South Africa III

I started working on this one on a word document a few days ago, so it's totally out of date, and my thinking has been modified by what has occurred subsequently, as it continues to do as I've been reflecting some more. This was my thinking on the Friday night:
I think I should probably relate a day if that helps at all to try to start to frame the discourse that has been going on. Why the Friday? Frankly, the first bit of the Congress seems so long ago now it’s hard to remember details - the long days, the numbers of people, the amount of mind-blowing is hard to detail. It seems, in many ways, that I have been here a very long time and have changed profoundly in many ways just from these few days away.
Friday, we started with Bible study, exposition and discussion from Ephesians, done by a fairly conservative guy, but his exposition was actually quite good and impactful.
However, this was followed up with an aggressive, urgent demand to individually commit to a UPG. Irrespective of what one’s agency focuses on, based on little knowledge of the individual UPGs, and only given four minutes to fill out the commitment form, it felt very rushed and aggressive.
This was followed by a lunch debrief with some Canadian friends on the delegation because of other issues that have come up over the course of the Congress. Solid guys. It was really good in sitting with them and talking about our uncomfortableness and our dis-ease with the nature of the discourse going on here. It was encouraging to sit with men who agreed that there are discourses and frames here that aren’t ringing true, that verge on unrighteous and narrow in their scope. I couldn’t bring myself to attend another unsatisfying multiplex and deal with sessions that would just tear my hair out, so God rescued me from that by having me bump into one of our young aboriginal leaders who was on his way to meet with a Latin American leader that I had planned to have supper with anyways. So off we went to find her, where she was in a car with a South African activist, when they told us to hop into the car for an “alternative Congress”. We hop into the car, thinking we were just going to hang out in a café and discuss theology and kingdom. Instead, off we went to the townships, seeing how the church is there as well, how poverty and spirituality and weakness and beauty all collide uncomfortably in the metal shacks of black South Africa. It was just about what I needed at this point in the Congress.
Back to supper, where talking with a Latin American about her struggles to see how this Congress has been relevant to her national discourse and to mine. That was also helpful to see how we wanted to push the boundaries of the discourse beyond the narrow worldview of traditional conservative American evangelicalism. Afterwards, another friend related how he had gone to a session that was dealing with the global trends facing the church over the next decade, listing items such as pornography in the top ten. He had asked at the end of the presentation why issues such as global poverty and economic inequity were not counted amongst the top ten issues facing the church today, yet pornography managed to make the list, with which he was completely dismissed and didn’t even have his comment acknowledged as a point to be made.
Encouragingly, the evening session was a celebratory service, focusing on Africa; it’s hard for it not to be celebratory if the African continent is involved.

South Africa II

I think, for some, being here would be like dying and going to heaven. And in some ways, it does reflect that: many different tongues and nations are all here for the same purpose. It has been quite something to be in this place with people from over 200 nations. Every time you turn around, there is someone else from somewhere else, being someone incredibly exciting, and doing something incredibly exciting,
The other day, I was invited to the Asian-American party which was fun (though brief; most of us can barely get through the very long days!), though funny as how distinct we are as peoples one from the other. They thought I talked too softly - for those of you who know me, you have got to realize how funny that sounds...
It has been very challenging for me, certainly, in reconsidering where on the spectrum of evangelization vs. social justice I sit, and perhaps, where I should be sitting.
However, there has been a darker side to all of this. One of my friends here, I think has articulated it much better than I on his blog, but I can really only try to encapsulate it here. There has been much talk about how great the growth and vibrancy of the Global South has been, and how they, as the majority church now, have a right to be at the table. However, in form and content, though it tries to be inclusive, it is not. There is marginalization manifested in many ways at this congress, not just in terms of Global North/South relations, but across many other relationships that need desperate, deep, genuine reconciliation. To be fair, I think there are honest attempts in grace, but I think there are still so many different barriers and obstacles that the church still needs to overcome in order to demonstrate to the world that we are unified and that we love one another deeply.
This has been troubling my soul, over and over, for the past few days, and were it not for the fact that I verge on exhausted all the time, it would be lead me to question the nature of my faith.
However, a brief word of encouragement from a brother in Indonesia helps. A brother in Canada with a listening ear helps. A sister from Scotland helps. A brother from Sri Lanka helps. A brother in Haiti helps. A sister in Argentina helps. And this is where grace comes in. And where my soul, etched with the conviction that systemic and infrastructural evil needs to be abolished, finds solace.

South Africa I

So here I am in South Africa and the buzz here is amazing! To this point, I've mainly been acting as tourist, though the game starts in earnest today.
I've done the typical touristy things here - gone to the Cape of Good Hope, visited Robben Island and the top of Table Mountain, etc., as any good tourist is supposed to do. Have been cooking dinners for good friends, and having a good time catching up with people from all over the world. It was funny; I thought I'd be a tiny fish in a very large sea (and, in many ways, I certainly am), but it turns out that many familiar faces are here in Cape Town, and though many of them are incredibly busy arranging meetings with their colleagues from across the globe, it is still reassuring to see their faces.
Yesterday was an orientation session for the small group leaders. As a small microcosm of what will start today, it was amazing! 600 of the delegates gathered, committing ourselves to help care for our small groups, help lead discussion and return feedback to those who will be writing the consensus statements. Hearing us all, from hundreds of nations across the globe, singing hymns was rousing, and realizing that I am sitting amongst GIANTS in their home nations, astounds me! Every single delegate at the Congress is this amazing, gifted, talented, passionate leader of the global church, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed to stand amongst such people!
It is a bit funny though; it's been hard to find people "like me" so far, but, by God's grace, it will happen. In that, I mean people who are clearly in the secular domain of life, and have little to nothing to do with faith-based ministry on a day to day basis. I love all the people who I know who work so tirelessly and unselfishly to do the various aspects of ministry that they are involved in, be it research, data gathering, strategic thinking, vision-casting, preaching, teaching or writing, but I am hoping that I will be able to find the people, like myself, that make up the body of believers that aren't involved in those aspects of church building.
Listening to some of my friends discuss their work in ministry with each other is admittedly intimidating. It almost makes me wish I had a doctor, or a foodie, around to talk about issues that I would have a better grip on, compared to diaspora ministry, UPGs, census taking, truth paradigms, etc etc.
At any rate, this morning I will be celebrating the Lord's Day with friends at Archbishop Desmond Tutu's church (gasp! I hear some people say - why on earth would you attend an Anglican church service?). Well, because St George's was brave enough to stand against the atrocities of apartheid, and was one of the nerve centres for the Marches of Peace in the late 1980s that helped lead to the downfall of apartheid. That's why. Breaking bread with those who have such strong bonds with the dark days of the past and with the need for hope for the future will be a deep honour.
To be honest, I am not sure how much time I will have to post during the Congress - days run from 0730 hrs till 2300 hrs daily! I suspect I will be tired, but happy. Missing all of you desperately, but with a glad heart that I have much family here.

Pre-Cape Town

As per usual, I'll be posting from my voyage abroad. This one will probably be the first where I will predominantly spending time sitting in hotel and convention centre rooms for a whole month. So rather than "seeing" things (I can't believe I've been to the continent of Africa so many times and have not yet seen any elephants, and this trip will also be no exception to that rule), I'll probably be more likely reporting on what I've learned.
Two very large and important learning points, actually. The first will be the Congress, which most of the family would know well what that encompasses. And, I have to take back some of my snark from a few days ago - I still feel mostly that my local church still has no idea what the heck I'm going to (despite having had 14 months to start to figure it out), but at least they're glad I'm going to 'whatever the heck you're going to'. The second is a leadership development program that I'm in, started initially by the Rockfeller Foundation after UN Congress in Rio in 1992 to counter climate change. The Rockfellers aren't as involved in it as they used to be, but its goal is to train leaders in business, the academy, government, etc to develop skills necessary to coordinate and think about combatting climate change. The international component of the program is, providentially, in the same country as the Congress, within a week of each other. Very providential, as I didn't have to fly to two different countries just to go to conferences.
So that's it, for now. Not looking forward to a two day journey just to get all the way there, but am looking forward to a brief respite in the UK, and spending it with friends for a day before heading onwards.

Calling 911

Fortunately, it's not often that I end up calling 911. I am, however, incredibly grateful for the 24/7 hard work and dedication of the dispatchers, police, paramedics and firefighters who end up responding to calls.
I kind of feel sorry for them, however, when I do end up calling them, since it's usually things that are totally random. Like tonight. Driving home only the DVP, I happen to pass by a cyclist. On the shoulder of the highway. Without lights (or a helmet, for that matter, but basically, without lights, he was almost invisible). Not even close to a semi-intelligent idea.
So I call the dispatcher: "Um, excuse me, but I just drove by a cyclist on the DVP. I don't think he should be there. It's probably dangerous."

Feeling like a Galilean...

A week from now, I'll be on a plane heading out to South Africa via the UK. Joyously, it will be to meet with many of the brilliant minds of the church to discuss issues and confront challenges both within and without in the coming years. It's terribly exciting to think of the people I'll be rubbing shoulders with, the voices from all over the world and the renewed vision and zeal for the Kingdom that will arise from this family gathering.
People around me have been getting excited as well, and hurriedly asking me what else is left, how am I doing, what's going to happen. Churches have been asking me how I can help liaise with them on their attempts to connect with what will be happening in real time, while I am there, and they are here.
Sadly, however, the only place where I have barely heard a peep is my own home church. My elders keep telling me that prophets are not welcome in their own hometowns, so this shouldn't surprise me at all. And it doesn't. Yet, for the past year, it has astounded me at the profound ignorance and apathy that has gripped my local family about this congress, about the issues and about what the rest of the global family is thinking and doing. For a church that claims that it is missions-minded, it has obstinately chosen to navel-gaze, choosing not to participate in where we are going, what we are thinking and who we are becoming, staying in its time-warped and ethnocentric views of the world. Sigh.
Some of these other churches and people cannot believe that my church hardly cares that I'm going. They tell me how they wish they, or someone from their congregations, were going, and how they'd give eye-teeth to do so. I can believe it, sadly.
So it's slightly bitter-sweet, my getting on this plane. The family that greets me on the other side looks to greater things, and His greater glory. The family I leave behind will likely hardly notice I left, and likely will not care about the greetings and urgings that our relatives will urgently send back with me from Africa.

