For previous updates about my life and work State-side, go here.

2.  You can’t get over the conveniences of drinkable tap water, washers and dryers, hot showers.

3.  You still frequently think and dream in Thai.

4.  You feel strangely isolated knowing that no one around you would understand you if you spoke in Thai.

5.  You feel confused about simple things like telephone etiquette and tipping.

6.  You get unnaturally gleeful over a plate of rice.

7.  Certain worship songs you knew in both Thai and English are now more familiar in Thai.

8.  You think about people back in Thailand a LOT.

9.  You cringe and try hard not to judge people whenever food is thrown away.

10.  You try hard not to judge people about a lot of things.

11.  You feel guilty, somehow, for leaving.

12.  You feel more poor in America than you did living in a slum in Thailand.

13.  You don’t recognize a single song on the radio.

14.  You’re back on season 2 of Lost.

15.  You don’t get fazed a bit by L.A. traffic.

16.  You still calculate prices into baht.

17.  You realize one day how nice it is not have any mosquito, ant, or cockroach bites.

18.  It seems like everyone around you is always SO BUSY.

19.  You find yourself forgetting that certain topics are taboo here that you’re used to being open about.

20.  You feel like you knew who you were in Thailand, but have to figure out who you are now in America.

21.  You realize you’ve adapted Thai values that people around you don’t necessarily have.

22.  You assume that, like Thais, your friends often have a hidden meaning to what they say, when they usually don’t.

23.  You feel like you have to start over from scratch in every area of your life.

24.  You realize you aged during your time overseas, and haven’t returned to a former age as well as a former country.

It occurred to me this morning that right now I am in the first extended period of not being in some kind of outreach-based ministry since my freshman year in college.

I led Bible studies or evangelistic outreaches or short-term missions trips for 3 out of my 4 years in college.  I discipled people, I shared the Gospel, and somewhere tried to fit in classes and homework and tests.  Then I spent a year interning with InterVarsity, immediately after which I left for Bangkok for 5 years.  Where I not only helped plant a church and train leaders and disciple new believers, but did it all while sharing my space with rats and mosquitos and the sounds of all sorts of chaos of my slum.

And I wonder why I’m tired?

I wouldn’t trade a minute of my last 10 years.  And I hope that sometime soon God will lead me back into direct ministry, will again give me people to whom I can be his hands and to whom my voice can speak his words of love.  If it were strictly up to me, I’d have that now.  I’d choose to be full of energy; having had a couple months of rest I’d come down to L.A. and hit the ground running again, rather than feel the way I do now, like I’m moving through molasses.

So since I don’t have a choice in the matter, I’m resting a minute.  I’m taking a deep breath.  And after so many years of finding my significance in the people who became believers, or numbers in my Bible study, I’m now remembering that I was significant to God before I could take my first step.  And I’m significant now, though I feel once again like a child who needs to be carried and cared for.

I’m still playing a key role in Servant Partners, though it is much more behind-the-scenes, much less emotionally exhausting.  I have time to sleep and to read and to process things I had no energy to deal with while in Bangkok.  I can see God’s hand, now, in preparing a room for me out in a nearby middle-class suburb, though I’d hoped to live among the poor in the ghetto.  It hadn’t made sense at the time, but now I see God knew what he was doing (imagine that).

Jesus says the call is to lay down your life, to lose it in order to find it in him.  I think this is what I’m learning– that sometimes this life-surrender looks like sharing in the suffering of the least of these, of following Jesus to the margins and the marginalized.  But sometimes it looks like laying down ungodly ambition, as righteous as it may appear, to allow God to bring his Kingdom more fully into one’s own weary heart and soul.

It’s Mary kneeling at Jesus’ feet when so much could be done in the kitchen.  It’s the expensive perfume poured out on his feet, which could have been sold and given to the poor.  It’s my feet, bare and dirty, being washed by Jesus’ holy hands.

So coming back to the States and being able to just rest, to enjoy people and nature, was beautiful.  It was also such a good time of reflecting on what God was doing in those last 5 years.  There is something about telling the story to others that shines light on God’s movement more brightly for myself.

So here are some pictures to illustrate a bit what this gift was like for me.  You can click on each photo for a brief description.

