Wednesday, January 27, 2010

A Good Hard Look At Romania





A Good Hard Look at Romania

Location: Top level of a now noisy Personnel train, just pulling out of the Medias train station (it is just after 4pm on Wednesday, January the 27th)

I have now come full circle in the past week. Last Thursday found me strolling around Medias, killing time between my train and my bus. Both trains were classified at the level "Personnel," but ironically the one last Thursday was one of the finest I have traveled on in Romania, and today's seems only frozen together by the cold outside--I will only be sure that it really will make it to Sighisoara when I have finally arrived!

The past week has been a perfect microcosmic look at my adventures in Romania. I have told you before that while exciting and rewarding, adventure often hurts. I traveled hundreds of miles by train, bus, car, minibus, and foot, from Sighisoara to Balan to Oradea to Calan and now back. The fairly mild winter whether I left transformed into a frigid winter, and I spent many hours shivering in train station waiting areas that were, in theory, heated by the old radiators leaning against the walls. It was a good week, but hard. Here were some of the hardships:

Two hours' wait in Teius in the middle of the night, experimenting whether shivering or the radiator kept me warmer.

A missed train in Calan, after two rather sleepless nights, one of which included an early morning display of food-poisoning or some such illness.

Getting pooped on by a bird-bomber as I entered school to teach English.

Mentally dueling with older junior-high school students who want to be too cool to respect their teacher.

Romanian conversations too far past the time of night when the Romanian side of my brain goes numb.

Running through Oradea to try to reunite with as many friends as possible in a mere three days.

Trying to juggle the right number of cell phone minutes as I prepare leave the country, balancing need with good stewardship.

Attendance at more church services in three days than all of last year (a slight exaggeration, but still not easy!)

Indefinite goodbyes as I take leave of friends who would like me to be around, but to whom I can describe no solid plans.

Understanding and responding appropriately to relational expectations as guest and resident, as friend and mentor, as boy and girl, as Christian and average Joe, as authority and servant.

So, yes, it was a hard past several days, but it was certainly worth it. I am not sorry I did it! Here are some of the blessings and smiles:

Making impromptu, homemade tortillas for a Ro-Mexican lunch!

Nearly clocking a stranger with an orange I hurled across a train station waiting room!

Wonderful friends and lots of laughter!

Amazing hosts everywhere I visited!

The beauty of snow-covered Romania as seen by train!

"Chance" meetings with friends on the tram and in a church!

Fifth-graders chasing me down school hallways for my autograph! (M. and I team-taught SIX English classes yesterday, including one during our break, and we visited two or three others during their break times. We used a guitar, rap, "Lean of Me", and "Why did the chicken cross the road?" as well as man other activities. At one point, a girl yelled outside to four friends playing at recess, and they were so excited that they dropped what they were doing and ran to join us!)

A Romanian family, a Malaysian medical student, a prayer team, two best friends with hearts for the disabled, and many others who are joyfully making a difference in their communities!

Home videos and story-telling!

Tasty Romanian crepe-style pancakes!

My friend parading around in my rather large shoes!

Visits to a couple of Christian bookstores!

Dreaming big!

Intimate times of prayer!

Certainly I am not doing justice to the life I lived during the past few days. You cannot experience with me the vigor of the young people worshiping in the House of Prayer. You cannot taste the meals shared with friends in Oradea, or understand the inside jokes echoing in our ears. You cannot dance with us as we taught "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" to students all the way up to the eighth grade. You might not be able to smell the waiting areas, wondering when the next train will come to whisk you out of the chill air current that somehow slides down the back of your neck no matter how many layers of clothes you are wearing.

But hopefully you can take my word for it. Hopefully you can celebrate with me God's work I saw in Romania this week, and hopefully you can be reminded to watch for it wherever you are. Thank you for your prayers, and know you were prayed for, too. I have a lot of thoughts, a lot of feelings, and a lot to say, but it cannot all come out here because we have more life to live. March forward through the cold, through the sleepless nights, and through the challenges of this world to remember that tomorrow renews our hope in the risen Son. I bless you in His Name, the Name of Jesus.

(Postscript: I also finished today a book that was loaned to me: Cross-Cultural Connections by Duane Elmer. While maybe not the most exciting book on the planet, I found it to be a thorough and true analysis of living in another culture. For those of you in the States who have time to read it, I think this book would help you understand some of what I have experienced, thereby making our reunions a bit smoother by narrowing the gap between the lives we have each lived during the past year. I find that Romanian culture often has many aspects of the Eastern and more communal cultures he describes.)
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A Rose From Home

A Rose From Home

My Story (As prepared for my church congregation this spring--2009)


I have a story to tell you. I am the main character, but the story is not about me. I have traveled several parts of the world, but my adventure has been closer to home. I am twenty-six years old. My story begins like many of yours…

I grew up going to church. I had been born into a family who labeled themselves “Christian,” in a country that labels itself “Christian.” Every Sunday found me attending a worship service and Sunday school in a mainline denomination church. I served as an acolyte, attended Vacation Bible School, helped my dad count and record the offering money, sang in the youth choir, was a leader in the youth group, and occasionally served as liturgist. Baptized as an infant, I was confirmed at the age of twelve, thus becoming an “official” member of the church. Then, hurt by the church, my family left to find another.

Have you ever been hurt by the Church?