Farmer's almanac

I guess part of the problem of being a dreamer is crashing and burning when reality smacks you in the face.
Case in point: I'm even getting jaded by the quirky and peculiar people of my little rural town.
Now, I'm not sure if it's me, or if it's just that simply that society has gotten more petulant, but, for highlights:

One man came into my emergency department (I'm going to emphasize this was an emergency department in a hospital; not a walk-in clinic, not a family practice clinic) telling me he hadn't had a poo in about 16 hours, basically since the night before.
"Besides," said he, "you guys are here anyways, so I thought I'd check."
"Well sir," I replied, "technically, I am only here to care for emergencies."
"This IS an emergency!" quoth he.
Suffice it to say, I quickly dispatched him from the emergency room. I warned the nurses if he showed up again, I'd give him a bowel prep, and will forever banish the notion of his being constipated ever again.

Another brought her adult daughter with a long-standing seizure disorder, worried that she was "about" to have a seizure... over the past eight hours. Wanted to 'drop her off' so our nurses could watch her overnight, 'just in case'. Ridiculous, thought I; my RNs are not Registered Nannies. Speaking to the adult daughter, who felt unwell, but certainly not definitely pre-seizure, was annoyed that her "overprotective" mother brought her in without asking her opinion on the matter - she herself felt well enough to manage at home, and certainly didn't feel she needed to be in hospital - dispatch.

One woman brought in her teenage son, that, not only had he already seen his family doctor several days before, and already had Xrays done, AND had another appointment with the family doctor the very next day, had a sore arm. Which was just a sore arm - dispatch.

The one legitimate thing I did deal with, however, was a true anaphylactic reaction - hives, swelling, throat closing, losing air, the whole kit and kaboodle. And it was great, cause we saved him (Though, admittedly, if the patient had been actually carrying an Epipen around with him and had been using it, it likely wouldn't have been as dramatic).

Another great interaction that I had was completely unexpected. One woman, who had gone for her routine mammogram a month ago, had been called back for special views, some unusual masses were seen, and it was recommended that she go for biopsy of those masses. I stepped in at this part of the story, so I arranged for her biopsies to be done on a semi-urgent basis. The patient then wanted to come in to speak to me. "Oh no," I thought, "she's going to rant and rave about how slow and incompetent I and the system are, or she's going to freak out and blubber all over me about how she's going to die, or something to that effect along that spectrum. Great."
Turns out, she was the first EVER rational patient that I've seen in this scenario. She's leaving for a short vacation tomorrow, so isn't able to accommodate a biopsy to be done for another week and a half. She feels that she would like to go on vacation anyways, as she figures, it's already been a month in the making anyways, and besides, if it does turn out to be bad news, she would have rather have gone on vacation while she still could. RATIONAL! Loved it. Cringing all the way to the clinic door, and finding a rational patient inside was a complete revelation.
But the story turns yet again; she then informs me that her faith is stronger than illness, and she is willing and able to handle whatever God throws her way - bravo for her! I then also reminded her that illness and death are but temporary things, to which she agreed and was even more satisfied in her decision to go and enjoy her vacation with her family. Kudos to her; she single-handedly reminded me that, like pearls in mud, sometimes there are people out there that make sense in the world.

FFT

So, I realize that the weblink eventually may expire, so I thought I should re-print my article online for posterity's sake (I think they have the rights to the article for a certain amount of time, but as I'm not earning anything from posting, I think maybe this is OK?). The original link is at http://www.christianweek.org/stories.php?id=1012&cat=capetown2010 .

It is with surprise and delight that I find myself among the 50 delegates chosen to represent Canada at the upcoming Lausanne Congress for World Evangelization in Cape Town, South Africa this fall. Standing amongst this country's leaders in evangelical ministry and mission, I often wonder how I could have possibly ended up with such an illustrious group.

Certainly, my work is most definitely secular. My practice as a physician, my advocacy as a food security and agricultural rights activist and my studies in global public health broaden the base from which I approach global issues and mission. I don't work in full-time ministry; I don't work as a long-term medical missionary, and I don't have any official theological training.

However, the global purposes of God's Kingdom still run through my veins as my very lifeblood, as it should invigorate and energize the entire Body in its identity and purpose. Hence, my presence signifies those of us in the Church who are not the clergy, nor in "ministry," but those in the flock who devotedly and wholeheartedly follow the Shepherd.

God's global purposes are vast. He cares about the spiritually lost to come to and reconcile with Him, but He also cares about His Kingdom Come on Earth, as it is in Heaven. Issues of injustice, poverty, the environment, slavery and the many imbalances between the Global North and the Global South are also Kingdom concerns. The face of the global church is changing, and we in the West need to respond to these changes with humility and grace, understanding that it can no longer be an us/them mentality in global mission, but the flowering of partnerships and being companions on the journey together.

There is also much brokenness within the Church, and brokenness without in the world. The Church needs to consider not only how to reconcile the brokenness within itself, but also how to demonstrate with fierce love the uniqueness of Christ in a pluralistic, multi-religious world.

This is why this upcoming Lausanne Congress is so critical in our times. We live in interesting times, indeed, and our God continues to work His purposes out and invites all of us to join Him. We, as a global family, with our brothers and sisters all across the globe, will symbolically come together in South Africa to reinforce our core beliefs as evangelicals, to envision the evangelistic task that remains and to humbly commit ourselves to lives that are fitting for both the slaves of Christ and the heirs of Christ.

Each Lausanne Congress has been a watershed moment in how the Church understands its calling into the world and has transformed the way that the Bride has gone to fulfill her purposes in it. I anticipate nothing less from this upcoming Congress; God will do great and wondrous things through His people who are called by His Name.

I expect that I will wrestle alongside leaders from across the globe with how the whole church can and should bring truth and justice to the nations, how wide the mandate and vision of the whole gospel is and just how big and how loved the whole world is. I hope this vision, brought back to the Canadian church, will inspire it onwards to greater passion and greater purpose.

We should all be excited and privileged to live in such times, to have such hope, to hold on to such treasure and to be allowed to share it with others.

The Lausanne Canada committee invites all Canadians to participate in the global conversation that is happening, even now, and into the Congress. Together, by conversing and learning from one another, we can start to catch a glimpse into the mighty purposes of God in our world today.

Inspiring stress

'Tis true: going to graduate school is quite a different phenomenon than undergraduate. Seeing as this is the first time (because I'm not promising it'll be the last!) around the graduate merry-go-round, this is interesting coming at it with the other undergrad degrees under my belt. It is really superb to be talking to profs as human beings, and meeting for coffee and meals, which is totally unheard of at the undergraduate level (unless something really dicey is going on).
However, one thing that has been a bit humbling to experience is the awe that is assumed to be my due, which is crazy, 'cause I'm such a big clutzy loser. Yet, much is expected of me, and I have already been given much advice by faculty members who have told me to aim higher, aim closer, aim precisely as to what is expected of me.
How stressful! They do remind me, as I was already well aware, that my education and my background inherently make this degree qualitatively different than it does for every single other student in my school. This puts additional pressure that is starting to make me a bit antsy, and brings up bigger questions: What am I doing here? What is the purpose? What is The Purpose in being here, and how does it help Kingdom come about?

The First Day of School

Ahhhh, the newly sharpened pencils, brand new binders, a knapsack with Dora the Explorer cleverly going on an adventure on the front.... just kidding.
What it really looks like for me is lugging my laptop, water bottle and lunch bag downtown for my first day of school (again, for the umpteenth time)! It really was like the first day of high school, or something like that - it has been so long since I've had to have a 'first day of school', I'd forgotten what it was like. Certainly, in my program, 90% of us are women, so it's made early bonding way easier.
There is something inevitably exciting about starting a new school year, however. The possibilities seem endless, the opportunities abound, the thinking and knowledge and intellectual challenges required of me almost make me swoon with delight. Obviously, this time around, it's not going to be all beds of roses - there's slightly more at stake, I now have way more responsibilities and commitments than I ever did previously, and much is expected of me. Whoa. Well, one or two credits at a time, I keep saying to myself, plod along, keep cracking at it, and it'll be done wayyyy down the road.

Seek the welfare of that city

It's been a bit hectic, running from province to province in this country over the past few weeks. That being said, being most recently in Winnipeg had me reflecting with others on the raison d'être of the city.
It has seemed to be, at least among some segments of the people that I know in my own city and in other places in the country, those that are upwardly mobile in career aspirations and income, are gradually moving out to the suburban areas of the city. Others I know, who are much more diverse in their work, incomes, and forms of what "family" is defined as, are choosing to live, work and play in the urban areas of the city.
Yet another friend, who is intending to move back downtown to the city, after living in the suburbs for several years, has been strongly encouraged to stay in the suburbs, as it is "cheaper", "safer", "better property values"....
It begs several questions: Is the city simply a utilitarian vehicle, a place where you come to earn and spend money, but have no emotional investment in, have no civic engagement, cannot suffer with it, as you sleep and 'live your life' elsewhere? If so, then I have no issue with downtown workers living in suburban areas. However, if the city is something that you love, something whose welfare you seek, something whose people and issues and mess and diversity is something to embrace and cherish, then choosing to live elsewhere and ignore the needs and demands of the city, to me, is questionable.
It also asks: Is it really cheaper, safer, etc? Cheaper per square foot, perhaps, but cheaper in terms of transport, in terms of engagement with your neighbours, in terms of time spent going from place to place? From the census data, the only truly safe place to live in Toronto is in Rosedale/Bridle Path area, and everywhere else in the city has had crime in it. But (in terms of begging for more questions), is it the role of the Christian to choose not to live in those places, to flee to "safe", homogeneous areas, or, again, is it to suffer with and love the city?
It is understandable how buffoons like Rob Ford can pander to the electorate - by choosing to target the beautiful messiness of the city and to elevate and enshrine the entitlements of the suburbs, it speaks to those who, at bottom, do not consider themselves part of the lifeblood of the city.