Not only do the poor need us, we need the poor to remind us what being human is about. In the same way that the poor learn to identify themselves with their lack, the wealthy learn to identify themselves with their wealth. It is in the meeting of the two that we can recognize ourselves and one another as human.–Justin McRoberts

This morning I have the opportunity to share about my five years in Thailand, and the great challenge of condensing it into 20 minutes.  Let’s see, that would be about four minutes per year, less than 30 seconds per month….  No, don’t worry, I won’t try to do that.  I’ll just give some highlights, some snapshots into what God was doing that I got to be a part of.

For people who aren’t familiar with what I’ve been up to:  in October I returned from five years of living and serving in the slums of Bangkok, Thailand.  My team and I worked alongside local Thai church leaders to reach out to the poor in that city.   Our vision was to see God’s Kingdom coming to the slums.  What that meant to us was not just spiritual salvation, but healing and justice and things made right in all of the brokenness in those slums.  So we worked with people in the communities to address their felt needs, to become empowered to work for change, as well as sharing verbally about Jesus to those who were interested.  We partnered with a Thai foundation to minister to tangible needs in the slums.  And ultimately we wanted to see churches planted, led by Thais in Thai ways, that reached out holistically to its neighbors, and reproduced to other communities.  Later I’ll give some examples of how we did those things.

When I found out that today the church celebrates epiphany, I thought that was really cool timing.  Because in the last few months I was in Thailand I watched my slum community have its own epiphany.  The meaning of this word in Greek is similar to “manifestation” or “revelation”.  We say things like “I had an epiphany!” often to mean we figured something out, had a flash of insight.  But the Biblical epiphany means God making himself known to man.  His initiative, not ours.  God coming to live among us, rather than us figuring out how to get to God.  Jesus was born into our world, born into each of our hearts, born into that slum in Bangkok.  I was there in Thailand as a missionary, but really it was God doing the work, drawing people to himself.  I just got to be along for the ride.

At epiphany we often reflect on the magi, or wise men, and their journey to Bethlehem.  The passage I chose from Colossians captures beautifully what it is that these magi discovered, what it is that my neighbors experienced and that I got to experience anew as I saw their child-like wonder of new faith.

(Colossians 1:15-23) He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death, so as to present you holy and blameless and irreproachable before him— provided that you continue securely established and steadfast in the faith, without shifting from the hope promised by the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven. I, Paul, became a servant of this gospel.

There is so much packed into this passage.  It’s rich with meaning and symbolism.  I’m going to just touch on two themes and how I experienced this in Bangkok.  The first is this idea of Jesus being the “fullness of God”, which was “pleased” to dwell in Jesus, to dwell in our flesh and walk our earth.  This is an incredible thought!  Look at who Paul says this is—the “image of God”, the creator of everything, the one who holds all things together.  This is who came to live among us as our friend.

The magi saw the sign of the star, and even though they were not Jews, they still sought out Jesus.  These were dignified astrologers, and yet when they discovered Jesus, this small, vulnerable child, they fell down and worshipped.  It’s quite the scene to picture!  One might imagine them coming to see Jesus and being less than impressed—I mean, he’s just a child, and born in a barn, to an unwed mother…  But instead, they clearly experienced something about Jesus that caused them to realize this is no ordinary child.  And he wasn’t—he was all of God’s fullness, made flesh and blood.  And for me, the fact that he did choose to be born in such humble conditions, rather than in a palace among the rich and powerful, causes me to worship him more, not less.  Jesus was, and is, pleased to dwell among the ordinary, the poor, the weak.

This kind of seeking, and then having an experience with Jesus, is often how Thais come to believe.  Most Thais worship a variety of gods and idols, and those who have begun worshipping Jesus often talk about how different an experience it is.  They talk about how they feel that God, rather than their idols, is alive, how they feel like Jesus is right beside them as a friend.  While Buddhist spirituality has some positive benefits in the lives of its followers, it lacks a love relationship with God.  In Jesus, they discover a living God pleased to dwell among them.

This first picture is of a typical Buddhist temple, and the second is at one of our combined worship services.  These are three believers from a slum community doing a traditional Thai dance in worship.

