Sunday, September 6, 2009

A Final Word... (Part 2)



Well... I fell off a ladder Thursday morning. It was pretty exciting, in a negative sort of way. My awesome boss took me to the doctor to get mended - he was the measure of cool under pressure, my boss that is, not the doctor. The doctor asked twice if I was sure I wasn't in a motorcycle accident, as though those are two things one might confuse. "Let's see... I think I fell off a ladder, but it could have been a motorcycle accident. I'm just not sure." Basically, a fence broke my fall but scraped all the skin off the front of my right leg. Since walking hurts, I've got lots of time to sit and do nothing, and since it's keeping me up this early in the morning I decided to finish Part 2 of this note.

I'll be less long-winded than in the last one, at least I hope so. Let's see...I left off having covered Cambodia in general, the educational system, and the fact that I had little to do in the first couple months. I promised elephants and soldiers and such, but I was just kidding. Here's more of the story...

I mentioned that I'm a Christian and want spiritual wholeness for Cambodians beyond just economic and social prosperity. I'll clarify that a little more. I wanted and continue to want Cambodians to know Jesus, not because it's the American thing to do or because I think they'll be better people if they're more like me. Jesus is just as much theirs as He is mine. He was Asian after all. And that's the great thing about the gospel - God threw open the doors to all nations in His creation. He's calling His creation back to what we were meant to be so we can be fully human again, fully free to live and love and be at one with nature and each other and the One who created us. Everywhere I've been on the planet I get a sense that different people of different backgrounds and cultures and social statuses are all longing in one way or another for things to be better. There's a general sense among all people that things aren't the way they should really be. "The tension is here, between who you are and who you could be, between how it is and how it should be," to quote the song.

Nowhere is this more evident than in a country like Cambodia where things have been devastated by violence and greed. When you share the good news of Jesus in a place like Cambodia, you don't even have to really explain much. It's kind of like 1 Corinthians chapter one that speaks of "the foolishness of the message." Just when you think that you have to break out the metaphysical arguments for the existence of God, you soon realize that people are responding joyfully to the simple news that there is a God who created them and loves them, and that His Son Jesus came to make things right. One woman in Cambodia said once, "I always knew there had to be a God like that. I've been waiting to find out about Him." Now that's good news.

I think we in America don't realize what it is to be spiritually free. It's all sort of intellectual for us. In Cambodia freedom through Christ means freedom from the endless struggle to please spirits who might curse you and your family, freedom from the intricate calendars of Chinese mysticism, freedom from the daily grind of trying to be better than you are so that you might have a better shot in the next life. Also, for many on the lowest rung of the economic ladder it means freedom from complete hopelessness and despair.

My boss at the university is a good example of some of this. He was so wrapped up in the Chinese zodiac, combined with duties to the Buddhist temple and to his dead ancestors. In conversation it emerged from time to time that he planned and structured everything in his life around the zodiac and the perceived luck it would bring. He used to tell me that if he respected these things enough then his dreams for a private business would come true. While I was there he got engaged and then married, but all the ceremonies were structured around the lunar calendar down to the day. His wife's birth year was what led him to her, and he also choses his friends accordingly. In fact, he wouldn't do anything with me outside of work until he learned that my birth year was favorable for a "lucky friendship." One day he randomly asked what year I was born. "1983..." I replied. He just nodded and continued on at his desk. The next day he came up to my desk and said, "Oh, Bryant! I have some good news. You told me about your year of birth. So I checked to make sure, and we can have a lucky relationship." It was another one of those "smile and nod" moments. I mean, seriously, what do you say??? He would fret to no end if he missed a visit to the temple, or if he got sick he would tell me he had to pay more respect to his ancestors. I used to listen politely and respectfully, but sorrowfully. Such bondage... He would ask me, "Do you follow the stars? You know, Bryant, they have a real influence on our lives." I could only say I didn't follow them but they did tell me a lot about God and how big He is to have created all of them. We were respectful of each other and developed a great friendship. In emails he still calls me his "best partner", which I think is Cambodian English for "best coworker." I love him a great deal and want so much more freedom for him and his wife and their new baby that's on the way - the pregnancy, he told me, was scheduled for a specific month for the best possible luck.