I could do this for a living...

So this past week marks a few milestones for me: I've had my first article published, and my first paid gig as a speaker. That's pretty cool on several fronts.
Now, it wasn't some medical research paper published in a journal - that, I've done before. But it was a short article about missiology and changing norms in the evangelical world, so that was cool. They were even gracious enough to send me a few copies.
My second stint was at a conference/retreat this weekend, where I was asked to speak about the intersection between food and faith. That was also really cool. It was a basic international food justice issues 101, really, with a resounding reminder as to why the children of God must care about land, place and space. Not just caring about individual souls, but also for all of creation, as the "gospel... has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven."
I could seriously do this for a living. It is way more intrinsically interesting than clinical work.

Fishing the high seas or pillaging the oceans

I've been out of commission for a bit, for various reasons that I'm trying to shake off, though it's not working terribly well.
However, one thing that I have been doing is finally finishing various books sitting in my bookshelf that I have taken much time (years, in some cases) to actually complete.
One book that I'm working through is Taras Grescoe's BottomFeeder. This is all the more embarrassing in that I've actually met him, he's signed my copy of the book, and we've discussed fisheries. At any rate, I suppose some would say better late than never.
It's helped clarify some of my hesitation around the ethics of seafood, and reconfirmed my cessation of the eating of shrimp, salmon, cod, etc. Taras has, in fact, written a great book - what some call the Fast Food Nation (Eric Schlosser) of the sea. Incisively talking about the horrible effects of shrimp farms on the watersheds, mangrove forests and rice fields of India and Southeast Asia, let alone the lack of scruples in the processors in treating shrimp with Borax and other foul chemicals to keep them looking nice and pink and preventing them from rotting. The discussion around the Norwegians' treatment of the BC coastline for their salmon farms, and how they have destroyed their own coastlines, bringing them to come to BC to destroy ours. How Canada almost led the way to the razing of the oceans by our spectacular collapse of its cod industry 20 years ago. How the Chinese and the Japanese, if they don't start seriously thinking about their pillaging of the oceans, will eventually cause the destruction of their very cultures. It's quite chilling.
Ironically, I went to dinner with a friend recently, and they really wanted to eat sushi. The idea of this, though I previously loved eating sushi, and then, after that, became hesitant to go, now makes my stomach turn. I'm afraid I'm down to the vegetarian udon soups and vegetable maki at sushi restaurants in order to be responsible to my Creator and His creation...

I give you 50 cents, they give you 50 cents....

Now, one thing that is truly hysterical about Asians (myself included) is how far we will go to get a deal. Now, sometimes it veers into -this is not funny anymore, now you're just taking huge advantage over someone else- territory, but most of the time, it's just damn funny.
Point: one local theatre finished its new renovations and was offering "free" movies (though it was collecting donations for a charity of their choice) today. Well, guess what: it was packed with Asians. It was actually on the verge of ridiculous. Some of us met up in the line, and I got there a bit late due to bike troubles, but when I arrived there, no joke, 80% of the line up were Asian people. OK, one weekend before, they were hardly around for the G20 protests, but, oh man, you give them free stuff, and they'll be there on the double! Some had even arrived with their own portable chairs to sit in line, that's how hard core we're talking.
The first (yes, we saw a few - hey, it's free, what do you want us to do? We are what we are - shrug) movie we saw was "How to Train your Dragon" (which, btw, was incredibly cute, and now I want a dragon too), and we were literally swimming in a sea of Asians in the theatre. Which made us all laugh in our seats, seeing everybody else, just as we were, as we knew exactly why we were all there.
I am sad to report, however, a few other things of note. The donation box that was out in the lobby was not stuffed full as far as I could tell (which doesn't surprise me, considering the demographics of who showed up for the movies). Also, the second movie we saw was an environmental defence documentary, of which, contrastingly, we were the only Asians in the room. Both of those small, yet noticeable, things made me a bit sad about other tendencies that we tend to have as a large megabloc of people....

FFT

OK, this is actually a FFT that I wrote myself, but the protestors from the G20 summit have really riled me - this is the FB status that I posted yesterday, and that one friend pointed out was not unlike a 'reverse Beatitudes' - high praise indeed! :

[I am] now really angry at all the garbage happening in my city... praying that the police officers will be all able to safely return to their families when this is all over, BUT....
- for the police officers that are heavy-handed and overstepping their boundaries - shame on you.
- for the idiots who have come to my city and destroyed its downtown, burning cars (and exuding fossil fuels) and vandalizing buildings (requiring more resources to rebuild), you make me EMBARRASSED and ASHAMED to be part of the movement - shame on you.
-for the G20 leaders (who are having a likely delicious meal prepared by Ryan and his compatriots) who choose not to act justly in the interests of all peoples of the earth - shame on you.
- for all the poseurs and voyeurs who have just gone downtown to take photographs and videos but do NOTHING to protect our city - shame on you.
- for those who on the left who claim this will all be the police's, multinationals' and G20's fault - we all know this to be untrue - shame on you.
- for all the multinational corporations that continue to act in ways that provoke people to such anger in the first place - shame on you.
- for all the (predominantly) white college kids I'm seeing wandering around, pretending to represent the Global South and the desperately poor - how do you think you managed to fly all the way here and buy the items you needed to wreck my city?? - you do not actually stand for them- shame on you.
- for the media that is running around trying to get as much footage of burning cars and police action, reveling in the violence, but not sending us clear messages as to what the protests and the G20 are about - shame on you.
- for all of you jerky anti-social types that think that you can just cause chaos and ugliness just because you can - shame on you.
- for those of you who torched cars, only blocks away from where families I know LIVE with their CHILDREN - shame on you.
- for those of you who vandalized the CBC van - you (likely American) idiots - you just vandalized the public broadcaster, not a multinational news agency - you idiots - shame on you.
- for those of you who will say this is all Harper's fault - this is only partially true - and I will remind you that the creation of the G20 was a Liberal idea - the cancer is in ALL of us - shame on you.

Righteous anger

This weekend, the G20 meets in Toronto. Now, the origins of the G20, its mandate and purpose, and its methods are all very problematic. What they represent, indeed, is concerning for many people of the planet. They do choose to work outside of the United Nations, effectively weakening the UN and its mandate to represent the interests of all nations on the earth. I do think that their emphasis on economic growth (for themselves exclusively) and half-hearted attempts at dealing with urgent justice issues (like HIV/AIDS and maternal health) is focussed a bit wrongly.
I understand how there are many who are angry, though for a myriad of different reasons, at what the G20 represents: it represents disproportionate power and disproportionate wealth.
However, what has been going on for the past twenty-four hours makes my blood boil, and makes me embarrassed and ashamed that I would even label myself as part of the movement. I am sick of hearing stupid little college kids saying that they are standing in solidarity with the Global South, and that it's the multinationals who cause all the violence, so they are justified in breaking windows at Starbucks. Gimme a break. I am sick of the excuse that because it is 'their' fault, 'our' actions are justifiable.
I went to an anti-G20 rally yesterday, hoping to be inspired to seek a different, better world, but found that it was just railing against their perception of what reality is, but offering no real practical alternatives, and only offering that another world is inevitable, possible.
Bah. The cancer is in all of us. Watching people that had flown in from around the world, railing against the oil and gas companies made me realize the futility in that, if one is not willing to acknowledge the cancer is in you, too. Watching aboriginal leaders saying it is all the government's fault, but not taking some responsibility for their own communities. Watching labour leaders saying it is all the multinationals' fault, but not taking responsibility for their own actions that account for how well (or not) the company will run. Watching activists saying that everyone deserves to have a good job, but then refusing to acknowledge that business plays a role in people getting jobs.
Ultimately, of course, it is sin which is the cancer that lies in each of us. And ultimately, these policies, meetings, protests, etc, will lead to nothing until there is actual transformation of the human heart. Until we recognize that we are all in this together, and we cannot do it alone, not without God. Until we recognize that God has given us the right to have dignity, but also the responsibility to provide dignity to others.
Today shows the lack of dignity that everyone has shown to everyone else. And this breaks my heart; if the church had stepped in a few decades before and had used its voice to speak on behalf of the voiceless, we likely would not have gotten to this point. But the Body's silence also speaks volumes...

Makes you get all racist against redneck white trash, don't it??

I think I have to relegate it to my going through another bout of nightmares, and being over-tired to reacting so emotionally today.
It's quite a common occurrence for health care staff to get verbally abused by patients - it's par for the course, and eventually you kind of get immune to all the complaints and yelling. Today was no different - we had a patient who had been waiting for 90 minutes in the emergency dept (I'm going to point out they'd only waited 90 minutes in an emergency department), and they had even gone home in between to get a bit of lunch (so technically they hadn't even waited for 90 minutes), who started getting verbally abusive, going through the regular rants of how incompetent and lazy we are, how they pay taxes and deserve better treatment than that, etc etc. Par for the course. No big deal - I quite pointedly stated that there are other patients, sicker patients, we'll get to you when we get to you.
Eventually, of course, they're chewing out the nurses, starting to become physically aggressive and starting to vandalize the emergency department. We give them another warning - but again, no big deal, still par for the course. Normal behaviour, nothing terribly unusual on a day to day basis.
They then pull out the big guns and start calling us very unladylike names (along the lines of dogs, crude anatomical structures, prostitutes, and the like), which then got me justifiably angry, so I called the OPP to escort them from my emergency department.
Which, of course, made them decide to leave before the cops arrived. But on the way out, they reminded me that I'm just a Chink, and that I should just go back to my country, 'cause people like me don't belong here. (See, that's making me cry again just typing it out). After they left, I couldn't finish my report to the OPP because I was crying too much, and one of the nurses had to give the report.
And that's the crazy thing: I can take verbal abuse, I can take crude language, and dish it out equally, but that (besides being incredibly inaccurate and ignorant, not being Chinese and being born here to boot) just cut me through. And I'm not sure why having my femininity challenged is something that can get me angry and react for justice, but challenging my racial identity makes me so upset. I think perhaps when you hear 'bitch' or 'whore' heard many times in different contexts (including in music and regularly on the street), it becomes relatively meaningless. However, words like 'nigger', 'jap', 'chink', 'paki' and the like bear so much weight and oppression on them, that they are heavy slaps in the face that draw your breath when you encounter them. And they are oppressive terms: terms developed by the white majority to perjure the coloured minorities, and they have been used that way ever since.
The plus side in all of this is that this patient is now banned from seeking care in this particular network, and I explicitedly asked the OPP if that patient came back, and I slugged them in the face, would that be a problem, and they didn't seem to think so, then that's helpful :).

