So Just What is a Global University?

Today marks the conclusion of my first semester of teaching at Handong Global University.  My students completed their final exams in each of my three courses over the past two days.  Now, I have only to finish marking them and then to submit the final grades each has earned.  Here at the end of the fall term, I find myself pondering a question that has been presenting itself to me for some time now.  What is it about Handong that makes it a "global" university?  There are many "state" universities, quite a few "national" ones (Seoul National, just to name one) and even several "international" universities around the world.  But just what is a "global" university? 

Though it may not be apart of the university's name, there is hardly any institution of higher education these days that doesn't say that it is challenging and equipping its students to think and act globally. When communication can be accomplished at the speed of the Internet and transportation to nearly any location on six continents (I'm excluding Antarctica at this point, though I'm sure a few airlines will start making regular commercial flights there and back any day now) takes merely hours rather than days, weeks or months, this world has become in many respects a global community.

But what do we mean when we say we are seeking to think and to act globally? What’s more, how might I help others to begin to think and act in this way? How might the members of a university -- as a community of thinking, learning and doing -- authentically embody the idea of being global?  I'm sure there are some who have begun to engage this question in thoughtful ways.  My experience here over the past four months leads me to conclude that a part of the beginning of being a global university is found in students and faculty who are already living their lives for others.

I have found it in students who have come to this university wishing to be further formed and equipped to serve the needs of others wherever they might be called to serve.  For most, this means looking ahead to serving back in their home countries -- serving for the greater good of developing their home countries.  For some, it means being willing to go to any of the emerging countries in order to assist them in their development through the rule of law and the upholding of human rights.

These two young men are great examples of the students I'm describing.  Prophete (left) from Haiti is studying international law, and Edward (right) from Tanzania is studying management and economics.  Both demonstrate exceptional servant leadership qualities.  Both are planning to return to their home countries after completing their studies.  Both have taught me more of what it means to be apart of a global university. 

I don't know that anyone here would say that Handong has a corner on the "global" idea of a university, but in some very significant ways the students and faculty are living it out as they seek to live more diliberately and unreservedly for others here, at home or wherever they may be called to serve.

A Subject Not Often Brought Up in Polite Conversation . . .

At least that's what is often said about the subject of either religion or politics, especially as we anticipate conversations with family and friends at holiday gatherings.  Earlier this semester, though, I came upon a book whose author dares to take on both and does so in an thought-provoking way. 

This topic is one that continues to interest me as I examine the inter-relationship of law, ethics and theology. So, since I recently completed (teaching is not the only thing I've been doing here at Handong these past four months) the following review of this new book by Richard Hughes -- a professor from whose writings I have learned much -- I thought some of you might enjoy or even be challenged by his throughts on:

Christian America and the Kingdom of God (University of Illinois Press, 2009)

No subject raises more debates nor fosters greater confusion among conscientious Christians than the inter-relationship of religion and politics. Professor Hughes’ new work contributes significantly to this on-going debate by both helping to dispel the confusion over history and the Bible that all too often characterizes those discussions and charting a clearer course for a Christian’s engagement of the political and social issues of our day.

Through careful historical analysis and comprehensive biblical exegesis, Hughes examines not only whether America was ever intended by its founders to be a Christian nation but also what is an even more telling inquiry; namely, whether that description may, or even should, be applied to the United States today. His approach to these questions, though, goes well beyond mere political theory or even theological doctrine. Indeed, Hughes has accomplished in this concise work as comprehensive a critique of “Christian Americanism” as Mark Noll did of anti-intellectualism fifteen years ago in his Scandal of the Evangelical Mind.

From the outset, Hughes asserts three theses: first, “the notion of Christian America and the notion of the kingdom of God are polar opposites whose values could not be further apart” (4); second, “the devastatingly ironic truth that Christian America so often behaves in such unchristian and even anti-Christian ways” (5); and finally, “that Christians should behave in ways that are consistent with their profession of faith, especially in America’s public square” (5). He then proceeds to present his case against Christian Americanism in five well-formed chapters.

In the first, he examines the historical account of those who have viewed America as a nation chosen by God. Beginning with the earliest identifications made by colonial leaders of the New World as a “Promised Land,” Hughes surveys a litany of claims to America’s “chosen” status throughout its history. He describes each assertion fairly and within both the historical and theological contexts that gave them rise. Having succinctly and carefully observed claims from Tyndale’s time to their contemporary formulations in the preaching of D. James Kennedy, Hughes proceeds to assess whether such claims hold up under the scrutiny of a thorough biblical review.

Many who advocate for America’s chosen status draw heavily upon analogies to the nation of Israel in the Old Testament. But rather than indulging in a “proof-text” approach, Hughes counters these claims by charting the full scope of the Biblical narrative to demonstrate that the particularistic status associated with Israel as God’s chosen nation in the Hebrew Bible finds its fulfillment, according to the New Testament, not in a national – much less an ethnically identified – community, but in the Body of Christ, in whom there are no racial, national, ethnic, political, nor even social or economic distinctions.

In his next two chapters, Hughes turns his analysis from the notion of America as a “chosen nation” to the theme which occupies him for the larger part of this work, i.e. a biblical understanding of the kingdom of God and its bearing upon the claim of a Christian America. His critique is premised upon the notion that if America is to be considered a truly Christian country, then it values and actions should bear semblance to the description of the qualities and characteristics that define the kingdom of God both in the Hebrew Bible (in particular the those announced and called for by the prophets, e.g. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Hosea, Amos and others) and in the teachings of Jesus Christ and his apostles as set forth in the New Testament. Hughes demonstrates that the chief characteristics of the kingdom of God described in the Scriptures taken as a whole are justice and peace.

Justice, especially as called for by the prophets, means equitable treatment and care especially for the poor and marginalized in society. Peace entails a conscientious dedication to peace-making and efforts toward reconciliation between individuals, groups and races as well as nations. Though Hughes does not cite him in depicting a nation devoted to peace, echoes can be heard of Bonhoeffer’s Fano address: “There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared. It is the great venture” (A Testament to Freedom, 228). Hughes’ analysis of the New Testament passages on the kingdom of God, though sound in both interpretation and application, could have been rendered even more persuasive among a broader scope of evangelicals and fundamentalists (all of whom should be reading this book) had he relied upon the scholarship of N.T. Wright on several points where he instead resorts to Crossan.

In the remaining chapters, Hughes returns to an historical investigation of reasons offered to support Christian Americanism. He traces the first antecedents of this idea all the way back to Constantine’s Edit of Milan and then charts its seminal development through Justinian and Theodosius. He describes a second strand in its emergence that was woven in through the Reformation and especially Calvin’s doctrine of the sovereignty of God that motivated a not insignificant number of the early colonists. Hughes strongly rejects, however, the claim that the new nation was established as a distinctively Christian country.

Rather, he demonstrates instead that the vast majority of the founding leaders were not exclusively Christian and that the documents they formulated to define the nation, while upholding the role of religion in society and protecting it from state interference, were in purpose and effect fundamentally secular. He then recounts a series of engagements throughout the 18th and 19th centuries in an on-going battle for Christian America through such forays as the Second Great Awakening and Manifest Destiny, then on to the Gilded Age’s gospel of wealth and the social gospel’s rejection of it. All of which, Hughes contends contributed in various ways to the messianic nationalism that characterized those who advanced Christian Americanism through the later part of the 20th century and into our present day.

