How Do You Celebrate Buddha's Birthday?

The 21st of May is a national holiday in Korea. 

It is the Buddha's birthday. 

So, how do you celebrate? 

The answer I suggested to my students was this: 

"Be Awake!"

“Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” 

Ephesians 5:14

(The pensive Buddha, pictured at right, is a Korean national treasure.)

Some Thoughts from a Visitor

Shortly after I arrived at Handong last August, I was asked by the student newspaper to write a brief essay describing my initial impressions as a visiting professor. Occasionally, a view from the outside can be a help to enlighten those on the inside.

In that first article, I focused on some early experiences with my U.S. & International Law (UIL) students whom I found needed to be encouraged to pose questions in class.

I suggested that asking questions is not a sign of disrespect or inattention, but rather, a good question is actually the most authentic signal that a student is truly interested in understanding the deeper meaning of things and not just memorizing facts that will quickly lose their significance once the class exam has passed.

Now, as I come even more quickly to the conclusion of my visiting professorship, I’ve been asked to reflect back and recount some lessons I’ve learned during my sojourn here – lessons that I will take back with me when I return to teaching at Fontbonne University this fall in St. Louis.

While those lessons have occurred on nearly a daily basis, I believe they may be best expressed in a few words. Through my days of service among you as a teacher, I have learned anew, from experiences with students and colleagues alike, the value of a walking-paced life, the value of interruptions, and the value of listening.

Coming from the States, one of my greatest challenges here arose from my nearly in-born tendency to live life at a rapid pace. Multi-tasking is considered a mark of proficiency. During my time at Handong, though, I have been put in a position where I lived within a short 5-minute walk to where I worked and worshipped. Leading a walking-paced life slows you down. It prompts you to be more reflective about what you do and even what you say.

You also can discover more opportunities to think when you slow down. The life I had been living in the States could fairly be described as a “driving-paced life” that frequently filled me with tension, stress, and worries. At a walking-pace, life may more readily become an on-going occasion for prayer trusting that Christ will lead us step-by-step as we seek to follow him all the days of our life.

Another challenge facing me came from a personality trait that is often inbred in people with my ethnic heritage (i.e. German as the “Sch” in my surname signals). That personality trait is one that insists upon orderliness and precision, especially in my daily schedule.

I usually approach each day with a pre-determined plan for nearly every hour. What I often found, though, was that my “plan” was interrupted by knocks on my door or emails announcing meetings for me to attend, not next week, but within a few hours.

To say that these interruptions caused me a bit of consternation would be to put it mildly. But, when I allowed the “interruptions” to change my plans, I found that instead of keeping me from doing what I thought I needed to do, pausing to heed those “interruptions” was actually what I was supposed to do. Being ready and willing to respond to the requests of others resulted in greater meaning for that day.

Likely the biggest challenge, though, that confronted me arose from neither the pace of my life nor the pattern of my day. Instead, it stemmed from my ever-present propensity to talk, and to talk too much. In my professional career, I have been a lawyer, a pastor and a professor. Each of these vocations is a “talking” profession. From my months here at Handong, I learned that well-spoken words have an essential prerequisite – thoughtful, engaged listening.

I learned once again the value of being quick to hear and slow to speak. I also learned anew (and tried to convey to my students) that when I do speak fewer words are best. These are the lessons that I will take with me from my time of teaching and learning here – slow down, pause and listen. What I hope to leave to my students and colleagues at Handong is this seven-word admonition: Question everything! Hold on to the good!

(This essay is planned for publication in the June edition of Handong Today, a student English-langugage newspaper)

Look Out for Them Thar Boars!

That's what I said, "Boars!" -- as in wild pigs!  I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked out the back window of our apartment late Saturday afternoon.  At first, I could only make out some movement in the tall grass that had overgrown the rice fields in the valley immediately behind the Mission House.  I was drawn, though, to watch. 

There was something out there. In a matter of minutes, he came into the clearing, or at least, I'm pretty sure it was a he. It was a boar! He was as big as any pig I had ever seen back in Missouri.  But he had something those hogs did not.  He had a mane of short, stiff, black hair running from the top of his head to the middle of his back -- the sign of what an Arkansan would call a "razorback."

But then, I realized that this big guy was not alone.  There was a second dark and equally big boar rooting around, too . . . and three more young pigs.  A whole family of wild boar had come out of the woods to root for their evening dinner in our "backyard."  We haven't experienced much of Korean native wildlife, so this was quite a sight. 

I tried to take a picture -- just in case some of my more skeptical readers might be supposing that I've gone to composing fiction just to liven up our last few weeks here.  Here's what I was able to catch with my little Samsung digital camera with its 31.5mm zoom lens.

When I recounted this little adventure to my mother in a telephone conversation this morning, she highly recommended that we not take any more hikes up into the hills behind the Mission House, unless of course, we were well-armed with a big stick.  Look-out for them thar boars!