lead a church service. This week was a little hard, because 'R' was out of town and so I was the only one there.
The aides were a little late wheeling people into the room, and at one point there was quite a commotion. 'L' was blocking the doorway like a stopper in a bottle, because she kept standing up, so the aide couldn't wheel her in.
She wanted to walk, but couldn't seem to quite remember how, so she would reach behind to steady herself on the arms of the chair, lean forward to walk, and then forget to move her feet. We were all afraid she would fall flat on the floor. The aide tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Other residents tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Then, feeling unsteady, she turned sideways to lean both hands on one arm of the chair. Now she was really stuck. She couldn't walk or sit, or go forwards or backwards.
The aide had left to bring other people in, and I was afraid 'L' was going to fall, so I went over to try to help. As soon as I got near, she roared again "NO". So I asked her "What do you want?" "I'm going to WALK!" she proclaimed. "If you want to walk, you need to face this way" So I oriented her facing forward, towards me, and suggested that she watch my feet, and take a step when she saw me take a step.
Suddenly, this determined old woman who was desperately trying to walk without moving her legs, took two big steps, aiming for my feet. Aiming Exactly for my feet. She ended up standing on top of my feet, like big toddler who is pretending to dance with her father. By this point, the bystanders were enjoying the show -- this was much more interesting than the sermon they had come to hear. We successfully took several steps (I even managed to reclaim my feet), and then she decided she had had enough, and sat down.
Then 'D' started calling for help. She is a sweet, tiny little lady, with huge insect-like eyes, who slides lower and lower in her wheelchair until she is afraid she will slide off. Her only prayer request is world peace. I don't know how to help her when she slides like this. I've seen the aide struggling with her before. It's like trying to nail jello. So when I saw another aide walk into the room, I called to him for help. He came over and gently lifted her back to her seat. Then he sweetly kissed her on the top of the head and asked if she was ok. I finally noticed that his nametag was marked 'building services' so he wasn't even a patient aide, but I watched in awe as he went up and down the row, greeting each one, giving a pat or a kiss or a word. Love in action. So real, so true, so heartfelt. Their faces lit up. He called them beautiful, and they were. He asked how they were feeling, and they felt better. He made them feel cherished and pretty. He was a big, strong, black janitor, and they were tiny, frail, old white ladies, and he made each of them feel like a princess.
I don't have a fraction of the love he showed. I asked if he could come back for the service; I asked if he could sing, anything just to keep him in the room. But he had to go. I really wanted to watch him in action. It's a special gift. I can show kindness and respect, with maybe a bit of love thrown in on a good day, but he has the capacity to make each person feel special.
The aides were a little late wheeling people into the room, and at one point there was quite a commotion. 'L' was blocking the doorway like a stopper in a bottle, because she kept standing up, so the aide couldn't wheel her in.
She wanted to walk, but couldn't seem to quite remember how, so she would reach behind to steady herself on the arms of the chair, lean forward to walk, and then forget to move her feet. We were all afraid she would fall flat on the floor. The aide tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Other residents tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Then, feeling unsteady, she turned sideways to lean both hands on one arm of the chair. Now she was really stuck. She couldn't walk or sit, or go forwards or backwards.
The aide had left to bring other people in, and I was afraid 'L' was going to fall, so I went over to try to help. As soon as I got near, she roared again "NO". So I asked her "What do you want?" "I'm going to WALK!" she proclaimed. "If you want to walk, you need to face this way" So I oriented her facing forward, towards me, and suggested that she watch my feet, and take a step when she saw me take a step.
Suddenly, this determined old woman who was desperately trying to walk without moving her legs, took two big steps, aiming for my feet. Aiming Exactly for my feet. She ended up standing on top of my feet, like big toddler who is pretending to dance with her father. By this point, the bystanders were enjoying the show -- this was much more interesting than the sermon they had come to hear. We successfully took several steps (I even managed to reclaim my feet), and then she decided she had had enough, and sat down.
Then 'D' started calling for help. She is a sweet, tiny little lady, with huge insect-like eyes, who slides lower and lower in her wheelchair until she is afraid she will slide off. Her only prayer request is world peace. I don't know how to help her when she slides like this. I've seen the aide struggling with her before. It's like trying to nail jello. So when I saw another aide walk into the room, I called to him for help. He came over and gently lifted her back to her seat. Then he sweetly kissed her on the top of the head and asked if she was ok. I finally noticed that his nametag was marked 'building services' so he wasn't even a patient aide, but I watched in awe as he went up and down the row, greeting each one, giving a pat or a kiss or a word. Love in action. So real, so true, so heartfelt. Their faces lit up. He called them beautiful, and they were. He asked how they were feeling, and they felt better. He made them feel cherished and pretty. He was a big, strong, black janitor, and they were tiny, frail, old white ladies, and he made each of them feel like a princess.
I don't have a fraction of the love he showed. I asked if he could come back for the service; I asked if he could sing, anything just to keep him in the room. But he had to go. I really wanted to watch him in action. It's a special gift. I can show kindness and respect, with maybe a bit of love thrown in on a good day, but he has the capacity to make each person feel special.
Don't despise small beginnings
Remember my post from last month about praying for Barney?
I was hoping that praying for the dog would open the door to praying for the humans. Well, I was really excited today to get a phone call from 'S', who said that he and his wife were planning to travel by plane next week, and she asked if I would pray for their safety, since Barney was doing so well.
It reminded me of what we learned in VLI in the courses on Church growth and Evangelism -- that people respond best when you address their felt needs.
I was hoping that praying for the dog would open the door to praying for the humans. Well, I was really excited today to get a phone call from 'S', who said that he and his wife were planning to travel by plane next week, and she asked if I would pray for their safety, since Barney was doing so well.
It reminded me of what we learned in VLI in the courses on Church growth and Evangelism -- that people respond best when you address their felt needs.
Monday, May 24, 2004
Ship of Fools, and kindness
Have you seen the website called 'Ship of Fools'? It is an online church, in 3D. The description on the site says "Church of Fools is an attempt to create holy ground on the net, where people can worship, pray and talk about faith."