The book reaches its climax in Hughes unflinching critique of the fundamentalist vision of America within a Dispensational eschatology as it was embodied within the Evangelical Right from its early advances in the Reagan administration to the political might it displayed through the policies, both foreign and domestic, of George W. Bush. In sum, he issues a prophetic warning, in his own right, to all those who claim that God is on “their side” in an Armageddon-like clash of civilizations. Hughes concludes his critique by drawing a telling analogy:

"Obviously, there is a sense—and, in fact, a profound sense—in which America is a Christian nation. After all, some 76 percent of the American people claim to be Christian in one form or another. But the Christian character of the United States is comparable to the Christian character of the Roman Empire after Constantine . . . . Like that ancient empire, the United States abounds in Christian trappings. And yet the United States embraces virtually all the values that have been common to empires for centuries on end. It pays lip service to peace but thrives on violence, exalts the rich over the poor, prefers power to humility, places vengeance above forgiveness, extravagance above modesty, and luxury above simplicity. In a word, it rejects the values of Jesus" (185-86).

In this book, Hughes has synthesized and fortified the calls issued over the past ten years by the likes of Stephen Carter and Jim Wallis for a renewed prophetic engagement of religiously motivated Christians in the social and political issues of our day; but in so doing, to acknowledge that the Kingdom of God will not, indeed cannot, be brought about by force of arms or even force of law, but as it was, and is and will be in Christ’s day, only by the force of truth. For anyone who wishes to live responsibly within the concrete realities of life today, Hughes’ analysis found within these pages should be read with careful thought and his challenges heeded with conscientious action.

Unto Us a Son is Given

Just a few hours ago, I was enjoying a wonderful conversation with Sandy via Skype when our son Caleb called her from Portland to announce the glad tidings -- Micaela gave birth at 1:59pm (Pacific Time) Sunday (13 December 2009) to their first born son, Atreya Lynx Schulten. 

He weighed in at 8 pounds (3.62 kilos for my friends here in Asia).  He has light brown hair and a strong pair of lungs according to his papa!  He is also a hungry little fellow as he took to nursing within minutes of his birth!  Both mom and child are doing very well.

Atreya is the name of the 8th century BC physician and sage from India who is considered one of the founders of Indian medicine.  Lynx is a Native American name and also the name of one of Caleb's good friends within the primitive living community.  We are all rejoicing for his healthy and safe birth!

As the Rest of the World Sleeps . . .

Asia rises!  Those are the words I hear each morning when I turn on Channel NewsAsia to catch-up on the latest events impacting our lives in today's global society. And, its true -- since as most of you who are reading this blog (my friends and family back in the States) settle in for your night of rest, we here in Asia have already arisen from our beds (or for the more authentic Asians, from their mats) and have begun the next new day.

But that statement is much more than a comment on the difference in time zones between the Western Hemisphere and the East. In many real and practical ways, Asia is rising to greater and greater prominence on the world stage while a good deal of the rest of the world is sleeping, or at least slogging along. The ascendance of China and India to the status of leading nations in the global economy is as indisputable as it is inevitable in light of the current trends in both the West and the East. 

So what’s to be made of Asia’s rising? Are we to perceive it as a threat or is it the marker of movement for the 21st century? The sun never sat on Britannia in the 19th century, and near the close of the 20th, America claimed sole possession of dominance among world powers after the fall of the Soviet Union. But today, if we are honest with ourselves, we must admit that the status of the United States as foremost leader in the arenas of power – economic and military – has been and continues to decline, while the increasing emergence of Asian countries into prominent roles in global affairs is being recognized by every leader of the West.

The community of humanity will always consist of differing peoples, tribes, languages and nations. Rather than angling for positions of control, power and prestige, maybe it is time for us to learn to bow a bit more often and even a bit deeper. 

God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble . . . . Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.    James 4:6-8

The Ministry of Bearing

As I'm coming to the close of my first four months in Korea, I have been experiencing this past week what some of my American colleagues tell me is a common disposition in first-time foreigners. In spite of all the wonderful opportunities to celebrate the accomplishments of students at the end of the academic year, I have been thinking and acting a whole lot more like Scrooge than Santa Claus – no matter how hard I’ve tried to work-up a holiday spirit. 

Nearly every little thing throughout each day that otherwise might only be a minor irritant has now, from my perspective, transformed into a major -- did I say MAJOR -- source of consternation!!!!! My patience is wearing thinner and thinner. (For my regular readers, you may have noticed a shift in tone in some of my recent posts). 

I am so ready to get back to the States for what I’m looking forward to -- a few wonderful weeks of renewed fellowship with my dearly loved ones. My only consolation, at this point, is to confess my failures to love and bear with my new brothers and sisters, and trust the forgiving grace of our Lord. I have been reminded of my deep need to ask God to cultivate within me a servant’s heart. 

Brother Bonhoeffer teaches us to serve one another in very practical ways. One of the chief means of service is what he describes as the ministry of bearing. As followers of Christ we are called upon to bear the burdens of others.

Those burdens include the other “person’s nature, individuality, endowment. It also includes his weaknesses and oddities, which are such a trial to our patience, everything that produces frictions, conflicts, and collisions among us” 

“To bear the burden of the other person means involvement with the created reality of the other, to accept and affirm it, and, in bearing with it, to break through to the point where we take joy in it.” (Life Together 101).

I have not yet made that break through to joy. I know that I am not capable of it.  So, if it should occur (and only the others with whom I am called to bear will know for sure) it will only occur by the grace and mercy of Christ.

Sitting Down to Dine

This past Friday evening I had the privilege of being invited to the "End of Semester Party" put on by our International Student Union here at Handong. This is the same group that hosted the "open mic" night a few weeks back where I was asked to serve as one of the competition's judges. The invitation came by text message to my mobile. I was further advised that a car would come by to pick me up and transport me to the party venue. In many respects, I felt as if I were being given the VIP treatment.

The evening's festivities did not disappoint in any regard. If fact, the whole experience reflected all of the many and varied dimensions of the cross-cultural engagements I have been provided during my first four months of teaching here. The banquet afforded both traditional Korean dishes as well as a wide selection of entrées from throughout Asia and even a few Western-styled items. Needless to say, we were more than abundantly provided for.

But what was an even a greater blessing, though, was the delight and true joy I experienced from the fellowship of sitting around a table with students from eleven different countries, including Haiti, Congo, Cameroon, Tanzania, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, Russia, Mongolia, China, and India. In addition, there were also students from Kenya, Thailand, Philippines and Korea. Nearly all the students joined in both singing and dancing to traditional songs from their home countries. It was one of those evenings that you wish would continue on for hours more.

As I read the Scriptures these days, the phrase “all nations” has begun to stand out in new ways. I sense that I am being given a small preview of the glorious gathering that awaits us when people from every tribe, language, and nation will join together in unity around the throne of God.

Thirty Years Ago

Thirty years ago, I was teaching sixth, seventh and eighth graders language arts and social studies in St. Louis, Missouri.  Thirty years ago, my wife and I were awaiting the birth of our first child. And it was, thirty years ago today that Caleb Andrew was born.

