A New Chapter, A New Book

Written on February 9, 2011
For some reason I feel a calling—an urge—to write. I’m no Pentecostal, but there’s this inexplicable tug on my heart to be doing this. I feel it so strongly that I don't exactly know what to do or what to write and I know that if I don't, I will be doing a disservice to myself, to God, or to others who will read this and be blessed, encouraged, or inspired in some way. I don't necessarily see myself as a writer (or assume that my words will be inspiring) and I find the task of writing very difficult. In high school I couldn't even write a two-page essay in my English classes despite the fact that I was in honors and AP (Advanced Placement). I even failed the AP English test twice. It seems appropriate here to mention that neither was I a reader and I still find reading (specifically reading comprehension) difficult. I can’t think of a single book that I read in jr. high or high school (thanks to Spark Notes) and I look back upon these years with deep regret. I missed out on much of my formative years of developing reading and writing skills that could have helped me in college and in the future.

I didn't have a good track record with writing but something changed after I graduated high school. During my 8-month journey throughout Africa and South America I wrote quite extensively and began reading as well. I spent hours upon hours writing "email updates" reporting on my seemingly exotic adventures in foreign lands, unimaginable to the audience I was writing to in suburban Southern California and overall I received positive feedback. In college I also had a difficult time writing and finding substance to write on. It wasn't really until my junior and senior years that I found writing to be more enjoyable. During these years I also found myself consumed in books and academic material on a host of topics—from anthropology to sociology, history to spirituality. I was able to write on topics that interest me, that get me fired up, that seem important to me and important in the current state of the world. Writing, for example, on the church as an alternative community to the status quo of today's ethnocentric, overly individualist and consumerist society, or on the global rise of Islam and the global Church's (non-violent) response to this inevitable phenomenon, or on St. Francis of Assisi's example as a devoted follower of Christ—in a society becoming increasingly secular, wealth-driven, and tangled in a war waged against Christendom (the West) and Islam (the East)—as he took on a life of poverty and set up camp in foreign lands to minister and serve those considered by his contemporaries as "The Enemy"; these were moments when I was able to find the passion and motivation to research and express my thoughts and ideas on paper. To finish my studies at Azusa Pacific University, I lived and studied in Morocco for approximately 7 months in 2009. While in Morocco I wrote considerably for both school and leisure. I started a blog (http://ryaninmorocco.blogspot.com), which served as a platform to articulate my experiences and share specific anecdotes with people who may never get to experience life in Morocco or in another Muslim context. I thoroughly enjoyed this style of writing and often found myself awake during the late hours of the night, or early hours in the morning "word-smithing" and reviewing some of my writing and blog posts. On several occasions I recall being completely absorbed in my writing that I lost track of time, only to be abruptly reminded by the sound of “Allahu Akbar” at the Fajr (the first of five daily prayers in Islam, taking place before sunrise) that it was almost the beginning of a new day. Needless to say, my experience with writing and conveying my experiences was a unique and refreshing time in which my skills started to develop and my passion for writing grew. I don't know if this writing now will parallel the style of my anecdotal writing while in Morocco—only God knows. I know nothing more than this unexplainable urge to write.

As I read this evening in John Hayes' book titled Sub-Merge: Living Deep in a Shallow World: Service, Justice and Contemplation Among the World's Poor, God is more concerned about the process than the product, especially in ministry. He is also more concerned about our obedience than with our performance, though the world says otherwise (Hayes 2005). That's why God created the world in 6 days (or months or years or stages or millennia). If he were only concerned about the product, he would have snapped his fingers or spoken "Let there be!" and it would have happened. But he cares about the process. In ministry, sometimes we care so much about the product or final result (the total number of people impacted or the amount of needs addressed) that we forget about the process in which God has us. Often we are blinded by the reality that He is along side of us every step of the way. Accordingly, I have no idea what the "product" of this writing will be (a blog, a note on facebook, an email, an article, a book, etc.) but I know that I need to be obedient and God will guide me.