Exfoliating epidermis

One thing you need to know about Koreans; they like to exfoliate. A lot. Scrub right down past several layers of dead epidermis to get down to the clean layers.
After returning from Haiti, I'd been feeling particularly dirty and knowing that I bore the dirt and grime of several cities and countries. I'd heard that Korean sauna/spas offered body scrubs in NYC, so I figured there must be some equivalent here, so I found out that yes, we do have one here in the city. So, off I went, sweated and rehydrated in the sauna, and then went to get my epidermis removed.
You know that scene in the Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe series where Edmund becomes a dragon, and in order to be returned to his original shape, Aslan has to scratch and tear at his dragon flesh to get to the soft boy flesh underneath? Yeah, that was it. It was pretty awesome. I know people usually tell me that I have good skin in the first place, but it is particularly amazing to me now, like I had lost all my dragon scales and returned to human flesh. I'm afraid they've gotten themselves a repeat customer....

Using the same vocabulary

I am so very chuffed; I get totally excited by our missions conference every year, to be sure, but this year is particularly so. I mean, the people who organize it always come through with some of the most incredible people in our world today, and it is a privilege to be in their presence to learn and engage with.
However, this is the first time in a long time, that I am hearing people speak the same language as I. No, not that nobody has ever spoken English to me before, but it is as if this vocabulary, this language, these semantics, these nuances and expressions are coming through piercingly sharp and clearly in focus. It is almost as if you manage quite well through life with 20/20 vision, and one day, your vision improves to 20/10, and the edges are more crisp, the vision is clearer than air, the colours even more vibrant. It is as if your visual comprehension of the world comes through in technicolour and beyond.
It is this way now. It is as if they are speaking what I say in my heart and my mind every day. Discussing with one of them strategies for the Kingdom, and speaking of what I understand, he stopped me and said, "You are speaking our language!", to which I laughingly replied, "But you are speaking mine!".
It is profound, to resonate with what one hears. I feel like a tuning fork, forced to quiver at the exact same frequency that is rumbling through the earth, the mighty rumblings of God and His righteousness and His justice upon the earth.

Haiti IX

Haitian Creole is a language unto itself; it is a mixture of French, Spanish and other conquerors' languages, created out of necessity by slaves from all sorts of different people groups out of Africa, desperate to find some means of communication amongst themselves that the 'blans' couldn't fully understannd. For, you see, the French were quite smart; they split up families and people groups, so, like the Tower of Babel, these new slaves wouldn't be able to communicate with one another and perhaps be able to plan and plot to overthrow the oppressor.
I am finding I can understand the general gist of conversations going on; I even found I could keep up with a sermon (in a service where I preached a mini-sermon of my own) in Creole. However, I'm only picking up about 60% of what's being said...

Haiti VIII

I know I've mentioned this before, but being able to authentically start crossing cultures, by being humble and choosing to learn, rather than informing cultures what to do and how to do them, stripping them of power and dignity, is an incredible gift. I myself am not great at it either; I hope and pray that I hold myself in a learner's position. I know that I am not good at listening humbly to my own culture; I feel like I am perpetually gouging out the log in my own culture's eye and prophetically (or, some would say, obnoxiously) speak perpetually about our own logs. I have been trying to understand the Haitian's point of view here and struggling between two cultures. Being the only person in the group who is, not able to speak to heart language of the Haitians, but able to converse in a language more easily spoken by them, leaves me in a vulnerable position on the team, as there is a sense I am on the "side" of the Haitians.
However, there are no sides here, though lines are being drawn. I know I tend to want to fall under the authority of national partners, rather than imposing my culture's point of view.
To me, my observed experiences thus far of agencies here shows the continued imperialism and arrogance that we in the West are constantly accused of (and in fact practice) when we are invited (or not) into other countries to serve them.

Haiti VII

Yesterday we went to a clinic in a village, and held it in the local church. It was stifling in there, as the building was enclosed and had a tin roof. You know there's something wrong with you when you step outside of a hot building and think, "Ah! What a refreshing day it is outside!", when it's actually 37C outside. It's gotta make you wonder just how hot it was inside the building in order to make 37C "refreshing".
However, that's not the point of the post. Our clinic was interrupted by screams and yelling outside (never a good sign). We found ourselves witness to a domestic assault, with the man beating the woman with a chair and a bicycle. We were advised to not get involved, and some of our translators and others relatively quickly dissipated the conflict. However, there were certain aspects about this that disturbed me (and not just the fact that I was prevented from participating in some greatly anticipated vigilante justice). One, many of the young men and boys were standing around and watching. And choosing not to participate. If men choose not to participate in administering justice, then they are continually and consistently choosing injustice. Secondly, one of our (male) team members patiently explained to me that there may have been reasons and justifications for his actions that we cannot know and that we cannot judge.
Hence, I suppose, that we can allow pedophilia, suppression of women, domestic violence and rape to continue, as we cannot know the hidden conflicts ad stresses that drive men to do such horrible things to women. Talking to one of the ex-Christians here, the lack of pursuit of a true, deep justice is one of the reasons why the Church is so very flawed, and 'logically' also, it's leader. That breaks my heart.

Haiti VI

You can tell that Haiti was at one point in its history, a beautiful country; there is much coastal land and mountains. But one can also see what (for a MYRIAD of reaons) poor judgement and wisdom have done here.
Much of the land, previously lush and fertile forests, is denuded of trees; 98% of the land is deforested, it has one of the highest rates of soil erosion, and this year's current crop is being threatened as the rainy season has yet to start (though that is a small mercy, in some ways, as many Haitians and NGOs are working to get their homes/tents to higher ground).
Now I have never been to another Carribean country before, so I suppose I cannot compare, but it seems to me that there is a tragic beauty here, a faded past that I hope one day can return.

Haiti V

I'm a bit conflicted here on a lot of different levels. I feel like I am violating many of my fundamental principles of how I understand justice, missions, global dynamics and politics, and equity. And I don't think it's in a good way, in a kind of "Oh, God's really stretched me to reconsider the boundaries of His love and His grace", rather, I feel that I am compromising, shrinking, oppressing and contributing more to the net suffering of the world rather than alleviating some of it.
I don't know yet, this early on, if that will change, and God will provide some great grace from this messiness that I am an accomplice of.
This will likely not make much sense to many of you, and I'd likely spend years trying to explain it, and I highly doubt even my travelling companion would bother to get it. We shall see if God's great grace comes shining through, or if He chooses to withhold redemption at this point.

Haiti IV

Faith is one of those funny things; it is so nebulous and unexplainable sometimes that it's overwhelming, sometimes so incredible and preposterous in light of what reality seems to demonstrate. I think faith is definitely a gift, but also sometimes a gullible naivete. I wonder why, when I look at the Bride, so gawdy, so fat and greedy and ugly, unmerciful and unjust, how I can continue to doggedly follow the carpenter from Nazareth? I am not sure most days.
This is not some pathetic cross-cultural shock of some sort, but in considering how to go forward, how to press on towards the goal, how to proclaim the Kingdom's coming, it begs the question: how does one follow the man of Galilee, the King and crucified One?

Haiti III

It is no easy task to bring acute relief in any form, medical or otherwise. People often wonder, both from donor and recipient nations, why aid often seems so slow in coming, that it seems that only the privileged few have access, etc.
One needs to realize, as I have, that the task is enormous. Even if there are supplies and donations available, how can one transport them into the country? Once it does, how can one ensure that corrupt officials do not deny entry, ask for 'tariffs' or bribes, or that you can actually collect your goods? After this, how does one transport the goods if one does not have a reliable source for a vehicle, diesel fuel, nor have the infrastructure for roads or airstrips? How then does one decide where the aid goes if you don't understand the culture or the societal structures that govern the group? How can you ensure that the most vulnerable get the aid, when it may just be the family members of the most powerful or influential? These are not easy questions, and oftentimes you are left sleeping with the enemy to at least have some aid to go somewhere to someone...

Haiti II

I think the cliche is true; you can't believe it till you see it. Now, I am no advocate for disaster tourism, but being driven through the heart of Port-au-Prince and seeing teetering precarious buildings, piles of rubble and the vast fields of the tent cities was unreal. Kind of like the unreal in seeing the vestiges of the 2004 tsunami, or the realities of starvation in northern Africa, or the lot of women in the Middle East, or the teeming masses in China. But you get what I mean.
There are a few other things that I also find astounding here; I have seen many multinational corporations here with their HQs being immaculate, strong buildings, next to tent cities - one has to ask themselves whether the corporations are more interested in cashing in on this poverty and the millions of dollars in aid sent here (for they are, on the most part, major vehicle makers from around the world, which is critical for the NGOs to do their work), rather than actually investing back in the people and the nation.
But I also see the resilience here: make-shift markets are happening, even in the shadow of very collapsible buildings. You can, unfortunately, see the starting of permanence in some of the tent cities (oh!!! But the blatant lack of security in those tents for the women and children in this country!). I don't think, however, that many schools have yet opened again...

