Though He Fall, He Will Not Be Utterly Cast Down . . . . .

I have done my fair share of stupid things, but this past Friday afternoon will have to go down in the annuls of my life experiences as one of my stupidest.  Here's the picture of the "unbalanced man."  I was hurrying across campus heading back to my apartment.  In one hand, I was carrying an over-weight bag of groceries and in the other, my mobile phone.

My first mistake:  hurrying. My second: carrying too many groceries in just one bag rather than separating them out into two. My third: attempting to retrieve a text message while walking too fast and carrying too many groceries in one bag.  These three added together caused me to be distracted from the path I was upon and consequently, to completely lose my balance when I stepped-up upon a large rock that leads up a small hill along a short-cut to the faculty apartments.

In this unbalanced state, I fell back and to my left landing with a resounding thump upon the cold, hard Handong ground.  The mid-section of my left rib cage absorbed the brunt of the impact and pain immediately followed.  How more stupid could I have been?  That was the persistent question that pressed hard upon my dizzying thoughts as I laid there catching the breath that had been knocked out of me. In time, I rolled over and sat up, still a bit light-headed, though.

Eventually, I regained my footing, gathering up the groceries that had been strewn about by the fall, and resumed my journey, now walking much more slowly and deliberately along the sidewalk and up the road to my apartment.  I was able to prepare the lunch that I had been rushing to complete, but with a new found awareness of the realities of life -- a new thorn in my flesh for which I now need Christ's sustaining grace all the more to bear.

After heeding the wise advice of a caring colleague, I went later in the afternoon to the hospital and found from the doctor's exam and x-ray's that the fall had caused nearly inch-long cracks in two of my left ribs.  Now, four days on, the pain in my side persists reminding me night and day of my on-going need to slow down and give thanks for the goodness of our God.

That goodness has been lavished upon this poor miserable, stupid, unbalanced man by the gracious, tender kindnesses of his students, family and friends who have been attending to his care with many visits, thoughtful prayers, meal preparations, dish-washings, house-cleanings, telephone calls, and the sweetest text and Facebook messages throughout his days and pain-filled nights.

Through these and in so many other ways, I have been overcome by the love of our God who promises that, though I fall, and surely I do every day, I will not be utterly cast down, because the Lord upholds me by His hand.  Psalm 37:24

Some might say . . . ."Well, its about time!!"

Here I am at the beginning of my fifth semester of teaching at Handong.  When I first was thinking about teaching abroad, (more than three years ago) colleagues who had done so strongly urged me to make the most of my experience by learning the language of my host country. 

But, I've never been very good at learning, and even worse at speaking, modern languages.  Give me Koine Greek or Classical Latin -- you know, those dead languages that no one speaks any more!!  "Semper ubi sub ubi!!"  I still remember that maxim from my high school Latin teacher at St. Paul's in Concordia.

So . . . I've resisted the counsel of my colleagues and the advice of my loving spouse, who, by the way, started her language lessons within two weeks of arrival here in the Spring of 2010.  Within one semester, she had already excelled far beyond my "An yong ha se yo" and "Gam sa ham ni da!" -- which have been my main stays for the past two years! 

I've resisted that is, until now.  This evening, I experienced my first lesson in Korean!

And while I've been told that Korean is one of the most difficult languages to learn, and even with my built-in, hard-wired, left brain-right brain-disability with language-learning (primarily, I would contend, because I'm a visual rather than an auditory learner) I found my lesson this evening to be exceptionally fascinating as well as intellectually stimulating. 

Korean is a very "scientific language" -- that is, the formation of both the consonant and vowel sounds follow a very rational, logical progression.  My tutor demonstrated how the vowel sounds progress from those made with the mouth wide open to those made with it increasingly closed.  As I saw the sounds being produced and heard them expressed, they began to make sense even to this lingua-dumbie!  

Now, I must confess that I find other Asian languages, such as Chinese and the Chin language of Myanmar, to be much more melodious.  But, the precision of Korean is beginning to rival what I had previously believed to be only the province of the ancient classical tongues.