It's an interesting experiment in bringing church to the people. And as could be expected, it is already bringing out both the best and worst in people. So many people rushed in to yell and swear and otherwise disrupt the services that they had to turn off the 'shout' function -- which was originally conceived as a way for visitors to contribute an 'alleluia' or two.
It's more than just a novelty -- there are actual scheduled services. The Bishop of London delivered the sermon at the opening service. He spoke about the danger and promise of the internet:
An article on the website summed up a child's response that was embarrassingly accurate:
Wouldn't it be great if we could all learn to walk into a regular church without the seeds of that same question in our hearts? Jesus prayed that we might be one, but all the inventions of civilization have not helped us to grow in unity (either inside or outside of the church).
Last week's sermon, by Steve Tompkins, used the story of the Tower of Babel, and applied it to the internet:
The other day members of my kinship complimented me on being kind to someone I find irritating. I was totally embarrassed -- clearly, they had gotten used to my usual impatient response with this individual, and were trying to give me positive feedback. It's odd how stressful it can be to simply act kind. At one point, I intentionally dropped something on the floor so I could literally hide under the table and have a little intermission.
Why is it so hard to be kind?
It's an interesting experiment in bringing church to the people. And as could be expected, it is already bringing out both the best and worst in people. So many people rushed in to yell and swear and otherwise disrupt the services that they had to turn off the 'shout' function -- which was originally conceived as a way for visitors to contribute an 'alleluia' or two.
It's more than just a novelty -- there are actual scheduled services. The Bishop of London delivered the sermon at the opening service. He spoke about the danger and promise of the internet:
So let us take the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of the sea to discover ourselves in the light of the Spirit. Let us use this gift which has been given to our generation to heal and not to hurt; to open spiritual ears and eyes and not to add to the noise of self-justification and the rhetoric of hate.
An article on the website summed up a child's response that was embarrassingly accurate:
Church of Fools is a cross between a computer game and an 11th-century Romanesque sanctuary. One visitor looked around with her five-year-old son on her lap. "Wow!" he said. "Who's on your team and which ones do you kill?" – a sentiment many traditional churchgoers will recognise.
Wouldn't it be great if we could all learn to walk into a regular church without the seeds of that same question in our hearts? Jesus prayed that we might be one, but all the inventions of civilization have not helped us to grow in unity (either inside or outside of the church).
Last week's sermon, by Steve Tompkins, used the story of the Tower of Babel, and applied it to the internet:
Our failure and refusal to understand others is deeper than words, bigger than Google, as old as Babel and as (de)pressingly up-to-date as al-Qaeda and George Bush.
This is an ailment no tech, however hi, can remedy. The only cure is something as hard to learn, in its own way, as ancient Babylonian: listening, seeing the other's side. The internet cannot unite people who will not hear each other, but it gives us an invaluable chance to listen.
The other day members of my kinship complimented me on being kind to someone I find irritating. I was totally embarrassed -- clearly, they had gotten used to my usual impatient response with this individual, and were trying to give me positive feedback. It's odd how stressful it can be to simply act kind. At one point, I intentionally dropped something on the floor so I could literally hide under the table and have a little intermission.
Why is it so hard to be kind?
Sunday, May 16, 2004
Come Holy Spirit
As one of my VLI leadership projects I'll be helping to lead the Alpha Holy Spirit weekend next Friday and Saturday.
In preparation, I've been praying and studying and teaching on the Holy Spirit. That's one of the advantages of being a leader -- you get to choose the topics! So this week, at both kinship and the nursing home, we studied the Holy Spirit.
The scary part is the ministry time. The reason it's scary is that our church is in a phase where the manifestation of the Spirit is pretty subtle, and many of the people in the church have never experienced a wave of the Spirit, or spoken in tongues. So standing up in that context and praying 'Come, Holy Spirit' is scary because sometimes nothing (apparently) happens. And even if the Spirit does manifest, people are suspicious of anything that they have not seen happen on Sunday morning. So I'm ironically scared both that something won't happen and that something will happen. Because half the kinship will be disturbed with either result. I am committed to waiting on the Spirit regardless, but it is not without its stress.
And then there's the nursing home. They're pretty sure that the Holy Spirit isn't actually part of Christianity. When I try to teach from the Bible, they are pretty sure that I'm wrong, although they are usually very patient with me because I'm 'young' and don't know any better.
Because we visit the nursing home on the 1st and 3rd Sundays of each month, and because this month actually has 5 Sundays, we won't be there on Pentecost, so I decided to teach about Pentecost today. Along with that, we sang songs about the Holy Spirit. Usually I try to choose hymns, so there is a memory the people can connect with, but today I really wanted to stress the Holy Spirit theme, so we sang Be Thou My Vision, and then some contemporary songs. As we sang 'Sweet Sweet Spirit' I was cringing at how 'modern' it was -- copyright in 1962. After all, if you are in your 90's that is pretty cutting-edge. And then I prayed 'Come, Holy Spirit'. There were 33 residents there this morning, as well as 3 staff coming in and out. About half were still awake at the end of the teaching time, which is about par for the course. But that's ok -- if they don't get bored and fall asleep they are not sure it 'counts' as having been to church. (Parenthetically, that reminds me of one time someone in my kinship complained to me that someone else was asleep, and that it was rude. I laughed and said that it didn't bother me until more than half the people were asleep).
Anyway, I was surprised to find that when we went around to the people in the nursing home individually at the end of the service, that more of them than usual seemed to be desiring specific prayer. So while we didn't have any miraculous healings (that I know of), we did seem to have more people connecting with God than usual.
One gentleman was getting a bit agitated, because he had a speech impairment, and I couldn't understand what he was saying. It sounded like he had had a stroke, and also perhaps a stutter, and was speaking a foreign language. Finally I asked him if he was French speaking and he said yes. I know a little French, but the last time I studied it was in 1977, and we certainly were not learning any Christian vocabulary words. So I resorted to reciting the words from a musical composition by Poulenc that we sang in college, in around 1979.