After months of searching, we settled into a very large independent church. Things were different there, and I was quickly welcomed and at home among new friends that truly had a passion for Jesus. The Word of God was taught boldly from the pulpit, and I was introduced to a missions-aware lifestyle. So it was with regret that I said goodbye only a couple of years later to move with my family to another church. I purposely remained aloof, not wanting to make new friendships before I left for college a year later. Besides, I was loosing my faith—or so I thought—and I didn’t want anyone to know. I was asking scary questions like “Is there really a God?” and, if so, “Is He the Christian God?” and “Would I be Christian if I had been born in another part of the world?”

Have you ever asked yourself unsettling questions about what you believe?

So I headed into college under a cloud of confusion that only worsened for the next two years. Though I didn’t know what I believed anymore, I continued to go to church every Sunday, and to help lead worship in chapel. Most importantly, even during this questioning, I continued my morning habit of daily study of the Bible. I had begun at age twelve, reading at first a chapter per day, then ten minutes each morning, then an half-hour, and so on. So, only by the grace of the very God I doubted, I remained anchored in His Word and in His community, though I felt like a fake most of the time. Since then I have learned that “fake” is the worst insult the world can give us; that is why the label of “hypocrite” is so offensive.

Have you ever felt like a fake?

Six weeks with missionaries in South Africa followed by a year in France began to teach me what life with God is all about. I began rebuilding my faith, this time it belonged to me, in contrast to me borrowing the faith of my parents, church, or anyone else. In my parent’s basement in 2003, on either Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve, I invited Jesus to live in me; perhaps I had done so before, but I didn’t recall—but since 2003, I have never forgotten that moment. Unfortunately, nothing changed. I continued to do my best to act like a Christian, as I had done for so long.

Have you ever found yourself “doing your best” to be a good person, or to act like a Christian?

Though I did not realize it at the time, I was quenching the Spirit, even though I had welcomed Him into my life. During the next few years, the LORD continued to nurture me, and slowly things began to change. Several tough months in Idaho birthed my prayer-life. I spent three years being humbled in a job that was my informal seminary training. In 2007, a short stint in Mexico helped me to see things as they were, and not long afterward, I was baptized by immersion. No baptism of any kind can save a lost soul—only Jesus can do that. However, this baptism was an important covenant between me and God, symbolizing not only my death and resurrection with Jesus and my public profession of faith, but it also my life change, the beginning of my bearing fruit. “For each tree is known by its own fruit…”according to Luke 6:44. During the past year and a half, the LORD has provided me with an informal pastoral internship in my church, teaching me every aspect of discipleship. Simultaneously, I have been studying unceasing prayer and worship. I am now very different than I was five years ago.

In the Book of Acts (which tells the story of the earliest years of the Church) every time a person decided to follow Christ, two things took place—though not always in the same order. Each person experienced a life change, which I call the “baptism of repentance,” as well as the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, which I call the “baptism of the Spirit.” Looking back, I realize that the Holy Spirit was living in me in 2003, but it wasn’t until I surrendered everything to God, as represented by my immersion, that I allowed the Spirit to have His way in me and transform my life. “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now life in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (Galatians 2:20)”

Have you invited Jesus to live in you? Have you allowed the Spirit to transform your life?

I tell you this story for two reasons. First, I tell this story in order to boast in the LORD! May God our Father get all praise and glory forever! Second, I tell this story because it is relevant to you. Likely you have heard that I am leaving the country: I have let my light shine before you; please let your light shine within the Church, too! This congregation is in revival, and as each of you allows the Spirit to revive you, the entire Church will be revived and utterly transformed, to the glory of the Most High God. And for His glory is the reason He created us; the reason He sent His only Son to reveal Himself to us; the reason He became Sin for us and died for us on the cross—while we were still sinners; and the reason that He conquered death and offered us eternal life with Him.

It will cost you a lot—in fact, it will cost you everything, your very life. But if you have never surrendered your life to Christ Jesus, if you have never invited Him to send His Spirit into you and to transform your life, then do it right now. Just let go of everything to which you are desperately clinging; stop trying to do it yourself! This is the very reason you are still breathing in this physical life—God has been delaying His judgment of this sinful world because He is waiting for you—2 Peter 3:9 says He wants none to perish!

If you have already invited the Spirit into your life, then live like it! Bear fruit! Anyone and everyone who meets you or knows you or sees you or hears you should know immediately and clearly that Jesus the Christ lives in you and loves them! That is how stark the contrast should be between your life and the world around you!

Have you immersed yourself in God’s Word and in prayer in the last twenty-four hours?

If you call yourself a follower of Christ, then there is no excuse for not communing with Him daily! Anchor yourself in the Word! God has revealed Himself to us through His Son, Jesus Christ, and the Bible is a complete and accurate record of that revelation. And prayer is humbly letting Him love us. Let Him love you! God doesn’t need us, but He wants us! God doesn’t need us to live for Him—He wants to live in and through us! Let us love and fellowship with one another, even when you disagree! Pray for each other—the names in the church directory are a great place to start! Church, we are not only the Body of Christ, but we are the Bride of Christ. We have allowed ourselves to get bedraggled and stained—now let us stand to the glory of God! Let’s let Him purify us, restore us, and love us!

My dear Brothers and Sisters, if you have ever once been blessed by God our Father at work in me, then I urge you, please, take seriously His desire to love and work in you, beyond anything you can ask or imagine! I have told you the beginning of my story—may it end in glory to the Father, in the Name of Jesus, by way of His Spirit.

Now, what is your story?