Haiti I

I'm supposed to start this with a disclaimer: The opinions expressed on this blog are purely those of myself. In no way, shape or form does this necessarily align with the opinions of my traveling companion at all - he'd just like to make that clear. :)

En route, it became increasingly obvious that there were many other aid workers of various stripes heading down to Haiti. One thing I must mention, however: there were certainly a ton of the evangelical kind. Which, of course, in and of itself is not a bad thing, seeing as I'm one of those myself. What I could not abide, however, was how blatantly obvious that they were: T-shirts blaring "missionary", or "God is coming to Haiti", or "Christian mission" - all of them in gaggles wearing the same tribal colours to self-identify themselves.
These types of Christians creep me out. To me, it denotes utter lack of humility and wisdom; who says that one group or another has the monopoly on deciding who gets to bring God to town??? Would they even have the gall to wear such kind of gear if they were going to such places as China or Saudi Arabia?? I would hope and pray not. However, if bearing that bare minimum of knowledge of cross-cultural sensitivity, you'd persist with that kind of behaviour just because it's Haiti, that shows a breathtaking amount of cultural arrogance....

Gone earthquakin'

We'll be off within the next 30 hours or so to Haiti, so for those of you eagerly anticipating another round of real, legitimate PFTEs (haven't really had a set since China, I think) will have to wait for a little longer. As you can imagine, internet access may be a bit spotty; I have every intent of blogging about our adventures while we are there, but if WiFi access is tight, then it may just result in a huge deluge of postings when we return...

Why locality is so critical...

What I haven't really been able to comprehend in all of this discussion of the ash cloud over Europe is how business and industry have been slamming governments' decisions to close airspace. The closure of airspace, though inconvenient, was precautionary in order to prevent unnecessarily stupid deaths in airplane malfunction.
However, all we've heard from industry is how this was 'short-sighted' and unnecessary. Excuse me? What I cannot understand is why the media is allowing it to have press conferences expounding how European governments don't know what they are doing. We all know industry has an obvious agenda; the longer the planes are on the ground, the more money that they lose (oh, boo hoo). That is the only reason why they want the planes in the air - they want them for the money, irrespective of whether scientists don't think that airplanes are necessarily safe to fly and may actually endanger life - as long as the almighty dollar rules, planes will fly, lives be damned.
What I also cannot fathom is why the critical questions of globalization are not being brought to the forefront - there are good reasons why those of us who advocate for supporting local business, local farmers, local artisans and local industry do so. Not only because we support our neighbours and our communities, but also because the supply chain is short. I do not worry that I will not put food on the table, as I know I can easily reach the farmers who create my food. However, apparently fish supplies have been worrisome here in our city as they could not be imported, via Europe. Excuse me? We have plenty of fish here - what is wrong with it? Flowers have been rotting in Kenya, and thousands of Kenyans have lost jobs and hope, as flower factories there (don't even get me started with the labour abuses, environmental destruction and social chaos these factory farms have caused in Africa) have been unable to export to the European and North American markets. Excuse me? What is wrong with the flowers we grow (in season) here?
Ach. Human nature. Soon, we will forget of these small inconveniences, and few people, let alone businesses will critically analyze from just how far away all the things they think they 'need' come from...

FFT

The Seven Deadly Social (as opposed to 'carnal') Sins

Politics without Principle
Wealth without Work
Commerce without Morality
Pleasure without Conscience
Education without Character
Science without Humanity
Worship without Sacrifice

-Mahatma Ghandi

Black, white and the gray points in between

A friend of mine today was explaining to me that life was actually quite simple. Really?
He assures me that all decisions and situations in life come down to black and white paradigms, so life actually is quite easy to navigate. Really?
I suppose it is true: if you can see the world in a simplified black and white dichotomous paradigm, it would be easy to cruise through life. You're wrong, I'm right. This is bad, that is good. This stays, that goes. I'm in, you're out. Easy.
However, the overwhelming evidence demonstrates to me that life, decisions, circumstances, situations, etc are rarely as easy as a binary choice. There are always shades on the gray-scale that mitigate and modify choice. Being able to distill the liquor of life to two options is something that proves elusive to me.
Take something that I do for a living: teen pregnancy. Sure, getting pregnant out of wedlock, when you're certainly not mature or capable of taking care of a child is incredibly unfair to the coming child. On the other hand, terminating the pregnancy because that would be the more convenient option is also seen as a 'bad choice'. On the other hand (the third hand), the option of giving up one's child for adoption, though seen as a 'solution' by some can leave the mother with scars of guilt and regret for years to come. On the other, other hand (the fourth hand), leaving the child to be raised alone by a mother who is but a child herself is also not ideal. Lots of gray all over the place on that one. Sure, you can be black and white, condemn the girl (but noooo, never the boy) for getting pregnant and telling her she should have had the moral fortitude (or at least the organizational ability to get on reliable contraception) to resist, but that doesn't change the fact that life happens anyways.
Sometimes I think black and white thinkers make it so, as it simplifies things greatly, and one doesn't have to take into account individual factors. I would love to think in black and white; I could have knee-jerk or rote answers to everything, and never have to consider other issues that would be game-changers. I suppose that could have me labelled as wishy-washy, or indecisive, but I can't imagine anyone accusing me of that...

I am actually quite normal, thank you.

I find myself in a very ungrateful position, but it really must be said: I am getting quite weary of being told how amazing and/or incredible I am. Now, before you think that I'm that narcissistic that this is not enough for me, or something, there are a couple of components to this complaint.
One, there are a terribly large lot of women that I think are really quite amazing in their own rights. Women who do incredibly generous, skillful, talented things. I don't really think that I'm much better than many other women that I know of. I think, actually, that there are lots of other more fantastic things that other women I know are involved in and do - from freeing trafficked girls, to ministering to prostitutes, to organizing international conferences, to doing research, to speaking out against injustice in all its forms, to publicly role model for change, to changing policies, hearts and minds every day. That's amazing.
Second, I'm not sure that what I do is particularly amazing, per se, or if it's actually normal. We've been given finite amounts of time in this life, and we have been called to be ambassadors for Christ, so how does this excuse us to sit in our cubicles all day, go home to make supper and then sit around and watch TV? We have all been called to be and do so, so, so much more than this, such that, most of what I do, I feel, is not even maximizing the opportunity or the choice of what I am able to do in this world. We have all been given so very much, that wasting one's life on the trivial, the mundane, or the useless just seems, well, pathetic and wasteful.
Third, the other big issue is that I have only ever heard this from the mouths of other women. I have yet to hear that kind of validation regularly from men. I hear it quite a lot from women, over and over and over again. I am deeply appreciative, but I think women inherently recognize and validate worth when they see it, and attempt to dignify it by elevating it when it is needed. It would be nice to hear that kind of validation from the other side, as it's hard to know: Is it because I really don't deserve the accolades at all, or it's not recognizable and thus doesn't deserve validation, or it would just be too darn hard for men to actually dignify the women amongst them?

On a completely different note

I'm realizing there are a scant few people that I know are regular readers of this blog. However, I do note that there are quite a few regular perusers, but I have no idea who they are, and many of them are right within my area code!
Please do drop a line, and let me know if you're reading - it's awfully encouraging to know that someone's paying attention out there!

Bring Food Home

I haven't had much to write on, or at least anything that I'd be willing to post in public, for the last little while. However, I thought I'd muse on a very inspiring conference that happened two weeks ago now. Farmers, food activists, community advocates and others came together to talk about food in a new way. I think there was some real momentum there from everyone attending.
Since then, I've read in several newspapers of the rather depressing rightward-leanings that Canadians are heading to (which always happens whenever there's an economic recession - don't get me started on right-wing economical policies, 'cause that will just get me really upset), and the inevitable 'bubble' that's about to burst of the local foods/local economies movement.
However, it does point out to me the lack of broad-based appeal that's inherent in many social justice movements. One of the discussion groups I was participating in was the very real issue of racial diversity (or lack thereof).
Inevitably, the reality is that the majority of farmers in this country are white. There are many immigrants who wish to farm, but, due to their lack of capital, cannot invest in farmland (who can? Even young farmers I know can only dream of owning their own farm, mainly because of heartless, greedy developers and inane, thoughtless politicians) to pursue their dream of farming. Also, many ethnicities in the city participate in urban agriculture, though they would never label it as such, and to bring them to the table to broaden the scope of how food reaches us and our plates, would be awesome. There's also the reality that many of the people participating in social justice movements are those people who have already secured their wealth and their positions in society, or they are the children of those very same.
There's also the very real, and very scary, trend that second generational people move to the suburbs. They buy big homes. They buy big cars. They live the big life, far from soil, and land, and sky, and air. They live disconnected from the reality of good, strong earth, and live wired to concrete and fibre-optic lines.
As I always say, the biggest hurdle to overcome is this one. The reason why immigrants come here is so that their children will have big houses and big money and big comforts. "Besides, if I wanted to live in high-density housing, grow my own food and ride my bicycle everywhere, I would've stayed in my village in (fill in the blank country here)".
But this is the problem: those countries developed high-intensity networks to house, feed and transport people out of necessity. We are talking about doing that, not out of necessity, but to prepare for the inevitable reality that we will eventually have to. Until people of my socio-economic demographic start realizing that we are part of the problem, we won't participate in the solutions...

Going through open doors

This whole concept of God "opening doors" is not very clear to me. I think sometimes it's a fallacy, really - just because everything happens to be going your way doesn't necessarily mean that it's the right way to go. I mean, broad is the path that leads to deception and all.
I find myself talking with the same vocabulary of looking to see if 'barriers fall' or 'doors open' when looking for things that are 'meant to be' or 'in God's will'. However, I don't necessarily think it's as easy as that. If life was super easy, and all one had to do was go along the path of least resistance, then shouldn't life be way less complicated than it really is? It almost sounds zen or new age-y when you talk that way, about following the path of least resistance, but for some reason, we talk the same reasoning, but use different semantics. Strange.
That being said, I too, over the past few days had been looking for 'doors to open' in order to follow what I really wanted to do. Seven, in fact. And, each of them had given way, one by one, over the short span of 36 hours, allowing me to be free to go. Go where? I'll report on that later...