Dieu le pere, createur, ayez pitie de nous, dieu le fis redenteur, ayez pitie de nous, dieu le sante esprit, santificateru, ayez pitie, ayez pitie de nous. [or something like that]
And the agitation in the man immediately left, and he became peaceful, and seemed to be listening and comprehending when I switched back to English.
Who would have thought, when I was in the college choir, that God had a plan for Litanies a la Vierge Noir?
In preparation, I've been praying and studying and teaching on the Holy Spirit. That's one of the advantages of being a leader -- you get to choose the topics! So this week, at both kinship and the nursing home, we studied the Holy Spirit.
The scary part is the ministry time. The reason it's scary is that our church is in a phase where the manifestation of the Spirit is pretty subtle, and many of the people in the church have never experienced a wave of the Spirit, or spoken in tongues. So standing up in that context and praying 'Come, Holy Spirit' is scary because sometimes nothing (apparently) happens. And even if the Spirit does manifest, people are suspicious of anything that they have not seen happen on Sunday morning. So I'm ironically scared both that something won't happen and that something will happen. Because half the kinship will be disturbed with either result. I am committed to waiting on the Spirit regardless, but it is not without its stress.
And then there's the nursing home. They're pretty sure that the Holy Spirit isn't actually part of Christianity. When I try to teach from the Bible, they are pretty sure that I'm wrong, although they are usually very patient with me because I'm 'young' and don't know any better.
Because we visit the nursing home on the 1st and 3rd Sundays of each month, and because this month actually has 5 Sundays, we won't be there on Pentecost, so I decided to teach about Pentecost today. Along with that, we sang songs about the Holy Spirit. Usually I try to choose hymns, so there is a memory the people can connect with, but today I really wanted to stress the Holy Spirit theme, so we sang Be Thou My Vision, and then some contemporary songs. As we sang 'Sweet Sweet Spirit' I was cringing at how 'modern' it was -- copyright in 1962. After all, if you are in your 90's that is pretty cutting-edge. And then I prayed 'Come, Holy Spirit'. There were 33 residents there this morning, as well as 3 staff coming in and out. About half were still awake at the end of the teaching time, which is about par for the course. But that's ok -- if they don't get bored and fall asleep they are not sure it 'counts' as having been to church. (Parenthetically, that reminds me of one time someone in my kinship complained to me that someone else was asleep, and that it was rude. I laughed and said that it didn't bother me until more than half the people were asleep).
Anyway, I was surprised to find that when we went around to the people in the nursing home individually at the end of the service, that more of them than usual seemed to be desiring specific prayer. So while we didn't have any miraculous healings (that I know of), we did seem to have more people connecting with God than usual.
One gentleman was getting a bit agitated, because he had a speech impairment, and I couldn't understand what he was saying. It sounded like he had had a stroke, and also perhaps a stutter, and was speaking a foreign language. Finally I asked him if he was French speaking and he said yes. I know a little French, but the last time I studied it was in 1977, and we certainly were not learning any Christian vocabulary words. So I resorted to reciting the words from a musical composition by Poulenc that we sang in college, in around 1979.
Dieu le pere, createur, ayez pitie de nous, dieu le fis redenteur, ayez pitie de nous, dieu le sante esprit, santificateru, ayez pitie, ayez pitie de nous. [or something like that]
And the agitation in the man immediately left, and he became peaceful, and seemed to be listening and comprehending when I switched back to English.
Who would have thought, when I was in the college choir, that God had a plan for Litanies a la Vierge Noir?
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
What does it take to be 'openminded'?
We're studying evangelism in VLI, and there was considerable discussion about communicating with post-moderns.
A friendly colleague of mine has been busy planning her weddings, and our lunchtime conversation usually touches on the latest highlights. You probably thought that 'weddings' is a typo, but it's not: she will have a 'Christian' wedding in Columbia, and then a Hindu wedding in India. She mentioned the difficulty of finding a minister who is open-minded enough to marry a Christian and a Hindu.
It was clear that the expected response was to sadly bemoan the narrow mindedness of the pastors who won't officiate at this kind of mixed marriage. I'm not sure what I should have said, but what I actually did was chicken out -- I said something that was non-offensive and was true, but that did not shine any light either. I simply said: "I can see that that would be a problem". Apparently, they even considered having one of them convert, just to make the wedding simpler, but they didn't really think that made sense. And again, I chickened out and said something that was non-offensive and was true, but that did not shine any light. I agreed that it didn't make sense to convert just for the purposes of a ceremony.
Frankly, I've never understood the logistics of double weddings. I can see the appeal, for people with divergent backgrounds, but what I don't understand is whether both weddings really 'count'. After the first wedding, are you married? If so, is the second wedding just for show, or does it mean something? What if you go through with the first wedding, and then someone gets cold feet and you don't accomplish the second wedding? If the first wedding is in the 'A' tradition, for person 'A', and the second wedding is in the 'B' tradition for person 'B', and you only have wedding 'A', could you end up with a scenario in which person 'A' is considered married, and person 'B' is not? If this is the case, then to whom is person 'A' married?
Maybe my problem with this isn't religion, maybe it's logic!
But in any event, I'm getting a real-life example of the post-modern worldview.
Pray for 'C'
A friendly colleague of mine has been busy planning her weddings, and our lunchtime conversation usually touches on the latest highlights. You probably thought that 'weddings' is a typo, but it's not: she will have a 'Christian' wedding in Columbia, and then a Hindu wedding in India. She mentioned the difficulty of finding a minister who is open-minded enough to marry a Christian and a Hindu.
It was clear that the expected response was to sadly bemoan the narrow mindedness of the pastors who won't officiate at this kind of mixed marriage. I'm not sure what I should have said, but what I actually did was chicken out -- I said something that was non-offensive and was true, but that did not shine any light either. I simply said: "I can see that that would be a problem". Apparently, they even considered having one of them convert, just to make the wedding simpler, but they didn't really think that made sense. And again, I chickened out and said something that was non-offensive and was true, but that did not shine any light. I agreed that it didn't make sense to convert just for the purposes of a ceremony.
