Blindsiding Prayers

I've noticed lately, something I am completely again when it comes to public prayer, and that is not warning people you are about to start praying. When I was in NYC for Pre-Field Training, I taught a 4th Grade Sunday School with another girl my age. Our 2nd week there (we taught for a total of 4 weeks), a man from the church came in to chat. It was just the 3 of us in the room for about 10 minutes. All of a sudden, he reaches out to shake my hand. I grasp his hand and look him in the eyes, and he closes his eyes and starts praying! No warning! I mean, seriously, I would like some sort of curtesy, "Let's pray." It's not that I don't want to pray with you, it's just that I want to know if we are shaking hands for the purpose of shaking hands or for the purpose of launching into a prayer. Because if I think w'ere just shaking hands, and you just burst into prayer (which gets really awkward for any third parties in the room by the way i.e. my teaching partner), I feel kind of betrayed. This exact same experience with the Hand Shake Prayer occured every week for the remainder of our time as Sunday School teachers.

IT happened again last night. I was having some post-dinner hot chocolate (from Oaxaca!) with the family I rent from. A missionary couple, who are friends of theirs from church, came over to visit as well. I was introduced to the missionaries and we chatted for 5 or 10 minutes about their work with YWAM. The husband missionary, who had been doing most of the talking, finally diverted his gaze from me, because our conversation had come to an end. He leaned back in his chair and randomly said, "Señor," which I assumed meant he was going to address the husband of the house sitting directly beside him. But no. He launches into this prayer out of nowhere. Warning please! IT's weird because in a moment like last night, you actually see everyone but the person praying trying to figure out what's going on. Sometimes you make eye contact, but at the very least, you see people looking around and then a light bulb goes off in each person's head. After a few seconds, everyone's eyes are closed, but you're still reflecting on what just happened. I would love to pray with you, but I'm just gonna need some warning so I don't feel blindsided. I mean seriously, why do people think blindsiding prayers a good idea?

I know I just posted not 1 minute ago, but this just happened...

I downloaded a FREE David Bazan live show from here. At his shows, he does Q and A slots where anyone in the audience asks him any question he or she would like.

The Question: "What's your daughter's name?"

The Answer (that brought this post about): "Eleanor...she's the shit."

:)

Evangelism and Rock and Roll

As a missionary, I do quite a bit of thinking about what evangelism should look like. No doubt, if you lived anywhere near the South or have any kind of contact with Christian people, evangelism has affected you in some way. (If you're not a Christian, that way has, I'm sorry to say, probably been very negative and hurtful.) Working with a campus ministry, I also hear a lot of students express their ideas of what Jesus meant when he told us to "go and make disciples of all nations." Opinions here in Mexico range from handing out tracks to "we should play songs at our Bible studies (which are heald outside in a very high-traffic area of campus) so that kids will here us singing about Jesus and come to our studies." Now, the purpose of this post is not to deconstruct these ideas of evangelism. Actually, I'm writing about evangelism because I was very encouraged a few days ago when I opened my Myspace account and saw a bulletin written by a band called Manchester Orchestra about a band called Anathallo. I have been following Anathallo for some years now, and have always been amazed by the mastery their music expresses as the gospel bleeds through every song. I have also had the opportunity to meet these fellows and have been humbled by the integrity between the things they express in their music and the way they live their lives.

The following is, in my opinion, what Christians in a band should be known for. Not for not using curse words, or for not playing/listening to "secular music," but for these things...



"When we started this band 3 or 4 years ago we had no idea what we were doing. Not that we know much at all now, but at least we know a little more. This is in part to two bands that at the time (all of us 17 and 18 years old) allowed our band to tag along. Anathallo and a band called Colour revolt decided to take a chance on us and give us almost every show they would play in our respective regional area. Not only this but seeing as MO had absolutely NO means of making money and no product to sell at these shows, we would of in any other circumstance come back home several hundred dollars in the hole. Anathallo was the "biggest" band we knew in the world, so they would be headlining all of these shows we would play. They didn't only treat us with respect and as equals, they would financially give us the same amount of money that they (the headliners) rightfully made... giving us (the shitty opening band) enough gas to get back home and eventually record an EP. I know its long winded but the guys in Anathallo have been the truest of older brothers to me, carefully guiding me through the idea and concept of touring, helping us in the band make wise and calculated decisions on management, label, distribution, and just troubled soul syndrome that most people acquire while on the road....

Ladies of the Night

You can't tell me that's not an intriguing title. Late Friday night, 3 friends and I decided to go to the Zócalo (center of Mexico City) to check out the world's largest ice skating rink which has been there for the entire month of December. This is not where the Ladies of the Night enter.


When my friends and I arrived at the Zócalo, the rink looked nothing like this:

"Why?" you ask. Not only was it midnight and so the entire square was lit up with Christmas lights, but there were virtually no people downtown as the rink had already closed for the night. Now, living in a city with a population of somewhere between 25 and 30 million people can sometimes feel strange. But it doesn't get much stranger than living in a city with 25 to 30 million people and feeling like you're alone. My friends and I walked the perimeter of the square soaking in the sensation of living in such a grand, monstrous city and feeling like it was somehow, all of a sudden, all for us. We were the objects of the city's attention. It was made for us and not for anyone else. This is also not where the Ladies of the Night enter.

