12 Witnesses

(Subtitiled:  Ways to the “Big Question”)

When in San Antonio, I partook of the Missional Luncheon offered for free by NAMB and the Missional Network.  It was great Tex-Mex and pretty good company.  I sat toward the back with all the bloggers and suffered worried looks from the leaders of the gathering - mainly Ed Stetzer.

One of the speakers was Bob Roberts, who had recently begun to make an impact on my understanding “Glocal” missionality.

We were asked to write down a question on a card for one of the speakers and I chose to ask this question of Bob:  “What is the importance of developing infrastructure as a part of our missionality?”

The person reading the question really didn’t understand it and kind of botched it, because he didn’t understand where it was going.  And my handwriting stinks.

Bob, however, lit up like a Christmas Tree.  The question reader asked, brows furrowed, “Do you understand the question?”  Bob said, “Oh, yes.  I get it.”

Now, I confess, having just received and having been reading “Glocalization,” I was leading Bob where I thought he would go, and he did.  But he also went further than I expected and said some powerful things that I will simply summarize.

Bob said that we miss so much when we perceive that sharing the Gospel is dropping some theological information on people and expecting them to simply chuck their beliefs for ours because of its sheer genius.  Sharing the Gospel is also about serving others who are in need and in that service, they see more than mere theological information.  Besides that, it is just “right” to serve and help others.

I definitely saw that come to fruition in my recent trip to Vietnam.  I was asked “The Big Question” at least 10 times as we traveled.  Even on the drive to Tulsa from Ft. Worth, the Vietnamese currency that we carried was spotted on several occasions as we bought snacks when we stopped for the bathroom.

The Big Question?  “Why?”

Why are you here?  Why are you helping?  Why Vietnam?  Why do you care? Why?

The Big Answer?  “As a follower of Jesus Christ, we are compelled to serve the people He loves, and He loves the people of Vietnam.”

Now, here’s the big twist.  If you’ve read my blog much, you’ve probably read this, or stuff much like it, before.  Let me ask this, though:  “How is it that The Big Question is so easy to elicit in cultures other than ours, but we can’t seem to get a ‘Why?’ out of anyone next door to our church or even our homes?”

The thing is…  the thing is…  the thing is that we need to apply the same missional methods right here that we apply on the other side of the world.

People need to be asking us why we are serving those around us all the time.  It’s no wonder that we can’t seem to make a dent in the generations (we are now at 2) that have opted out of the church in America.

What are you doing to build the infrastructure of your local context?  What are you doing to elicit The Big Question?

Glocal - Global and Local are the same, as technology has brought continuity of context across cultures.  If so, we should be doing here what we do there.  It works there.  It works here.

Why don’t we?

Apparently, someone in our house likes bananas.

I walked into the kitchen today and found these two clumps newly purchased with a slightly more ripe bunch behind the Cheetos.

I might be about to start the Banana diet, but just didn’t know it, yet.  More details may follow.

Or they may not.

Feel free to check out other pictures on my photoblog.

Just a few simple things I learned from my trip to Vietnam.  More introspective things later.

1. Pack light.  I actually am a very light packer, but I took a huge suitcase - half of which was filled with soccer equipment.  That suitcase became a huge pain.
2. Take the essentials with you.  I did this because I was advised to do so, and it really came in handy to have everything in my backpack.
3. Watch for pickpockets.  I was being trailed at least three times that I happened to catch out of the corner of my eye.  I was able to turn and position myself quickly in a manner that protected my stuff and put them on the spot.  That kind of surprised them.  They aren’t used to being put in that position.
4. Relating to #3, don’t carry your passport everywhere when you are there.  Leave it in a secure place and take a copy of the picture page just in case you need it.  You don’t want that stolen.
5. I need to lose weight.  Again.  It is very hard to travel when you are heavy.  I lost a lot of weight last year, but put a lot back on, as often happens.  I’m going to have to get back on it.
6. God is amazing.  One of those things I actually already knew, but it was fun to see in a new way.
7. There are many things that are universal:  Jimmy Strong’s ability to relate to children, mothers that protect their children and children’s love to play.
8. Global perspective is invaluable.
9. The world is flat - the internet allowed my church and others to follow our trek through Vietnam and be connected with us despite the distance.
10. Americans are rude.  Everyone talked to us everywhere we went.  Everyone but Americans.  We introduced ourselves and they would often walk away without a word.  Interesting.  No wonder the world sees us this way.  It’s true… at least a little.