In the first slum community I lived in, I led a Bible study with some teenagers (in the picture above) who wanted to know more about Jesus.  Early on, they asked if we could learn about the birth of Jesus.  We talked about who his parents were, where he was born, who his first visitors were at the manger.  And I asked them, “if Jesus were born today in Bangkok, where do you think he would be born?”  And they answered, “here in one of our slums.”  His first visitors, rather than shepherds, would have been rice farmers like their own family members.  The magi would have been the city’s elite, but rather than coming in as experts or patrons, they would have knelt to the ground.

This was really an incredible story to them, because in their Buddhist society, the rich and powerful were seen as the “good” people, since they must be full of good karma.  But the poor were poor because of their bad karma, from this life or previous lives.  But here is Jesus being born among them, replacing shame and lies with hope and new identity.

Three of these girls became followers of Jesus, and though the fourth didn’t officially make that decision while I was there, she was so captured by Jesus that she read through the entire Bible and sought after him more than many Christians I know.

This incarnation, this “fullness of God” that is “pleased to dwell” among us, is why we ministered by living among the poor in Bangkok.  We want to bring God’s love and his healing into those communities, rather than just inviting people to come to church in another part of the city.  Church is his body of believers, anyway, rather than a building.  We tried to take on as much of their lifestyle as we could, honor them through learning from them, and break down some of the barriers that naturally exist between us.  Soon they stop seeing us as just “western” or “wealthy”, but as fellow human beings seeking similar things.

Below is a picture of my bedroom and also a view down one of the three lanes in my community.

These are more pictures from my house.  Here I’m making Thai food with my friend Yut, and the second is a picture of children singing from worship books on our front porch.

These are pictures from the first slum I lived in that has actually been evicted now.

We have church in homes right within the slum.  People feel the most comfortable dropping by to experience worship, and more likely to join in as we sing songs using their instruments, in the style that they most resonate with.  Buddhists are used to having to go to the temple in order to “make merit”, and many are thrilled that they can worship and pray wherever they are.

This is another picture of what worship looks like.  This was the church that started in my house in those last few months I was there.  In that community there were no believers when we moved in, but after a long investment in relationships and trying to show God’s love through our actions as well as words, 6 people became believers within 2 weeks.  So we started this weekly gathering for worship, studying the Word, praying together.

We always start with a Thai meal, sharing from communal bowls of hot curry or stir-frys, eating everything over lots of rice, of course.

We also try to follow Jesus’ example of caring for the whole person in all of their needs.  We work with people to identify what they feel are the most pressing issues in their communities, help them to develop as leaders and work together to find solutions, rather than always depending on outsiders.  In my community they were most concerned about the children, particularly that they weren’t being supervised well and had nowhere safe to play.  So these are a couple pictures of events they planned and led together that were both fun and educational, and really helped the kids feel loved by the adults in that community.  Events like this helped the adults have hope that they could work together to bring about change, and that they didn’t have to stay isolated or fatalistic.  This is one of the least visible but most destructive effects of poverty: it steals people’s dignity, the identity God gave them when he created them and said “it is very good”.  But when we help people to begin to dream, to plan, to act, then some of this damage falls away.  Eventually they plan bigger actions, try to get at the root of the issues they face in their slums.  They can then seek outside resources and help instead of just waiting for someone to offer it.  They are more empowered to partner with those who can bring lasting change instead of feeling at the whims of those in power.

Below is a picture of my good friend Yut, the very first believer in the second community I lived in.  I’d like to share her story to illustrate the second theme that stood out to me from today’s passage.

At epiphany we often think of the magi making their journey, and then about the three gifts they gave Jesus.  But the greatest gift in that story is Jesus himself.  In the passage in Colossians it says that through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. And that because of this, we are now holy and blameless and irreproachable.  This is an amazing gift—God is making all things new!  He is reconciling, healing, the things in this world that are broken, such as poverty.  He is reuniting us with himself, and with the identity he gave us when he created us.  Gifts that we give, that the magi gave, are in response to this greatest of gifts, rather than attempts to earn it.  They are simply signs that we are giving our worship, our loyalty, our hearts, to God, which is what he really wants.

