Lessons from Turkey, part IV

Only Jesus and people really matter.

Being removed from American culture for nineteen months, I no longer knew as well what was going on in the news, what the newest movies and music were, or what fashion trends were in vogue. Worst of all, I didn't get to watch Tigers baseball games! (Let's only hope that if I'm ever on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?, questions pertaining to 2005-07 are omitted.) While many people—and I am all too often included—fuss and worry about such things, I lived just fine without them. I had other Christians to live with, I had all the yogurt, rice, chicken, and lentil soup I could eat, I had my Bible and some good books, and I had (and have still) a Savior who hears my prayers. And that's really about all we need. Why is contentment such a difficult thing to learn?

Tag, I'm it!

Well, I've been hit--or tagged, that is, by Halfmom. Now I'm supposed to share eight things about myself that few people know. In the name of chain letters and all things of the devil, here they are.

1. I have an extra patella (kneecap) in my left leg. It's tiny, about the size of a dime, and it was discovered at age 14 during an X-ray after I was hit by a car while riding my bike. The doctor said it's believed that about one percent of the U.S. population actually shares this phenomenon.

2. I desire to adopt a child or have a foster child. I think it's such a beautiful expression of gratitude for what my heavenly Father has done for me, who "in love . . . predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved" (Ephesians 1:4-6). I think it's such an amazing thing to give up a normal, easier familial life and sacrificially take in an unwanted child, accept her unconditionally, and shower upon her the love she has never felt. Even this afternoon I was deeply moved when reading this in The Lutheran Witness
magazine (July 2007) about a camp for foster children. "Children in foster care struggle with the impact of past abuse and neglect. In entering out-of-home care, they also experience the loss of established relationships. They may be separated, not only from birth parents, but also from siblings and extended family members. They may have to attend a new school or move to a different neighborhood. These losses are compounded for children who spend time in multiple foster homes."

How much more has God, who "sets the lonely in families" (Psalm 68:6 NIV), done in rescuing us from peril and calling us his own children! "As for your birth, on the day you were born your navel cord was not cut, not were you washed with water for cleasing; you were not rubbed with salt or even wrapped in cloths. No eye looked with pity on you to do any of these things for you, to have compassion on you. Rather you were thrown out into the open field, for you were abhorred on the day you were born." And yet, while dead and "squirming in [our] blood," he graciously said to us, "Live!" and took us under his wing to raise and nurture us (Ezekiel 16; cf. Ephesians 2:1-10).

3. I'm afraid of heights. Don't even ask me to get on a roller coaster or climb a tree.

4. I have always envied people who can do backflips off of diving boards--I think it's so cool. Yet I am too scared to attempt a backflip myself, for fear of hitting my head on the diving board a la Greg Louganis.

5. I am getting mildly annoyed (or more) that friends of mine, even those younger than me, are continually getting engaged and married, while I'm not even dating anyone. I think I can count on one hand the number of friends from MSU who are still single. In an age when more and more people are postponing marriage until their late twenties or even thirties, why do I feel this background desire--perhaps even pressure--to find a life partner with whom to share my every moment and serve the Lord alongside? Or is this simply the good ol' sin of coveting, that is, "wanting what is another's, desiring what I don't have rather than appreciating what I do have. To covet is to fantasize a life other than what is given to me."*

6. I used to play the handbells. (Oh, the things that happen when you grow up in a Lutheran gradeschool!)

7. I want to become more literate in "the classics" and in poetry and also become a better writer. Being a verbal processor, I often spout out far more words than are needed to get across my point. This is at its worst when I try to form thought-provoking questions while leading a Bible study or teaching a science lesson in the classroom. As a result, people get lost and wonder what my question actually is. Good writers, especially poets, learn how to use language as pointedly and carefully as possible, loathing even a syllable's waste.

8. Secret or not, I have long possessed underdeveloped artistic skills. (Perhaps this is why I watch Home and Garden Television with my mom.) When I was a child, you couldn't pry pencils out of my hand; I was continually drawing. I even had this funny, rather bulbous callus on my middle finger from where the pencil pressed. My kindergarten teacher has even kept drawings of mine since 1986, thinking I would become a renowned artist some day. Then, since my senior year of high school, I've enjoyed casual photography. One of these days, I really need to take some classes in photography, particularly photojournalism and Adobe Photoshop. "To one he gave five talents. . . ."