Today, I'm teaching university students from over twenty-five different countries American law in Korea.  Today, I'm celebrating the birthday of my son, though I'm nearly half-way around the world from him and his beautiful wife, Micaela. [That's them in a photo I took at their wedding out at Cuiver River State Park in August 2008 - thirty years after Sandy and my wedding in August 1978].

Today, Caleb and Micaela are now expecting the birth of their first child.  So many wonderful events have occured over the past thirty years, and yet in some even more wonderful ways, the cycle of life is being renewed again by God's gracious goodness and mercy -- His faithfulness that is new to us each morning.

May you and Micaela continue to know God's good and gracious hand upon your lives, my Son!  You are an amazing young man, and I am very proud of the man, the husband and soon to be father, that you have become!

Having Ears You Do Not Hear

When you are an alien living as stranger in a strange land, you tend to associate your new experiences with ones you've had before.  You do this to try to better understand your past, the present and how you might make your way through the days that lie ahead of you.  This week, I realized that my current experiences can deepened my appreciation of others I've come to know in the past.

One of the most interesting experiences in my past has been the opportunity I've been given to learn from those who are deaf.  Over the last 15 years, I've come to understand the Deaf culture better through spending time with them. My wife is a sign-language interpreter, among many other things, and together with her I've met and become good friends with many Deaf, and through my wife’s assistance, I’ve learned much from them. 

I recall vividly my first real insight into Deaf culture. It came through a story teller who explained the drastically different reactions he received when as a young boy he had been taught to voice words. When he attempted to voice the simple sentence "I like baseball," those who heard his halting expressions of sounds reacted as if, according to his account, he was mentally impaired.

When, however, later in this story teller's life, he entered into groups of hearing people and began to express himself with sign language, the reactions he received showed that those who observed his signing acknowledged him to be a very intelligent person. They realized that he knew a language that they did not know.

For the first time, I realized that signing is a distinct language in itself, and those who use it to communicate are just like any other person who might speak German, French or even Korean. I realized that a person’s intelligence is not impaired by a disability, but rather their intelligence is demonstrated by their ability to overcome a perceived limitation through new forms of communication.

Now, for me here in Korea, amongst a majority of people whose language I do not understand nor speak (and have to this point made very little progress in learning), I am the one with the disability. I am the one at the disadvantage. And just this past Thursday evening, it finally dawned upon me that I am the one who, in a certain, small way, is deaf in this culture. I hear sounds but I understand nothing or nearly nothing.

Thursday evening was the annual university Christmas concert. While some of the songs where performed in English, all of the spoken introductions and explanations were in Korean. I thought to myself, “I’m sure those who organized this concert realized that at least a few people in the audience would not be Korean-speakers. Why didn’t they provide a translator?”

When teaching in the States at Fontbonne University, I noted that every university event provided sign-language interpretation. This is most likely because Fontbonne is known for its outstanding Deaf Education department and often deaf or hearing-impaired are among those attending the events. The University consciously seeks to provide the means for communicating understanding to all who attend.

So, as I sat there at the Christmas concert and listened to the emcee introduce acts and to performers explaining whatever it was they were explaining, I acquired a deeper understanding of what it means to have ears but still not hear.  But if that is all I learned, I'm not listening very well.  My failure to hear, to understand cannot be blamed on the failure or deficiency of others.  I bear the responsibility for seeking to understand.  I may not now have the ability, in and of myself, to gain the understanding, but I bear the responsibility to ask for it.

No one is alone sufficient to achieve understanding. We will always need others.  Though I have ears, I always need others to help me hear.

To Question or Not to Question? . . . . . . . . . That is the Question.

As a teacher, I have been endeavoring over the past four months here at Handong both to encourage and to challenge my students to ask questions.  My approach, though, runs contrary to the inclination not to question that most Asian students have had instilled within them from their culture (or at least, that's the explanation that is most often offered to me for their hesitation, and in some cases, out-right resistance to raising questions).

Many view questioning not as a positive expression of desire for deeper understanding of an idea, but rather as a negative attack that seeks to undermine the "authority" of the teacher as well as create divisions and doubt.  From this perspective, listening quietly is expected of students, rather than questioning openly.  There are, though, some questions that are not aimed at understanding. In my reading, I recently encountered Paul's admonition to avoid "foolish and undisciplined speculations [questions], understanding that they only give rise to quarrels" (2 Timothy 2:23).

So, if there are some questions that are either motivated by or are aimed at creating quarrels, for the sake of quarreling, then we would have to acknowledge that not all questions are of equal value.  Not every question should be entertained. Not every question should even be aired.  Some questions are constructive.  They lead toward building understanding and strengthening learning relationships.  But other questions, may be corrupting. These sorts of questions are intended to foster greater misunderstanding and confusion.

The problem is, however, that any given question on its face may not reveal its true character; or, should I say, the question itself may not disclose the true character and intentions of the one who poses the question.  Since we are all humans who are engaged in the endeavor of education, I must ever be on guard that the questions I put to others be questions truly seeking understanding and not be questions meant to divide, harm others, corrupt the pursuit of truth for the sake of self-justification.

All of these thoughts came to bear upon me yesterday, when I pondered whether I should raise a question in response to a guest speaker's presentation that was, as I pondered, being delivered to our faculty.  The presenter was a former Egyptian Muslim imam who had converted to Christianity.  He now gives presentations to governmental organizations as well as educational institutions and private groups around the world.  He had, in fact, just before arriving in Korea been in Switzerland where he consulted with several members of the government there.

In his presentation, the speaker set forth twenty-two of the thirty articles in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the member countries of the United Nations in 1948 and compared various selections from the Islamic Scriptures to each of these articles in his effort to demonstrate that the teachings and practices of the Muslim religion violate the UN Declaration.  He then argued that action against the spread of Islam should be taken by those nations that recognize the Declaration as a standard for human rights.

He gave as his one and only example of the type of action for which he was calling the recent adoption by the Swiss people of a ban on the construction of minarets at mosques within Switzerland.  (read more)  What the speaker, however, failed to acknowledge in his presentation was that the Swiss action banning the construction of minarets was in and of itself a violation of the provision of the UN Declaration which expressly acknowledges that: "Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance" (emphasis added).

As I sat and listened to the speaker's presentation, I began to formulate several questions to pose to our guest should the audience be given that opportunity.  My questions were: "Do you believe that the UN Declaration is a standard for human rights that all countries should follow?  If so (and I assumed that the speaker would say yes to my first question) have you considered whether the Swiss ban on minarets is an action that itself violates the UN Declaration?" 

I must readily admit that I wished to expose the evident inconsistency in the speaker's presentation with much more directness and force.  No public Q&A time was offered, though, and when I went up to talk with the speaker personally his limited time was occupied by many who were approving of his comments.  I did, however, raise my concerns with a few fellow faculty members who were also waiting to talk with our guest speaker.  So, I didn't put my questions to the speaker. 

This morning I found an interesting article by Dr. Albert Mohler commenting on the Swiss banning of minarets.  I emailed this article out to all of my fellow faculty members here at Handong and promptly received several replies that indicated I was not the only one who was raising questions about what we had heard.  One colleague wrote: "read [Mohler's article] with interest. Thanks much. Certainly consistent with what you were suggesting yesterday."   While I must be on guard not to use questions improperly, it is better to question than not to question. All ideas, all opinions, all things need to be examined by questions.