Food, glorious food...

This has been/will be a very busy Food season for me. Last week was the annual COG-Toronto conference, with me getting some fan-girl photos with Michael Schmidt and Percy Schmeiser, some of the most famous farmers we have in this country (hee hee, with me getting all giggly and groupie - one friend noted I'm the only person they know that wants my picture taken with farmers instead of rock stars, Bono excepted). A lot of emphasis on the evil of GMOs, of which I am slightly on the agnostic fence about, but a good conference overall. Followed by Seedy Sunday, which for me, always indicates the first sign of spring - looking forward to getting out and working the 'garden' again!
Last night, FoodShare kicked off its first ever, inaugural fundraiser, which was so lovely, and the energy was just awesome. I am so indebted to the generosity of the chefs in this city and our staff, who brought together an amazing assortment of delicacies and delights all under one roof! And then, to cap it all off, possibly one of the biggest Ontario food security conferences coming next week (yay! with more fan-girl photos to come!)!.
Certainly, it's been a lot of food, and a lot of fun... tomorrow is going to be rather tame, with me cooking dinner for a few good friends at their house, in comparison...

Seriously? I'm not that wise.

It's not often that I get complimented on things. Not that I particularly mind, or am looking for validation; it's just one of those things. However, I received one of the best compliments ever the other night. I had some folk from church over for supper, and one guy was stunned to find out that I work as a doctor.
"Really?" he said, "I had always thought you were a theologian, studying to be a pastor, or at least a theology student!"
That's awesome! He had said he had just assumed that because of the way I talked and discussed things at church. He was then surprised to hear I had never been to Bible college, never been to seminary, and never taken any theological courses at all, which impressed him all the more.
I'm flattered (not that he meant it at all to be a flatterer). It's not quite being told that I clearly bear the fruit of the Spirit, and it could be understood the wrong way, in that I am so puffed up with knowledge, that I have no practical application of my faith. However, I definitely take it on the positive note, as that is very humbling to think someone thought I was wise enough to be a theologian. The indirect compliment on my brain was greatly appreciated; currently, he's sitting as "one of my favorite people" on the imaginary list of "favorite people" that I keep... :P

FFT

This is really for my own interest, as it had been shared with me in a talk many years ago. I realize, as one develops more and more of a public voice, this becomes increasingly important. Even without forays into the public domain, these are still things to consider, especially as all of our private lives, whether we like it or not, become more exposed to the public domain... Perhaps philandering celebrities also should take these little tests into consideration as well...

To justify any action, one needs to consider:
1. Red-faced test: Would you be embarassed if others knew what you did?
2. Gold fish bowl test: Could you justify your actions if they became public knowledge?
3. Aristotle's test: Would you act the same in other similar cases?
4. Insomnia test: Can you sleep soundly at night with your decision?
5. Mother test: Would you act the same if it was your mom?

Shuddering with SDs

I'm going to muse on and off this weekend, since I'm stuck in the hospital for 48 hours, so I've certainly got time to kill...
I remember being quite good at math when I was a kid. I even participated in math contests in high school, I was that stereotypically nerdy.
But seriously, since I finished those mandatory first year math courses in undergrad, I have barely done anything involving a calculator for years - I don't even do my own taxes!
So, suffice it to say, when I was told I have to have a mandatory undergraduate statistics course done before the end of May this year, I had a small frisson up my spine; I hadn't done any sort of math for over a decade! You'd think a modern, intelligent woman like myself could handle a stupid little undergrad course, but I'd been moaning and groaning in anticipation of horrid, complicated formulas that would make me go cross-eyed and even more myopic. And it's true; I'm still moaning and groaning, though through only the first one-sixth of the course, it hasn't been as horribly awful as I was afraid of. Sure, it's work, but I have to keep reminding myself that if some 19 year old pre-med keener can do this course, then so can I.

Break dividing walls

While I was in the UK, I was considering the deep beauty and mystery of cross cultural missions. Not just in the example of people leaving to serve overseas, but just the deep reconciliation and understanding across gender, across colour, across ethnicity, across socio-economic class and culture.
There is something so heart-achingly beautiful in watching someone struggling to deliberately shed one's own skin and baggage in order to try to put on another one.
Perhaps it's because it isn't seen that often. Perhaps it's because it is far too hard. Perhaps it's because it is far easier, far more comfortable, to love those who are 'like'. Look like me. Talk like me. Eat like me. Dress like me. Walk like me. Socialize like me. Spend money like me. Understand the world like me. Hate the same things like me. Believe things like me.
We have been called to be bridge-builders, to be ambassadors for the ministry of reconciliation, to be those who stand in the gap, to be those who no longer see male nor female, slave nor free, Jew nor Gentile.
Yet we do see. And distinguish. And divide. So the question remains: how to bring that beauty, that mystery, of the power of reconciliation? How to be so humble that those dividers, those walls, are broken, to bring about true community, true Kingdom?

England II (but far and away)

Had a lovely time in the UK - wonderful people that I think are some of the awesomest people on earth, lots of good food and fun and hopefully I contributed something useful to boot!
However, I was going to write about my flight home, cause my flight there was vaguely sucky cause I couldn't sleep, and there weren't any good movies on, and our flight took two hours longer than it really should have in the air for various reasons.
At any rate, not only did our flight leave right on time, but the food on the flight was actually yummy! And, which was even more awesome, the chicken tikka actually had an ingredient list on the package, and it was all food - no preservatives, no hydrogenated palm oil - all food! I was so very pleased. And then, there were two awesome movies I'd been wanting to see - It Might Get Loud, a documentary on three skilled and talented electric guitarists (Jack White, Jimmy Page and The Edge - you can take a wild guess who I was looking out for!), as well as Paper Heart (which actually kind of wasn't as great as I was hoping it was going to be). Then, I got to help in a medical non-emergency (thank goodness; I don't know what I would've done with myself if there was a real emergency - maybe pretend I wasn't a doctor or something), which was, I guess, a relatively soft way of getting back to work. The only downside is I didn't receive anything for my pains - an upgrade, a few air miles, something? Oh well.
And then, to boot, our flight landed early! I couldn't believe it; one of the smoothest flights ever (barring being bumped to First Class on my flight to Shanghai - that has got to be my best flight ever, though I spent the vast majority of it sleeping perfectly horizontally, which is why it rocked so much)!
Yay on British Airways! Good service, great flight.
Yup, I spent an entire blog post talking about how great the flight was. But it really was actually an enjoyable flight, and considering I don't actually love the sitting-on-the-plane bit of travelling, that's actually a good thing.

Avatar analysis

OK, OK, I just really have to complain about this movie. It was really visually stunning and really, the movie flew by and hardly seemed like to the 2+hrs that it took to run the thing. Visually stunning, plot quite thin and obvious (c'mon! Unobtanium?!?! You work on a movie for 10 yrs, and that's the best name you can come up with for a new mineral????), but a completely entertaining movie...
At any rate, a few problems, which is probably why I don't watch blockbusters very much, nor action movies and the like...
The complete defiance of the normal laws of physics. I KNOW most actions films do defy physics on a regular basis (which is why shows like Mythbusters do what they do), but come on! Home Tree gets blown up, Na'vi get thrown all over the place, over tree stumps, up in the air, etc, but nooooo, when the evil colonel is getting into one of those machine beasts, despite the ship gradually blowing up, he can casually move around, and easily slips out of the ship as it is exploding. I don't care if you defy physics, as long as you do it consistently.
Also, I am concerned about this vision of the future: pretty much everybody (except for the token brown guy on the science team, the token Latina girl driving a helicopter, and one Sikh dude and a couple of black guys I saw in the recruitment scenes) is white. Is that the plan? Are all the other races going to be pretty much obliterated in the future? All of the main characters were white (well, or blue), and, really, if you're going to develop biotechnology/engineering/computer science-type things, and you have no yellow people on board???? What the??? How is that to be? How could you possible move on a large-scale project like this and have no Asian people at all? I find that incredibly hard to believe.
Yes, yes, suspension of disbelief is needed in purely-for-entertainment-and-flight-into-fantasy-type movies, but still....

England I

Yup, back in England and back with the crew - it's funny, as desperately cold as I've been perpetually (you'd think I'd have learned my lesson from last year) since I've arrived, there have been some small mercies, especially in the form of a space heater so I can sleep. I was initially appalled at the pictures I was seeing people posting of scads of snow piled up all around, and was thinking, my goodness! I'm leaving Canada so I don't have to deal with scads of snow! However, mercy in the form of melting all the snow overnight yesterday was helpful.
It's also been incredibly awesome to see good friends again in the flesh - though the year has literally flown by, and facebook, Skype and messenger help in reducing the gap - it is indeed good to touch and see friends in real life.
And, as exciting as it has been for me to see friends and watch snow melt, that's pretty much all I have to report on!

Choices

I fully recognize that the privilege, options, choices and freedoms I have are a completely foreign notion to most women in the world, not only today, but from ages past to present. It is a massive amount of grace that has been shown to me, way out of proportion of anything I certainly deserve, that's for sure. The very facts that I can walk around freely, can read, am able to vote, can speak to men not of my own clan or family group without repercussion, can negotiate my sexual rights, let alone be able to pursue higher education or have few financial worries, are staggering at best, but also historically unprecedented in the world.
However, in quoting Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility, or, more seriously, to whom much has been given, much will be demanded. This is where the dilemma lies: many great and weighty choices face us, many of which are good, but choosing what is best is very difficult.
In some ways, having no option is very easy - you have no choice in the matter, so you carry on with the load you have to bear. Now, in reality, this is not easy at all. Not easy when you have no choice but to work two minimum wage jobs so you can keep up with rent. Not easy when you are illiterate and are coerced into being trafficked. Not easy when you run away from an abusive home and end up on the streets. Not easy if you have minimal education and can't get out of the poverty trap.
However, for those of us who aren't in that kind of a bind, we face issues that involve Kingdom and Glory. How do I choose best to maximize Kingdom and Glory? What would be best in serving the King? Yes, yes, He can use all the bits we have to offer Him, but I would imagine we would want to offer Him the very best.
And that's the dilemma; wondering what to do next, what's the next step, where's the next path....