. . . and a bonus #9: I've had some super cool costumes in my day. In preschool my dad made me a robot costume consisting of a large cardboard box covered in aluminum foil and bedecked with all manner of flashing lights, gauges, switches, and the like. In kindergarten my mom masterfully made an insulated shark costume for Halloween, complete with a dorsal fin. I looked out of its toothy mouth. Then in my Ninja Turtles phase, I made a Shredder costume and other assorted Samurai gear from cardboard and fabric scraps around the house. Sweet.
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*Eugene H. Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm B. Eerdmans, 2005), 259.

Lessons from Turkey, part III

I have no clue what I’m doing—but God does.

In his second letter to Timothy, St. Paul exhorts the young pastor at Ephesus to “[r]emember Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, the offspring of David, as preached in my gospel, for which I am suffering, bound with chains as a criminal. But the word of God is not bound! Therefore I endure everything for the sake of the elect, that they also may obtain the salvation that is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.”

In this letter Paul sounds a strong call to “share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God” (1:8), embodying the treasure of the gospel and portraying Christ as crucified. Part of his sufferings led to an earlier and less severe house arrest in Rome, during which he was able to preach the good news “unhindered” (Acts 28:31). Was St. Luke kidding when he wrote that? Unhindered? Really? If the gospel’s impact relied upon the Apostle’s eloquent communication and personal freedom, then the message would’ve stayed chained there with him. But God is the one in control, not Rome—or prime ministers or secular university professors or religious imams or family patriarchs—and by the power of his Spirit his word will accomplish its intended purpose in people's hearts!

This reality kept Paul going despite all his apparent failures and setbacks. He didn’t labor out of a desperate hope that perhaps he could woo a few of the “lost” over to Christ’s side; nay, he suffered “for the sake of the elect,” those who are chosen and “found” by God. The Father has foreordained them for salvation, the Son has purchased them by his blood on the Cross, and the Holy Spirit creates and sustains their faith. In other words, God actually saves sinners.

For me, too, God’s sovereign freedom in saving people really must be the only hope for the world. Even if I were a Turk and able to speak the language, I think I would have little hope of actually convincing someone that he is a rebellious God-hater in need of forgiveness and an estranged child in need of reconciliation, yet saved apart from anything he has or can do, simply on the basis of a Jewish rabbi who was ignominiously exterminated upon a Roman cross. And on top of that, he would need to deny his familial and cultural values (“To be a Turk is to be a Muslim”), putting himself to open reproach, and daily die to himself as well. Yeah, right!

Every day, I felt like I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. I was some goofy yabancı (foreigner) whose Turkish is pretty feeble, with little real understanding of the cultural mindset, experiences, and values. And yet people did come to faith through us and through the witness of others, both native and foreign, around Turkey and the Muslim world. C. F. W. Walther, the first president of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod (LCMS), concurs and offers this encouragement:

Ah, if this great, important, holy matter rested on the fervor of our love, on the abundance of our means, on the training of our missionaries; in short, if it rested on our will and on our faith and strength, then we would have a sad situation. For we are poor miserable sinners, whose love soon disappears; whose strength is only weakness; and whose knowledge is only patchwork. But we should not look at ourselves, but only at the fact that God has commanded this work of missions. He has promised to bless our humble work, and to bless it abundantly.

Accordingly my favorite verse over these past two years has been Romans 15:21 (quoting Isaiah 52:15): “As it is written, ‘Those who have never been told of him will see, and those who have never heard will understand.’” Amen.

Lessons from Turkey, part II

Our hope and God's goodness depend on his free grace.

Islam is essentially a works-based religion, i.e., being in a right relationship with God both now and forever is essentially a business transaction where we must do certain works, the “five pillars,” and life is lived as a tenuous “test.” I've met a number of students who waver under such an oppressive burden of perfection placed upon them. Many others don't care. None can have true hope in the goodness of God. Why? Because if God gives all good things but makes us earn him, then he withholds the greatest gift of all time—that is, if he is truly more beautiful and wonderful than all else. But I believe the God of the Bible is more awesome than all else. And so he is also the greatest Giver of all, bringing us to himself by unmerited favor apart from our deeds, and holding us near him in his hands for all our days (Isaiah 46:3-4; 55:1-2; Ephesians 2:1-9; Titus 3:3-7; 1 Peter 3:18). Furthermore, if God makes coming to him based upon our meritorious deeds, he is constrained by human will as to who will be saved, making him less than free. And if even God's plans are contingent upon human will, what sure hope can we have that we will overcome this world of chaos, evil, and death?