There was, however, one very disappointing discovery.  I say disappointing, but it was also a very enlightening insight into how language shapes our view of the world.  I asked my tutor to tell me the Korean word for "dove."  The word is 비둘기 (pronounced "bi dool gi").  It means "pigeon."  

There is no separate word in Korean for "dove."  So if I were to quote the Song of Solomon to my beautiful wife telling her that she had "dove's eyes" (see Song of Songs 1:15), I would say  in Korean, "You have pigeon's eyes."  Not as romantic as Solomon's words to the Shulamite.

So, in this case, it might not work for me to advise my young male Korean students to master the poetry of Solomon as they make their preparations to woo the woman of their dreams.  Well, so much for Korean as a language of love; at least that is, in translation.  

I hear, though, that I still have much to learn both about and from the Korean language, which admonition I readily accept and yield to.  So . . . . off to start my homework! It is indeed about time that I started!

“People of Yangon, I perceive that in every way you are very religious."

I've just returned to Handong after spending 16 days in Myanmar -- "the Land of the Golden Pagodas."  This photo was taken during my walk through the shines of Shwedagon Pagoda, the largest Buddhist pagoda in the entire world. I felt that I had a greater sense of what Paul experienced when he walked through the shines and temples of Athens (Acts 17:16-34).  I was invited to Myanmar to help teach and train pastors, church leaders and missionaries who serve among the ethnic tribes and native Burmese.  What I found, though, was a study in contrasts.

Myanmar (formerly known as Burma) was once one of the most well-developed countries in all of Southeast Asia.  Now, it is re-emerging from third-world status that has characterized it over the past 50 years.  As a result, contrasts between wealth and poverty abound. On one street, you may find a brand-new high-rise building under construction next to a derelict, dilapidated structure.  Rather than repair and renovate them, most buildings are left to deteriorate. On one side of the river, a modern city is rising, while on the other side, the people of a primitive village eek out an agrarian existence.

But the greatest contrast of all is a spiritual one.  The vast majority of people are cultural Buddhists and over 1.8 million are monks or nuns who daily walk the streets offering prayers in exchange for gifts of rice, fruits and vegetables.  There is, though, a substantial minority of Christians who are the spiritual children of such servants of God as Adoniram Judson.  While their numbers may be small in contrast to the followers of other faiths, the devotion of believers in Myanmar was a true encouragement and challenge to my heart.

Many of these believers gather in small home churches in the villages to worship and hear God's Word.  Others meet in well-established churches within Yangon and other cities.  Bible colleges and seminaries have been founded throughout the country to form and equip leaders for the churches and workers who take the Gospel to the un-reached Burmese Buddhist in the villages.  As I visited among the believers in Myanmar, I realized that the needs of the churches in this country are, in fact, the same needs that exist in churches in all countries, whether developed or emerging.

There is first the need for servant leaders among the churches.  The church in Burma, as well as in Korea and America, already has its fill of men and women who seek to dominate and compel the obedience of others not by their Christ-like example, but by an appeal to institutional position and title.  What is truly needed, though, are followers of Christ who seek to serve others according to the pattern of Christ's life -- by bearing the burdens of others.

Second, there is the desperate need for the teaching of God's Word. All too often, ministries are started and churches are operated according to human ideas and worldly practices.  There is a sad lack of Biblical teaching beyond the fundamental truths of the Gospel.  When church policy decisions must be made, most appeal to the intuition of men rather than to the principles of Scripture. And once decisions are made, there is a lack of willingness to subject those decisions to the scrutiny of Scripture.  These two needs, though, are no more prominent in the churches of Myanmar than they are in the churches of America.

In contrast to what I've found in American churches, however, Myanmar has in abundance among its believers those who desire and are willing to follow their Lord wherever He leads without attachment to this present world.  And it is the evidence of that desire in the words and actions of these dear brothers and sisters that compels my heart to remain open to future calls for further service to the people of this beautiful land.

Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing

This is a study session I was asked to lead for our Handong students this past semester.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3