Frankly, I've never understood the logistics of double weddings. I can see the appeal, for people with divergent backgrounds, but what I don't understand is whether both weddings really 'count'. After the first wedding, are you married? If so, is the second wedding just for show, or does it mean something? What if you go through with the first wedding, and then someone gets cold feet and you don't accomplish the second wedding? If the first wedding is in the 'A' tradition, for person 'A', and the second wedding is in the 'B' tradition for person 'B', and you only have wedding 'A', could you end up with a scenario in which person 'A' is considered married, and person 'B' is not? If this is the case, then to whom is person 'A' married?
Maybe my problem with this isn't religion, maybe it's logic!
But in any event, I'm getting a real-life example of the post-modern worldview.
Pray for 'C'
Sunday, May 09, 2004
What do John and Barney have in common?
I don't know much about John. In fact, all I know is that he is in the air force. I've never actually met him. I don't know what religion he is.
I know a lot more about Barney. I know he celebrates Hanukkah. He lives on the upper West Side of Manhattan, likes to sing when he's happy, and suffers from sinus and lung problems, so he hasn't been singing as much lately. When I first met him, and heard him sing, he made me laugh so hard I sat down on the sidewalk and held him in my lap. Barney is a dog. The 'singing' is because he is a basset hound. He sounds as if he thinks he is in an opera: awooo, awooo, awooo-oo-oo-oo-ooooooo.
You may be wondering what John and Barney have in common. They are both on my prayer list. I signed up through The Presidential Prayer Team to 'adopt' a troop, and commit to pray for him/her. It's probably pretty understandable why I pray for John, even though I don't know him.
But I bet you're wondering about Barney. Barney belongs to a co-worker and his wife, 'S' and 'S'. They have become friends as well as colleagues, and I enjoy eating dinner with them every couple of months. They are non-practicing Jews, who have been very courteous about politely asking me how my various Christian activities are going. One day, 'S' said to me:
"Ann, you tell us all about the people you pray for, and you told us you even prayed for a rabbit, so why haven't you ever prayed for Barney?"
She was right. There in Niko's Greek restaurant, while nibbling on grilled octopus, I had to apologize for not praying for the dog. So of course, I then promised that I would start praying for him. He was suffering from a chronic respiratory ailment, requiring daily medication. It was so expensive that they were even considering going to Canada to stock up.
VLI taught me that the most effective witness is one that meets felt needs. So it seemed right to pray for Barney.
Anyway...Barney has begun to feel a little bit better. And even though we have not discussed it, I think that 'S' and 'S' are wondering if maybe there is something to this prayer thing. Maybe the time will come when they ask me to pray for them.
Remember to Pray for Barney! (and John)
I know a lot more about Barney. I know he celebrates Hanukkah. He lives on the upper West Side of Manhattan, likes to sing when he's happy, and suffers from sinus and lung problems, so he hasn't been singing as much lately. When I first met him, and heard him sing, he made me laugh so hard I sat down on the sidewalk and held him in my lap. Barney is a dog. The 'singing' is because he is a basset hound. He sounds as if he thinks he is in an opera: awooo, awooo, awooo-oo-oo-oo-ooooooo.
You may be wondering what John and Barney have in common. They are both on my prayer list. I signed up through The Presidential Prayer Team to 'adopt' a troop, and commit to pray for him/her. It's probably pretty understandable why I pray for John, even though I don't know him.
But I bet you're wondering about Barney. Barney belongs to a co-worker and his wife, 'S' and 'S'. They have become friends as well as colleagues, and I enjoy eating dinner with them every couple of months. They are non-practicing Jews, who have been very courteous about politely asking me how my various Christian activities are going. One day, 'S' said to me:
"Ann, you tell us all about the people you pray for, and you told us you even prayed for a rabbit, so why haven't you ever prayed for Barney?"
She was right. There in Niko's Greek restaurant, while nibbling on grilled octopus, I had to apologize for not praying for the dog. So of course, I then promised that I would start praying for him. He was suffering from a chronic respiratory ailment, requiring daily medication. It was so expensive that they were even considering going to Canada to stock up.
VLI taught me that the most effective witness is one that meets felt needs. So it seemed right to pray for Barney.
Anyway...Barney has begun to feel a little bit better. And even though we have not discussed it, I think that 'S' and 'S' are wondering if maybe there is something to this prayer thing. Maybe the time will come when they ask me to pray for them.
Remember to Pray for Barney! (and John)
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
Did Jesus do Yoga?
One of my co-workers has been taking a meditation class, and knowing my spiritual interest she eagerly shared the fascinating insights she is being taught.
I was taken aback to hear that Jesus was a practitioner of Vedanta Yoga. I didn't handle it very well. In fact, I think I gave an unfortunate little yelp. What?
'C' explained that Jesus was very spiritually advanced, and that's why people didn't understand him, and so he intentionally covered up his advanced Vedanta practices so his teachings would be simple enough for all people to understand.
I was so torn -- I wanted to just jump up and refute this, and yet I also wanted to keep the lines of communication open, so after my strangled yelp I tried to mildly say that this was a new way of looking at it. With a glowing face, she explained that all meditation is actually the same.
Internally, I feel a drawing to spend more time in communion with the Lord, so I have more personal experience to bring into the conversation. And then I wonder whether that is a good motivation or not, even though my goal is evangelism. After all, I should want to spend time with the Lord for no other reason than Himself. And yet it doesn't seem fruitful to avoid spending time with Him for fear of having the wrong motive. Maybe I need to resort to the Nike slogan: just do it.
Meanwhile, pray for 'C'! She's clearly seeking for something...
I was taken aback to hear that Jesus was a practitioner of Vedanta Yoga. I didn't handle it very well. In fact, I think I gave an unfortunate little yelp. What?
'C' explained that Jesus was very spiritually advanced, and that's why people didn't understand him, and so he intentionally covered up his advanced Vedanta practices so his teachings would be simple enough for all people to understand.
I was so torn -- I wanted to just jump up and refute this, and yet I also wanted to keep the lines of communication open, so after my strangled yelp I tried to mildly say that this was a new way of looking at it. With a glowing face, she explained that all meditation is actually the same.