FFT

This world in which we live needs beauty in order not to sink into despair. Beauty, like truth, brings joy to the human heart, and is that precious fruit which resists the erosion of time, which unites generations and enables them to be one in admiration. And all this through the work of your hands... Remember that you are the custodians of beauty in the world.

- Pope Paul VI

FFT

God is personal, but never private. If God is not personal, there is little meaning to faith. It merely becomes a philosophy or a set of teachings from religious figures who died long ago. WIthout a personal God, there is no personal dimension to belief. There is no relationship to God, no redemption, salvation, grace, or forgiveness. There is no spiritual transformation without a personal God, and no power that can really change our lives beyond mere self-improvement....

However, that personal God is never private. Restricting God to private space was the great heresy of twentieth-century American evangelicalism. Denying the public God is a denial of biblical faith itself, a rejection of the prophets, the apostles, and Jesus Himself. Exclusively private faith degenerates into a narrow religion, excessively preoccupied with individual and sexual morality while almost oblivious to the biblical demands for public justice. In the end, private faith becomes a merely cultural religion providing the assurance of righteousness for people just like us.

-Jim Wallis

Repentance and relief...

I find it is not very often that Canadians return to the Lord, crying in repentance of the sins that they have committed and the abominations that they have created. I know I'm also one of those; the staggering amount of apathy and indifference that I hold towards personal and corporate sin is flabbergasting.
However, for the past three days, I have been wrestling with corporate sin so deeply infiltrated into our lives, I'm currently emotionally spent. Crying for forgiveness for the church, for the brokenness of many lives, for the mercy of God to withhold His hand in judgement against us... There are great problems in this, including my own hypocrisy - will this repentance last? Will I, indeed, turn from my wicked ways? and my own powerlessness in changing the world.
The numbers are staggering: 800 million people go to bed hungry every night. Half of the world's population live on less than $2.50 a day. The richest 10% of the world (ahem, us) consume 60% of the resources, while the bottom 10% consume only 0.5% - a 100-fold discrepancy. The world spends $780 billion in the legal arms and weapons trade every year, yet only $6 billion would guarantee every single child on this planet could get a basic education - and this amount is still less than what North American women spend on cosmetics every year. The economic distance between the very poorest and the very richest is ever-widening, making it harder and harder for those on the bottom to ever catch up to those of us at the top.
And yet, the North American church is known more for its embrace of the materialistic culture that dominates society. Sure, we are doing work, on small scales, in varying places, to counteract this overwhelming poverty. But does the North American church uniformly, in word and deed, declare "NO!" to continuing in this unjust manner? We are comfortable in our houses, with our cars, with our multiple changes of clothing, with being adequately fed with overly cheap food, with having flush toilets, but, like the cows of Bashan, I fear, judgement will lay on our heads for not acknowledging the devastatingly poor, and continuing in our ways that perpetuate oppression of the poor...
Thank God for His mercy! However, mercy without repentance is rather empty, I think. And I look at this computer screen, realizing that the fact that I own a computer, can pay for internet access, have the electricity to run the darn thing, and have adequate shelter in which to safely use my computer places me leagues ahead of the Majority. And how, with the God who Sees, can we start to turn from our ways and follow Him in true devotion and worship...

All in a Friday afternoon...

As Advent season is clearly upon us, I am just going to muse a bit of a smorgasbord of things that I was thinking about the other day. I had been listening to the CBC (of course), as they ran a few monologues of people talking about faith. Mainly about losing faith, really. It was particularly poignant in listening to one young man, who, being raised in a very conservative, very rigid, very legalistic Christian family (ahem, reminding me of my own church Family), was eventually driven from it for not conforming to their ideals. Labelled heretic and someone who had lost the way. Which was a bunch of bullshit. He did eventually make it to Bible college, and had many divine encounters with people who did show him there were other ways of worshipping, that he didn't have to wear a straitjacket to reach the divine. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough; he ended his segment by revealing that he simply could not believe the Christian message at the end of the day.
This kind of thing makes me angry; I think it's because I am bull-headed enough to stay with the Family that I've been given, but I know for many, it's a Family that would send them to the funny farm. And that, I find, is incredibly sad. And what's more, I find sometimes that my Family doesn't even realize how it alienates and isolates others; sure, they love people like crazy, and they do their very best, but I can imagine this young man would not have fared much better with us.
This followed me having to kill an hour in a mall, and watching the parade of children going to visit Santa at his castle. As sweet as it was to watch all the excitement of the little ones wanting to meet Santa, you could see that his elves were trying to be as efficient as possible. Loading the children onto Santa, snapping the photos, having a basket for Santa to put letter requests into - all these trappings of consumerism and our 'service' industry all conglomerated together at one time. Big styrofoam castles surrounded by artificial pine trees, candy being given out to the children, indoctrinating our children to ask for more, and more and more... sigh...
This all compounded with a friend of mine who is 'working' overseas, talking about their work with someone from my Family, who basically said that their work was invalid, as they were not pointing to the one and only way to understand Good News. This Family member, I think, probably doesn't understand how, or, more likely, refuses to acknowledge, that Good News changes in different time periods, and different cultures, and different worldviews. But no, I'm afraid that many people in my Family believe that the Good News is completely immutable, that practice and belief must be absolutely uniform, spanning all time and space. If so, I must say, we are already hypocrites, as we fall far short of the original Family's pattern of life together. (Trying to bring this up, however, has always resulted in my being told that I was "wrong"). Suffice it to say, my friend was taken aback, which embarrassed me greatly.
Sigh. All for a King that came to earth and changed history, power, humanity, intimacy, hope, everything...

FFT

Usually, I'm a very big non-fan of email forwards, but this one was from a very sweet friend, and was very sweet itself, and indicted me on some of my own attitudes, so I figured I'd repeat it here:

I am thankful:
for the wife, who says it's hot dogs tonight, because she is home with me and not out with someone else.
for the husband who is on the sofa being a couch potato, because he is home with me and not out at the bars.
for the teenager who is complaining about doing dishes, because it means she is at home, and not on the streets.
for the taxes I pay, because it means I am employed.
for the mess to clean after a party, because it means I have been surrounded by friends.
for the clothes that fit a little too snug, because it means I have enough to eat.
for my shadow that watches me work, because it means I am out in the sunshine.
for a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing, because it means I have a home.
for all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means we have freedom of speech.
for the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and I have been blessed with transportation.
for my huge heating bill, because it means I am warm.
for the lady behind me in church who sings off key, because it means I can hear.
for the pile of laundry and ironing, because it means I have clothes to wear.
for weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day, because it means I have been capable of working hard.
for the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours, because it means I am alive.
and finally, for too many emails, because it means I have friends who are thinking of me. (OK, still not a big fan of email forwards, so I'm not so sure what I think of this one :) )

FFT

This was actually a song sung at Redeemer by its song-writer this past Sunday:

Citylife

they're building higher
oh the skyline looks so pretty from this rooftop
and the walk I take from home to my train stop is fine with me
music plays
and there are dancers on the stage next to the fountain
and statues that remind us of our fathers
so long ago

in this city, we are walking next to millions
in this city, we are walking next to nations
though the city life inspires me, it's hard to see
my name in lights while others fade away

over the river
there are pieces of the past I knew from textbooks
and we separate the boundaries of our neighbourhoods
they're tearing down
and it's a race to get the real estate investment
'cause the land of opportunity's expensive

oh look around
on the corner of the street next to cathedrals
there's a colony of men who sleep on sidewalks
outside
it's never equal
and the children are too young to know such sadness
but when we 'mourn with those who mourn' it makes a difference
for friends in need

-Sean McClowry

New York III (not really, and kind of irrelevant, and I'm not even there anymore)

One thing I've been thinking about after talking to a friend in Central Park is the sheer diversity of the evangelical church. Diversity to the point of wondering how to start really authentically bridging and unifying the Church.
One of the cases in point: I spent (as previously noted) my Sunday morning worshipping in a black, Baptist, Harlem-based, gospel church. It was everything that you would dream and want it to be: people were really praising God with their bodies through dance, with their voices with singing and call-and-answer worship, the fiery testimonies praising God on how He has radically changed lives, and how He deserves all glory and praise for deliverance - it was awesome! It was liberating to feel free enough to worship, with more than just my mind (which is the usual case in my home church), with dancing, and vocalizing and praying! Suffice it to say that I was one of the rare non-black people in the whole sanctuary, and the only Asian in the entire church building. As emotionally satisfying as that was, I left the church wondering what I had "learned" vs only experienced and witnessed.
Later that day, I went to Redeemer Presbyterian, a famous evangelical church in NYC. It's considered "small" by American church standards; "only" 5000-6000 people attend service (yes, I was told, with a shrug, "only" 5000 people attend this church). In many ways, it reminded me of the form of my own church: nobody moves, everyone just sings the song through once. The liturgy was also very structured and calculated - acclaim God, followed by a time of confession, followed by a time of worshipping God, returning thanks to Him in the form of tithes and offerings, gather around the Word and the exposition of it, benediction of the believers and then dismissal. Very cerebral, not emotional. The sermon was really, really, really great, to be sure, but again - it appealed to the rational in me, the cerebral, the intellect. It brought up points of discussion and further intellectual manoeuvring, but did not bring my heart, with longing, to draw closer to God in praise.
So then I was left with two very different understandings of Sunday worship, both of which fed important parts of my body, spirit and soul, but each of which left parts of me hungry. To bring the two together would almost be bringing two planets together as they are so polarized as to how they understand the nature of God. I even strongly suspect that people from my own home church would clearly state that one of the churches I attended that Sunday is less "valid", or less "worshipful" or retains less of an understanding of God than the other, simply based on their form and perceived "content". Which is sad.
Both are doing their work for the Kingdom, in beautifully different ways. However, how to bring those ends together in unity is something that is perplexing me.

