Festival of Light (i.e. Not the End of the World)

Friday night (i.e. the end of the world) I decided to celebrate December 21, 2012 by attending the Festival of Light in Southorn Stadium, Wan Chai.  It was coordinated by Authentic Worship (run by Pastor Laszlo Kincs), and leaders of other local churches.  I appreciated being gathered with churches from around Hong Kong for this.

This is a pic near the end (i.e. of the event--not of the world :)  Most of my friends at the gathering were in the huge choir behind the stage.

Dancers, and artists, and singers! Oh my!

The communion bread and cups were passed out near midnight.  When I drank from the cup, a little bit spilled onto my wrist.  I couldn't help but be reminded of the communion we share with our brothers and sisters who suffer for their faith.

A little reminder to me...both of what Christ suffered in my place, and of the persecution that many still suffer.

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Fast forward to this morning, when I finally got to visit EHOP (Ebenezer House of Prayer).  Not only do I love their location in the New Territories...it's also in sight of mainland China! It really is a beautiful area (sorry I forgot to take pictures--next time!)

The first hour was worship--Mandarin and Cantonese, and a little English. It really helps that I know a lot of the songs, and a lot of the Chinese characters.

The English translation is nice, but doesn't really help pronounce the tougher Chinese characters.

The second hour was prayer for various nations, and for the persecuted Church.  The focus of our prayers was Hebrews 13:1-3.

Let brotherly love continue...Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.

This weekend has been a time of remembering the persecuted Church.  And, Christmas is a prime time for officials in some nations to crack down on underground church activity.  Here is one concrete example of how people can "remember their chains". ("Leave a Christmas Place Setting for Pastor Saeed")

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Even if the idea of "the end of the world" is bogus, we are living for another age.  Let's keep waiting patiently for that age...and loving each other in the meantime.

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. (2 Cor 5:1)

Even more radical...

I want to share this email from a friend, whose radicality stirs me up.

Oh, how my heart remains so burdened for [country].  Lord willing and providing, I'll be back there.
My youngest daughter, Eva, said this week:  "Come on Dad!  Why don't we just sell all our junk and move [there] to smuggle Bibles?"
She gets it.
Jimmy (my 15-year-old) had a super mission trip to Guatemala.  He gets it.
The Underground Church we attended last Sunday all hugged and cried over my oldest daughter, Corrie.  They all got really attached when she spent 6 months there helping them start their Christian school.   Corrie gets it.
We plan to head back to Mississippi next month for pro-life ministry.  The one surgical abortuary left in the State is operating illegally, with protection from a federal judge.  We'll be meeting with the Governor Jan. 9, and are considering another Rescue (sit-in).   Yes, I'll be looking at 6 months in a federal penn.   My 16-year-old son, David, said, "Let's go do it, Dad."     He gets it, too.

God is doing great things all over the world...and your geographic location is not as important as where your heart is.  Don't forget: Wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom to live radically!

Radical

I just finished David Platt's book, Radical.  I have to admit, it was challenging.  I'm able to maintain a fairly comfortable status quo as long as I'm not confronted with the Gospel's contradiction of it.  This book, in that regard, was quite confrontational.

I won't give a review here (I'm sure you can find one at Amazon).  I'll just give an excerpt from the last couple pages.

As Elisabeth Elliot points out, not even dying a martyr's death is classified as extraordinary obedience when you are following a Savior who died on a cross.  Suddenly a martyr's death seems like normal obedience.
So what happens when radical obedience to Christ becomes the new normal?

Some missionary friends gave me this book, and told me how great it was.  Immediately afterwards, another friend saw it--someone whose life is given to spreading the Gospel and rescuing the oppressed in extraordinary ways.  His response to the book was, essentially, "Yeah, it's good!  But the title should be Average.  Or, Normal Christianity."

I'll end with this quote, which Elisabeth Elliot wrote about her husband, who was martyred by the Auca Indians he spent his life to reach:

He and the other men with whom he died were hailed as heroes, "martyrs."  I do not approve.  Nor would they have approved.
Is the distinction between living for Christ and dying for Him, after all, so great?  Is not the second the logical conclusion of the first?  Furthermore, to live for God is to die, "daily," as the apostle Paul put it.  It is to lose everything that we may gain Christ.