Birthday of a Great Author

The following is from Garrison Keillor's The Writer's Almanac.

It's the birthday of a writer who described life in the Mississippi River valley, whose most famous fiction and nonfiction is set along the river, and who got his pen name from being a riverboat captain, even though he spent most of his adult life traveling or living on the East Coast. That's Samuel Clemens, better known as Mark Twain, born on this day in Florida, Missouri (1835).

The town of Florida was about 30 miles inland from the Mississippi River, and Samuel's father, trained as a lawyer, was finding it impossible to support himself in Florida as a lawyer, or a politician or storekeeper, for that matter. So when Sam was four, his father moved the family to Hannibal, Missouri, right on the river, figuring that he would have better business there.

For a while, Sam had an ordinary childhood, playing with other boys his age, exploring the caves near Hannibal, playing elaborate pranks on fellow townspeople. But when he was 11, his father died, and after fifth grade he never went back to school. He was an apprentice with local printers, including his older brother Orion, who had bought out several of the area's newspapers. When he got tired of working for his brother, he went and worked as a typesetter on the East Coast. But he wasn't very successful.

Like many boys growing up along the Mississippi, Sam had dreamed of being a riverboat pilot, and so when he found himself, at 22 years old, struggling to make a living as a printer, he decided to switch careers entirely and give his childhood dream a try. It was a rigorous job, requiring an 18-month apprenticeship that cost $500 (more than $10,000 today). But he loved life on a riverboat. He said, "A pilot, in those days, was the only unfettered and entirely independent human being that lived in the earth."

And Sam Clemens was good at learning the river, and a very good pilot. He made enough money to pay off his debts, support his mother, and have some money left over to spend in St. Louis and New Orleans, where he learned to drink and dance. He admitted that he found it satisfying to walk around with hundred dollar bills peeking out between his smaller bills to show off to the pilots who didn't think he could ever learn the river as well as he did.

And he might have stayed this way for the rest of his life, a successful steamboat captain enjoying the river and the nightlife of the river cities, if the Civil War had not come along. In the spring of 1861, all the river traffic was stopped, and Sam no longer had a job.

His older brother was given the job of Secretary of the Nevada Territory, and was set to leave that summer. He asked Sam if he would like to travel west with him, and Sam agreed. He got a job writing for a newspaper in Virginia City, Nevada. He wanted to write under a new name, so he chose a riverboat expression: "Mark Twain," a call given when the river is two fathoms deep, about 12 feet, which means it is safe for the average steamboat. And so Mark Twain became a writer.

He lived in California, Europe, New York, and Connecticut, but never again along the Mississippi, although he went back in 1882 in order to do research for a project about life as a riverboat pilot. And he went back to the river again and again in his fiction, in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876), Pudd'nhead Wilson (1894), and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885).

[Twain's works are well-known in Korea.  Though an American author, his words speak to the core of the human condition and reveal our deepest needs.]

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

Why I Teach

A week or so ago, I recieved an email from Mark Johnson, the Director of Public Relations at Fontbonne University.  It was an email that he had sent out to all Fontbonne faculty.  Mark asked a simple question: "Why do you teach?"  Here's my answer to his question -

All of us teach others through what we say, how we act and the ways in which we live each day. Whether we intend to or not, we are influencing, instructing and, in many ways, shaping the lives of others. A few people are privileged and enabled to be involved in this endeavor in a purposeful way.

I teach because I’ve been shaped and equipped by others to teach, and when I’m teaching I sense that I’m being the person and doing the very human activity I was designed to be and equipped to do.

I been given the opportunity to teach at several different institutions during my career, and I can say without the slightest hesitation that my experiences teaching at Fontbonne have been the most enriching. Here I’ve been encouraged and supported to create learning experiences together with my students that flow out of pondering the questions of life.

Questions like those posed by Neil Postman and Charles Weingartner in their book, Teaching as a Subversive Activity: “What, if anything, seems to you to be worth dying for? What seems worth living for? How can ‘good’ be distinguished from ‘evil’?” Equipping and challenging others to reflect upon these sorts of questions is, to me, what teaching is all about.

I wrote those words as I reflected upon my teaching experiences the past four years at Fontbonne in St. Louis.  During these past four months teaching here at Handong, I continue to sense a renewal of my calling to teach.  The renewal comes through an on-going openness to ask myself those persistent questions and to listen to others for insights into their answers.

You're No Song and Dance Man!

Have I mentioned just how much Korean students love to sing and dance? Not just the drum and cymbal corps (who, by the way, are still banging away these nights), but virtually every Korean student I've met is quite the singer and almost as many are dancers, or at least they don't hesitate to try to be dancers.

So, it should come as no surprise that my students have been appealing to me to participate (I used that word advisedly; note, I did not say "perform") in their various talent contests over these past few weeks.  Or, maybe that is a surprise, or at least should be -- since I've never been known as a dancer (maybe a shuffler, at most) and my singing is best kept within the confines of a large choir.

A couple of Friday nights ago, I was recruited into serving as one of several judges for an "open-mic" evening at the "I-Cafe" (that's the International Cafe that operates within the Student Union especially for those members of the Handong student body who are from countries other than Korea). 

There were singers from Mongolia, Thailand, Cambodia, Korea, and the U.S., dancers from the Democratic Republic of Congo, Haiti and Russia, a linguist from Afghanistan (who could translate any phrase posed to him into 8 languages) and even a would-be comedian from the State of Washington (an exchange student from La Tourneau University).  To top it all off, the emcee was from Tajikistan.  The winners, though, were all singers:  third place to a young man from Korea, second to a young lady from Russia, and first to a young man from the States who played the guitar and sang with echoes of Eric Clapton.

[By the way, please do not worry -- The guy in the picture above is not trying to sing.  He's actually introducing the winners of the "open-mic" contest and happened to be caught in a somewhat awkward posture.  I must note, though, that his attire is quite international -- scarf from Angkor Wat, Cambodia, sweatshirt from The Oakes in Sheffield, England and cap, neatly tucked into the poach of his hoody, from Bray, Ireland].

Well, serving as a judge for the I-Cafe open-mic night was only my initiation into the world of student talent at Handong. The following week, I began rehearsing with a group of Korean law students for the annual "Battle of the Schools" talent contest where each school within the university presents a singing and dancing troupe in performance on center stage, under the lights, and on camera.

The first number our group was to perform was a four-part choral arrangement of St. Francis' Prayer for Peace -- in Korean! Thankfully, I was placed along side a young man with a strong and resonant bass voice, so following the music was rendered much easier. My challenge, however, was to get close enough to a correct pronunciation of the Korean words so that my trembling bass voice did not sound out when it should have been silent. All and all, though, the singing was a breeze compared to what lay ahead of me in the second half of our performance.

Our second number was a dance routine, and I don't mean "dance" as in the style that Bill Cosby was known to display during the opening of his popular TV show.  That would have been much more my speed, but oh no!  These Korean kids love to jump and kick and spin and even shake their hips and heads, at the same time!  In a very smart move on our dance director's part (after she had witnessed my first feeble attempts during the initial rehearsals of the routine), I was placed in the third row center, surrounded by young students who had mastered every move. 

