Halfway through and still Learning

Tuesday of this week marked the midway point in my first semester of teaching here at Handong. Time, indeed, does keep marching on. All the more need to take heed to Mr. Keating's maxim in Dead Poet's Society (one of my favorite films) -- Carpe Diem! If there is one continuing life lesson that is regularly impressed upon my thinking here, it is the importance of making the most of each opportunity that you are granted -- that's it: "To Seize the Day!"

And by that I mean not just in the sense of seizing the "big opportunity" to spend a year teaching abroad at a global university -- but even more so, to make the most of those "small opportunities" that come our way each day -- to answer a student's questions about seeking admission at a law school in the States; to write a letter in support of another student's application for a scholarship to a special international summer program in Norway; or, just to listen and give a few words of counsel and encouragement when my teaching assistant is expressing his concerns over the way he has been unfairly treated by another international faculty member.

I must confess. I still feel largely isolated here. No matter how much I have tried to assimilate into the international faculty and into the community of the university as a whole, it appears that I still end up spending large blocks of my time alone. This week, I even went over to the International Law School's (HILS) Wednesday chapel, but found that many of the students and most of the faculty do not attend this service since it is not required of them.

The low attendance at this HILS midweek gathering reminded me somewhat of my own missed opportunities to attend daily worship in morning chapel services when I was studying at Concordia Seminary these past few years. Once I started going, I realized just how much I had indeed been missing of the formative experiences that shape us as a person both individually and in community.

One of the HILS faculty members who saw me walking up the hall commented, "Well, we just don't see you very much around here." (That's right, I'm on the undergraduate law faculty and my office is in another building and my classes are conducted on different floors from the elevated spaces of HILS). Then, I responded, "That's why I determined to be intentionally present at your chapel service today." He cringed and admitted that he would not be attending due to his heavy workload. (I thought that was the purpose of having a time of community worship in the middle of the work day -- to let your work be and acknowledge the One without whom nothing can be done! John 15:5 -- sorry, I've gone to preaching).

There are a few exceptions. Wednesday evening I was invited by my dear colleague Gayle to enjoy a grilled chicken salad with her. She's 73 and taught at U.Cal. Berkley for eight years as well as at a number of other lesser known institutions of higher learning throughout her long career. And now, although she is near the end of that long road, she decided to come to Korea and teach English at Handong this year. She really is an amazing woman! She is sort of the alter ego of Prof. SK.

Earlier in that day, I had asked Gayle if she might help me with my German studies and translation efforts. She was thrilled since her first degree is in German linguistics and she taught German for those eight years at Berkley. (I need to ask her when she was there; it might have been around the same time that Dr. Leary -- Timothy, that is -- was there, too). So now we have a regular meeting scheduled each Wednesday afternoon at 5. I'll need to have my lesson prepared and my translation in order. (Did I say what we would be translating from the German? -- Well, Bonhoeffer, of course! Letters and Papers from Prison).

So the semester is half-passed, and I'm still trying to find my way in this new world. Rather than having any big expectations of others, I simply need to trust each step to His continued guidance and, by His grace, make the most of each opportunity that I encounter along the way.

"My one command . . . is this: Listen to my voice, then I will be your God and you will be my people. In everything, follow the way that I mark our for you, and you shall have success."
(Jeremiah 7:23 NJB)

An Evening in Daegu

I don't "get out" much these days since I am, in many ways, nearly cloistered off in a hermitage when not teaching in the classroom or preparing to teach while in my study (a much better term than "office" to describe the space in which I do my work here). But there are a few occasions for some broader cultural enrichment.

One of those opportunities came this past weekend when I accompanied Abraham Lee, Director of the University's Office of International Affairs (that's Abraham on the far left in our little group photo), his staff and three international students to a musical performance at a newly constructed opera house on the campus of one of Handong's sister universities located in the city of Daegu -- about a one hour drive from Pohang.

It proved to be a delightful evening at the theater. The performance was Jekyll and Hyde, the musical. The acting troop was from the States so everything -- dialogue and songs -- was in English! Though I was familiar with the plot line from Robert Louis Stevenson's novel, I was quite pleasantly surprised by the quality of the musical's script, set design and overall production.

On the whole, the performance was a powerful statement about the inadequacy of science to resolve the deepest problems facing humanity. Dr. Jekyll's scientific experiments could not overcome the struggles between good and evil within him. Indeed, apart from his pleas to God, Jekyll could not find an antidote against the human harm and deadly actions perpetrated by the evil Mr. Hyde.


If the musical comes to the Fox in St. Louis, I would strongly recommend your attending and enjoying the performance as I did during a delightful evening in Daegu.