McDonald's in Hong Kong

I want to write a blog update, and, in looking over my recent blog posts, I think it's time for an entry that's a little more light-hearted.  Which means that I'm going to write about...McDonald's.

One of the 232 McDonald's in Hong Kong.

I think I've visited McDonald's more during the six months that I've spent in Hong Kong than in the previous six years.  Please understand.  I don't go every day, or even every week.  But, if I'm going to eat out, then I'm more likely to stop at McDonald's than at a Chinese restaurant.  Unlike in mainland China, where it's possible to buy a quick breakfast for under $1 USD, and a hearty supper for under $3 USD, Hong Kong's high food prices put McDonald's at the forefront of economic meals.

Also, I'm sad to say that Hong Kong cuisine is...really, just not healthy.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that grabbing a Big Mac may be less unhealthy than the standard fare at a given Hong Kong dai pai dong or other eatery.

So, partly due to economic necessity, and partly due to its being on the same nutritional playing field as other Hong Kong fast food, I've learned to let go of prejudices I had against McDonald's.  I can't point to one specific event, but as a whole, recent experiences have changed my attitude towards McDonald's.

Of course, the core menu still has all the artery-clogging items that have addicted people for decades.  But, the McCafe has done a lot to change their image. Not only can I eat food at McDonald's that doesn't make me feel gross afterwards; it also has cafe items that beat Starbucks' prices with a stick.  Grilled Chicken Salad for $26 HKD?  Score.  Latte and Roasted Vegetable Panini for $30 HKD?  Yes, please!  And then there's the espresso, which has been a life-saver on rough days.

Also, Hong Kong has a McDonald's approximately every two blocks (I'm not kidding).  So, even when there are better options around, there is something magnetic about McDonald's, and what McDonald's means: cheap, predictable, and fast.  You pay, you eat, you leave.  (And, unlike in the U.S., there are staff who throw away your trash for you.)

Another draw is that, even amidst Hong Kong lunch crowds (where, for lack of space, strangers commonly share the same table), there is usually a place to sit.  And, even more importantly, there's usually a restroom.

McDonald's--place of grace.

Clearly, Hong Kong has shifted my attitude towards McDonald's.  A few provisos are in order, though.

Is McDonald's good for us?
Nope. It's not. Not even the McCafe.  (But, maybe the Grilled Chicken Salad--this is the one fast food item I can order in Hong Kong that sort of makes me feel healthy.)

Would the world be better off without McDonald's?
Ummm...quite probably.

Okay, but, regardless...has McDonald's been a place where I've experienced goodness, happiness, and grace?
Why, yes! Emphatically, yes.

My "Face" for Human Trafficking

I was asked to share a story related to human trafficking.  Several years ago, I witnessed a young woman in the process of being kidnapped, and was unable to do anything to help her.

It's pretty intense, but I don't want her story to be forgotten.  Please leave a comment (or email me) if you want to share info about how human trafficking is being dealt with in your city.

These are the notes from the talk I prepared.

(Taken from www.tipshelp.com)

I think everyone has their own story about why they’re involved in this work.  Perhaps it’s a personal encounter with a trafficking victim, or a heart-rending story or documentary, or the terrifying statistics.  I was asked to share my story, as a reminder of why we’re doing this.

I’ve read the stories, and seen the data, and been to some talks about trafficking that goes on in different countries.  And you gasp, and you put your name down for the email list.  (And that’s important.  Public education and awareness is crucial in this effort.)  But what do you do?

What if trafficking hits close to home?  Maybe that will make a difference in how we respond.  But, maybe not.

In August, I moved to Sheung Shui, in the New Territories.  There are very few foreigners there—just Hong Kong residents and Chinese tourists. But occasionally, I see a very beautiful mainland Chinese or Korean or other Asian girl, who looks out of place here.  Some friends came by my place recently, and told me that my particular neighborhood is basically the center of prostitution for the New Territories area of Hong Kong.