Lessons from Turkey, part I

Prior to ever heading overseas, a large part of my motivation was not only to help spread the Good News of Jesus Christ, but also to see God in new ways and come out of my time a more mature man. When I ask myself, What am I learning from being here? How am I growing? it’s often a depressing exercise in futility. I usually have no ready answers, and I’ve only become aware of even more sin in my life. I don’t pray much, I crave everyone’s approval, I was lazy and easily frustrated about studying and using Turkish, I came up with excuses not to spend time with students, I sought independence more than supportive fellowship with my teammates . . . the list could go on.

But yet I do find that I have been learning and growing. Friends have pointed out my humble teachability and desire for change, my skills in teaching the truth of God’s Word, and that I do in fact care about reaching Turks with the truth. And while I have no idea what lessons I’ll continue to learn now that I've returned to America, some lessons have stuck out to me as more consistent ones from my life in the intercontinental metropolis of Istanbul, Turkey.

The Trinity is essential to the gospel.

Five times each day in the Muslim world the ezan is sung, calling the devout to offer their ritual prayers (namaz) to Allah. Included in the ezan is the essential “pillar” of Muslim theology: that God/Allah is one, and one alone (similar to the Judeo-Christian shema in Deuteronomy 6:4). To ascribe to others the divinity relegated to Allah is an unforgiveable sin.

At first I found the concept of the Trinity (üçlü birlik) to be one of the most common questions or objections to the Christian faith. We Christians are clearly lying polytheists, claiming that Jesus was not only the “Son of God"[1]—a blasphemy in itself, for God does not have sexual relations with humans—but even the Supreme Deity himself. Because there’s no truly satisfactory way to explain the tri-unity of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit (especially in the eyes of a questioning Muslim), I started thinking more about what the Trinity teaches about the One God himself. [2]

Far from being the more distant, borderline deistic being that Allah is, the Trinity shows that God is emphatically personal, whose essential nature is one of relationship. “Trinity is not an attempt to explain or define God by means of abstractions . . . but a witness that God reveals himself as personal and in personal relations,” writes Eugene H. Peterson. “Under the image of the Trinity we discover that we do not know God by defining him but by being loved by him and loving in return." [3]

Because God has forever been in relationship with himself, this allows God to have always been loving without being dependent on the works of his hands. The Father has always and forever had his beloved Son, cementing love and joy at the very core of his being. For Allah to have someone to love, he needed to create humankind, and is therefore in some manner restrained and dependent upon us for his character. Thus love is not part of his truest nature, unlike that of our great and unchanging Yahweh.

On top of all that, the sheer mind-boggling physics of the Trinity itself, completely inexplicable by even man’s most strenuous intellectual gymnastics, upholds to me the validity of the Holy Scriptures themselves; their message is confirmed as “breathed out by God” (2 Timothy 3:16) and truly trustworthy. God is Someone far greater than my mind can ever conceive, making him worthy of worship, obedience, wonder, and fear-of-the-Lord.

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[1] I suppose we are half to blame for perpetuating the misunderstanding, given that we continue the notion that “Son of God” refers chiefly to Jesus’ virgin birth. Yes, that’s partly true. But in Jewish understanding, “Son of God” was a common designation for the Messiah, the man who was to be Yahweh’s anointed king in the line of David through whom he would justly reign to fulfill his promises to Abraham and redeem Israel from her enemies (see, e.g., 2 Samuel 7:11-16; Psalms 2:6-7, 12; 72:1; Romans 1:3-4). Jesus as “Son of God” also shows that he is so closely united with God the Father that his actions and sayings are one and the same (Luke 10:21-22; John 5:17-22). This is particularly seen in John’s Gospel, where Jesus is portrayed as God living and acting in the flesh (John 20:31)—something far different from the mere human Messiah the Jews expected.

[2] Is it of note that I lived in the district of Kadıköy (on the Asian side of modern-day İstanbul)? It was once known as Khalkedon (or Chalcedon, Latin), where an important church council took place in A.D. 451, cementing the doctrine of the Trinity. I also had the opportunity to travel to the neaby town of İznik—historical Nikaea (Nicea)—where the Coptic “black dwarf” Athanasius fought so valiantly to oppose the Arians and uphold that Jesus Christ is “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father” (Nicene Creed).

[3] Eugene H. Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2005), p. 7.

Lessons from a road trip

A few years ago all sorts of situations from my daily life would strike me as some sort of spiritual analogy or illustration; now that doesn't happen so much. But on my drove down to Richmond, Virginia, a few came to me.

Shaking hands with HCPS HR head Patrese Pruden to "seal the deal."