One of the interesting blogs that I have found - in my constant evaluation of what I spend my time reading - is the blog SBC Voices.  Tony Kummer (Said at Southern & Proto Kummeropolis among others) has become quite prolific in his blogging.  SBC Voices now tracks 289 blogs that are the words and thoughts of Southern Baptists across the blogosphere.

At the top of the page is a reader of what Tony calls “the best” of the articles from the SBC blogosphere and below that is a box that simply runs the latest offerings.

Below that, apparently, is a mock up of March Madness, called Blog Madness, in which you might vote for your favorite SBC Blogs.  Believe it or not, yours truly is still considered worthy of a vote or two.  You can find me in the Midwest Region, along with some friends:  Timmy Brister, Micah Fries, Kevin Bussey, Les Puryear and others.

What impresses me about the set up is the voting mechanism that Tony has set up within the post itself.  You can vote in each of the four regions and it will reveal the results without reloading the page or taking you to another page.

Tony:  Consider this an invitation to tell us about this polling mechanism.  We like it.

The day between the day of Christ’s death on the Cross and the day of His resurrection was a day of mourning.  A day of no hope.  As the Holy Spirit had yet to quicken the minds and hearts of the disciples - not yet Apostles - they were unable to comprehend all that Jesus had foretold about His death and resurrection.

They mourned.

On a day set aside for the total devotion of one’s self to God, His glory, His sovereign work in the world, the disciples sat, most likely, befuddled and in hiding rather than in the Temple.

We take Saturday for granted.  We’ve heard for years that Sunday’s Coming.  Did you even remember that the famous sermon was preached by Tony Campolo, often maligned by conservatives for “liberality?”

Never mind that.  It’s off the point.

The disciples spent their day of worship ignorant of the Lord’s plans and thus in fear of assault.  They didn’t realize that in just over a month they would stand before Jerusalem with people gathered from the wide world and proclaim, “Therefore let all the house of Israel know with certainty that God has made this Jesus, whom YOU crucified, is both Lord and Christ.”  Emphasis mine, though I strongly suspect that is pretty much how Peter proclaimed it.  Moreover, they had no idea that all of them, save John, would willingly partake of the martyr’s death because they proclaimed this message to the wide world after it departed Jerusalem.

By virtue of our perspective, we are granted a day of celebration on Saturday.  Good Friday and the memories of the crucifixion are past us, celebration of the resurrection is before us.  Saturday is a day of ease for us.

Not for all of us, though.  As time goes by, our lives get harder.  Getting old isn’t for sissies.  You’ve probably heard that said.  Just past 41 now, I’m getting glimpses.  As life goes on, I begin to long more and more for my resurrection day.

My good friend, CB Scott has written a post that tells of his being caught between this life and the next, and of his lovely wife Karen, who struggles against MS.

I encourage you to read it.

This is a day of being caught between life and death.  For me, the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter is a day of introspection.  Caught between life and death and eternal life, I consider all that God has done and what He is doing.  I look to the day of His ultimate accomplishment in me, when He relieves me of my bent to sin and releases me to life before Him alone.

It is a good day.  I pray it is meaningful to you.

Not everyone who read the posts made it to the photoblog to see the pictures I took of Vietnam, so I thought I’d bring out a few of my favorites from time to time.

This week, I’ve not blogged as my return to the church found issue upon issue that required my attention. By the time I got home to my family, when I normally write my articles, I had no energy to write. I hope to return to something of significance in the coming week.

The marketplace site where this interesting jar was stored was, apparently, a “health food” store - or some version thereof.

I have to admit a bit of curiosity to the way in which these fermented lizards would add to one’s health, but I was never able to ascertain the thought process.

Next to the lizards was this liquor, made from a couple of fermenting (decaying?) scorpions and some roots of unknown origin.

It seemed to me that the primary “benefit” of the animals in the “wine” was the belief that the consumption of the drink somehow imbued the consumer with some power or aspect of the creature whose “essence” was being consumed.

This especially seemed true when we arrived in Lao Cai city and spent the day based in a hotel that had animal based wine in jars across its bar.