Consider the Birds of the Air . . . and also the Bugs Beneath

If we are instructed to consider the birds of the air and by so considering them, learn some of the most basic and important lessons of life, it would seem to be appropriate to re-direct this process of observation and learning from the skies overhead to the dirt beneath our feet. And, as birds inhabit the air above us, so too do insects thrive upon the grass and ground below.

Which insect would you think I see most often as I walk across campus and hike up into the hills surrounding Handong? Let's make this a multiple-choice question (that's what most of my students here are most happy to find on their examination papers). Would you say its a(n):

A) Ant
B) Beetle
C) Butterfly
D) Dragonfly
E) Praying Mantis
F) Some other insect

Okay ... I threw that last choice in for fun just to start you thinking about how many other kinds of insects you could name. So now that I've narrowed the choices to five, which one do you think is most common in these parts of Korea at this time of the year? As I recall my experiences in high school biology, I remember how I searched fields and hills alike for large variety of insects during September and October in Missouri so that I might fill a large display box.

The most prominent insect in my Missouri collection of autumn insects was the butterfly -- probably about six or seven different species, as well as a few moths for good measure. I always loved the butterflies, not only for their diverse designs of beauty, but also because of their formation through metamorphosis. They are a constant reminder that beauty arises out of the most unexpected of conditions and the most unlikely of characteristics.

So, with this past experience to guide me, wouldn't it seem most likely that the most common insects that I might find here would also be butterflies? You would think so; I thought so, but my experiences have proven different. I have seen a few butterflies and even more beetles, but the most common sights of all, nearly every day as I walk about, are the abundance of dragonflies! There are literally everywhere.

It may very well be that the autumn is one of the seasons when dragonflies mate. I don't know; I have some research to do on that. But, the question that presents itself to me is: what life lesson do the dragonflies teach? I'm pondering that one. Initially, I've observed that I rarely see just one dragonfly. I nearly always see two, three or more dragonflies in close proximity to one another. That would seem to remind us of the importance of community -- of life together with others.

I'll think some more on this subject and relate my thoughts in later posts.

And, by the way, which of the five do you think is the insect I've observed most often after the dragonflies?

Here's a hint -- its not butterflies.

More to follow . . .

Is There a Universal Language?

Is there a medium of communication understood by all humans? How about all living beings? Is there a way of conveying meaning to others that can be apprehended by others no matter where you are or who you are with? For a stranger, a foreigner, an alien in a strange, foreign and alien land this is a persistent question. The type of question that keeps coming back and confronting you in the face of your on-going life experiences.

When your TA ("Teaching Assistant" also means for me, "Translation Assistant") is not at your side, you quickly reach the point where you are desperately searching for a medium of common communication -- a universal means of conveying meaning. My nine weeks here in Korea have convinced me that the answer to this perplexing question is not found in any naturally spoken human language -- that's right, not even Esperanto!

What I'm finding, though, is that there is a universal language, and it is the universe itself. Those things in the universe around us -- both near by in nature and far out in space -- we see, we hear, we apprehend (and by we I mean all humans no matter your country of citizen or ethnicity) what all of us need to see, to hear, to apprehend. And, by looking and listening to what surrounds us all and what we all share, we can experience a common means of communication.

One of the best examples of this universal reality is music -- and yes, some of you, my regular readers, may be asking right now, has the drum and cymbal corps begun another evening rehearsal? They have. -- But, it is not particular styles of music that I'm talking about, it is the human activity of making (or attempting to make)music that expresses this universality of meaning that is found in the universe itself.

Music is apart of the universe that is. Some have suggested that music is the artistic expression of the science of mathematics displaying the purpose, order and design that characterizes the universe that is. So, music may be one of the media for convey meaning and delight to ourselves and to others. True enough, you may respond that music as an expression may display dissonance and irresolution.


There is, though, music that will attract and delight humans no matter what their culture may be. It is music that displays the wonder of the universe in the same way that a glorious sunset delights all who witness it. It is music that expresses the wonder of life even as a blooming flower or the autumn blaze of colors across a hardwood valley. I hear this music in the songs that resonate through Handong's halls and hills.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.

There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.

(Psalm 19:1-4)

Pondering the Persistent Questions of Life

A few weeks back, I was asked by KWMU - St. Louis Public Radio - to put together a brief statement about how I use the information I glean from listening to their programming in my classroom instruction. I've been a listener to NPR for more than 20 years.

It all started with my introduction to Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion during my early years of law practice. It has grown into a daily habit of to Morning Edition and All Things Considered, as well as the BBC during the night time hours -- which are now daytime for me here as I listen via the Internet.

Follow this link to St. Louis Public Radio's website and you'll be able to listen to the audio file for the spot:
http://www.stlpublicradio.org/support/mysource.php
Check under the heading: "St. Louis Public Radio is My Source for . . . "

The Beat of Drums and Clash of Cymbals

I have been told that it often takes some time to grow accustomed to a new culture, a new country, a new community. Often usual customs of the local people present challenges to one unaccustomed to their practices. One such custom here in Korea is the playing of traditional drums and cymbals. In a few weeks, the students of Handong will celebrate a festival. One of the highlights of the festival is traditional drumming, cymbals and the accompanying dance.