I was shocked, and I honestly have felt a burden about this.  But, I don't see them on the street corners.  And I'm not interested in walking up into the places where they work.  So, even though it has hit close to home--it's on my street!--this isn't compelling enough for me to care enough to change things.  Because, I know that these places operate under legal loopholes.  And even when they do break the law, the local police refuse to acknowledge the problem.  Again...what do you do?

Something else had to happen to make this real for me.  Real enough to really care.  More than another story, I want to share with you my face for human trafficking.

(Taken from www.releaseglobal.org)

In 2005-06, I was living in Wenzhou, China, teaching English.  I lived there for nearly a year, and had a pretty positive experience of the area.  I felt safe, and sensed no danger walking anywhere, day or night.  Honestly, it's a rather nice, peaceful place.

Early in the spring of 2006, on a day off from work, I was going across the river to go downtown (I think to go to McDonald’s.)  I went to the ferry dock, paid for my ticket, and got on the speedboat ferry.

As I got in the boat, I heard yelling behind me.  A young woman, early to mid-twenties, was with two men.  They were half dragging, half carrying her to the speedboat.  She was yelling, and fighting, and trying to get away.  And everybody in the ferry and outside the ferry heard and saw everything that was happening.  And shortly after they walked onto the ferry, right beside me (the girl still fighting and screaming), the ferry took off.  I didn’t know enough Chinese to try to intervene or ask someone what was going on.  And the ferry crew members didn’t do anything.  I think they just told us to get off the deck and go inside and sit down.

I sat in the seat right in front of the two men.  This girl was still yelling, and being treated roughly by the men.  Nobody else was looking at them.  And I sat there, totally at a loss what to do. At this point, I still knew almost no Chinese.  So, I just stared at them, and asked (with one of the few Chinese phrases I knew), “你们在干什么？” (“What are you doing?!”) One man had his arm around her, with his hand over her mouth, and said that he was her boyfriend.  And I looked at the people sitting around me, and just said, “喂？你们好！喂？ Hey! Hello?! Please look here!”. I knew nobody wanted to help, and that what I was doing was annoying, and possibly dangerous. But I was desperate to point people's attention to the situation right behind their backs.  I figured that eventually, if I kept urging people to do something, somebody would have to do something. Right?

Nobody did anything.  Or said anything.  Or even looked.

Finally, while I was just sitting there, outraged at everyone's silence, the girl looked at me in the eyes.  Her face was less than two feet from mine, as she said, very loudly: “Help me! Call the police!!”

I tried to keep my cool, and took out my phone.  The kidnappers saw me dial “119”, which I thought was the generic emergency number.  In China, 119 is for the fire department.  The two men just laughed.  And the girl looked…I can’t describe it.  Nobody else cared enough to do anything.  And the one person who did care was ignorant about how to help.

We were in the boat for a full five minutes before arriving at the other side of the river.  As soon as we docked, the “boyfriend” pulled the girl out, and other passengers exited, while the stronger man stayed back, physically blocking me to keep me inside the boat.  He reached into his pocket, and it looked like he had some weapon.  Maybe it was a bluff, but maybe it was a gun or an electric prod.  There was no way to know.

I didn’t fight them.  And I didn’t see any police, or anybody else to ask for help.  But everybody saw the “boyfriend” carrying the screaming girl over his shoulder, as he walked through the crowd—all the way to the main street.  He hailed a taxi.  He put her into the taxi.  He waited for his accomplice to get in.  And the frightened cab driver drove away.

And I tried to figure out how to contact the police.  But, I didn’t see the taxi’s license plate number.  And, I thought that it was probably too late to do anything.  And that, they probably wouldn’t care, either.

(Taken from bawso.org.uk/home/Human-Trafficking)

Of course, I couldn’t do anything else that afternoon.  I just went back home, totally broken, and I wept.  And I re-played the scenario in my mind so many times…what could I have done differently, to make a difference, to stop these men from kidnapping this girl?  Should I have fought them? And why did no one do anything?  And I thought about why she was kidnapped…was she being trafficked as a mail-order bride, or a prostitute?  Would they maim her and turn her into a beggar?