This was very good news to the poor in Bangkok.  Buddhists in Thailand, most of them, believe their gods DO need their offerings.  They believe they must work their way to a better next life, they must appease the spirits so they will be blessed rather than cursed.  The poor often feel their poverty is a curse because of their bad karma, so they try to make more merit.  This is often done through monetary offerings, which they just don’t have.  So they feel stuck in their poverty, aware of their sin but unable to cleanse it on their own.  Many of them just accept poverty as their fate, and give up trying to make their lives or their communities better.

When my friend Yut began really seeking after Jesus, it was largely because her attempts to buy the favors of her gods had failed.  She told us, “I’ve been a good Buddhist my whole life.   I’ve made merit, gone to the temple, but none of it is working.”  Her family was on the brink of falling apart, she had lost a job and they were in serious debt.  She felt at the end of herself.  But when she heard that Jesus wanted to make his home in her, that he offers her grace and freedom from the law of karma, and that she doesn’t have to (and can’t) pay him back or earn it somehow, that was such good news.  Like the magi, her journey took her awhile.  After investing months into our friendship, many hours talking through her questions about Jesus, she was finally ready to commit her life to him.  On the day she made the decision, she said, “even if I don’t see God do amazing miracles in my life, just knowing that I’m his daughter, that I’m not alone—that is enough.”

This picture is of Yut receiving her first Bible.  We threw a party for her shortly after she committed her life to Jesus, and she was so thrilled to receive that Bible.  She practically grabbed it out of our hands.  The other woman in this picture, one of Yut’s friends, also became a believer that night because of Yut’s testimony.  As we met with them later, both of these women talked endlessly about how much peace they had received, how they were no longer afraid of spirits or death, how they would wake up at night feeling like Jesus was right next to them, inviting them to talk to him.  It was amazing.  Instead of an identity based on karma, they are now “holy and blameless and irreproachable”.  They are daughters of the King of kings, this fullness of God who dwells among them.  Instead of giving offerings to nameless, frightful gods, they are now worshipping a God of love.  One day as church was getting started, Yut turned to me and whispered, “do you know what I would do if Jesus were right here in this room?  I would throw my arms around him.”

This amazing gift of Jesus among us, come to reconcile all things and bring new hope, inspires people to give in return.  This is why the magi gave gifts—because the gift of Jesus is worthy of everything we have.  It is why Yut shared the Gospel so freely with others, leading this neighbor, her sister and her husband (just last month) to Christ.  It is why she gives away bags of rice to those needier than her in the community, why she has recently fought successfully to give up her gambling addiction and truly care for her children.  It’s why Thai believers we work with lead house churches as volunteers, help run a scholarship program for youth from the slums, help a community being evicted save together and relocate to a new plot of land.  When people receive this gift, this hope of Jesus’ reconciling work, they give their lives in response.  And the Kingdom in all its dimensions begins to take shape.

For me, after watching this epiphany take place in slum communities in Bangkok, I’m hooked.  I feel like it is such a privilege to be a part of this healing work Jesus is doing.  I’m going to continue to work with Servant Partners in their L.A. office, as well as move into a low-income community there and see how God would use me to reach out to my neighbors.

The original epiphany happened over 2,000 years ago, but Jesus continues to take on our flesh and blood to make himself known.  He is pleased to dwell among us, and pleased to use us as his hands and feet, to be his church inside this building and outside.  In this new year, may we experience this Christ within us in a new way, and offer this gift to others with greater boldness and love.  Amen.

I was on the city of Pomona website this evening, looking for pictures I might be able to use in my presentation tomorrow, to illustrate the place that will soon be my home.  I visited the “New Resident Information” page, which is mainly some helpful essential info like how to set up a phone line and locate your local public school.  Then down at the bottom is a list of “frequently called numbers”.  Here it is.  I’m not making this up.

Abandoned shopping cart reporting
Grafitti removal
Illegal dumping reporting
Landlord/tenant disputes
Weed abatement – vacant lots
Fire prevention and complaints
Roaches, rats and vermin
Sewer main back-up
Sanitation special pick-up
Street/alley potholes

Not exactly the best advertisement for your city, Pomona.  But I guess it’s a tactful way of showing me what I’m getting myself into.  Well, I’ve had “roaches, rats and vermin” in my house and sometimes my bed, slum children writing on my walls with whatever they could get their hands on, mounds of garbage floating on the swamp under my house, for five years.  So here I come.  You don’t scare me.