Toward the end of the day, I decided to investigate and found an enormous jar with an equally large Cobra in it. The body was wound around the bottom, the thickness of my 13 year old son’s arm. I moved a bow tied to the top of the jar to discover the snake’s head raised, hood fanned out as if to strike, it’s black tongue twisting forward out of it’s mouth. The hood was almost as big as my hand. I had left my camera in the room, believe it or not, and never had another opportunity to come back to it.

Imagine my surprise when we made it to the airport in Hanoi and, while looking for snacks to take with us, I found shelves of small bottles of “snake wine” lining the walls of the airport convenience stores. Each of them with a small cobra, hood fanned and tongue extended. While there, a gentleman appeared, I think from China because he did not speak Vietnamese and he and the store clerk communicated in halting English. He asked for “fish wine” as opposed to “snake wine,” but she did not have any. Next trip, I promise to bring back pictures of the snake wine.

On the other hand, Vietnam was once a part of “French Indo-China,” as you might remember from World History Class.  It would seem that the Vietnamese people adapted from the French both a love and talent for pastries.

We stayed in a bakery that rented four rooms above the serving hall. We had all four rooms. The kitchen was below the serving hall and the staff stayed on the floor(s) above us.

This display case was to the left as you entered the building, meaning you had to walk past it every time you entered or exited. I am both proud and disappointed to say that I only tried four of the options in this case during the three days we were there.

This bakery was started by Samaritan’s Purse (yes, the Operation Christmas Child folks - including Franklin Graham) as a place to work and get a start for “at risk” children, including orphans. Once they complete a training school, they get a job in one of four restaurants owned by the group, giving them a start in life they would be hard pressed to obtain otherwise.

This is a good job being well done. Also, I very much enjoyed the food. Three fried eggs with bacon sprinkled over them, served with toast, was $1.80.  Their coffee was strong and well done, for those who like strong coffee.  I do.

Suffering for Jesus on the Asian continent.

Last year I hosted a free NCAA Men’s Basketball Pick ‘Em Tourney and had great participation.   I hope that this year is no different.

If you want to join, go to http://tournament.fantasysports.yahoo.com/t1/register/joingroup

At that page select, “Join a group.”  You will then need to sign in with a yahoo id.  If you have one put it in, and if not, get one on that page.

At that point you will be at this page:

http://tournament.fantasysports.yahoo.com/t1/register/joinprivategroup?.scrumb=J2p33EW2Jsk

If you are already signed in with a yahoo id, then you can jump to that page.

There you will be asked to enter a group id:  63648

And the password:   havesomefun

The group’s slogan:  Nothing brings togetherness like sports competition.

Bracket picks are open so you can finish them asap.

I arrived at my front door step at about 4:00 am Tulsa Time, which is about 32 hours after we left for the airport in Hanoi. If you take into account the night train from Lao Cai Province the night before, it turns into about 45 hours of planes, trains and automobiles, during which I got about 6 hours of sleep - mostly on the train.

I woke up my wife, then later the kids and gave out presents, then went to sleep while they got ready for school. I woke up for the bathroom about 11:30 am and tried to watch a little tv and wake up. It was to no avail. Bonnie called me from school, but I barely remember it. She woke me up when she got home and forced me out of bed to get me started on the long road of recovery from jet lag.

Apparently, the rumors about jet lag are for real.

I appreciate the prayers and positive comments. In the coming days and weeks, I’ll post some of the thoughts and things I learned from the trip as well as some of the funniest moments.

I have uploaded new pictures to the photoblog before we left, if you haven’t check it in a few days. I am probably going to delete the last couple of uploads and then reload them with other pictures that I didn’t upload because I didn’t have time. There are a couple of train pictures that were too large and I didn’t have time to edit them. I’d like to put them in, but they would be out of sequence if I just add them now. If you get to checking and find a lot gone, then you’ll know what is going on.

Thanks again. I’m going back to bed soon. See you soon.

One of the real benefits of our assessment meeting was that there was a group from another church (Forefront, from Virginia) that was here working in the Ta Phin school. One of the nice surprises here has been that the Vietnam government has taken education very seriously. In the remote village we found a well built school with several classrooms and teachers. The forefront church had been there during the week and worked on several projects at the school.