And, I couldn’t get her face out of my memory.  Her big, horrified eyes, just 18 inches away, and her loud pleading: “Help me! Call the police!!”

(taken from a Public Service Announcement in Mexico and Central America, warning people of trafficking)

I don’t know why this happened to her. I know that it should not have happened.  And I can only hope and pray that she will be rescued, and that because of the loss she experienced, many others will be rescued.  And I know I don’t want to miss another opportunity to save innocent victims, just because I’m uninformed or unprepared.

So, if I ever need to remind myself why I’m engaging in the fight against human trafficking, for me, it’s easy.  I just remember her face, right in front of mine: her eyes, her pleading, and her screams.

As you engage in the fight against human trafficking, amidst all the legal research and discussion, don’t lose sight of the “face” of the people we want to rescue.

Blessing Bus Drivers

So, I woke up Saturday morning, and had to hurry to go meet some friends (a father and son), who needed help moving boxes.  I walked to the bus stop outside my apartment, and realized that I'd forgotten a key I needed.  So, I ran back, and got back to my bus just as it was pulling away.  I was desperate to get on this bus, because it comes only every half hour, and I couldn't be late. And the idea of paying $4 (USD) for a 10-minute taxi was unthinkable.

Here's what happened.  I walked up to the bus door, and asked the driver (through the closed door) to let me on.  He shooed me away.  I asked repeatedly, and desperately.  This went on for 30 seconds, until I was begging. On my knees.  (Okay, maybe I should have left that last part out. But like I said, I was desperate at the moment).

There was traffic in front of him, so he couldn't move forward.  But he still wouldn't let me on.  And he tried to look professional.  But in the end, he just laughed. A lot.

And he drove off, without me.

I finally stood up, dumbfounded that my desperate puppy-dog face hadn't moved the heart of the bus driver.  I went across the street and got a taxi (praise God he understood what I said in Cantonese, because not even I understood what I'd said in Cantonese).  I arrived at the place, met up with my friends earlier than planned, and went with them to their apartment.

And as soon as I arrived at their place, there was an old friend, whom I hadn't seen in 3 years.  I was ecstatic!  He is only in Hong Kong for a few days, and he's quite busy with work, but we got to catch up for a bit before he left for a business trip to Shenzhen.

And if I'd taken the bus, I don't know if I would have caught up with my friend (which was an incredibly encouraging encounter).

God bless bus drivers...all of them!

Shenzhen, Shopping, and "Sesh"

Living in north Hong Kong makes it very easy to visit mainland China.  Almost too easy.  There are loads of people who frequently cross the border (going through customs and all that entails) to the city of Shenzhen.  And most often it’s not for a weekend holiday, or even for a day trip.  It’s usually just to go shopping!  And it makes sense—things are quite a lot cheaper in mainland China.

So, I joined the fun.  Yesterday afternoon, I crossed the border, bought groceries, had dinner at a noodle shop, and got money out of an ATM (it’s $5USD to take it out of Hong Kong machines).  I like living in Hong Kong.  But, paying half price—or less—for everything, makes the mainland attractive.

On my way to find an ATM machine, I remembered another reason that people come across the border from Hong Kong.  I felt assaulted by the massage parlor hawkers on the sidewalk, who stand outside at night trying to get guys to come in for massages and sex.  For the space of a few blocks, it was every 10 meters that I was approached with: “You want massage?”, “Foot massage with beautiful girl?”, and even just “Sex?” (But they don't have the "x" sound in Chinese, so they actually say, "Sesh?")

Spread over a few blocks along the adjacent sidewalk, there are middle-aged women inviting men to come to their shops for a foot massage, etc.

I just wanted to find my ATM, but I think God wanted my heart to break again for these girls.  Some of them are kidnapped, and forced to work day and night.  Many choose to work here, with hopes of making a lot of money.  And this is a prime location for tourists who come from Hong Kong, looking for cheaper (and younger) girls.  Someone who has been ministering here for decades said, "When I'm on the metro in Hong Kong, I can tell which men are on their way to Shenzhen...you can see the lust in their eyes."

