Lessons in local cuture

As I am writing this, I am sitting on our balcony, looking out over the mountains, waiting for the rain to start. The mornings here are beautiful. Clear skies, warm temparatures, a certain glow to the mountains and the city. Unfortunately, that's also the time we're in Spanish class. We've commiserated with our fellow students that perhaps we scheduled our classes for the wrong part of the day. In the afternoons, the clouds inevitably roll in, and even those days where we thought there was no chance it was going to rain, it begins to rain. It happened to us again--we left our laundry out, and it got soaked while we were gone. We've also been caught a few times without our raincoats when we thought we would be bold and travel without them. Hopefully we're learning our Spanish better than we our our lessons about the rain. Last week, we noticed that workers were installing three sets of speed bumps on the main road down the mountain. It's a fairly curvy road, so it's not really possible to go too fast anyway, but there they were--installing speed bumps. We noticed our taxi drivers complain as they had to stop and inch over them, and then, on Saturday night, on our way to the birthday party of a friend we met here, we discovered a large gathering of men at the top of the hill, blocking the road. They had dragged large rocks across the road, and all the traffic was being diverted to side streets and other routes. The crowd seemed a little restless, so we carefully stayed to the side and made our way down a side road to the party. By the time we returned, the crowd had dispersed. On Monday, though, as we took a taxi home from our class, we were startled to discover that all of the new speed bumps had disappeared. They were gone and they have yet to be replaced. In another cultural lesson, we were planning to go to a church with an 11 o'clock service on Sunday, but we received a text from our friend at about 9:45 saying that the service had been cancelled and we were free to find a different church. We scrambled to get ready and headed to the main Presbyterian church with a service at 10. We arrived at 10:20, worried that we had missed most of the service. There was a person up front giving what seemed at first to be the sermon, but then we realized we came in the middle of Sunday School. Three hours later, we snuck out of the service just before it finished up. There had been no need to worry about missing the service! We've also helped with some English classes for local children and visited the main park in San Cristobal (the slides here are taller and seemingly more dangerous than the norm in the United States--and that is a bit of a problem when you have a 2 year old with no fear...). We continue to enjoy the views, the people, and the local cuisine and seem to have settled into a bit more of a routine. The girls seem to be having a grand time, but Peter still doesn't like to be left behind in the mornings when it seems like the rest of us are heading off on adventures. We've met a family from London who are also taking Spanish classes and have been traveling around the world for the past year. They have a little over two months left and then head home. They have three children who match up fairly well with ours, and the girls are excited every time they see them, and they've been a real blessing. Elizabeth is scheduled to preach this coming Sunday at a church in Tuxtla Guttierrez--the capital of Chiapas about an hour away. She'll be preaching in English and it will be translated, but still, this is pretty intimidating for us, so your prayers are appreciated. On a funny note, Elizabeth keeps mixing up the words for onion and hair. As her teacher pointed out, while they do sometimes use onion to help the hair grow, they never brush the onion. We also used the local bus system today for the first time--there essentially a slightly larger version of the old VW vans. We got on and realized we had no idea how to tell the driver to stop to let us off...thankfully the row of ladies across the way from us took pity on us and sorted things out for us.

One Week in...

Well, we've been here a little over a week, and I can now safely say that I am married. (See last week's post). I did, however, make the mistake this morning of saying that I will eat my breakfast naked tomorrow morning. My teacher just shook his head and said, "Your house...your rules..." Despite these hic-ups, the Spanish language study has been going very well and I can now understand a fair bit of what I hear around me. Elizabeth has been very good in engaging in conversation and getting stronger each day. I'm a little more timid, and have been mostly creeping in the background trying to make sense of things. This is particularly amusing in taxis, where I'm generally in the front seat yet Elizabeth is having a discussion with the taxi driver from the back seat. The girls are now beginning to pick up words left and right and are quite thrilled when they know a word in Spanish that we do not. Peter greets everyone with a boistrous, "¡Hola!" and attempts to count to ten in Spanish: "Uno. Tres. Cuatro..." In addition to the Spanish, we've learned that dogs like to be on roofs, rain with hail is common, don't leave your laundry on the line when you go out--even if there isn't a cloud in the sky at the time (has already happened to us twice), and fresh bread, milk, coffee, juice, fruit, veggies and meat bought at the market on the way home every day are good things. We've also discovered the people here are extremely friendly and helpful, and we've learned a fair bit about the local culture and some of the surrounding communities. The local blend of religion is also interesting. There's a strong Catholic presence with churches in every neighborhood, we attended a Presbyterian church on Sunday, there are nearby communities where the Mayan religion is still strong, including one that has the highest per capita consumption of Coca-Cola in the world because they use it in spiritual rituals, there is a Islamic presence in town, and my classmate is Jewish and planning to open a tahini factory in San Cristobal. We're settling in fairly well, though we're still a bit overwhelmed by everything that is new. It feels like a really different world, but we continue to be amazed at the ways we see God caring for us in this new place. We miss everyone back home, and we're praying for you all.