In order to prepare for this festival, a group of about 20 students have begun practicing the drumming and cymbal crashing outside the back of the Student Center under the large canopy. The structure of the Student Center forms sort of a amphitheater that resonates any sounds that are produced within it. This effect becomes particularly reverberating when the drum and cymbal corp commence there rehearsal.

It started last evening about 8pm. It continued -- constantly -- with the same recurring rhythm and clashing -- loud pounding -- and pronounced clashing -- until after 11pm. My apartment in the Mission House is within 100 yards of the area of the Student Center where the "rehearsal" was taking place. Needless to say, I was not able to even think about sleep until after the numbing drumming and clashing cymbals ceased.

While I sat and listened to the recurring rhythms, I was reminded of a story that my son Caleb told me from his experiences living among the Yanamamo Indians in the south of Venezuela. The young men of the community began preparing one night for a hunt. The preparation ritual involved their gathering around a large fire with drums and dancing. The partying continued to three days and nights before the young men (with Caleb tagging along) departed for the hunt.

As Caleb first reported this account in his email to us, he reminded us that teenagers are the same all over the world. They all enjoy the strong rhythms of the drum, dancing and a never-ending party. Well, Caleb's assessment of the young Yanamamo seems to hold true for the youth of Korea also -- at least here on the campus of Handong. So evidently, I will need to adjust my sleeping schedule or pull out my trusty ear plugs (an item every world traveler needs to have readily at hand -- another lesson I've learned from my son Caleb).

In any case, I am beginning, with a large measure of grace, to grow accustomed to their sound. I take some solace in knowing that even the Lord enjoins his congregation to:

Praise him with tambourine and dance;
praise him with strings and pipe!
Praise him with sounding cymbals;
praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

Psalm 150:4-5

Put Another Star on the Calendar!

By the grace of God and the goodness of my brother Harry Jee, I accomplished another first today. I must readily admit that it was not as "Korean" as my first taste of kimchi a few weeks back, but on the other hand, it was just as dangerous, or even more so. Today, I drove for the first time -- and the drive was not just around campus, but along the winding country-side roads from Handong south to Pohang.

So, I borrowed David Mundy's Hyundai Accent (GM's and Ford's are a bit rare in these parts -- in any case, I had no interest in drawing attention to the car that this foreigner was driving), picked-up my new colleague, Dr. Harry Jee, and we were off. I introduced you to Harry several weeks back (read more). We are both new faculty here at Handong this semester, although he has a definitive advantage over me -- he's a native-born Korean and speaks his first language quite well even though he's been in the States for the past two decades. Evidently, speaking one's mother-tongue is much like riding a bike -- you never quite forget how to do it, and once you pick it up again, things just start rolling along.

So too with driving a car -- I hadn't been behind the wheel of any vehicle for over eight weeks. Even in my advanced state of age, I imagine it would take a little more than two months to rob me of sufficient recollections necessary to operate a car. I'm just thankful the Accent was an automatic and not a manual. Had I needed to clutch and shift, that would have presented a problem. I've never been very good at a standard transmission. Just ask my son, Justin.

The drive actually went quite smoothly. I only made one wrong turn on the way to the restaurant, and then, after a few trips around the blocks nearby, I finally spotted my landmark -- two golden pigs atop the gateway entrance to an apartment parking garage. Next door was the Chinese restaurant I was looking for. Harry was quite impressed that I had found the place. All along, he was thinking that he would have to find a place for us to lunch after I had finally given-up on my search.

We enjoyed a fine feast on sweet and sour pork (which I ate, mind you, with chop sticks, no less) and then, topped off our luncheon by sipping several cups jasmine tea. Now satisfied, we set off on our return trip to Handong's campus. Harry suggested that I take the new highway back, and I did not hesitate to heed his challenge. I was quite confident that this Eagle Scout could find his way anywhere even in Pohang, Korea.

Well . . . after making a couple of circles around the new district of the city where our restaurant was located, I decided to venture out on one particular road and began to see some landmarks that looked somewhat familiar. We were indeed on our way toward the new highway that led back toward the campus. We discovered, though, that the exit off the new highway that was suppose to connect to the road in front of Handong was not yet completed and thus, we were now on our way toward the Sea and the new port.

At the last intersection before entering the port authority, we made a right turn that turned out to be right as it led us back toward the winding road we had traveled on our way out to lunch. The trip out from campus had taken about 15 minutes. The trip back, took over 30, but we did make it back! The old saying still holds true: A boy scout is never lost, only a mite bewildered.