What's sad to see is that so many well-intentioned Christians have gone to countries like Cambodia and replaced one sort of bondage for another in the name of Christ. So many people hear the gospel and rejoice at the good news of freedom and abundant life - imagine a dehydrated man lost in the desert who comes across a well, if you're the type that likes metaphors. Many American Christians come in, though, and say, "Well, in order to really be a Christian you're gonna have to straighten up and build a church building and sing songs like this and behave like x, y & z, and if you don't then you just aren't good enough for Jesus." Now, of course they don't really say it like that, but for all practical purposes they do. I've cringed to see missionaries, as if from Mt. Sinai, basically policing poor Cambodian Christians who want to follow Jesus because they know He loves them, but they just can't seem to "get it right." What was that part about removing the two-by-four in your own eye before you pick at the splinter in your neighbor's eye??? Man, that's a hard lesson. Shame on us for binding the people of Cambodia with a law of our own making.

Of course that's only a small number among a greater number of Christians who really want to serve Cambodia. And I mention it only to tell by contrast my view of what it means to share Christ in Cambodia. The last time I checked, God is perfectly capable of convicting people of their sin without my help, and Lord knows I've got enough of my own to occupy my thoughts. You do too. And it's really refreshing and freeing to know we can leave that up to Him, isn't it?

I think about what the angels told the shepherds at the birth of Christ, "Glory to God in the highest; peace on Earth and good will towards all men." Why? The Prince of Peace was born. The apostles - Christ's commissioned missionaries - often addressed letters with salutations of grace and peace. It's the gospel. Grace - goodness - has come to you. Be at peace. Be at peace with God and with yourself and your neighbor. It may not mean much to us even though it should, but it certainly does to those in a war-torn country, to those who live in spiritual fear, and political paranoia and the despair of poverty.

I don't think I ever really understood the power of the gospel until I saw those it had changed in Cambodia. One of my students was a pastor's son. There were a handful of Christian students at the university, and this particular guy was the most outspoken of the bunch. He took a liking to me, and I grew pretty fond of him. He's a good guy. One time I went with him to visit his home village a couple hours north of the capital where we our university is. His pastor father began talking to me about his personal story, and once again, as so many times before, I found myself humbled and speechless. This man who is now a leader in his community, in and outside of the church, was once a Khmer rouge soldier. I've never seen a look on a man's face quite this the one he wore as he told me in careful generalities of the things he did. "Even before I knew about God, I knew it was horrible to do these things. I had no peace. But when I heard about Jesus I knew God could forgive me."

In Cambodians over the age of 35 you have two groups: Those who were soldiers in the Khmer Rouge regime and those whose families died at the hands of the regime. Often those two even overlap, and, horribly enough, there are those responsible for the deaths of family members and friends. There's so much pent-up hatred and hurt, yet the peace of Christ has made forgiveness possible, reminiscent of the testimonies of Corrie ten Boom, Elizabeth Elliot, and Steve Saint. In a remarkable story of the gospel's power for reconciliation, a former political prisoner of the Khmer Rouge came to know Christ and made it his mission to reach his former captors. Just a handful of years ago he braved the last stronghold of the Khmer Rough in Cambodia's mountainous Northwest border with Thailand. He was able to share the same message of peace and goodwill with the same ones responsible for tens of thousands of deaths. They themselves report receiving such good news with a certain sense of relief, and today that area of the nation is starting to see a peace it hasn't known in decades. Over 70% of the Christians in churches in that particular corner are ex Khmer Rouge.