Arrival

Five years ago, as part of our sabbatical, we journeyed to the Isle of Iona--a journey that requires multiple train rides, two ferry rides, and an extended bus ride over windy roads, and all that after you've already made it to Glasgow. I remember it feeling like a pilgrimage--a clear and good destination in sight, but an intentional and persistent effort was required to achieve it. I had a similar feeling as we came into San Cristobal de las Casas on Sunday. Our immediate journey started Saturday night. My parents and our family drove down to Chicago at the end of a day that saw Elizabeth run the 10K version of the River Bank Race in Grand Rapids and our girls perform as part of their dance showcase with their dance class. After we brief night's rest, we journeyed to the airport and found our flight. The flight itself was a bit rough and at least one of our children proclaimed, "I'm never flying again." We navigated customs in Mexico City without too much trouble and almost missed our connecting flight because we did not realize it required taking a bus from the terminal to where the plane was stationed in the middle of the tarmac. That flight, however, was much smoother, and we landed in Tuxtla Guttierrez on schedule. Mariano and Rosy Avila's friend, Edman, met us at the airport and promptly made us realize how much we have yet to learn about Spanish. He took us to his neighborhood, however, and his neighbors Pepe and Clara had prepared a feast for us--complete with watermelon juice to drink. This was Peter's favorite, which was good, because Tuxtla is hot at the base of the mountains and he was clearly not accustomed to the heat. We met Edman's wife and daughter, had a brief view of the city of Tuxtla, and then piled back in the jeep for the last leg to San Cristobal. We quickly realized why everyone has been telling us how beautiful this place is. Almost immediately you head up into the mountains, and suddenly you're looking down on the valley below in such a way that you feel like an eagle soaring above everything or a cloud gliding over the rest of the world. San Cristobal itself is almost 7000 feet above sea level and is nestled between a variety of hills and mountains. I remember my guide in Israel talking about how people never seem to forget their first glimpse of the Sea of Galilee as you come around the hills, and it felt the same way with San Cristobal when it finally emerged at the end of our long journey. We still needed to find our home for the next ten weeks, however, and we relied on the GPS on my phone for help. We realized we were in trouble, however, when it began telling us, first, to go the wrong way on one way streets and then, second, to go up "streets" that were merely staircases. going up hills. We did, however, find our rental home, and it's a beautiful spot with plenty of room for us and some great views of the sunrise over the mountains. It appears to be about the highest place in the city--which, when you're walking to Spanish class in the morning is just fine, but when you're walking back after three hours of stimulating but tiring learning, well...it can be a challenge. Taxis might become our friends. Waiting for us there were the babysitter we've hired to watch Peter while the rest of us take Spanish classes and a few of her family and friends. Her name is Gloria, and she is a pastor of a small church here in San Cristobal and a former student of Mariano's. We feel loved and blessed to be surrounded by so many friends of friends so far from home. The language classes so far are going well. The school is in a beautiful spot not far from the central market, and despite it being the start of rainy season, it has yet to rain. (that's supposed to change tomorrow). It's been really fun to see our children take everything in. Peter loves the motorcycles, he's fascinated by the dogs everywhere, and the girls play games seeing who can find all the colors of the rainbow first (in order) because the buildings are so brightly colored. We're feeling a bit more settled now that we've been here a few days, and today we had the privilege of joining Gloria for dinner at her house. Her son and his girlfriend helped us with the store and also pointed us to a park. We're all pretty tired with the walking and the learning, but it is going well and we're thankful for all of your prayers and support. It is particularly hard to leave Peter in the mornings, since he's almost always either been with one of us or with our parents, so pray that he adjusts to that and that we can be confident that this is a good arrangement. A funny moment from the first few days: one of our teachers, having just taught Elizabeth during the first session, asked me in Spanish if I was single or married, expecting me to say married. I however, thought the word for married meant "hot" so I chose single. He assured me that I was mistaken. Indeed, I was. Adios, que te vaya bien.

Mist on the Water (James: your life is like a mist . . .")

As I was pondering James' words on the brevity and uncertainty of life this past weekend ("What is your life?  You're like a mist that blows away and is gone . . .") Jay was enjoying watching the mist rise from Townline Lake while on the Fall Men's Retreat.  See the photos of the lake--before and after shots of the same scene, about two hours apart.

In some devotional reading I was doing this week, I came across this quote from Evelyn Underhill, a 20th century Christian scholar and mystic that seems relevant to our study of James.  She too writes about humility - knowing our place as frail, beloved creatures.

"For a spiritual life is simply a life in which all that we do comes from the centre, where we are anchored in God:  a life soaked through and through by a sense of his reality and claim, and self-given to the great movement of his will." (E. Underhill, The Spiritual Life) 

This is the life that James is urging us toward in 4:13-17 - a life soaked in God, steeped in God's will.

peace,

Elizabeth

Fights, Quarrels and Conflict

A danger with the passage that we looked at on Sunday (“what causes fights and quarrels among you?”) is to think that all conflict is wrong. That James is saying that we should never disagree with each other.