Thank God for cruise control. As would happen when one spends 800 miles on the road in one stretch, I encountered a variety of speed limits, such as the 70 mph in Michigan, 65 mph in our backwards-minded southeastern neighbor, or 55 mph through all the work-absent "construction" zones along the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Speed limits are rules; they're guidelines that must be followed. Yet even in a 65-mph zone, I found myself drifting along with whatever everyone else did, going with the flow of traffic and not giving much heed to how fast I was going--sixty, seventy, even eighty-plus miles per hour.

Isn't this much like our lives as disciples of Jesus in this world? How easy it is to simply watch what everyone else around me is doing and get sucked into that! Even at the bar on Friday night I had to be continually vigilant. And it's more than just unwittingly meshing with the ambient activity; "going with the flow" is really caving in to my own comfort levels and desires versus giving steadfast, alert attention to the truth of God's Word and the authority of Christ. I'm sure that it's more than just a linguistic coincidence that "disciple" and "discipline" both have the same root of vigilant training of one's mind and will. "So roll up your sleeves, put your mind in gear, be totally ready to receive the gift that's coming when Jesus arrives. Don't lazily slip back into those old grooves of evil, doing just what you feel like doing. You didn't know any better then; you do now. As obedient children, let yourselves be pulled into a way of life shaped by God's life, a life energetic and blazing with holiness. God said, 'I am holy; you be holy' " (1 Peter 1:13-16, The Message).

Richmond the beautiful: row houses in the Church Hill district

Urinal faith. In case you have two X chromosomes and don't know the Urinal Code of Conduct, there is a universal, unspoken rule that you never use a urinal immediately adjacent to a urinal in use. Period. So when I stopped to use a restroom at a highway rest stop, I thought to myself, "This is stupid; there are four urinal in here, but there might as well only be two, since by The Rule only two could be in use at any point in time. It's as if the urinal next to me weren't even there." But then I had a reality check: No, the urinal really is there, an objective reality, for anyone to use. We've simply excluded its use by our own made-up rules.

How much this is like our reconciliation to God in Christ! In 2 Corinthians 5 St. Paul writes of our reconciliation as an accomplished fact. "God . . . reconciled us to Himself through Christ . . . . God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them" (vv. 18, 19). In a twist of logic that undermines all human reason, the sins of all people have already been dealt with and put away. But we can fail to believe its truth and thus not receive its saving benefits. Christ is there for us, but we do not "have" him (1 John 5:12).

Likewise we can read in the Holy Scriptures that "if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation" (2 Corinthians 5:17); "we have been buried with [Christ] through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. . . . Even so consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus" (Romans 6:4, 11); "This [bread] is My body which is given for you" (Luke 22:19). I do not understand it at all, but it's as if the apostles preached in this way: "Your redemption has taken place. If you repent of your ways and believe it, you receive it, and your salvation is truly effective. But if you don't believe it, you reject the Son of God and the Father's gracious gifts through him, and you judge yourself unworthy of eternal life." If we believe that we are in fact reconciled to Christ, that we have been made anew by his Spirit, and that he is in the Sacraments indeed present with his forgiveness and resurrection-life, then all those things are in fact ours to use. Jesus and his saving benefits are there whether we reckon it or not. We can believe and receive, or we can cast a suspicious eye of unbelief and fail to take hold of all that he promises and offers.

More well-kept row houses in my district, The Fan

Richmond or bust!

Okay, so this is yet another divergence from my normal "theological" posts, but I've got to pass along the news: I got my first "real" job! The thirteen-hour drive down to Richmond, VA, on Tuesday did not end up in vain; I am the new chemistry (and perhaps biology) teacher at Hermitage High School, Henrico County Public Schools. (To keep this going, though, I promise that I'll write about some of my lessons from Turkey. It's just that I've been so busy since I got back to the States that I haven't had any time.)

Their human resources science specialist, Libbey Kitten, told me before that of the four candidates, I was her choice as the best fit for the job. I interviewed with the principal, assistant principal, and the two science department chairpersons. Our one-and-a-half-hour interview felt less like a formal interview than a conversation, and I felt remarkably poised and comfortable compared to other interviews I've had. The HHS faculty were very warm, enthusiastic about students and their school, and I noticed a unity and teamwork among them that was different from other schools.

After the interview I got lunch at Panera Bread with Libbey Kitten. One of the funny things she told me was that a major factor in her confidence in me was that I had spent the past two years in Turkey. She knew I could easily handle relocating to a new part of the U.S. and starting life out on my own with little difficulty, having already done so on a much greater scale overseas.