Internally, I feel a drawing to spend more time in communion with the Lord, so I have more personal experience to bring into the conversation. And then I wonder whether that is a good motivation or not, even though my goal is evangelism. After all, I should want to spend time with the Lord for no other reason than Himself. And yet it doesn't seem fruitful to avoid spending time with Him for fear of having the wrong motive. Maybe I need to resort to the Nike slogan: just do it.
Meanwhile, pray for 'C'! She's clearly seeking for something...
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Aslan
Trivia for the day:
To everyone who ever wondered where C.S. Lewis got all those creative names from, it turns out that Aslan is actually a Turkish word that means.....
...lion!
To everyone who ever wondered where C.S. Lewis got all those creative names from, it turns out that Aslan is actually a Turkish word that means.....
...lion!
Monday, May 03, 2004
I am now the egg and idiom expert
More bridge-building with my co-workers.
Back on the topic of food, some of my co-workers describe themselves as eggetarian (vegetarian but also eat eggs) while others call themselves vegetarian (no meat, fish or eggs, but they do eat dairy). And some like to consider themselves vegetarian, but will eat foods such as cookies that might have a bit of egg mixed in, as long as it's not the feature of the dish.
I asked if it would make a difference to them to know that in America, the normal eggs that are found in a supermarket, or in processed foods, are not fertilized. As it turns out, they had wondered, but were pleased to have this confirmed, since it makes it easier for them to find stuff to eat if they don't have to avoid eggs. So I am now considered the egg expert. I've had worse titles.
I've also been sharing idioms. I used to avoid using idioms with foreigners, but now I do the opposite -- I use the idiom, and then explain it. For example, when the cricket matches between India and Pakistan were almost over, 'P' kept running over to share his excitement that India was ahead, but then he would catch himself and say "but it is not over yet, so you cannot be entirely sure". This was a clear setup for "it's not over until the fat lady sings". And yesterday one of the developers was trying to explain that a certain error condition had not repeated while he was monitoring the situation. Obviously, it called for "a watched pot never boils". They eagerly ask followup questions to verify that they understand the usage, and then they recite the idiom a couple of times to make sure they can say it properly.
Back on the topic of food, some of my co-workers describe themselves as eggetarian (vegetarian but also eat eggs) while others call themselves vegetarian (no meat, fish or eggs, but they do eat dairy). And some like to consider themselves vegetarian, but will eat foods such as cookies that might have a bit of egg mixed in, as long as it's not the feature of the dish.
I asked if it would make a difference to them to know that in America, the normal eggs that are found in a supermarket, or in processed foods, are not fertilized. As it turns out, they had wondered, but were pleased to have this confirmed, since it makes it easier for them to find stuff to eat if they don't have to avoid eggs. So I am now considered the egg expert. I've had worse titles.
I've also been sharing idioms. I used to avoid using idioms with foreigners, but now I do the opposite -- I use the idiom, and then explain it. For example, when the cricket matches between India and Pakistan were almost over, 'P' kept running over to share his excitement that India was ahead, but then he would catch himself and say "but it is not over yet, so you cannot be entirely sure". This was a clear setup for "it's not over until the fat lady sings". And yesterday one of the developers was trying to explain that a certain error condition had not repeated while he was monitoring the situation. Obviously, it called for "a watched pot never boils". They eagerly ask followup questions to verify that they understand the usage, and then they recite the idiom a couple of times to make sure they can say it properly.
Monday, April 26, 2004
How is evangelism like a mammogram?
Our VLI class in evangelism has been discussing the need to be culturally sensitive. And I came across an article today that explains this perfectly -- in the context of explaining why some women get mammograms more often than others!
The article was available online from Reuters, quoting from the journal Cancer, June 1, 2004.
To improve mammogram rates, it is important not to lump together all women of the same racial or ethnic group, according to Magai.
"For example, there are various sub-groups of black women, including U.S.-born African-Americans, Jamaicans, Haitians, Trinidadians, Nigerians, South Africans," Magai told Reuters Health.
"To assume that they all share identical social histories and cultural values, beliefs and attitudes would be a mistake, yet much medical research is not yet aware or tuned in to this kind of intercultural variation," she said.
To encourage more women to get mammograms, "we must understand and address the particular groups we want to reach in their own cultural language," Magai said.
So if we just make a small change in that quotation, and replace 'mammogram' with 'evangelism', we'll have a good approach!
The article was available online from Reuters, quoting from the journal Cancer, June 1, 2004.
To improve mammogram rates, it is important not to lump together all women of the same racial or ethnic group, according to Magai.
"For example, there are various sub-groups of black women, including U.S.-born African-Americans, Jamaicans, Haitians, Trinidadians, Nigerians, South Africans," Magai told Reuters Health.
"To assume that they all share identical social histories and cultural values, beliefs and attitudes would be a mistake, yet much medical research is not yet aware or tuned in to this kind of intercultural variation," she said.
To encourage more women to get mammograms, "we must understand and address the particular groups we want to reach in their own cultural language," Magai said.
So if we just make a small change in that quotation, and replace 'mammogram' with 'evangelism', we'll have a good approach!
Another interesting lunch
This lunch was with two other co-workers, 'A', a Hindu and 'M', a Moslem. I had arranged the lunch because 'M' is from Turkey, and I wanted to hear her say something in Turkish, and try some Turkish food with her, in anticipation of my vacation to Turkey in September. 'M' paid for my lunch, showing me true Turkish hospitality.
I was glad it was a buffet, because I would never have ordered the lentil soup, since it doesn't sound appealing to me, but it was extraordinarily good. I still don't know how to say it, though. The guidebooks say that they even serve it for breakfast, so I asked 'M' about that and she said "No, Never. Well, not in Istanbul. Maybe in the rural areas. Yes, probably in the country". That's probably a sequence that will hold true for other topics, such as the need for women to dress respectably, with arms and legs covered. I want to be respectful of local customs.
'A', the Hindu, commented that we had three religions represented at the table, and noted that this would only be possible in some places in the world, and 'M' jumped in and acknowledged that since Turkey is 98% Muslim, you would be unlikely to see this combination at one table. And I have found that except for 'Mosque' the phrase-books don't have any words about religion, because it doesn't even come up.