Beyond redemption from political violence, many Cambodian Christians today are displaying the peace of Christ in the midst of personal persecution. One story that still brings tears to my eyes is about a pastor living in a community that was staunchly opposed to Christianity. Usually, Cambodian Christians can meet without much societal rejection. Some communities, however, view Christianity as a rejection of traditional practices. Going back to the spirit worship I mentioned earlier, this perceived rejection would mean that the spirits of that community would be angered by those Christians who don't make the necessary offerings at temple and in spirit houses. Sometimes this leads to violence towards followers of Christ. This particular pastor was reaching out with a spiritual message but was also promoting community development. A local group of men saw this as a challenge to their power in that community and decided to harass the pastor and his family. He was beaten in front of his wife several times, their house was set on fire once, and in the height of the violence, while his young son was walking home from school, they buried a meat cleaver in his back. What would you do? What would I do? I can't really say, if I'm honest. This man continued to carry the same message of peace to those men and the rest of the community, and the gospel spread with great power. We know Jesus said, "Love your enemies. Bless those who curse you." It's rather shocking to realize He meant it.

The stories like that pile up. One more before I end this... I mentioned working with a group called Kone Kmeng. Every six months or so, Kone Kmeng sponsors an event they call "Children's Prayer Movement." I've always been prone to distrust anything with the word "movement" in the title, but the Spirit chastised me with a quick remembrance of that little story in the Bible where Jesus ignores the religious folks around him so some little children can come see Him. Imagine a rough, burly Middle Eastern carpenter with a thick beard sitting on the grass playing with kids. Then he turns to the religious folks and says, "You better be more like them if you want in the kingdom." Another time in the middle of another religious debate about who's the most religious Jesus put a child in the middle of the group and said, "You want in the kingdom you gotta be like this child, and if you keep a child away from me you'd be better off dead." So in light of the importance Jesus placed on children, Kone Kmeng decided it would be a great idea to get children together to pray. I'm really ashamed to admit I was a bit skeptical at first...really ashamed, actually. It turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had. The adults organize the boring details like food and music and what not, but the children are left to lead through personal stories about God's grace in their life, and in small groups on big sheets of paper they would write down things they wanted to pray about. Here's a brief sample and I'll include a picture at the end of this note:

1. Please let my family know about You.
2. I need air in my bicycle tire.
3. Please stop my father and mother from drinking alcohol.
4. Please give me school supplies.
5. Please give my village a school.
6. Help my friend's father stop drinking alcohol.
7. Please make me smart in school.
8. Please help me remember Bible verses.

Jesus said to humble ourselves like children, and, well, there it is. At the end of this time of writing, the children prayed in groups and then prayed over the adults in the group. We in turn had a chance to pray for them. During this last time, a little girl broke out in violent sobs. She was crying out to Jesus to make her father stop drinking. Apparently it was leading to a lot of violence in her family. Then, like nothing I've seen in the church here in America, the other little girls surrounded her and hugged her and prayed with her while the rest of us sang some hymns. I'm not sure what others were thinking, but I was praying for a heart that could be moved like this more often.

I'll be writing some more stories later. In the meantime, if you think about it during some downtime, please pray for these things I've mentioned here, for the continued reconciliation in Cambodia and for continued strength for those there proclaiming peace.


Bryant

Thursday, September 3, 2009

A Final Word... (Part 1)