I really have no idea how I did. It was fun, but exhausting.  We were the seventh group to go on that evening, and I think we made it to the stage around 10pm.  I'm told the whole thing was video-taped, but you can be sure that if it was, that video will never see the light of day (at least I hope it never will).  I do remember the last move of our routine -- a coordinated salute that I'm fairly sure I managed with my right hand and on the final beat.  If the performance is ever viewed again, then whoever sees it will conclude with me that I'm definitely NO song and dance man!

Here's a video I found from last year that features one of the Handong student performance groups.  This will give you an idea of the quality of talent that the university displays. (I am no where in this video; it will be quite obvious).

Thanksgiving Half-a-World Away

Although this is the first Thanksgiving I have ever experienced apart from my family, I've been sustained by the fellowship of new friends, and I've been reminded of the blessings that are bestowed upon us through our brothers and sisters in the body of Christ. 

I'm also thankful for the blessing of internet technology that enabled me to enjoy a video call with my family who had gathered at my mother's home for a traditional Thanksgiving feast. 

In spite of the fact that I'm half-a-world away from the people I love the most, I was enabled to give thanks this year in ways more meaningful to me than ever before.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
for his steadfast love endures forever.

It is he who remembered us in our low estate,
for his steadfast love endures forever;

and rescued us from our foes,
for his steadfast love endures forever;

he who gives food to all flesh,
for his steadfast love endures forever.

Give thanks to the God of heaven,
for his steadfast love endures forever.

Psalm 136:1,23-26

He Who Would Be Great, Must Be . . .

. . . the servant of all.  Jesus embodied this truth throughout his life and especially in his death.  He also said, "I did not come to be served, but to serve and to give my life as a ransom for all."  This way of living, though, goes completely against the grain of human nature.  Our natural inclination is to be served, to be preferred over others, and above all, to be first.  What I am learning during my time here is that human nature is basically the same in any culture, and the way of life shown to us by Jesus is counter-cultural no matter where you are on earth.

This realization came home to me a couple of evenings ago when I decided to head over to Hyoam Restaurant -- the best place to eat on campus -- for my dinner.  It's a popular spot among both students and faculty.  When I arrived, the line was quite long, so I took up my place at the end and waited.  The special on Tuesday evenings is breaded pork tenderloin.  It tends to be one of the hottest sellers.  As I waited for the line to progress toward the front counter where orders are placed, I was hoping (okay, I was also praying) that there would be at least one pork tenderloin left.

When I had made it about half-way up to the counter, I noticed that someone was quickly moving up the line, passing by me and going straight to the front.  Hold-on a second!  I've been waiting in this line for nearly 10 minutes, patiently taking gradual steps along the way as I watched more and more people ahead of me walk away with their trays filled with the pork tenderloin special.  Who was this guy cutting-in line?  Only later did I learn (after the special sold-out and I ended up with the "not-so teriyaki" chicken) that he was a faculty member.  Evidently, the custom on campus allows faculty members to go to the head of the line.  They need not wait their turn with everyone else.  That's the local practice.

I thought about that for a while.  I had every right in this culture to go straight to the front of the line, and no one would object.  But then, I reflected.  What would be better for a teacher to do?  One who is attempting to teach in the classroom about living like a follower of Christ in every dimension life? Would it be better to prefer myself or to defer and wait my turn in line like all the students?  So now, I run the risk of acting in a manner not expected of faculty on this campus if I simply wait my turn in line for a meal.  I'm finding, though, that being "counter-cultural" is our calling when it comes to the commands of Christ.

Jesus took time on the night he was betrayed not only to share a last supper with his disciples, but also to wash their feet.  He calls us to follow him -- to love others just as he has loved us -- to take up the basin and the towel.



Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord.  ~ Romans 12:10-11.

"I passed along and observed the objects of your worship . . ."

With these words, the Apostle Paul introduced his message to the Stoic and Epicurean philosophers on Mars Hill.  Before he attempted to start preaching the Gospel to the people of Athens, Paul had taken time to walk around and carefully observe their culture, their religious practices and their ways of living life.

Every culture, every place has objects of worship.  For Korea, Buddhism has had a substantial impact upon the formation of its culture.  This past Saturday, I was invited to travel to Gyeongju, the ancient capital city of Korea, and to tour Bulguksa Temple by my good friend and young brother, Kris and his wife Mary, who is a 3d year law student soon to graduate from Handong International Law School.  In many ways, Gyeongju is the Athens of Korea.  As we stepped through Bulguksa's gates, we began to realize that we were entering a very special place.

Bulguksa is known as "Buddha's country temple."  Within the monastery are two of the oldest pagodas in Korea.  They are among the country's national treasures.  While we were passing along through the temple grounds, we observed both the objects of worship (the picture at right is another national treasure -- a golden buddha measuring nearly 20 feet in height) and their worshippers. 

We met one elderly Korean lady who serves within the temple (most likely an "Anna" of this temple) and, though, we could not communicate with her in words, she was drawn to Kris and Mary's little 18 month-old daughter, Sadie Rose.  She displayed the warmth and tenderness of a grand mother, and her face glowed when Sadie Rose gave her a smile.

I wonder if what I sensed as we made our way around the temple and its cloister walk was something like what Paul experienced as he perused the Athenian altars.  Just as the Apostle heard echoes of God's truth in the words of the Greek poets and philosophers (see Acts 17:26-28), I perceived the wisdom of the ages in several decorative scrolls upon which monks from the temple had written some sayings of the Buddha. 

One read, "Go on your way with one mind."  It prompted me to think of the admonition in James 1 to single-minded devotion to Christ. Another said, "The fragrance of a flower may last for 1,000 miles, but the aroma of a virtuous life will endure for 10,000 years."  That one reminded me of Paul's description of followers of Jesus as an "aroma of Christ" in 2 Corinthians 2.  Kris and I talked as we walked about the ways we can see God's common grace reaching out and speaking to and through diverse cultures.

It takes time to "observe the objects of worship" in other cultures.  I'm sure Paul spent several days walking about Athens before he found the altar to the "Unknown God."  That altar became his entree to conversation with the people who spent there days hanging out on Mars Hills discussing the latest ideas of the day.  I don't think I'll encounter any Stoics or Epicureans around these parts, but maybe a deeper appreciation of the sayings of the Buddha may equip me to engage one of his followers who are without a doubt are -- like those in the Athens of Paul's day -- a very religious people.

*****************

Here are a few more pictures that Kris took while on our tour through Bulguksa.

The monastery's prayer bell (barrel-shaped copper bell in the center of this structure.

Close-up of the prayer bell.  Note the red, log-sized striker suspended to the right side of the bell.

Mary, Kris and Sadie Rose all bundled-up (It was a bit chilly)

A strange American chap we found posing in front of the Temple.

Things We Leave Behind

Discipleship is marked to some measure by things we leave behind.  This was clearly true of Jesus' first disciples who left their nets as they responded to his call, "Follow me."  A few weeks ago, I engaged in an email correspondence with a good friend and brother on this very subject.  The topic has commanded my attention for the better part of the past ten years. I believe, though, that I am just now beginning to be able to articulate what is meant by following Jesus.