“Change is the only constant” is a truism that accurately describes my life. Just when I start to get into a routine or get settled in a particular location, everything seems to flip upside down. The last few years, specifically, have been years of unprecedented change and uncertainty. I spend 3 of my 8 semesters in college “off campus” and always stayed on the move. More recently, all within the past 12 or 14 months, I found out that my dad had terminal cancer, I graduated from college, I moved across country (and into one of the most violent communities in the US), I lost my dad after his 9-month battle with the disease, I got a job and started a "career path", I broke up with my girlfriend of over 2 years (she broke up with me, but we both recognize that it was the right thing to do, just not the easiest thing to do), and I have been given more responsibility than I ever dreamed of at age 24. Many times throughout the past year, I have come to the end of my rope, which I guess is a good place to be if you're a follower of Jesus. The first Beatitude in the Gospel of Matthew (5:3) is Jesus' benediction to those who are "poor in spirit". The Greek is closer translated to “blessed are those who are at the end of their rope" or “…those who depend only on Him". Jesus’ promise is that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such people. It has been God, and God alone, who has been with me every step of the way. He is truly Emmanuel, God with us. And as I have been learning from my Calvinist brothers and sisters at Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church in Ft. Lauderdale, namely Pastor Tullian Tchividjian, God—in his complete sovereignty—orchestrates everything (past, present, and future) for our good and for His glory. This doesn't always mean easy (and rarely does), but it does mean good. Nothing happens in my life that is outside of God's control and that is not ultimately for my benefit (thanks Micah for your insight here). Therefore He alone deserves to be praised and it is in Him that I find refuge. As a Scottish theologian once said, "the ‘Sovereignty of God’ is the doctrine in which the weary saint rests his head at night". A "Big God Theology" (as some might call it) is comforting, even in the midst of a perceived living hell. Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil, for He is with us (Psalm 23:4). He both precedes and follows me. He places his hand of blessing on my head…I can never escape from His spirit; I can never get away from His presence (Psalm 139:5&7). And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for Him (Romans 8:28). Such promises in Scripture are so comforting and freeing. When we surrender our lives and our future to our creator, the sovereign Lord, we experience true freedom and comfort.

My job at OneHope has provided tremendous opportunities for growth—spiritually, emotionally, academically and vocationally. I mentioned above that I now live in one of the most violent communities in the US; a community in Pompano Beach, Florida, known as Avondale. Though my work did not require me to live in Avondale, I decided to move here as I felt God calling me to a life of incarnational ministry, especially because I would be involved with Avondale quite intimately because of OneHope's involvement here. When I speak of "incarnational ministry" I am speaking of a ministry, or mission, that envisions becoming like the people we are praying to reach, or serve (Hayes 2005, p.16). Pastor, writer, missionary, theologian, and learner Henri Nouwen described this ideal type of ministry during the several months he lived in the slums outside of Lima, Peru; ministry is simply “living with the people, as the people" (Nouwen, 1999 p. 101). In Scripture, the idea of incarnational ministry is scattered throughout the Old and New Testament. Middle Eastern scholar and theologian, Dr. Nabeel Jabbour, argues that during the 400 years of slavery in Egypt, there are no more than a few verses recorded in the Bible between Genesis 50 and Exodus 1 because the Israelites became ethnocentric and turned away from the charge to be a blessing to the entire world—the very words spoken to their patriarch Abraham in Genesis 12 (Jabbour 2008, p. 127-136). The Israelites were to be a blessing to the world because God had blessed them first. They were to be an outward-focused community, yet we have no account of God working in or through His people during those 400 years because the Israelites became inward-focused and lost sight of their purpose to bless the world around them, even in the midst of oppression. In contrast, the 70 years of Exile in Babylon is covered quite extensively in the Old Testament. God’s people were commanded to reflect the goodness, grace, and mercy of God during this time, even amongst their oppressors. It was while they were in Exile that they were commanded to “seek the peace and prosperity” of Babylon (the city of their enemies) and “build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce” (Jeremiah 29:5&7). The period of 400 years between Genesis 50 and Exodus 1 in which God did not speak (that we know of) because His people did not live among the foreign nations of the world to bless them is quite opposite from the 70 years when they were in Exile. Its seems that even in the Old Testament, God was showing us that He is most alive when His people are focused on blessing the community they are living in, even in the midst of oppression and poverty.