But now, back to the middle-aged women on the sidewalk, trying to lure men into their sex shops.  I imagine that these “sex-pushers” can’t stand their jobs.  I know that this is not what they dreamed of doing when they were little girls in school.  Anyway, I don’t want to get angry.  But I do want to see transformation in this region. Right before that trip to Shenzhen, I felt God was impressing upon me Psalm 43:3: “Send forth your light and your truth; let them lead me.”  I want to see light and truth uncover the darkness and deceit of the sex industry, and save the lives and souls of prostitutes and their clients, both in Shenzhen and in Hong Kong.

P.S. I didn’t realize until this week that my own neighborhood is the center for prostitution in northern Hong Kong.  Pray for this place…there’s such an oppressive darkness, but it’s mostly hidden in massage parlors and cautiously marked apartments.  All I know to do right now is to cry out until God transforms this place.

Home Group and Soup

Tuesday night, I went to a home group meeting for Kowloon City Vineyard (Jackie Pullinger’s first church plant).  I really like these people.  Maybe half are students and young professionals.  The other half are full-time live-in volunteers with the St. Stephen’s Society.  The male volunteers live with the brothers who are seeking to recover from drug addiction.  The female volunteers live with girls whose families have been broken by drugs.

I sat beside one of the new British volunteers from the girls’ house.  As I asked her about daily life at her house, I felt strongly that I should “ask her about soup”.  Even though I know that Jackie Pullinger’s church/ministry community is very accustomed to the gifts of knowledge and wisdom, etc, I still felt very awkward saying, “Hey, God wants me to ask you about soup!”

Anyway, we talked.  After a little while, I found out that the girls’ house had eaten a very plain, tasteless rice and noodle soup for breakfast. All I knew to tell her was to receive with gratitude everything God provides, and that what He provided would be good.

We had this conversation right before dinner was delivered.  Incidentally, the host had ordered an array of pizza, ribs, chicken, rice, dumplings…and soup.  It was good! :)

Later, we were sharing stories of healing and miraculous provision.  Besides the miracles of instantaneous deliverance from drug addiction (which is what St. Stephen's is most known for), they have also seen physical healings, creative miracles for missing body parts, and the multiplication of food to feed the poor.

Jackie Pullinger, founder of St. Stephen's Society, author of Chasing the Dragon

Even though I haven’t volunteered with them, I am really a fan of St. Stephen’s Society, and for the volunteers from all over the world who are helping to bring Christ’s freedom and peace to drug addicts in Hong Kong.  After the meeting, I talked with one girl from Ireland, who said, “I think that St. Stephen’s [and the church network associated with it] is grasping a part of God that not many others in the Body of Christ do.”  At age 20, Jackie Pullinger arrived in Hong Kong, with a clear call from God, with no home support or contacts, and with 100 Hong Kong dollars. Now, decades later, she runs a network of churches and of drug rehab centers all over this region.  The people who work with her live with an expectation of healings, miraculous provision, and hearing directions from the Holy Spirit as a daily part of life.  Praise God for these people!

And, fyi, they can always use volunteers: http://www.ststephenssociety.com.

Sweet Potatoes and Beggars

I was in Shenzhen earlier this week, and upon exiting a taxi, and before I could get out, a beggar had her hands inside the taxi, in my face, asking for money.

I got out of the taxi, and handed her a packaged pastry I'd bought at a 7-11, pre-planning for occasions like this.  But, she handed it back to me.  Given all the weird preservatives in those things, that was probably smart of her!

I also saw a lady selling steamed sweet potatoes near the border.  These things are great!

You'll notice that her giant heating container is on the back of a bike.  Not the most convenient way to travel, but when the police come to shoo away sidewalk vendors, they have to be able to change business locations fast!

I walked towards the border, and was approached by another beggar.  She asked me for my sweet potato. I know that beggars have to meet a certain quota of money, so that they can keep their jobs (and probably to keep from being beaten).  So they're usually not interested in food.  Anyway, I think this is the first time a Chinese beggar has asked me for food!  And, I was much happier giving her a sweet potato than a coin.

I still don't know how to respond to beggars, except to pray that God will hear the cries of the poor, and bring conversion of heart to the managers of the begging syndicate in Shenzhen.