Here is a portion of what I wrote:  "I have found that the actions that bear witness to true faith and hope are most often actions of the believer giving up, in very practical ways, his life ambitions, possessions, aspirations and desires, and then going where Christ both calls and leads him. So, the more pressing questions of personal examination for me, for you, for any follower of Christ who desires to follow Him in more authentic ways in the here and now, are: What have I given up? Where have I gone? What am I willing to give up? Where am I willing to go?"

"When a person genuinely examines himself/herself with such questions, I would venture to say that for the larger part of the professing church, the answers to what have I given up is very little or nothing, and to where have I gone is for the most part no where. I am thankful that I see in many young people, who today are challenged by the reality of authentic faith and hope, a true willingness and obedience to give up and to go. For in a very real sense, if the answer to the questions of willingness are not "everything" and "anywhere" then we have not truly appreciated what Christ has done for us nor have we begun to enter into what He will do through us."

After being here at Handong, though, for the past three months (today marks my 90th day away), I cannot say that I am following Jesus any closer because the authenticity of following is not measured by distance from the things, places or even the people we've left behind.  Rather, I believe it can only be evaluated in terms of the nearness of my heart's desire to the person of Christ and the measure to which my volition is filled by the will of God.  That desire will often move us to leave things behind, to depart from places of security and to separate, for a time, from even the people that we love more than any other people on earth.

Is this then where we truly find freedom?  The kind of freedom Jesus was talking about when he said, "If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed"?  I think it is very much what the Apostle Paul wrote to the Galatians Christians about when he said, "You have been called unto freedom, but do not use your freedom as an occasion for the flesh (i.e. "self-advancement" or "self-gratification"), but by love serve one another.  Service of others in the love of Christ will often -- may I say always -- lead us to leave things of our own behind.  But it may also call us to depart the familiar places and to separate from people dearly loved.

The problem is, leaving behind, departing and separating are not easy things to do.  They don't inspire confidence in our decisions nor a greater sense of commitment to even the noblest cause that may have motivated our actions.  Instead, we are often submerged into doubt, but these are the times when we look back not just at what has brought to the place we now find ourselves to be, but also to the paths that others have chosen in their desire to know and do the will of God.  In the testimonies of others who have trod upon such pilgrim paths, we find hope and a renewing of our faith in the one whom we follow. 

We do not walk our journey alone.  To follow means we are always walking after another -- the one who has promised to never leave or forsake us.  So may I, may you find freedom in the things we leave behind.




Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, “Follow me.”  ~ John 21:18-19

Eating for Pleasure or for Wholeness?

Three of my Korean colleagues took me out for dinner last evening. They assured me that it would be a special treat. The night was cold and blustery. The meal I was promised was especially suited, I was told, to warm chilled bones. The restaurant where we arrived specialized in a traditional Korean "stew."  So we sat, traditional Asian-style, cross-leged around a table that rose about 15 inches from the floor.

Upon its presentation, the "stew" appeared to be something like a spinach soup. There was a thick body of greens, yet the broth had more than a hint of a seafood flavor. I was later told that the base of the broth was a collection of very small shell fish. My colleagues consumed their bowls of stew with only momentary pauses for conversation. I, on the other hand, was talking more and eating less.

Without a doubt, the substance of the stew was quite healthy and hearty. I'm sure that I would have benefitted greatly had I been able to consume more of it. What I found difficult, though, was convincing my taste buds of this truth. It became quite self-evident to me that as a Westerner I have the habit of eating, first and foremost, to please my tongue rather than to fortify my body as a whole.

I was, however, able to take a few spoonfuls of rice, submerging them gently into the broth for a moment, and then swallowing quickly before any distinctly Korean flavors had much of an opportunity to stimulate my gustatory faculties. I ingested a small portion of the stew, but I definitely did not savor its flavor.

So, what's this poor American, bound by the habit of eating for pleasure, to do? I ate as much as I could, and then confessed to my brothers that I still have much to learn from them who eat first for the benefit of their whole bodies' health and who have taught their taste buds to appreciate nourishing foods much higher than tantalizing treats. 

Maybe, that would actually be a very useful approach to all our forms of consumption -- whether it be the food and drink we take-in through our mouths or the images and ideas we "consume" with our eyes and ears.  Clearly, Eastern habits of life have much more to teach me.

"Make This Your Occupation . . . "

"What should my second major be?" This was the question posed by a young man who stopped by my faculty office Monday morning.  He is a freshman and a student in my Survey of American Law course.  Every student here at Handong is expected to have two majors.  Both are to be chosen by the student. 

My young visitor had already chosen his first major -- U.S. & International Law -- the program of study that I was invited to teach.  Now, he was trying to determine his second major.  Should it be Informational Technology -- an area in which he has a keen interest; should it be Management & Economics or something else?

How do you go about answering such questions?  Some might suggest the "standard" answers:  choose a major that will give you a "fall-back" position should your aspirations for law school prove beyond your abilities to achieve.  Or, choose a major that will provide you good job opportunities when you graduate. 

I found myself, though, in a very perplexing spot.  I wanted to be helpful and encouraging to my young student.  But, I did not want to just give him the "quick answer" he was looking for.  Rather, I wanted to challenge and guide him to think for himself.

You see, I'm beginning to learn that most Korean students (and Asian students, in general, for that matter) look to their elders, their professors, their pastors for specific answers.  They want to be told what to do; what to think.  It is especially true, it appears, in Korea because of the cultural influence of Confucianism. 

From my Western perspective, I want to encourage and equip my students to make their own decisions.  I don't want to tell them what to think.  Instead, I endeavor to train them in how to think clearly, critically and wholly.

I believe my young friend may have been a bit disappointment by the counsel he received from me.  I did not give him a simple and direct answer.  Rather, I urged him to consider how God has designed and equipped him to serve others. 

I challenged him to choose a major that would require him to read broadly and write extensively.  If he believed that he should pursue the study of law, he would need to develop and hone his analytical thinking and persuasive reasoning skills.

For the follower of Jesus, the most important question is: what is God's call upon my life? This question can be examined by considering the gifts God has given you -- gifts that equip you to serve others.  The Apostle Paul wrote you his young protégé, Timothy, "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you . . . Do not neglect it. Let this be your care and your occupation, and everyone will be able to see your progress" (1 Timothy 4:14-15 NJB).

So your occupation should not be just "your job."  We should be occupied -- that is, we should be devoting our time, our energies, and our lives to the manner of serving others that God has equipped us with gifts to perform.

In short, we should heed God's calling as our occupation in life.  This will transform a student's decision about his major from selecting a course of study that will enable him merely "to make a better living" into choosing a path that will lead him, by God's grace, to "living a better life" by living his life in the service of others.

For Every Sigh There is a Psalm

The Book of Psalms is for many their most favorite book in the Bible.  Bonhoeffer wrote from his prison cell, "I love the Psalms.  I read them every day."  I would have to say that over the years, the Psalms have indeed become my favorite book -- the portion of Scripture that I tend to turn to most often when I seek to pray, when I look for words to express thanksgiving and most especially, when I long to pour out my heart before God.