Dear friends and family, I want to write and thank everyone who walked with me through the entire process of serving in Cambodia. Well, even if you jumped into the process towards the end :-) , you have my deepest gratitude. It's almost surreal to look back and take in what transpired in my life from beginning to end, but one thing is certain - I couldn't have made it without all of you, whether by monetary support or prayer or letters of encouragement or care packages or just the daily Facebook updates and discourse that made some of the lonely evenings (when I actually had internet) a little more bearable. For all of this, thank you so much. Special gratitude also goes out to my church family at Grace Community. Y'all are the bomb dot com, no lie! This is "The Final Word..." because I wanted to kind of sum up the year as I see it now, looking back. At this point I've been back in the U.S. for a solid month, and I've finally had time to sort of "calm down" and collect my thoughts in a meaningful way that, hopefully, makes sense to others. It's so, so difficult while on the field to communicate all the little daily things that, at the time, are so meaningful. One thing turns into another and another and soon it's hard to remember what was what, but hindsight, I've learned, can provide a little clarity. So, with that in mind, here are the most memorable points; please enjoy any silliness for what it is, and claim the acts of service as your own because you were half of the equation. I went to Cambodia because of a burden the Lord put on my heart for that country years and years ago. People always ask, "Why Cambodia?" But to me that's like asking someone, "Why's your favorite color blue???" I dunno... I grew up around Cambodians, went to school and church with them, and cried when I heard their stories of exodus from a beautiful homeland torn apart by communism. I was genuinely humbled to be around them, and, finally, was invited to visit their country. The Var family, one of my favorite families outside of my own, took me in and shared their culture and time and experiences with me. Their story is a remarkable one that never ceases to amaze me when I think about it. So through them Cambodia entered my life, and I became all the better for it. And after my first visit I knew this place had stolen a part of my heart. The Cambodian people are truly some of the best in the world. Obviously I'm biased, but you can ask any person that visits - relief worker or tourist alike - and you'll hear the same thing. Every year people travel there and get hooked and find ways to stay or come back. In the midst of such an ancient culture that values family and hospitality and hard work, it boggles the mind how it could be destroyed by such violent ideology as happened in the Seventies. A quick history lesson will reveal the hand America played in that tragedy, both through action and inaction, and politics and patriotism aside I felt a sense of personal responsibility as an American to at least do something to help restore some of what was lost. As a Christian, I really desire to see Cambodia's economic recovery and educational development coupled with spiritual freedom and wholeness. The only way to really do something about any of this is to go, so I went. The first couple months were hard. Leaving family and friends wasn't as easy as I wanted it to be. The first month away I spent in Hanoi doing training, and then the first two months in Cambodia were structureless because, as we found out upon arrival, university wasn't taking in until November. That made transition so much harder. I changed houses twice before settling in on campus. Not a huge deal... But adjusting to another culture seems to magnify every little stress in life. The hardest part was trying to find some way to be useful other than just feeding the mosquitoes. Remarkably enough, the door opened for me to teach some Spanish classes at an after-school club. It was...well...it was weird...but fun. During that transition time I also connected with a Christian relief group - Kone Kmeng - that really blessed with me opportunities for service that continued throughout the year. They basically work through local churches in communities that have the most need. Specifically they try to intervene in the lives of children who are at risk of poverty, neglect, and abuse. The sex trade is rampant in this part of the world. Cambodia remains one of sixteen countries blacklisted by the US and other nations for sex trafficking. Kone Kmeng has stepped in on a grass-roots level to help solve this social problem by equipping and educating Christian communities around Cambodia. I was blessed to be a part of their work through newsletter writing and some other media projects. Now that I'm back here in the States I'm still able to help and hope to do so in greater ways in the future. Once university took in, I and my teammates moved on campus and began our teaching. I'm going to make a harsh statement here but I'll explain it - working in the Cambodian educational system is like being center act in a three-ring circus. To begin with, many of our students hailed from very rural corners of the nation and as such had never seen a foreigner. Combine this with the fact that there were only three non-Asians, i.e. us, on campus, and it made for very long walks through gauntlets