I was glad it was a buffet, because I would never have ordered the lentil soup, since it doesn't sound appealing to me, but it was extraordinarily good. I still don't know how to say it, though. The guidebooks say that they even serve it for breakfast, so I asked 'M' about that and she said "No, Never. Well, not in Istanbul. Maybe in the rural areas. Yes, probably in the country". That's probably a sequence that will hold true for other topics, such as the need for women to dress respectably, with arms and legs covered. I want to be respectful of local customs.
'A', the Hindu, commented that we had three religions represented at the table, and noted that this would only be possible in some places in the world, and 'M' jumped in and acknowledged that since Turkey is 98% Muslim, you would be unlikely to see this combination at one table. And I have found that except for 'Mosque' the phrase-books don't have any words about religion, because it doesn't even come up.
Friday, April 23, 2004
The 'T' project continues to inspire!
Last fall, my VLI classmate and I did a servant evangelism project where we went to local merchants and cleaned their bathrooms. That one event continues to bear fruit. 'M' has returned to one of the shops, and is building relationships with the people there. As for me, I had mentioned this to my New Age co-worker at the time, and she was fascinated by the story (sort of like watching a snake, or picking a scab -- interested and horrified at the same time.)
Anyway, when I had lunch with a couple of co-workers, my friend 'C', the New Ager, asked whether I had had any other unusual church outreaches. So then 'R', the Moslem, became curious, and asked about it. The surprising result was that she decided to go to her local Catholic Church and ask if they had any community activities she could join in.
I was so amazed I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My confusion was then compounded by the fact that she tried to explain that her husband goes to Mass a couple of times a year, but in her beautiful Bombay English accent, I thought she was saying 'Mosque' instead of 'Mahss'.
Anyway, when I had lunch with a couple of co-workers, my friend 'C', the New Ager, asked whether I had had any other unusual church outreaches. So then 'R', the Moslem, became curious, and asked about it. The surprising result was that she decided to go to her local Catholic Church and ask if they had any community activities she could join in.
I was so amazed I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My confusion was then compounded by the fact that she tried to explain that her husband goes to Mass a couple of times a year, but in her beautiful Bombay English accent, I thought she was saying 'Mosque' instead of 'Mahss'.
Sunday, April 18, 2004
IT'S SPRING!
After a long, hard winter, Spring is here. But everyone I meet keeps saying "it's unbelievable". I look at it the other way -- I thought the winter was unbelievable. Today is an example of what is supposed to happen in Spring!
But all joking aside, it was a beautiful day, and I was so grateful. And then I thought about my own reaction, and realized that I need to exercise my awareness of gratitude. So I tried to be observant of God's good gifts today. And here is what I learned:
HAPPY SPRING!
But all joking aside, it was a beautiful day, and I was so grateful. And then I thought about my own reaction, and realized that I need to exercise my awareness of gratitude. So I tried to be observant of God's good gifts today. And here is what I learned:
- I am healthy and strong (when I walked into the nursing home this morning, on my own two legs, I was reminded to not take that for granted)
- If you have a good personality, people will still like you even if you get old and lose your memory, and have no idea who they are.
- Sometimes forsythia and daffodils are exactly the same shade of yellow.
- Pink and red actually do go together after all -- when it is a pair of cardinals in a deep pink flowering tree.
- Spring smells different from Winter. But it also smells different here from in the Adirondacks. In the Adirondacks, it smells like thawed earth. Here it smells like flowers.
- Sometimes I just don't have the capacity to be grateful. Such as when the 75 year old man drove up on the sidewalk to ask me out. Sigh.
- Ice cream is a wonderful gift from God. So it's important to eat it often, in order to be fully appreciative.
HAPPY SPRING!
Thursday, April 15, 2004
Did I really say that?
In VLI, we are studying evangelism. So I've been trying to be aware of people around me, and to notice conversational openings.
I had lunch today with two co-workers. 'C' is a nominal Christian who is drawn to New Age concepts, and is engaged to a Hindu. She is very interested in Yoga, and meditation. 'R' is a Muslim, who attended a Catholic school as a child. She automatically recites Muslim prayers when she is scared, but remembers reciting the 'Our Father' in school.
The conversation turned to Yoga, and the benefits of meditation, and the difficulty of clearing one's mind. I tried to say that the difference in Christian meditation is that one doesn't empty one's mind, rather one focuses on God. But that distinction didn't end up communicating at all, because C felt that Om is the same as God. So I decided to try a post-modern, experiential approach.
Sitting there in the middle of the corporate cafeteria, I contributed that when my mind is too cluttered to meditate on the Lord, I pray in tongues. I asked them if they were familiar with the phrase, and then tried to explain that praying in tongues is a way of switching from a mind communication to a spirit communication. It opened up the conversation to a real dialog about different types of prayer. It's not that they necessarily understood what I was saying, but they were interested to find out that there was a dimension of Christianity that they had never heard of. I still can't believe that I told them that speaking in tongues is like Yoga. I'm not sure whether it was inspired or whether it was heresy.
We actually discussed 5 different prayer languages: Arabic, Hindi, English, Latin, and tongues.
I was still recovering from that conversation this afternoon, when I left work early to take a Jewish friend to the Alpha celebration dinner. I was a neurotic wreck during the whole thing, obsessively noticing every time someone said the word 'Christian'. She was pretty stressed, but handled it graciously.
Clearly, the day had not included enough languages. On the way home she compensated by sprinkling her conversation with Yiddish.
I had lunch today with two co-workers. 'C' is a nominal Christian who is drawn to New Age concepts, and is engaged to a Hindu. She is very interested in Yoga, and meditation. 'R' is a Muslim, who attended a Catholic school as a child. She automatically recites Muslim prayers when she is scared, but remembers reciting the 'Our Father' in school.
The conversation turned to Yoga, and the benefits of meditation, and the difficulty of clearing one's mind. I tried to say that the difference in Christian meditation is that one doesn't empty one's mind, rather one focuses on God. But that distinction didn't end up communicating at all, because C felt that Om is the same as God. So I decided to try a post-modern, experiential approach.