I cannot now recall where I first read or heard what is, I think, the best seven-word summary of the Psalms, but it often comes to mind, and I've encouraged others in their times of dryness with these words:  "For every sigh there is a Psalm." In the Psalms, we meet David in his triumphs and defeats.  We read Moses' wisdom and his praise.  And, we even hear the hearts of those little known poets of the Lord like Asaph and the sons of Korah.

It should be no surprise then that the words of a Psalm brought with them a refreshing breath of the Spirit to a dry heart.  For me, this past weekend, it was Psalm 94:18-19 where the unnamed psalmist writes:

I need only say, 'I am slipping,' for your faithful love, Yahweh, to support me; however great the anxiety of my heart, your consolations soothe me. (New Jerusalem Bible)

His consolations came Sunday morning as I heard an encouraging message emphasizing God's faithfulness to His promise from 2 Samuel 7. In that chapter, God covenants with David, and David's response was simply, "Lord, do as you have said."  Later that morning, I gave a talk to the KEBS class at Joyful Church.  The lesson assigned to me for the day -- God's promise to Noah, his family and all creatures on the earth that was marked-out by God's setting His bow in the sky.

The Lord has His way of reminding us of His care, His promise, His faithfulness that support us however great the anxiety of our hearts or however many the sighs of our souls.

Rainy Days and Fridays . . .

Some of you may read the heading above and say to yourself, "Isn't the line 'Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down'? And . . .  you would be right, if you were singing the old Carpenters' song from the '70's. 

For me, though, its another rainy day, and its another Friday of yet another long week that has brought me yet again to near collapse, physically, as well as spiritual and emotional exhaustion. 

Or, as some followers of Christ through the ages have described it: "dryness"  Sort of ironic, don't you think?  Spiritual dryness in the midst of what appears to be incessant rainy days here in dark South Korea.

Consider this verse, as revised, from the song Richard and Karen sang over 37 years ago:

What I've got they used to call the blues
Nothin' is really wrong
Feelin' like I don't belong
Walkin' around
Some kind of lonely clown
Rainy Days and Mondays [Fridays] always get me down.

That just about sums it up.  Nothing is really wrong.  I have everything I need to "survive," but let's face it, "survival" is not really "living."  I think my short trip over to Japan last week may have reminded me a little too much of what its like to be around folks from the heart of America. 

Part of my problem seems to be that the few Americans that are here at Handong still strike me as quite distant and aloof (or is it me who's distant and aloof?).  So, I'm still feeling like I don't belong and I'm walkin' around some kind of lonely clown (at least, that's the impression I sometimes get from the Koreans who surround me and smile as I fumble with my chopsticks).

So, in the midst of this "rainy dryness" I'm experiencing, I read a few Psalms and say "Lord, I am yours, save me."  I'm hoping for a bit of soul revival this weekend.  I'll be teaching the kids in the KEBS class again at Joyful Church on Sunday morning.  Kids have an amazing way of refreshing your heart.  Even a heart that is rain-soaked, yet still so dry.

"You Don't Need a Map When You Have a Guide. The Important Thing, though, is . . .

. . . stay close to your guide."  These wise words are from my son, Caleb Andrew.  I recall that he first spoke them to me over ten years ago (he'll be 30 on Dec. 6), when we would often go on hikes or back-packing adventures along beautiful trails in Missouri (like Pickle Creek in Hawn State Park near St. Genevieve and the Osark Trail in the Mark Twain National Forest near Van Buren). His words resonate with truth not only for outings into the wilderness but also for each day of our lives. 

As humans, though, we would much rather have a map that lines out for us all the paths lying ahead so that we can be alerted to the challenging roads and be encouraged by knowing our ultimate destination.  Its a bit unsettling not to know where you're going and having to rely upon someone else to lead you.  But, I was recently reminded while on my journey to Japan that it is indeed much better to have a guide than try to follow a map -- even one with detailed instructions.

I had been given (through a number of emails) wonderfully detailed instructions on how to proceed from Narita International Airport to the adjoining depot to then travel by train via Tokyo Station (the Grand Central of Japan's capital) and a transfer to another train on to Atami Station where I was to look for a bus to the conference center, or should I miss the last bus due to a late arrival, I was then to hail a taxi that would convey me up the narrow, winding mountain road from Atami to the Fuji Hakone Land Hotel.

That should have given me confidence.  I had the map.  My only problem was that I had never been outside of Narita Airport before.  My prior travels had only taken me to Japan for lay-over's and transfers to planes that flew me on destinations beyond in Asia and America.  So, even though I had all the information to show how I could get from the airport to the hotel, I had this sinking feeling that my limited ability to take that information and use it in a strange place to find the way would most likely result in my being "a mite bewildered" (since, of course, as an Eagle Scout, I would never get "lost").

To my great relief about two days before I was to travel from Korea to Japan, I received assurance that a dear and faithful sister from Tokyo would plan to meet me upon my arrival at Narita and serve as my guide to get me where I needed to go.  It is hard for me to express the peace that flooded my heart and mind when I knew that I would not have to rely upon my own efforts to read and follow a map (and an excellent map at that) but I could rest in the presence of my guide who had promised to be with me along the way.

In fact, my guide enabled me to understand the instructions I had been given and encouraged me to ride the express train that was headed for Tokyo Station.  I didn't hesitate when she promised to meet me again further down along the way she had set me upon. 

Caleb's words had proved true once again.  "You don't need a map when you have a guide."

"In paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them."
Isaiah 42:16

Fuji Mountain's Majesty

Over the past five days, I have had the privilege of visiting Japan and attending a wonderful conference for missionaries and church planters. The conference was held at the Fuji Hakone Land Hotel, and this was the view of Mt. Fuji from the conference grounds. I felt beckoned each day to stay outside as I was transfixed by the mountain’s majesty.

I was invited to the conference by Laurie Siemers, my good friend and colleague from West Hills, our home church back in St. Louis. The church sends several people to serve with folks from churches in Virginia, Florida and a few other locales who together make-up the U.S. volunteer support team. The team handles the conference logistics as well as putting on a full children's ministry VBS-styled program for the missionary kids.

It’s a wonderful opportunity to serve those on the mission field and to encourage them in deed and in truth. (1 John 3:18). I met both young and seasoned missionaries from the States. In particular, I was greatly impressed by two young couples who had recently arrived in Japan and are currently in language training school. Their commitment and devotion to God's call upon their lives was a true challenge to my heart.

I also met several missionaries and seminary professors who are Korean and are now serving in Japan. I learned in much more personal ways how God shows the reality of His love to the Japanese people by moving these Korean brothers and sisters to serve them when the history between Japan and Korean has been one filled with evil acts against Korean men, women and children by Japanese soldiers, especially during the period of occupation in the early part of the 20th century. God has enabled many Koreans to love and reach out with forgiveness to those who were once their enemies and oppressors.

So while my eyes were filled with the awesomely majestic views of Mt. Fuji and the gloriously gorgeous colors of the autumn landscapes, my heart was even more encouraged by the dedication and devotedness of fellow followers of Christ who have heeded His call upon their lives and are now seeking to respond each day to the challenges of life in a culture that is in many ways is even more individualistic and self-focused than the ways of the West.

I will lift up my eyes unto the hills . . .