That's not what James is saying at all. Indeed, conflict is inevitable when a diverse group of people come together in an intentional community like the church. At issue, instead, is how we handle that conflict, those disagreements.

If we let it tear us apart or tear us down, if we let it escalate quickly to the point where we're bickering and quarreling and choosing sides, if we let the disagreement quickly degrade to a point where we can't stand each other or talk to each other any more, then we're handling conflict the same way the world handles conflict. It's destructive and ugly and sinful.

If instead, however, we find a way to talk through our disagreements, if we are able to pray together about our passions, if we are able to see one another as children of God even in the midst of our different convictions, then we have begun to bring life into an otherwise dark world. Then we have begun to build the Kingdom of God through an undying, unconditional love for one another. Then we have been an example to all of another way, a higher way, a way of following Jesus.

Humility is beginning to play a large role in the book of James, and this week is no different. Approaching our differences with humility, with an awareness that we might not always be right, is a huge step in moving in the right direction. It's also a big step in being able to bring our differences before God and seek out God's will in them.

And hopefully, we'll find the disagreements become few and far between as we seek out God's purposes and God's will—and place God's will before our own.
Peace,

Pastor Jay

Interesting development of the week: We have reason to believe that the flying monkey, Bobo, who makes a yearly appearance at Vacation Bible School, has been abducted and is being held against his will by a Boston Square member. He has always abided peacefully and quite happily in the drawer in my office until suddenly he disappeared after VBS this past summer. We feared the worst until just last week we received a clearly coerced e-mail proclaiming his supposed happiness and world travels. If anyone has any information about the whereabouts of Bobo the flying monkey, please share them before it's too late!

Wise Words on Wisdom?

The sermon on Sunday was about wisdom--and specifically that wisdom in Scripture is almost always described in terms of how we live rather than what we think.  James picks up on this by saying that whoever thinks they are wise should show it by their good life, by their deeds.

If this is the case, then why do we as a society often assume that those who are more experienced in life are also wiser in life?  Is it because we think of wisdom as simply a matter of learning from our mistakes?

In James' view, though, unless learning from our mistakes teaches us more fully what God expects of us--more fully what it is to live our faith day to day--then those experiences are not gifting us with wisdom. 

In my own experience, the people I consider to be the wisest are also those who have learned what it means to live close to God.  To begin to know God's heart and to act out of that knowledge.  Most of those people are much older than I am, though certainly not all.  Age is not a prerequisite to wisdom, nor a guarantee of it, but hopefully if God works on us long enough, we begin to clue in.  And this is where age is an advantage.

May we all have the grace and humility to grow wiser even as we grow older.

Peace,
Pastor Jay

Misadventure of the week:  Overheard in our kitchen when faced with rock-hard dairy dessert..."Would it be a very bad idea to microwave this ice cream for just five seconds?"

Taming the Tongue

Two thoughts as we continue reflecting on the difficulties of "taming the tongue" from last week's sermon on James 3. 

First, it stirkes me that if the tongue is as wild as James claims--if it's so difficult to control that nobody can do it perfectly--then that's a call for all of us to live with a heightened awareness of the need for grace in our lives.  When we understand the difficulty others inherently have in saying the right thing (and even more so in saying the right thing at the right time in the right tone of voice...), then we need to be prepared to offer forgiveness when something is said that hurts us.  The tongue, after all, as James says, is set on fire by the flames of hell themselves...so maybe we can cut the other person some slack. 

I still remember things my parents said when I was growing up that hurt me.  In fact, I've held onto many more of those than the many, many things they said that encouraged me or built me up.  Perhaps it's time I let go of the ones that hurt.

Second, using our tongues in honor and praise and glory to God does not mean that every word out of our mouths has to be bright and perky and upbeat.  The Psalms in particular are filled with words of sorrow and pain and suffering, yet those words too still bring honor to our God.  They just do it in a way that also honors the current circumstances. 

This also sheds a new light on the way we approach the everyday, including our everyday words.  One of the great strengths of the Reformed tradition is that we emphasize that every moment of every day belongs to our God.  This means that even the mundane and common tasks--and even more so the mundane and common words we use--can be done/spoken to God's glory.  So, then--how would one say, "It's time for the bus!" in a way that glorifies God?

Peace,
Pastor Jay

Midadventures of the week:  (1) We returned from the Pastors' Conference/Retreat we were at on Monday and Tuesday and I emptied my pockets only to pull out the key for the room we stayed in while there.  Oops--needed to make an extra trip to the post office this week.  (2) We confused many of the members of the study of Islam small group as they came to our house for the first meeting and were greeted by two children--ages 11 and 8--and they wondered what had happened to Emma and Brianna.  We were simply watching the kids of some friends of ours.  (3) Elizabeth had the hardest time convincing the folks at the hardware store it was okay for her to charge something to the church's account.  Apparently she wasn't on the list of approved persons, so they called the manager, who responded, "Wait--you don't trust the pastor?!"