As we were driving back to HHS, Libbey got a call notifying her that I was chosen to fill the position as the new chemistry teacher. Almost simultaneoulsy I got a call from HR head Patrese Pruden with the congratulations. I was so excited and relieved to have a job--and at a good school with supportive faculty and administration, too! I think it's an environment where I can grow as a professional while continually facing new challenges from the racially and socioeconomically diverse student body. I'm a little bummed that I won't have my own classroom, but even one of the young department chairpersons had to do likewise her first few years. As the rookie on staff, I'm willing to pay my dues.

On top of that, Richmond is a pretty darn cool city. The district that I hope to soon call home, "The Fan," is really cool, with neat little indie shops, cafes, and clubs; the real highlight, however, is the non-stop blocks of refinished brick row houses. There is certainly a lot of history here, too. Not only was Richmond the capital city of the Confederacy, but even the site of Patrick Henry's famous "Give me liberty, or give me death" speech still stands (St. John Episcopal Church).

Now only two big decisions stand before me. (1) I don't have housing locked up yet, but I'm really hoping to land a really nice one-bedroom apartment that I looked at today on Grove in the Fan. It's a beautiful and safe neighborhood of some rental units mixed among families and young professionals. (2) It's my choice whether I want to teach full-time chemistry or split chemistry/biology, which mostly hinges upon whether or not I can get a cross country and track coaching position within the district. But compared with the pressure and uncertainty of not yet having a solid job, this is a huge load off.

Thank you so much, heavenly Father, for this job and for everyone who has aided me along the way. I feel your hands of blessing open toward me; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and steadfast love shall pursue me all the days of my life. In Jesus' name, Amen.

California knows how to party!

Just a few updates for y'all . . . 'cause the past week has been crazy.

Congratulations, Anne and Ryan! Almost as soon as I got into the States I hopped back on a plane and flew to Sacramento for my friend Ryan's wedding in Lodi, CA. I was able to spend a few days with some friends from my days at MSU, which was a real blessing. Sure, I had some friends before I began to follow Jesus as Lord, but if you were to ask me about them now, I'd surely put "friends" in quotation marks--or anything else that shows the reality to me of how different these guys are. Friends aren't drinking buddies or people you try to imitate and suck up to to garner their attention. They're people who accept you for who you are and use their words carefully to build you up, avoiding sarcastic I-was-only-kidding jabs that mince and wound no matter how lightly-intended they were.


Granted, I felt some distance, not having talked to some of these guys, let alone seen them, in months or even a few years. But it's good to find that we can still laugh, hug, dance like robots, support each other in the Lord, and--of course--play ultimate frisbee like always.

Then on Sunday we rolled out at 4:15 A.M. to drive down to Los Angeles, from which I caught the Amtrak Surfliner to San Juan Capistrano. I was greeted there by my uncle Chris and his daughter Lizzie, my one and only cousin. It was a treat to spend a few days with them in and around their home in San Clemente. Beach sand, brilliant sunsets, frozen bananas, and the Transformers movie--all good stuff.


Keep your fingers crossed. As if all that travel weren't enough action for a week's time, there's more. Today I had a telephone job interview with Henrico County Public Schools (Richmond, VA) that went pretty well, or at least well enough for them to say, "We want you, " and schedule a follow-up interview in person next week. This would be for a full-time high school chemistry position at a relatively good, racially diverse school on the outskirts of the city.

I also have another job interview at Haslett High School (near Lansing, MI) tomorrow morning.

I promise that I'll make good soon on posting some of my lessons from my time in Turkey.

Amerika'ya geldim!

As of 12:50 P.M. EDT today, I am back on American soil! It was nice to be home and eat tacos with my mom tonight; I don't think the weight of what just happened has sunken in yet.

My final few days in Istanbul were, well . . . heavy. Sure, I had a lot of people to see, errands to run, gifts to buy, and food to eat (!), but it was just the weight of knowing that I may be seeing him/her/it for the final time. Every step down the street, every bite of food, every minute with students or teammates left me winded, almost stripped of breath, trembling with bittersweet. I'd love to go back--and soon!--having given some two years of mine for the life of the city. When stuff like that happens, you just can't part so easily.

I'll miss you, all my fellow servants from this year.

I'll miss you, all you Turkish people, students or otherwise, who have touched my life and, hopefully, whose lives I've also touched in some way.

I'll miss you, Bosphorus, with your enchanting blue waters.

I'll miss you, Istanbul, as your windows flicker among the hills at nighttime.

I'll miss you, UCI, and the taste of heaven you've been (Revelation 7:9-10).

I'll miss you, brothers and sisters in the Lord, as you continue faithfully clinging to the gospel and mercifully offering its light with open hands to those around you. "Hold fast what you have, so that no one may seize your crown."