of stares and hushed tones every day....literally until the last day I was there. My teammate Ben and I used to speculate as to what they might be thinking, and we discussed strategies for dealing with our newfound celebrity. I think we were both a little relieved to discover each of us felt equally ridiculous. "Do we smile? Do we return the stares? Do we just keep our heads down?" I tried all three, sometimes in combination. Sometimes for a diversion I would do weird things like smile at every third stare, and my favorite way to walk the gauntlet was to imagine little thought bubbles with what they might be thinking - "Hey, get a load of this guy!" The best was when I'd see a group staring at me and then one of them would turn to the others, followed by muffled laughter. When I say circus act, I mean it. As for the administration, schedules are more like suggestions, assemblies are an excuse for The Powers That Be to blow hot air about academic excellence and border conflicts to the north, and mandatory forms in three languages turn out to be completely unnecessary once you've taken two hours to fill them out. As for the students, well... Let's just say attendance is more like a hobby for most (I mean, why go to class when you can play soccer???) What we call "cheating" Cambodian students call "helping", and boy do they like helping each other. There was always that five percent that seemed to care about at least some of the things we said... They made it worthwhile. I can probably sum up the educational system with these two stories: One day I was complaining to my Cambodian boss about all the cheating. He reassured me that this must not be allowed. "Take their test away if they cheat!" he exclaimed. So...well...I did. The student-victim was warned......five times.....didn't listen......I took the test. He threw his bookbag out the window and stormed out in a rant. The rest of the students looked put off. I was pleased. Then I realized they were stunned with me. It was like, "Hey! White guy! We're trying to take a test here!" When I relayed these happenings to my boss, he looked sad and started shaking his head. "Oh Bryant," he said. "We musn't take their test but only inform them that we will take it." Did I miss something? "But you said to take the test..." "Yes, but we have to understand their situation. Sometimes they cannot know all the answers because it is so difficult for them. So we just warn them." Moments like this...well... I didn't know what to say then and I still don't. Another Moment of Excellence in Cambodian academics occurred around the time of Cambodian New Year. It's a three-day holiday in April. Keep in mind we already had a holiday for January 1st, and then another for Chinese New Year. Now with the Cambodian New Year, it's no holds barred. Ok, so there's three days on the calendar. The school was supposed to take ten days off, and I kept asking my boss, "When will we break for the holiday?" His reply: "Oh Bryant, maybe a week or two before the new year. I don't know. We have to see when the students will stop coming." Sure. Whatever. "So when will we start classes again?" A logical question. "Oh Bryant, maybe it will be a long time before they return to school." Hmmmm.... "Ok, so when do you think?" I felt pushy. "No one is exactly sure, but I will inform you, ok?" Turns out we had the entire month off. My brief journey in Cambodian academics saw all sorts of weirdness from questions about 50 Cent lyrics to classes not showing up because of rain (it rains every day for half the year) to being told I was the most beautiful teacher a student ever had (he was particularly enthralled) to playing American football in class (you gotta get creative sometimes). But I said I would explain my statement, and here it goes: Despite the circus-like conditions, you have to consider that these folks had everything, and I mean everything, taken from them just thirty years ago. All educational institutions were emptied or destroyed, the educated were executed in the hundreds of thousands (today the highest number of the best-education Cambodians live in either the US, Australia, or France), eighty percent of the population was relocated, families separated, forced labor, communist indoctrination... Paranoia and fear dominated the psyche of the people for years. When it was over, a quarter of the population was dead, and the rest were left to make something of the rubble. Things don't change over night. In America we can't imagine that sort of nightmare. Not that we remember it, but even our own revolution, bloody though it was, was fought on the battlefield while our social infrastructure and ideals and values remained, strengthened and even defined by the fight. For the last century we've fought wars only on foreign soil, and today we have no idea...haven't got a clue what it's like to have our way of life seriously threatened much less destroyed. So if things were a circus over there, if they got a little weird, I could at least see the Grace in there even being a university at all. Rebuilding takes time. Ok folks. If you've persevered through this, God bless you. I'll wrap up the rest of the year with specifics in part 2. I think I've adequately set the stage for the rest of the story at any rate. What's next? Elephants, soldiers, drunken tourists... Stay tuned. Grace and peace, Bryant