We were a bit disappointed to find that when the ice skating rink is closed, you actually can't even see the ice. So, we saw the perimeter of the rink, but not the actual ice itself. I am still glad that we went, seeing as this rink has caused a great bit of discussion, and even dissention, here in the Distrito Federal. There was a big stink amongst most of the people I know viewing the rink as a distraction from all of the poverty in Mexico, and that Mexican goverment funds, which could have been used to give people food and drink, were insted wasted on entertainment. However, I have now learned that the rink was completely paid for by private donors. I just read a very interesting article discussing the social implications of the ice skating rink.

In order to get home from the downtown area, we took a main road named Tlalpan. Enter Ladies of the Night. Now, I had been warned upon venturing to the Zócalo that Tlalpan is one of the main drags (at least in our part of the city) for prostitution. What really blew my mind though, was the organization of it all. I was told, "Just look for lines of cars stopped on the side of the road. That's where you'll find the Ladies of the Night." I should also add that this road does not have a shoulder. These cars, suitors if you will, were stopped in the far right lane of this major highway waiting for some midnight loving. And so, without fail, when we saw the lines of cars, which ranged from 3 to 6 or 7, there was always a group of scantily clad ladies waiting to do business at the front of the line of cars. I really couldn't believe that, without fail, every line of cars was waiting for a visit from the Ladies of the Night. I speak of it lightly now, but it honestly made me feel deep sadness at how used these women are and the temptation that their service brings to men.

As we passed the 5th or 6th group of cars waiting on the Ladies of the Night, I saw a police car turn onto the main drag. I asked, "So, what do the police think of the prostitution here? Do they arrest the ladies?" The response should not have shocked me: "Are you kidding? The police live it up. They are the pimps." There you have it folks, a corrupt legal system that actually feeds on illegal activity. Not only are they feeding on illegal activity, but they are feeding on the lives of precious women and the improperly used desires of men. How do you cure a sick system when the very people who should be upholding the law are the leeches that keep the system bleeding and broken? How do you cure it when the very people you claim to want to protect and deliver are the very people you oppress and abuse?

Lord Jesus, come quickly.

Context

I know that it's been forever since I posted, and I do apologize. You can thank a trip to the States and some great time with family and friends for a lack of interneting. (Yes I did just make that word up, and yes, I do think that it should be an actual word.) The same people who use internet slang in conversation (yes, I admit I'm guilty) could start working in "to internet." I personally think it's a great idea.

ANYWAY, I was explaining to a friend the other day that I actually think about blog posts all the time. As I've had plenty of airplane rides, airport waits, and good conversations with friends lately, I've had an abundance of ideas. I'll start with this...

I've been thinking about context a lot lately. Not literary context, as in where the plot is set, or even the context of a conversation, but the contexts that we live in. After going to college a few states away from home, studying abroad, and now living in Mexico, I've come to realize how much context matters in our lives (and somehow I feel that I've only scratched the surface of the matter). Particularly, I've been thinking about how we grow (or simply change) in a new context without even realizing it. Then, when we return to the "mother" context (i.e. where you grew up or even returning to the culture of your family) we actually see the growth.

In scientific terms (I know, I'm stepping out on a limb here since I haven't had a science class in quite some time, but I think it does help to explain what I'm talking about), the context of our lives can be thought of in terms of controlled groups and experimental groups. In my case, the controlled group would be my home-town culture. That is, my family, my friends, my church, and general Spartanburg, South Carolina culture. Although it does change, the change is much slower than the rate that I change at as I experience another culture. The experimental group of my "life experiment" would be moving to another location (although, as far as I'm concerned it could be a change as small as changing from one group of friends to another). The outcome of the experiment (a.k.a. the data that we note) is then the change in personality, emotion, will, etc. that develops in the individual because of a change in outer circumstances to said experimental group. Only because the controlled group remains constant (or at least virtually constant) can the end result be monitored.

Now, seeing as I am no scientist, it is very possible that there are errors in my whole "life experiment," (especially in terminology) but the point is that we are constantly changing, especially as we move to another culture or life situation, and the changes are best observed when we are plopped back into our mother culture.

To make this more personal (after all, that is what this blog is for, to express personal thoughts), I often feel like I am not growing spiritually, emotionally, and in maturity until I return home and see the contrast of my new growth with my former home-town immaturity. Not only do I not that I have matured in these areas but my friends and family, the livelihood of my former context, express their observations as well. Having put this in a positive light, we must also consider that returning to an old context can also reveal negative changes. For instance, for someone who has always been very patient with people, returning home to stay in a parent's household may reveal that the individual is now not so patient as he once was.

Another interesting facet of context is how we behave differently in different contexts. Although hopefully not to a large degree, we are on some level constantly defined by reactions to other people. For instance, someone who has been known for being at least mildly confident, who moves away for her first job may find that she is suddenly terribly intimidated by her boss or co-workers and it not the same confident person in her new context.

This has been made real to me with the issue of calling this past semester. After coming out of college being very convinced I was called to ministry, having the backing of many friends and family in that conviction, I suddenly found myself here in Mexico with many insecurities about my calling. Fear and intimidation began to rule my thoughts on my calling. Only after returning to the States (for RUF training and Christmas) and having a very encouraging talk with a pastor-friend who knows me very well, did I realize how much destruction to my perception of my calling that fear and intimidation had caused. My gifts have not changed. My experience has not changed. But my context did, and that (the combination of people and culture) was enough to shake up my ideas of who I was.

We cannot escape context. In the story that we have been written into, it is our setting and the characters that we come in contact with. My thoughts on context have not been exhausted, and I know that this issue will be a continual source of discouragement and encouragement. Thank God that I am shaped but not ultimately defined by my context and that His providence actually utilizes the "where" and "with who" of our lives.