Servant Partners: Change in Urban Poor Communities

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Servant Partners: Church Planting in Urban Poor Communities

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Happy New Year!

photo credit: prakhar

“Don’t listen to him, this is your decision.  Do what YOU want to do.  If he really loved you he’d love you enough to let you follow your own heart.”

“(enter name of product here)- for whenever the urge strikes.”

“It’s up to you, you have to choose your own path in life.  I will support whatever decision you make.”

“Go ahead, pamper yourself– you deserve it.”

These aren’t direct quotes from anything, but doesn’t it sound familiar?  I keep hearing things like this on TV dramas, commercials, daily conversation, and they seem to go unquestioned.  The values of being true to yourself and independent have some positive elements.  But there seems to be a widely-held ideal that we are only responsible to ourselves, we should listen to and obey every urge or desire we feel, and we should not pay too much attention to requests or desires of others or we may lose ourselves, not be “true to our hearts.”

Obviously, I’m exaggerating and generalizing some.  But not a whole lot.

On the other end of the spectrum is Thailand.  (No, literally– I saw a spectrum recently that put America and Thailand on opposite ends of the individualism/collectivism spectrum).  I think that if Thais were to make a list and rank who they believed they are responsible for and to, they would put themselves quite a ways down the list.  Family would be number one, followed by the king (though those two might be switched).  Friends, neighbors, patrons would make the list.  They would likely mention their ancestors, their country and culture, Buddha and the idols they worship.

photo credit: munir

In making decisions, it is rare to hear a Thai talk about what they want to do or their “gut instinct”.  Instead they try to balance the effect of the decision on important people in their lives.  There is a word in Thai that we don’t have in English except as a phrase: “grengjai”, or “to be afraid of imposing on someone.”  I think it’s one of the most commonly-used words in their language:

“I wanted to, but I was grengjai”

“No, please, you don’t have to be grengjai.”

“How rude– he wasn’t grengjai at all.”

At first glance this can seem much more gracious, much less selfish than the extreme our culture often goes.  But in the extreme, this aspect of collectivism can be pretty ugly, too.  People really can lose themselves and their boundaries.  Relationships stay surface-level because people don’t want to do the uncomfortable work of conflict and reconciliation.  Bitterness grows as people constantly stuff down what they want for what they feel they “should” do.  Unhealthy compromises are made and abuses suffered.  One person is treated unfairly in favor of another of higher status or closer connection.

Having now lived and adapted to both cultures, I find myself trying to reconcile these extremes.  What in each of these worldviews needs to be redeemed?  What is from God?

So what I’ve come up with is that the most important thing is that we are responsible to God, first and foremost.  Otherwise I become my own god, or people around me become gods.

Jesus does teach us to lay down our lives for others, which is something we Americans could learn a bit about from Thais.  But if this is not as a submitted act of worship to him, it becomes idolatry or moralistic duty.

God also tells us that if we are believers we have the Spirit inside us to guide us, and that sometimes, in obedience to him, we have to do things that are offensive to others.  This comes more naturally to us in the West than those in the East.  But without submission to that Spirit within us, we follow our own broken, diseased, selfish hearts and become our own gods, justifying the destruction we leave in our wake.

It seems to me that from Scripture, the correct hierarchy of responsibility should be first to God, then to others, and finally to ourselves.  After all, we are supposed to think of others as greater than ourselves.  But sometimes we must be like Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet rather than helping her sister with the meal preparation, or like Paul, confronting those in authority.  How we relate to others and to our own desires must be submitted to God.

This challenges me to be more in prayer.  Because the Thai side of me pulls me in one direction (defer to others, don’t assert yourself too much, figure out what will keep the peace) and the American side pulls me the other (listen to yourself, ignore what others think, go your own way).  But when I’m most connected to God I sense that he is guiding me, and I can be counter-cultural, responsible to him, governed by love.  And he is a much better guide than myself or my perception of those around me.