Giving Bread

I really like bread.  A lot.  And today, I found an international store (whose name, it so happens, is International).  They had organic whole wheat flour...and it's cheaper than at Wal-Mart in the States.  I was  happily shocked, as my mind raced forward to the glorious times of bread-baking that I hope become part of my life in Hong Kong.

Now, I just need an oven.

Earlier this week, I walked by another grocery store, and saw a staff member throwing out expired food...including a grocery bag full of perfectly good bread.  Again, I really like bread.  So much, in fact, that whenever I'm walking home from the metro, I often walk into that particular store, just to look for sales on their bread.  (A bit obsessive, possibly, but hey--they have really good bread!)

That trash bag of bread in the dumpster bothered me.  And I started thinking of the homeless in Hong Kong.  Shouldn't they have--if nothing else--at least this bread?

On Wednesday, a friend told me about Giving Bread.  Giving Bread is an organization that is, currently, giving bread.  I appreciate their work (not to mention their pithily titled mission), and I look forward to volunteering with them.

I Will Praise You Before Other "gods"

Hong Kong has idols everywhere...more than I've seen anywhere in China. You can smell the incense outside of bakeries, noodle stands, money exchange shops, throughout the hallways of apartment buildings (including mine)...you'll even occasionally see loads of incense burning on a crowded street.  People here really want the gods' attention!

My first night in Hong Kong, I stayed in Mong Kok, at a hostel whose lobby was lit up with a bright red lamp burning before an idol (like so many places are).  The only difference with the place I'm staying in right now is that, it's not just dedicated to one god.  There are many idols here...the place is packed!

David was surrounded by nations who worshiped false gods.  To me, Psalm 138:1 has a sense of gloating, as if David wanted to say, "I will sing to You before the other gods...to magnify You, because You're awesome, and to irritate them, because they're dumb...(and, incidentally, I hope to destroy them all)."

So, even in a building full of idols...I'll sing.

Addendum: I wanted to share some historical notes/reflections.  I imagine that when David wrote Psalm 138, he was probably in the Tabernacle, which he had built to minister to the Lord's presence, especially through song.  The Lord said in Amos 9:11-12 that this tabernacle (which no longer exists) would eventually be the key to bringing many nations under His kingship.  What I get out of these verses is that, the more that God's people minister to His presence through song, the more nations we will see come to Christ.

¹¹ “In that day

“I will restore David’s fallen shelter —
    I will repair its broken walls
    and restore its ruins —
    and will rebuild it as it used to be, 
¹² so that they may possess the remnant of Edom 
    and all the nations that bear my name,”
declares the Lord, who will do these things.

Earthquakes and Dancing

In late August last year, I was in the Prayer Room at the Fredericksburg Prayer Furnace.  During an intercession set one afternoon, we were praying for the new interns who were about to start the fall internship (the same program I did Spring 2011).  I can’t explain why, but I had been carrying these young people in prayer, and whenever I thought of them, I felt a spirit of prayer that made me groan and cry out in intercession.  I didn't even know them, but I knew that something really important was going to happen with that particular group.

So, while we were praying for this incoming intern class, I lay prostrate on the floor, praying fervently.  Others were praying on the microphone.  Then, God whispered to me (in my "mind's ear") to get up and start dancing.

You know how it is: ”Wait, what?  Is this really God?”

As far as I could tell, it was.

“Dance? Really?”

The Spirit was speaking gently, but somehow urgently.

So, finally, I stood up, and walked to the back of the room, where nobody would really notice.  I don't really know how to dance, so I just started stomping around.

And I just kept jumping.  And as others prayed,  I was overwhelmed by feelings both of joy and…well, desperation.  I was filled with great hope for this particular group of young people.  But at the same time, I felt desperate for God’s blessings over them, for all they would experience in their lives.  Perhaps it was a little bit of what God felt for them, of the desire God had to fulfill His plans for them.

So, I was jumping, and shouting, and groaning, and rejoicing...all at the same time.  And we were praying for people we didn't really know.

And then there was an earthquake, and everything started shaking.  The lights rocked back and forth, the musicians stopped, and everyone looked around, wondering what was going on.

