small group reflection 11/29/11

Another day, another time of reflection, hunger, and boredom.

 

I kinda zoned out of the sermon this Sunday, also talking to a friend about their high-school reunion and whatnot. We ended up discussing Acts and the characteristics of missionaries and the call behind missions. It's a sensitive topic in that we often feel compelled to do so but really don't know how, and can't really do it ourselves. As one person mentioned, it becomes somewhat of a impulsive cultural phenomenon. If anyone went to Urbana, they would understand; after hearing such inspirational tales of struggle, growth, hardship and understanding, one feels called to go out and do such a thing. However, it may not be the case that everyone, though called to do missions, is suited to do missions.

 

A thing we had talked about for the church in Antioch is how they were fasting and praying for their people. Fasting isn't something we too often do, other than perhaps saving space for a bigger meal, or using it as a time of reflection. More or less, I think about the physical effects and the reality behind it - giving up something consciously so that we refocus and sharpen our relationship with God. It works because in giving up one of our most precious needs, we seek to fill it, and when we start relying on God for that one need, we might be inclined to call on Him for other ones too. The question is though - do we necessarily need to give up food in order to get closer to God? Or rather is it that we give up something of utmost importance to us, so that we allow that dependance to grow? I doubt we're all gonna live lives like Job, having everything being taken away from us, and yet still praising God for who he is, but I do believe that we start stripping away the layers that bound us to humanity more and more, we start to see ourselves less and less within the presence of greatness. It's one of those feelings that leave you awestruck.

 

Another thought had confronted my mind in terms of how we on the base level are in touch with our missionaries. On the whole, I gather that unless we have a personal relationship or a close connection with a missionary directly, we find it difficult to understand and to know who our missionaries are and how they are. Realistically, it makes sense because while they're away in one location, living out a separate life and a separate calling, we are pursuing our own direction. We realize and understand that the call to missions is an important thing, but we've compartmentalized it in our minds so it's just another thing that occurs in our own little world. We seek and strive to be in touch with one another as a church family, but at the same time, we find it difficult when these barriers are put between us. Even more so on a practical level for our church, I felt compelled to enter the Cantonese Fellowship. Even though my language skills aren't great, and even though I'm of a different culture, it pains me to not know what the other side of the church is going through. We are part of the same "family", yet we don't even know each other - we don't interact and mingle unless we're put together the very few times of the year. In the same way, I think that's what happens to us - we get caught up, and we see the idealism in the act, but confront and resolve ourselves to the realities we set upon ourselves.

 

That night, I thought about how we have to start seeing missions as a way of life and not merely a process. Whether or not we cross the ocean or cross the street, we are missionaries in our own right. It shouldn't be a standardized process where the steps are laid out before you. Back then, it was fluid, organic. People saw and confronted the needs of the people on the spot and they lived like the locals. They didn't come in with a "we're better than you and we need to give you aid because we're better off" sort of mentality. They didn't have a cushy world to go back to because the missions call was their life - at the end of the missions trip, they didn't come back to comfort necessarily.

 

It makes me think about where my place is too. Not simply on a missions scale but how I fit into this overall plan. Maybe I'm meant for destruction and someone was meant to stop me. 

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sermon reflection

I wanted to gather my thoughts right now, but a lot of short term things have been on my mind, mainly the toilet not working at base.

Within this week, I'm confronted by the future - both for my career path and for my life. I've settled into a routine that is both mind numbing and relaxing at the same time. I wanted to spend time with family on both sides, and I did, but not in the super cool grandson secret agent style that I thought I could pull off.

My life's desires are still the same; in fact, after mulling over the sermon today, I feel even more entrenched in my way of thinking in that the world is still going to be an enemy to the cause of good. It's never going to allow people to take breaks, slow down, and enjoy the simple things in life, mainly because every amenity, every pleasure, every basic freedom now has a price tag on it.

I want to say that this world could be a better place if we all worked together to achieve the same goal and that if we pooled together our resources, we could achieve anything. But the people aren't ready for that. They're afraid of change and what true power they can actually have if they can accomplish what's on their hearts and minds. That is why a mass of people are threatening - it's not their number, it's their potential.

Yet, we've squandered our potential for too long. We've kept to our own devices, and we've let people and other priorities slip through the cracks. It's why we hurt, it's why we ponder, it's why we feel guilty and ashamed of ourselves.

I want it to end tonight and every night. My hope isn't for a fallen world. It's not for total redemption either though.

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reflections from small group

am wondering if i'm dropping the ball at work and if i'll have a slow but abrupt demise.

Though I didn't show up for the first half of the sermon on Sunday, I arrived in time fer the main point in how we're opting for community with each other and God, whether we know it or not, and that our relationship with God alone cannot suffice for our lives.

Questions were asked today, ranging from the "what if" to psychoanalysis of Adam to the imposed characteristics of animals, so on and so forth. I had wondered for a bit whether this was a sermon that implicitly made sense the connection between man and woman and that it was to be some sort of eternal destiny. That question was never really answered, though the vibe of the talk and the feel of the room made it so, but I couldn't tell.

Community - the issue of what it is, and why it is so special. Why is it that we can't live alone, living with the animals? We can't, it seems because they can't fully know us and love us, nor we can do that to them. Humans supposedly can, and it's also the only way we know how. However, the community seems to imply the mix of people, versus an entire body of sameness. Not saying here that an Adam and Steve would make it work, nor implying that "love is the answer to everything" scenario, but I guess it's the entire image of God composed by those two types of being - man and woman. Both created without sin, one from another, but to represent the same Sovereign Creator.

We also talked about the idea of vulnerability and shame. When I think vulnerability, I think of a suit of armor. Vulnerability means that a part is not at its peak shape and that it is susceptible to attack. Most people don't look to be vulnerable, and most vulnerability is hidden. Some is feigned too - people invite others in, but to ensnare. However, in this vulnerability, there is progress, because there is development. This development only comes if someone wants to actually create something and not destroy. Too often people can look, find and capitalize on someone's vulnerability for their own gain. In a sense, by sharing vulnerability with another, one could also gain from that too, if they aren't genuine in their intent (At this point, I believe people have heard that cliche saying already). 

Shame and judgment are inseparable. People feel ashamed because they feel insufficient, or because they have not lived up to a standard imposed to them by someone else or themselves. Regardless of party, there is judgment there, but there is also the reaction. There can be disregard for the judgment and there can be repentance.

On top of that, there was the practical application of how to foster such an environment where brothers and sisters are loving and known to each other. One option was for people to be bold but discerning in sharing. The other is to create a safe environment of love. As I write this, I believe both can be sought in an ideal, but either scenario fully accomplished (at least with the presence of sin) would be destructive.

Boldness is only bold and most effective when others aren't. When you have a setting where that is the majority, it becomes the norm. Suddenly, boldness isn't normal and isn't striking. Within the context of sin, if it doesn't hit hard, people let it slide. The same would go in a safe environment, where nothing can crack the shell. We may rebuke, but if the people feel no repentance, then people may feel that it's only a place to be freely absolved, and that actually isn't the case without the context of sin.

Reactions are also out of our control in general, especially if we are vulnerable and not ready for it. Right now, I'm striking a delicate balance between saying I can't judge anyone for anything because only God can rightly do so, versus scrutiny of the actions. Both extremes are bad. The toughest problem out of all of this is realization. Realization of facts, reality and actualities - that we are alone, that we are sinful, that we struggle, that not every star shines, and not every night is peaceful. How do we reconcile and live our lives differently? How do we live them better, and how do we live them right?

In the beginning and in the end, the movements of life start with one man.

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