In the New Testament, John 1:14 says that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..." referring to Jesus as "the Word". The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians writes, "To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like the one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings" (I Corinthians 9:20-23). Incarnational ministry (specifically among the poor) is nothing new, though it is not all too common among Protestant circles. It has been modeled by spiritual heroes throughout history, from the Apostle Paul to St. Francis of Assisi to Mother Teresa to Henri Nouwen to Dorothy Day. I knew that God was calling me to live in Avondale, with (or among) the people of Avondale, as the people of Avondale, as parallel to Nouwen’s model of incarnational living (“living with… as…”). Although my job is of a different level than most people's jobs in Avondale and therefore my clothes are often a bit nicer, I am intentionally trying to live in a way that is closely resembled by others in the community. This approach to ministry does not produce quick results or products, but is demanding and yet rewarding during the journey. It is what Jesus did on earth ("the Word became flesh and dwelt among us") and it is what the church ought to be doing; not just within the comfort of suburban America, but among the outcast and the disenfranchised as well. After all, slum populations are growing faster around the globe than any other demographic sector (Lu Krieg 2004, p. 1-2) and are therefore one of biggest mission fields of the global Church.

There are sobering moments when living among the materially poor. Many evenings I come home from work tired and wanting to relax after the 8-hour workday. I begin to think how important it is that I rest, eat well, and get enough personal time so that I can go back to work the next day rejuvenated. My perfect, comfortable 9-5 work schedule becomes a point of contention when I see my next door neighbor, Jose (pseudonym), leave his apartment every night at 10pm. At 10 o'clock, the work “day” has just begun for Jose. Throughout his 7-day workweek, Jose spends approximately 75 hours cleaning restaurants from 10pm to 9am. When he arrives back at home after work, his two young boys are awake and demanding his time and attention. I don't know when Jose sleeps but I do know how quick I am to complain when I don't get an "adequate" night's sleep. Unfortunately, Jose's story is not that uncommon. One evening he tells me the story of how he spent several days and nights with his wife and children in the middle of the desert in Northern Mexico, crossing illegally into Texas. He moved to Florida 10 years ago from his hometown in Chiapas (southern province in Mexico) to escape the violence and social oppression for a better life. Since then, he’s been working restaurant jobs to earn enough income to support his family and their humble lifestyle. Currently he works every night "except for Christmas, Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving, New Years and 4th of July" he tells me. It is a sobering reminder that while I have the privilege of having the weekends off, Jose is working 7 days (nights) a week. Even more sobering, is that while I take for granted and enjoy eating nice meals out in restaurants, Jose and many others with similar stories are the ones cleaning those very restaurants at night. And it's not just the restaurant; it's the hotel that I stay at with the over-worked and under-paid housekeeping staff, or the building where I attend a conference with similar low-wage janitors and maintenance workers. These people are largely unnoticed in our society and are essentially invisible. These people are my neighbors in Avondale.

Today I had another experience that really shook me to my core. As I have been spending the past few days in Bradenton, Florida, with the outreach director of Bayside Community Church, I have spent some time surveying the specific community that Bayside is involved in ministering to. The community known as Pride Park is the poorest neighborhood in Bradenton, home to a mix of Hispanics and blacks. While driving around and talking with some of the members of the community, we stopped at a house that some members of the church have a relationship with. We knocked and waited for about 90 seconds. After no answer, we got back in the car and were about to pull away when the mother opened the door. I got back out of the car and greeted her in Spanish, but she quickly backed away from the door and called her son to come out and speak with me. Hector, as I will call him, was a quiet 17-year old. He was very reserved and hesitated to make eye contact with either the director or myself. I asked Hector several questions about the neighborhood and his experience living there. His answers were brief and he seemed to be a hard egg to crack. I later found out from the director that several months ago, INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) came to Hector's house and aggressively arrested Hector's father to be detained, leaving behind his wife and children (Hector’s brothers and sisters). From my understanding, the event was quite traumatizing and has had devastating impacts on the entire family. The house is now disillusioned by fear and hostility. The reality of the fear that grips Hector's family on a daily basis is something that I will probably never experience and once again (unfortunately), Hector's family’s situation is not all that uncommon in certain communities throughout the US and the rest of the world. Such experiences and situations demand a deeply-rooted relationship in a living God, the one who directs our steps and leads us on the path of righteousness. He is the one true God—creator of the universe—known in the person and life of Jesus Christ. He is full of wisdom and goodness and is searching the world to give wisdom and discernment to those who remain close to Him and His way. Ministering to a family such as Hector's or Jose's—or any other family in a community like Avondale—as a privileged white guy from the suburbs, is humanly impossible, yet Jesus makes it possible.