Sitting there in the middle of the corporate cafeteria, I contributed that when my mind is too cluttered to meditate on the Lord, I pray in tongues. I asked them if they were familiar with the phrase, and then tried to explain that praying in tongues is a way of switching from a mind communication to a spirit communication. It opened up the conversation to a real dialog about different types of prayer. It's not that they necessarily understood what I was saying, but they were interested to find out that there was a dimension of Christianity that they had never heard of. I still can't believe that I told them that speaking in tongues is like Yoga. I'm not sure whether it was inspired or whether it was heresy.
We actually discussed 5 different prayer languages: Arabic, Hindi, English, Latin, and tongues.
I was still recovering from that conversation this afternoon, when I left work early to take a Jewish friend to the Alpha celebration dinner. I was a neurotic wreck during the whole thing, obsessively noticing every time someone said the word 'Christian'. She was pretty stressed, but handled it graciously.
Clearly, the day had not included enough languages. On the way home she compensated by sprinkling her conversation with Yiddish.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
No unwholesome talk
In Ephesians 4:29, Paul writes:
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths...
This little verse is quite a challenge to me. I used it for one of the sermons I had to write for VLI, and so of course I felt repeatedly convicted. My temptation at home and with my friends is to be sarcastic, and my temptation at work is to be negative and defensive. I'm always afraid that I'm being a bad example of a Christian.
So I was interested by something that happened at work today. T, my new boss, was frustrated at not finding one of the developers we were looking for, and he said "shoot", or "darn" or something like that, and then turned to me and said "you know, I try to clean up my language when I'm around you". So here I was worrying that it would look bad that I sound pessimistic, and all the time what people were noticing is that I (usually) don't curse.
And then I realized that a former boss had also had the same reaction, and had announced one day that he wasn't going to curse in front of me any more. The man really struggled, but I have to give him credit for a valiant effort. Occasionally, when he just couldn't stand it, he would warn me first -- "Ann, cover your ears!"
What's funny about all this is that I've never asked any of these guys to stop cursing. They just decide on their own that it's not appropriate.
But my next personal discipline will be to stop taking the name of the Lord in vain. I never realized until recently that I was doing this, and I'm not even aware of it, so I'm not sure how I will stop. So I will use my former boss as an example, because if he was able to change his habits, so can I.
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths...
This little verse is quite a challenge to me. I used it for one of the sermons I had to write for VLI, and so of course I felt repeatedly convicted. My temptation at home and with my friends is to be sarcastic, and my temptation at work is to be negative and defensive. I'm always afraid that I'm being a bad example of a Christian.
So I was interested by something that happened at work today. T, my new boss, was frustrated at not finding one of the developers we were looking for, and he said "shoot", or "darn" or something like that, and then turned to me and said "you know, I try to clean up my language when I'm around you". So here I was worrying that it would look bad that I sound pessimistic, and all the time what people were noticing is that I (usually) don't curse.
And then I realized that a former boss had also had the same reaction, and had announced one day that he wasn't going to curse in front of me any more. The man really struggled, but I have to give him credit for a valiant effort. Occasionally, when he just couldn't stand it, he would warn me first -- "Ann, cover your ears!"
What's funny about all this is that I've never asked any of these guys to stop cursing. They just decide on their own that it's not appropriate.
But my next personal discipline will be to stop taking the name of the Lord in vain. I never realized until recently that I was doing this, and I'm not even aware of it, so I'm not sure how I will stop. So I will use my former boss as an example, because if he was able to change his habits, so can I.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
What do you get if you mix 7 Indians, an Indonesian, a Brit, and an American?
It's either the beginning of a joke, or it's a description of a little gathering we had after work.
There were two purposes, the first was to say goodbye to one of the consultants who will be returning to India tomorrow, and the second was to collect donations for the march of dimes.
Since the guest of honor had not yet arrived, 'S' was making conversation, and commented that often the consultants go on vacation single, and come back married. A few acknowledging grins ensued, and then a discussion of arranged marriages. Several were strong proponents. 'P' explained that his own marriage was arranged.
I had an immediate flashback to the one other thing I know about his wife. She is said to be a good cook. One day 'P' called me over and kindly offered me an 'Indian donut' that she had made. He told me that it was not sweet, and that it perhaps had a surprise in it. I was happy to have the opportunity to try something special --- but when I got to the 'surprise' I realized why Dunkin Donuts is probably not going to roll out a line of pastries flavored with chunks of jalapenos.
But in the meanwhile, the conversation was continuing, assisted by a pitcher of sangria. They explained that the advantage of an arranged marriage is that your family knows and checks out the other family, so you are less likely to be faked out by someone. I mentioned that you would really have to trust your family, if they were going to pick your mate for you. They all thought that was very funny. But they admitted that some of them now use a hybrid approach which they feel gives them the best of all worlds -- their families check out the candidates, but they retain veto power. 'P' claims that their divorce rate is only 2%, because they take their marriage commitment seriously. We all agreed that that's way better than the American averages.
So then I tried interjecting a monkey wrench into the conversation, and informed them that in my religion we also behave differently from the rest of America, for example, we don't live together before marriage. It seemed a new idea to them that all Americans were not the same.
It may have looked like an evening of Sangria and Tapas, but it was actually bridge building.
There were two purposes, the first was to say goodbye to one of the consultants who will be returning to India tomorrow, and the second was to collect donations for the march of dimes.
Since the guest of honor had not yet arrived, 'S' was making conversation, and commented that often the consultants go on vacation single, and come back married. A few acknowledging grins ensued, and then a discussion of arranged marriages. Several were strong proponents. 'P' explained that his own marriage was arranged.
I had an immediate flashback to the one other thing I know about his wife. She is said to be a good cook. One day 'P' called me over and kindly offered me an 'Indian donut' that she had made. He told me that it was not sweet, and that it perhaps had a surprise in it. I was happy to have the opportunity to try something special --- but when I got to the 'surprise' I realized why Dunkin Donuts is probably not going to roll out a line of pastries flavored with chunks of jalapenos.