An Occasion to Teach

If you speak English and you are a teacher here in Korea, you will most likely be presented with regular requests to teach those who are interested in learning the language. This is especially true if your aspiring students are children and the one making the request is their parent or, even better, their Sunday School teacher.

Such was the case when I was invited a few weeks ago to give a short talk to the "Kids English Bible Study" (KEBS) at The Joyful Church, one of the largest congregations in Pohang.  The kids were great, and the teachers were very appreciative of a native English-speaker coming to the class and sharing time with their students. 

I was invited back this past Sunday, and have now been asked to give regular (twice-a-month) talks on the Bible lessons the children are studying (Cain and Abel was yesterday morning's story) as well as visit with the small groups of students from 8 to 12 years old, who are more advanced in their English language skills. 

My experiences teaching the KEBS kids have taken me all the way back to my days as a summer camp counselor and the initial stages of my teaching career that began in a small private elementary school. I'm reminded of those early years when I was first hearing the call and being encouraged by others to teach.

So, whether its in the lecture halls at the university through the week or down in the Bible School classroom on Sunday mornings, I sense a strengthening and renewal of my call each time I'm provided an occasion to teach.

Reformation Day

I asked my students here at Handong a question yesterday. What is significant about the date October 31? The Korean Fall Thanksgiving had been celebrated weeks ago. Another festival was soon to come next week, but October 31, what's special about that day? Many of the students had a puzzled look on their faces.

I then added to the month and day the year 1517. Now, a few faces brighten! One student spoke softly, "Martin Luther." (That's often the way an answer initially comes, first tentatively and then, after a word of encouragement, with more confidence).

"That's right! What did Luther do on October 31, 1517?"

"He nailed that paper to the church door."

"Correct! And, why did he nail that paper on which he had written those 95 statements, the 95 Theses, to the church door in Wittenburg, Germany? Why would you post a list of thesis statements -- you know what a thesis statement is -- its a statement of your main point -- Why would Luther post a list of 95 statements of truth that he was declaring were very important? Was it so that everyone would read them and take them to be true on their face?"

At this point in the class, some of my more perceptive students were beginning to catch on. They realized that I was giving them an historical example of the foundational practice upon which our classroom lessons and discussion are based. And, while they were not previously aware of the process of calling for a disputation that was the common practice in Luther's day, they surmised that his posting of the 95 Theses was an invitation for others to examine Luther's ideas and to engage in a debate.

By posting his 95 Theses, Luther was calling into question the authority of the church to use the practice of purchasing indulgences as a means for obtaining forgiveness of sins as well as challenging many other teachings and practices on the grounds that they were contrary to Holy Scripture. Luther was doing what my students hear as an admonition at the conclusion of each of our class sessions. He was: Questioning everything and seeking to hold on to the good!

To read Luther's 95 Theses go here

What is the Call on Your Life?

On Wednesday this week, I was given the privilege of addressing our Handong students, both Korean and International, who gather for a weekly English chapel service. My theme was "Tearing Off the Mask".


prof. Schulten from younghoon Mok on Vimeo.

Be Ready to be Interrupted

I've been slowly re-reading Bonhoeffer's Life Together over the past few weeks, and just encountered this admonition:

We must be ready to allow ourselves to be interrupted by God. God will be constantly crossing our paths and canceling our plans by sending us people with claims and petitions. We may pass them by, preoccupied with our more important tasks, as the priest passed by the man who had fallen among thieves, perhaps -- reading the Bible. When we do that we pass by the visible sign of the Cross raised athwart our path to show us that, not our way, but God's way must be done.

I've only been here a little more than two months, but I've already developed plans and even, in many cases, such a tight schedule that when something interrupts, I'm quickly put-off. I wish I could say that I've acquired a deeper mindfulness of others while among my brothers and sister here in the East, but sadly my German-rootedness (not rudeness, but rooted-ness) still seems to be quite dominant in my fixing objectives for each day that too often leave little room for anything or anyone who is not "on the schedule."

Life is not smoother when you allow for interruptions -- you may find yourself walking across campus (as I did yesterday) only to hear your name being called by a student running up to you from behind. He then follows on closely the entire way to your office all the while throughout the course of your journey peppering you with questions about his future interests in international human rights advocacy.

Then, continuing his inquiries, he remains engaged in conversation with you for nearly as long as you had thought it would take to complete the composition of the exam you are scheduled to give to your Survey of American Law students later in the week. So, rather than completing that exam-writing task you had on your personal docket for the afternoon, you pray you have encouraged your young aspiring human rights advocate and hopefully have offered him some helpful advice.

Many of my good and faithful friends back in the States frequently remind me that: "You need to say 'no' more often." And, while I will grant the wisdom of that rebuke when it comes to requests for my participation in administrative task forces, academic committee-work or even some ministry invitations (usually delivered on short-notice), I'm finding that when I seek to be fulfilling the call to teach, I need to be evermore mindful of brother Bonhoeffer's instruction: Allow yourself to be interrupted.

Near Disaster . . . Averted

I've recently found that for me there are two things that definitely do not mix -- a microwave with its control panel labelled in Korean and watching a classic comedy film on your laptop across the room. Here's the scene, I had placed a packet of Orville Redenbacher's Gourmet Popping Corn (that I'd picked up last weekend in Daegu at the only Costco in this part of the country) in the microwave, punched a few buttons that I believed would provide sufficient time for the packet to pop, and then walked over to my laptop and searched out "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" on YouTube.

It's quite amazing how engrossed a person can get into British humor! The film clip ran only 10 minutes, but that was more than enough time for my LG microwave to consume and nearly catch on fire that bag of Orville Redenbacher's! I had thought all would be well since the buttons I pushed had set the timer for only 6 minutes, 30 seconds. In my past experiences trying to pop corn in this particular microwave, I had pushed some buttons and it had taken a total of more than 6 1/2 minutes just to partially pop the packet.

What I did not realize, however,(its a terrible thing when you can't speak or understand the language of those around you; it is even worse, though, when you cannot read that language) was that the buttons I had pushed before set the microwave to half power. What I had just pushed set the same amount of time but activated the maximum power that little LG can muster! While the bag was being microwaved, my attention was drawn deeper and deeper into Pythonesque witty banter, and my hoots and howls of laughter were evidently drowning out any beeps or bells that the microwave was emitting.

It was not until I smelled the smoke and sensed that the room was filling with a denseness that I finally ran over to fling the microwave's door open, snatch the smoking bag just before it burst into flames and throw it into the sink where I doused it with water for a good three minutes. Once I was sure the bag was thoroughly extinguished, I opened windows in both back and front of the apartment (in spite of the cool fall temp's) and placed an oscillating fan on high in the middle of the room in a futile effort to exhaust the smoke that, by this time, had saturated the apartment and was beginning to infiltrate my neighbors' units.

Thankfully, no one else was around on Saturday night except the lone hermit who inhabits my room. Everyone else had much more interesting things to do than watch Monty Python on YouTube. Needless to say, I did not eat any popcorn while watching the remainder of the film. Instead, I was thankful that I was not cleaning up a much better mess, and even more grateful that my near disaster had been graciously averted.

[For your enjoyment I've included one of the best scenes from the film. WARNING: DON'T put any popcorn in the microwave!]