Easiest to accomplish was the computer lab they set up. For about $1,500, they bought two computers and a printer from a local retailer. GVI and Sherman set it up. The computers were Windows based and in English, which is the way they wanted them. They did have some software that helped with some translation and programming issues that was pre-loaded by the local retailer.

Next, they had some ladies teaching English as a Second Language while they were there for the week. Everyone enjoyed this opportunity to interact, as they did during the playtime. The Forefront group also bought or brought some soccer balls, basket balls and a basketball rim. The created a makeshift basketball goal that the kids were amazed to see. It was evident that they had never seen one before, because when Brian (their group leader) through the ball to the kids, they scattered.

Of most impact was the water filtration and storage system that Forefront installed. This was a $5,000 project that included two storage tanks and a UV filtration system. It surprised many of us to learn that the people here did not drink the water, either. We were under the false impression that they were used to the bacteria here and that it was safe for them, but not for us. Apparently, the water isn’t safe for anyone to drink - but it is at Ta Phin School. They now have potable water on tap, thanks to the Forefront church.

While we were in Sapa, we toured various areas trying to understand the ethnic minorities that lived in the northern mountain regions. The most visible in the town are Hmong and Red Dao (spelled with a “D” but pronounced “Zao”) who sell their handmade wares from person to person. If you buy from one, expect to be swarmed by everyone else who will want you to buy from them as well.

We took a ride up to the Red Dao Village of Ta Phin that had become a bit of a tourist stop, unlike most other villages. The Government of Viet Nam put in a wide sidewalk to make it easier on the tourists, thus encouraging them to stop in.

When you pull up, the ladies jump and run from wherever they are to the van, where you will be swarmed with offers to buy their wares, from handbags, to scarves, to earrings, to blankets or wall coverings. Before the doors opened, Sherman gave us the warning that if you buy early, you will be incessantly hounded by everyone to buy the entirety of your time there, so if you buy, do so at the end.

As we sat in the van listening to Sherman, the ladies outside were pointing at us and chattering. I felt a bit like a monkey in the zoo, something that would come back to me at the end of my tour.

Each of us had a few ladies that followed us up the path, where we stopped at a stone carver’s shop first. We moved on to a local watering hole with a beautiful garden. Finally, we stopped at the home of one of the women, who agreed to let us come inside. I stayed outside and talked with one of the Red Dao ladies that had been following me with her baby on her back. Dennis came out and said, “Art, get in here and bring your camera. There is something you will never see again in your life in here.”

I entered the low door to what turned out to be a really spacious home, albeit one with a dirt floor and a fire pit just inside the door where a man was sitting. They led me to the back of the house where some meat was hanging from low rafters and something on a suspended platform that I couldn’t quite make out.

Dennis reminded me that they had just been through a very hard winter and many of their crops were suffering while quite a few of their livestock had died. Then he told me what was on the platform. One of their water buffalo had died in the winter, so they drug it up to the house and cured it with the other meat and ate it all winter long. You could still make out the horns and some of the other pieces left, though there was not much.

After we started back, the lady with whom I had been talking (who also asked me the BIG question: Why are you here?) began to work a hard sell on me to buy some of here wares. I had already bought all I needed and was watching my money, so I told her pretty early that I wasn’t buying. That didn’t seem to dissuade her at all. The only pause I got was when I told her that she had picked the wrong person. I had no idea why that made an impact, though I would soon find out.
As we got closer to the van, she was really pressing, though she had only one real sales pitch and she stuck to the same questions, “You buy from me?” “No.” “Why you no buy from me?” “I don’t have money to buy.” Slight pause. “You buy from me?”

When we were almost to the van, Margie bought a scarf from one of the ladies, and Gail admired it. I turned to my shadow and asked her if she had something like that to sell to Gail, because she wanted one. She turned and looked at Gail and then told me she had one but couldn’t sell it to her. I asked her why not and she said that the ladies that had been following Gail would be mad if Gail bought from her.

That’s what the pointing was about. They were picking who they were going follow. Once you’ve locked on to someone, it’s like sales people working the floor of a store in the US. You don’t poach someone else’s customer.

When we got on the van, my saleswoman got very animated. She started saying, “Hey, man! Crazy man! Why you no buy from me? I let you talk to my baby! Crazy man! Crazy Monkey!”

Apparently we were monkeys in the zoo. Or at least I was.