But in the meanwhile, the conversation was continuing, assisted by a pitcher of sangria. They explained that the advantage of an arranged marriage is that your family knows and checks out the other family, so you are less likely to be faked out by someone. I mentioned that you would really have to trust your family, if they were going to pick your mate for you. They all thought that was very funny. But they admitted that some of them now use a hybrid approach which they feel gives them the best of all worlds -- their families check out the candidates, but they retain veto power. 'P' claims that their divorce rate is only 2%, because they take their marriage commitment seriously. We all agreed that that's way better than the American averages.
So then I tried interjecting a monkey wrench into the conversation, and informed them that in my religion we also behave differently from the rest of America, for example, we don't live together before marriage. It seemed a new idea to them that all Americans were not the same.
It may have looked like an evening of Sangria and Tapas, but it was actually bridge building.
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
Even English isn't understandable any more
It started with an email inviting me to a conference call for work.
The only problem was that the email said that the meeting was at 16:00 GMT+1.
So first I translate 16:00 to 4pm, and then I try to figure out where GMT+1 is, versus where I am.
I know that we're usually GMT-5, but we just changed our clocks for daylight savings time.
Does GMT+1 also change their clocks, keeping the time difference at 6 hours, or are we now 5 hours apart, or is it 7?
So I went on the web and found a site that would figure out what time it was in NY. But for that site, I had to indicate which time zone was using daylight savings time.
So I had to find a different site. No problem. Except the website said it was 13:00 and I knew that had to be wrong.
So I finally let my pride bite the dust and asked a co-worker. The answer was 10am.
Unfortunately, I had another conference call at 10, but that one is pretty quick, so I decided to dial-in to the short one first, and then join the international call.
However, the phone number started with the city code, and I realized that I needed to dial the country code first. I tried dialing 01 which didn't work (I think that's actually the US code) and I needed the other country code.
Then I realized that while I knew that the other country was in the GMT+1 time zone, I wasn't sure where I was calling. But some of the people are stationed in Zurich, so I figured Switzerland, but then I needed the Swiss country code, which I didn't know.
Would you believe that I actually started dialing random combinations of ones and zeros followed by the city code and the phone number, and the pin number, and I actually got through.
And then I ended up in the middle of the call, in the middle of the project, and didn't have any idea what they were talking about.
The good news[!] is that this is a weekly call, so I get to try again next Wednesday...
The only problem was that the email said that the meeting was at 16:00 GMT+1.
So first I translate 16:00 to 4pm, and then I try to figure out where GMT+1 is, versus where I am.
I know that we're usually GMT-5, but we just changed our clocks for daylight savings time.
Does GMT+1 also change their clocks, keeping the time difference at 6 hours, or are we now 5 hours apart, or is it 7?
So I went on the web and found a site that would figure out what time it was in NY. But for that site, I had to indicate which time zone was using daylight savings time.
So I had to find a different site. No problem. Except the website said it was 13:00 and I knew that had to be wrong.
So I finally let my pride bite the dust and asked a co-worker. The answer was 10am.
Unfortunately, I had another conference call at 10, but that one is pretty quick, so I decided to dial-in to the short one first, and then join the international call.
However, the phone number started with the city code, and I realized that I needed to dial the country code first. I tried dialing 01 which didn't work (I think that's actually the US code) and I needed the other country code.
Then I realized that while I knew that the other country was in the GMT+1 time zone, I wasn't sure where I was calling. But some of the people are stationed in Zurich, so I figured Switzerland, but then I needed the Swiss country code, which I didn't know.
Would you believe that I actually started dialing random combinations of ones and zeros followed by the city code and the phone number, and the pin number, and I actually got through.
And then I ended up in the middle of the call, in the middle of the project, and didn't have any idea what they were talking about.
The good news[!] is that this is a weekly call, so I get to try again next Wednesday...
Monday, April 05, 2004
What do you know about St Paul
tonight, on the ABC network special about Jesus and Paul, Peter Jennings asked people on the street (in Rome) what they knew about St Paul. It would be interesting to know what the full set of un-edited responses was. The responses that made it onto the show were unanimous -- "I don't know".
I felt like a little kid who was eager to be called on in class, but the teacher was ignoring her and calling on the other kids. After all, we're in the middle of a VLI class all about Paul. So I retaliated by talking back to the TV. My upstairs neighbors might have heard the following scraps:
"He was from Tarsus -- and by the way, did you know that's in Turkey?"
"He was Jewish, knew Greek, and was a Roman citizen, which made him uniquely qualified to spread the gospel across the known world"
"Not just Jewish, but a Pharisee, educated at the feet of Gamaliel"
"Taught that gentiles did not have to be circumcized, or follow Jewish law, to be followers of Jesus"
I had such mixed feelings about the program. On the one hand, it was pretty amazing that they even aired the program at all -- 3 hours in prime time on a major network. On the other hand, there were only about three sentences in the whole program that evidenced any faith. However, the back-door benefit of the academic approach is that the historic reality of Jesus and Paul came through clearly. So perhaps some viewers will find that sticking in their minds, and causing them to consider Christianity.
I felt like a little kid who was eager to be called on in class, but the teacher was ignoring her and calling on the other kids. After all, we're in the middle of a VLI class all about Paul. So I retaliated by talking back to the TV. My upstairs neighbors might have heard the following scraps:
"He was from Tarsus -- and by the way, did you know that's in Turkey?"
"He was Jewish, knew Greek, and was a Roman citizen, which made him uniquely qualified to spread the gospel across the known world"
"Not just Jewish, but a Pharisee, educated at the feet of Gamaliel"
"Taught that gentiles did not have to be circumcized, or follow Jewish law, to be followers of Jesus"
I had such mixed feelings about the program. On the one hand, it was pretty amazing that they even aired the program at all -- 3 hours in prime time on a major network. On the other hand, there were only about three sentences in the whole program that evidenced any faith. However, the back-door benefit of the academic approach is that the historic reality of Jesus and Paul came through clearly. So perhaps some viewers will find that sticking in their minds, and causing them to consider Christianity.