And me?  I kept stomping around, dancing awkwardly as the earth rocked back and forth like a rowboat under my feet.

And as the earth shook, my only thought was, “Of course the earth is shaking…all creation is crying out for the sons of God to be revealed (Romans 8:18-21).  And this isn’t the last time it’s going to shake (Haggai 2:6).”

It was a pretty intense experience.  And at 5.8, it was pretty intense for a lot of people.  "It is estimated that approximately one-third of the U.S. population could have felt the quake, more than any earthquake in U.S. history." (Wikipedia, 2011 Virginia Earthquake)

But while it was happening, the only response that felt appropriate was to dance, with hands lifted, and to pray for mercy.

I think that this generation—and in a special way, that group of young people—will see things that nobody in history has ever seen before.  It will be glorious!

Looking back at what happened that afternoon, I'm reminded to continue crying out on behalf of this generation.  Looking forward, to the end of this age, I'm reminded that everything will be shaken, and we will be welcoming Him with a loud cry: “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Rev 22:17)

Xinjiang

This is the best blog that exists for Xinjiang, China's northwesternmost province.

I am...

http://www.farwestchina.com/

...stoked.

How Many Is Too Many?

I was talking with a Japanese friend a few nights ago.

We were praying about some problems he was having at his church.  He's taken on some leadership roles at his church.  As we prayed, I saw some things in the spirit, and developed a sense that a big part of the problem was that there were many people who had grown up worshiping other gods, and maybe still hadn't broken ties with their family gods.  And then it came out...

He hadn't quite broken those ties, either.  And he's in a leadership position. Oops!

I know that in the Japanese culture, it's very difficult to convert to Christianity, and it took him a few years to finally make the decision.  Honestly, if he hadn't been living far away from his family, it might never have happened at all.  But, he finally told me that he has just never been able to bring himself to tell his family back in Japan about his conversion.

And because they don't know he's a Christian, it would just be too awkward not to take part in worshiping the family idols in their house.  So,he said that when he goes home each year, he goes through the motions of bowing before the family gods.

"But," he made clear, "I don't worship them in my heart."

The conversation continued for a while.  He knows what he has to do...he's just not ready to do it.

Of course, this whole conversation convicted me, too.  My friend has a pretty clear situation of plain, old-fashioned idolatry.   You bow your head and offer the incense, or else you face alienation from family and friends.  It's that simple.

How much different is my situation, though?  There are so many times when I've avoided letting people know about my devotion to Christ, because "They just wouldn't understand."

I can't keep nodding my head in agreement with idols, even if I don't worship them in my heart...so, I finally decided to start telling people why I'm not interested in getting drunk, sleeping around, etc. "我是基督教。”  "I'm a Christian."

It's that simple.

Toucan Pray

I want to share a number of experiences I had last year at the Fredericksburg Prayer Furnace.  Since most of my friends reading this are Catholic, I just thought I might share this story first.

I was praying with someone last summer, who is a young Protestant minister.  We were in his living room, and discussing divorce and re-marriage.  I was arguing that re-marriage is wrong, and he was interpreting Scripture otherwise, especially in light of friends of his who were re-married, and whom he sees as model Christians.

We argued for some time, and I got kind of ticked--divorce is an issue I feel very strongly about.  He had to go, but we prayed together before we parted.  As we prayed, I closed my eyes, and I started to see a toucan.  The toucan was standing, with its eyes closed, gently and sweetly playing a violin.  I knew that the music it was playing was beautiful, even though I couldn't hear it.

I told my friend what I was seeing.  (I didn't know what the toucan represented, but I had a sense that God was showing me this to gently rebuke me for being angry.  So, I didn't want to share what I saw, but I felt that I needed to.)

We finished praying, and he started upstairs.  But then he laughed, turned around and said, "Hey Joseph!  'One can chase a thousand, but two can put ten thousand to flight...' (Deuteronomy 32:30)"

(Random, I know, but I successfully googled "toucan playing violin".)