New York II

America is an interesting place. Admittedly, it's a very easy thing, to point out the weaknesses in American society and in its culture. It is sometimes hard to remember that America still represents, for many peoples and nations, freedom and liberty.
I think Americans sometimes forget the critically important role that they play in the world as well.
The clash of all sorts of inconsistencies and paradoxes in the culture have been flooding me since I've been here. I've driven by one of the jumbo multiplex superjails, 2km in length as we drove, high barbed wire fences and jail towers... it actually gave me a physical chill up my spine, as it reminded me of concentration camps that I had seen in Germany. Knowing that America holds the highest incarceration rate in the Western world only solidified that queasy sensation that I had. I also spent some time with NFL alumni (yes, yes I did) at the New York Jets training centre (yeah, don't ask me, it's kind of obscure), some of whom had won Super Bowls and had the rings to prove it. The sheer opulence and wealth and just plain old stuff available here is plainly enormous. One thing that people have been pointing out to me here is that doctors can have special license plates so that they are allowed to park wherever they want - looking at the vehicles that they were all driving also made me want to vomit, and made me embarrassed to be a physician.
But then, spending time worshipping for 3 1/2 hours at a Harlem church was incredibly moving. Watching at how much effort the people put into looking their very best for God in His house, the music, the testimonies given and the sheer amount of PRAISE they had for God and His glory was enough to make me tear up several times. Seeing the reality of Redeemer Church and Tim Keller's heart for the City that Never Sleeps gave me food for thought as well.
Yes, the juxtaposition of America: the wealth and the grinding poverty, the worship of God and the worship of money.
Yet, the Americans I've spoken to are mainly protectionist, Republican, conservative and capitalistic - the complete stereotypes one expects from American Christians. Trying to talk to people as to why it just might be biblically wrong to let the poor and the neglected to die because they cannot access health care, or why, perhaps, when America had a chance to truly 'turn the other cheek' when 9/11 happened, allowing the chance to change the destiny of our current world order, allowing the chance to forgive rather than seek vengeance, I've been told that political policy and Christian morality are separate. I've been told that forgiveness in the case of 9/11 was not a viable option, that a religious war was inevitable.
That frightens me. The Land of Opportunity closing itself from almost everyone in the world, fighting "enemies" that exist around every corner, its inability to look at the logs in its own eye, I think, will write its own destiny. My brothers and sisters who can hear a sermon about forgiveness, and the need to die to self to bring life to others, and then can turn around and not be able to see some of the contributions that they have made to cause the increased animosity towards America frightens me extremely...

New York I

It's not often that I cross the border; this is probably the first official time I've crossed the border on a long trip in over ten years. I had forgotten about the fact that Homeland Security is a little over the top; I had wanted to get to Pearson at my usual one hour before flight time, but my father, who was dropping me off at the airport, insisted on bringing me two hours early.
Well, turns out he was right: the lineups, security checks, etc, did take 1 1/2 hours to get through. On the plus side, my passport got stamped with clearance by Homeland Security (I love passport stamps!).
So, New York. The Big Apple. Gotham City. Whatever you want to call it, it's big. I was told about 8 million people in the boroughs that make up New York City. I managed to meet a nice elderly couple from Maine who were also public transiting it into town, so we travelled together to get to the Upper West Side, where I was meeting a friend for a walk and for dinner.
Walking is great in this town. Too bad I forgot the sun goes down by 5pm, so photo taking gets a bit limited. Managed to walk a bit of the Upper West Side, and then subwayed down to NoHo and Soho before dinner. Nice.
It's definitely a busy, rush-rush, money kind of town. We sat for dinner at 6pm, and the place was deserted. However, by about 6:45pm, all the suits started coming in, not to eat, but for cocktails and after-work snacks. What? How uncivilized, to leave work at that hour! I was told most New Yorkers don't get around to eat till 8pm at night, mainly because of the work hours. We then headed to a place that serves rice pudding exclusively. Strange. Apparently, there's also a very famous and busy restaurant here that only serves hot dogs. I can't imagine places like that surviving in Toronto; the novelty factor is a little bit too high - that being said, the rice pudding place was busy! Crazy - how much rice pudding can a person eat?
I'm staying with another friend who lives up in Harlem while I'm here - it's been surprising, as both of my friends' places have been surprisingly much larger than I had assumed most people's places in New York would be - I manage to get my own guest room to sleep in, and I can actually walk around and dance in their living rooms. I am not sure if this is exceptional, or the rule, but I'm certainly enjoying it anyways.

Wiped...

I'm sorry, but this H1N1 hysteria has just wiped me out. We've been seeing, on average, about 50% more patients than we'd usually do solely because of this hysteria. It's actually made me tired and unable to pay attention to almost anything else that's currently going on in my life.
I am thankful that I am heading off on a mini-vacation tomorrow morning, after doing a pre-interview with the CBC for an upcoming documentary series (yay!). That's about all I have to say for now, but certainly, folks, I am not neglectful, just really weary from all the yelling, anxiety and worry from the masses of healthy people.

I think maybe I'll actually be able to see an African elephant now...

This probably won't mean much to the non-evangelicals among you, but I've been invited to be one of the Canadian representatives at the Third Lausanne Congress on World Evangelization, taking place in South Africa in October 2010. This is probably the massivest deal that has happened to me, I think. There are fifty of us attending from Canada and we are representing a broad cross-section of the Canadian evangelical church today; I am only aware who three other representatives are, but I'm excited to learn who else is coming to represent our country!
What is that awfully long name, I've heard even evangelicals asking me. In brief, it's the biggest international gathering of global evangelicals from around the world. This is only the third time this has happened in the past 35 years, so that's quite something in and of itself. Leaders from the global church, predominantly from the Global South (which is exciting!!!), will be there to grapple with the issues of our day, and how the evangelical world should respond in love, mercy and grace, while pointing to Jesus Christ as the hope of all the nations of the world.
It's a terribly exciting deal. It'll be my first time in southern Africa, hence my hope that I might actually see something more in terms of African wildlife besides goats and camels, which has so far been my only exposure to their fauna. It will also tie in nicely as I'll also be attending a secular international environment and social development leadership conference in South Africa in November 2010, so I'll be hanging around that country for quite a while next year!
What was particularly odd, though, was a semi-racist and sexist reaction from a colleague of mine who insinuated that I was only going as I happened to be a coloured female. I recognize this to be partially true, as they had been putting great efforts to represent the diversity of the Church today, but in the context of this colleague, being a white male, wanting desperately to go but not being invited to attend, it smacked a bit of pettiness. Ironically, the other three people I know who are on the Canadian team all happen to be white males who I admire quite greatly. Oh well.

Where the Wild Things Are

I know it's been a long while between posts - too much going on!
I've been mulling over this on and off over the past few days. WTWTA is a beautifully crafted movie, and, as many people have pointed out, is not a children's movie. It is a movie about childhood, and its aching beauty, and the adult sorrows that sometimes it cannot fully understand.
There was much to fully commend about that movie, in its explorations of relationship and family, and in its inability to neatly tie together all the ends and resolve all conflict and sadness. Max is not, as he is asked early in the movie, able to take away all the sadness, for it seeps deeply into the bones, and he is but a child.
The one thing that really got to me, however, is some of the moral ambiguity that is left at the end of the film. Perhaps I need to watch it again. Perhaps I expect the story arc of conflict-repentance-resolution too much. But I found the narratives of the dangers of labeling the 'good' and 'bad' guys, or the lack of consequences for bad behaviour, or the lack of fully good archetypes a bit unsettling. The shifting sand of who is good and who is not makes one stumble as to 'who wins', for no one really does.
Part of our human nature wants good to triumph over evil, NEEDS evil to be demolished and eliminated, but by leaving the possibility open that we simply cannot do this, shifts our mindset. The trend that I've seen in films, by eliminating pure archetypes and adding moral complexity to characters certainly rings more true, but it undermines our hope that there is real Good out there.
Maybe you need to see the film to understand what I'm getting at, but I must say, it generated way more discussion after the film than I'm used to with the people I went with...

Hey, hey you - heal thyself!

It's been crazy-busy here, to the point that I would have to put in my day planner when I would have time during the week to wash my hair - yes, that pathetically busy. It's been a good-busy (if there is such a thing), however.
I am glad to say it looks like maybe I'll be back at a rational pace of life for a little bit. However, that has almost been forced upon me; with all the sleep deprivation, the hordes of worried well cramming the clinic, and the extreme amounts of social interaction lately, I've gotten the wind taken out of my sails by getting sick.
Usually, I only get significantly sick every five or six years, so I was certainly due. And no, it's not the flu, it's not H1N1, it's just a particularly bad viral infection. Yes, I've had fevers, and I'm mute and deaf from all the congestion, but it's fine.
The most ridiculous part, however, was trudging through a walk-in shift, with people looking logarithms less sick than myself asking for sick notes to excuse themselves for an extremely long weekend. Excuse me? I thought as I hacked and hoarsed my way through these visits - stupid idiots with sick days banked....

More than just worms and plants...

The only other living creatures with me in my home on a usual basis are worms and plants. However, I've had the privilege and joy of having two human roommates in succession over the past little while! Each are back in Canada from having been abroad for Kingdom work, back for refreshing and updating before heading out again. It's been an honour having them each stay in my home and offering them a place to retreat and refresh. Because I've been so darn busy and generally sleep-deprived over the past month, one actually thanked me for giving them a place to retreat and commune, as I'd been away for more than 56 hours in a row while they were there! So, in-your-face host I guess I am not. However, it's been nice sharing space for the little while that I've had them!