So...Christians disagree about some things.  Some important things.  Sometimes, really important things.  But if we can pray together, we can offer something beautiful to God--a harmony that results in overcoming the awkward tension of our divisions.  This way, we can actually fight together, against our real enemy.

Not that our divisions are totally resolved that way.  But, we'll be one heck of a lot closer.  Anyway, if we have to argue, then fine, let's argue.  But, maybe we could let the arguments that we have together be between the prayer meetings that we have together?

Note of Interest

So...

03/20/2012

Interest Earned

$0.01

$20.01

...is a savings account worth it?

"I Have Called You Friends"

The previous evening (Wednesday, Feb 22), I had been praying with someone at a prayer meeting.  This guy was just visiting, and we met while we were praying together.  He spoke perfect English, with no accent. (I later found out He'd done his undergrad and grad studies at Harvard.)  Anyway, while we were praying, he started telling me that God really wanted to make it clear to me that He considers me a friend.  He said that I needed to believe that.

Then, the other prophetic words He shared were pretty specific.  So specific, and so perfect, that they left me sobbing and laughing for several minutes.  Eventually, it was so painful I could hardly breathe.  God went out of His way to make sure I understood!

And maybe He did the same with the apostles, when He said, "I have called you friends."  He waited until His last conversation with them before the cross, to make sure they knew that this was really important.

Jesus wants everyone to come into His kingdom, and to reign over the entire created order.  And, He is the only man who ever lived who is worthy to do that.

But, I can't forget that He's not interested only in obedience.  He wants people who want to spend time with Him for His own sake, and who actually, really care about the things that He cares about.  Ultimately, He wants friends.

Friends and Facemasks

I had a really amazing time in Hong Kong.  I sensed God speaking to me in different ways.  And, happily, one of the ways He spoke, was a joke.

Here's part of an email that I sent to a friend in North Carolina, which summarizes what happened on Thursday, February 23.

"A lot has happened in the past day.  And the theme of all of it was that God considers me His friend.  So, here's one story that I feel confirms that reality.  I'm sharing this one since it's related to you.

I was crossing the Victoria Harbour, right by the YMCA hostel where I stayed all week.  I was about to get on the ferry to go pick up my visa on Hong Kong Island.  I did a double-take, because I saw a vending machine for face masks.

It seemed like such a random thing to have face masks in a vending machine, I started laughing out loud.  I know it's crowded here, and pollution can be a problem, so I understand why some people will wear face masks. But...a vending machine?  For some reason, I thought of buying one for you, just because I thought you would get a kick out of it, too.

But then, I hesitated, thinking it would be a waste of time and money.  Actually, I started to feel really condemned for even thinking about spending money on something so frivolous.  But I continued to pray, and finally, I felt okay about it.   I could see an expression on Christ's face, as though He thought it would be funny, too.  I felt/saw that maybe God can be joyful, "and even jovial," like you said.

Honestly, it was a strange feeling.  I always guilty about spending money, so I was actually surprised that I felt at peace about doing something so "wasteful".

Anyway, I inserted the coin.  And...the coin came back.  But, a face mask fell out.

I tried inserting my coin again.  And...the coin came back, again.  And, another face mask fell out.

Finally, I saw that a coin was stuck inside, and it wouldn't let my coin go in.  So, I pushed against that coin with my coin, and another face mask fell out.  I probably would have kept going, except that a security guard started looking at me, so I got on the ferry.

Anyway, I was thinking, "That was so weird! Why did that just happen, God?"  And it came to me.  I thought it would be funny to give my friend one of those goofy face masks from Hong Kong.  Apparently, Jesus thought it would be funny to give one to His friend, too.

He copied my idea!

Friends do that."

Starbucks Portrait

I was sitting down at Starbucks on Hengshan Lu, working on my laptop.  A guy randomly invites me over to his table and shows me this:

I don't know...I think I look a couple decades younger in real life.

It was a little bit unnerving to know that I was being watched that closely...but he finally offered it for 20 yuan ($3USD), so it was hard to say no.

Hong Kong Double-Decker Bus

Wow, Hong Kong was a trip!

More later...

Renewing Visas in Shanghai

I just renewed my visa in Shanghai today, for the second time.

Piece of cake, right?