Farewell Larry Norman

My dad sent me the following link http://www.breakingchristiannews.com/articles/display_art.html?ID=5037
to a story about the death of contemporary Christian music pioneer Larry Norman this past Sunday.

CCM is big business today. This is largely due to CCM pioneers like Larry Norman.

I remember listening to him in the 1970s. One of his most famous songs was "I Wish We'd All Been Ready," a song sung theoretically by somone left behind after the Rapture.

He certainly took much heat from the establishment for breaking the mold. Like many pioneers, he now appears like a genius, a prophet.

Rest in peace Larry Norman. Say hi to my mom. I'll look forward to meeting you someday on the other side.

A Hidden God

This Lenten season, we're reading a compilation of Henri Nouwen's writings that were put together into a series of Lenten readings titled "Show Me The Way."

The reading for today, the Monday of the third week in Lent, is titled "The Hidden God." As one who thinks a lot about publicity and communication, I was challenged by this reading. Nouwen writes (pp. 82-85)

He became a human being among a small, oppressed people, under very difficult circumstances. He was held in contempt by the rulers of his country and was put to a shameful death between two criminals.

There was nothing spectacular about Jesus' life. Far from it! Even when you look at Jesus' miracles, you find that he did not heal or revive people in order to get publicity. He frequently forbade them to talk about it. His resurrection too was a hidden event. Only his disciples and a few of the women and men who had known him intimately before his death saw him as the risen Lord.

Now that Christianity has become one of the major world religions and millions of people utter the name of Jesus every day, it's hard for us to believe that Jesus revealed God in hiddenness. But neither Jesus' life nor his death nor his resurrection were intended to astound us with the great power of God. God became a lowly, hidden, almost invisible God....

That's a mystery that is difficult to grasp in an age that attaches so much value to publicity. We tend to think that the more people know and talk about something, the more important it must be. That's understandable, considering the fact that great notoriety often means big money, and big money often means a large degree of power, and power easily creates the illusion of importance. In our society, it's often statistics that determine what's important: the best-selling LP, the most popular book, the richest man, the tallest building, the most expensive car.

It strikes me again that, in our publicity-seeking world, a lot of discussions about God take it as their starting point that even God has to justify himself. People often say, "If that God of yours really exists, then why doesn't he make his omnipotence more visible in this chaotic world of ours." God is called to account, as it were, and mockingly invited to prove, just for once, that he really does exist. Again, you often hear someone say: "I've not need whatever for God. I can perfectly well look after myself. As a matter of fact, I've yet to receive any help from God with my problems!" The bitterness and sarcasm evident in remarks of this sort show what's expected: that God should at least be concerned about his own popularity. People often talk as though God has as great a need for recognition as we do.

Now look at Jesus, who came to reveal God to us, and you see that popularity in any form is the very thing he avoids. He is constantly pointing out that God reveals himself in secrecy. It sounds very paradoxical, but accepting and, I would venture to say, entering into that paradox sets you on the road of the spiritual life.

Our Prayer

Lord, I pray for all
who witness for you in this world:
ministers, priests, and bishops,
men and women
who have dedicated their lives to you,
and all those who try to bring
the light of the Gospel
into the darkness of this age.
Give them courage, strength,
perseverance, and hope;
fill their hearts and minds
with the knowledge of your presence,
and let them experience your name
as their refuge from all dangers.
Most of all, give them the joy of your Spirit,
so that wherever they go and whomever they meet
they will remove the veil
of depression, fatalism, and defeatism
and will bring new life to the many
who live in constant fear of death.
Lord, be with all who bring the Good News.
Amen.

Living the dream of 22 years ago

This morning at our French church, we sang a song that triggered a memory. The song is Paul Chambers' "I Will Give Thanks To Thee," which is "Je t'exalterai Seigneur" in French.

The words in English are as follows:

I will give thanks to Thee
O Lord among the people
I will sing praises to Thee
among the nations
For Thy steadfast love is great
It is great to the heavens
And Thy faithfulness,
Thy faithfulness to the clouds

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens
Let Thy glory be over all the earth
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens
Let Thy glory be over all the earth

22 years ago, I used to attend a Sunday evening meeting at Wheaton College called "World Christian Fellowship." The weekly meeting would have about half of its time in worship and half about a mission-related theme. One of the songs I remember from that is the song that we sang in French this morning.

As we sang the first couple of lines ("I will give thanks to Thee, O Lord among the people. I will sing praises to Thee among the nations."), I realized that I've gotten to live this dream during the last 20 years. Since leaving my homeland in 1988, I've gotten to live in France for 15 years and in Côte d'Ivoire in West Africa for 2 years. Even during my 3 years stateside, I had in view to return back overseas.

The call to increase the number of worshippers of Jesus among the nations is still compelling to me. That's one part I love about where we live in Paris, as it represents many of the world's nations. The Divine Creator has gifted different nations and cultures with different creative art forms that need to be harvested to worship Him. This rich diversity creates a beautiful mosaic that should honor and glorify Him.

How certain are you?

Erwin Raphael McManus' book Chasing Daylight continues to be a stimulating read. In his chapter "uncertainty," he has a pertinent section titled "How certain are you?" (pp. 66-69). Because of its power, here is the entire section:

Several years ago I was lecturing at a seminary, and when I was finished, a young student shared with me that she had planned to go to the Northwest to help start a new church. She continued to explain that in the process she had discovered it was not the will of God. I asked her how she determined that, and she said, "The money never came through." I asked her who told her that lack of finances was proof that God was not in it. She said her pastor and her parents. They said that if God wanted her to go, everything would be provided before she left.

Our wealth and abundance of human resources have positioned us to accept a paradigm that provision precedes vision. This has been the foundation of building no-risk faith. This is a tragedy when a part of the adventure is the discovery that vision always precedes provision. I know this may be a real stretch, but it is always right to do what's right, even if it turns out wrong. There are times God calls us to do the right thing, knowing that others will respond in the wrong way. Jesus did the right thing when He left Gethsemane where He struggled to embrace the Father's will and began a journey that would lead to the Cross. The consequence to Him was severe. Our response toward His coming was to crucify Him. We should not be surprised that a lifelong journey with God might bring us suffering and hardship. If the Cross teaches us anything, it teaches us that sometimes God comes through after we've been killed.

Though Jonathan did not die when he engaged the Philistines, there is no principle that says everyone who does God's will lies--at least not on this earth. And if you're like me, when I imagine Jonathan at war with the Philistines, he barely broke a sweat. How many of us imagine his battle and find him wounded and perhaps even near death? Yet this is not unlikely. What would be surprising is to engage in this kind of primal warfare and leave unscarred. All this is to say, even when we live, it doesn't mean the victory comes without suffering.

If we are going to seize divine moments, we must accept the reality that we have no control over many things. We have no control over when we die or how we die. We must instead take responsibility for what we do have control over--how we choose to live.

Jonathan wasn't choosing to die, but he was choosing how he would live. He left the consequence of his actions in the hands of God. He chose to do what he knew was right. Again, God was doing something in history, and Jonathan gave his life to it. This realm of uncertainty is the place of miracles. Sometimes the miracle is wrapped around the person we become, the courage and nobility expressed through a life well lived.

Funerals may be the context where the most is said about us that we never hear. Over time you come to realize that it's not so much what is said about you, but who shows up. I have stood in the midst of funerals where no more than a handful of people came to pay respects, and even those seemed to be there mostly out of obligation or duty. Every now and again you step into a funeral that is really more of a celebration. I've had the privilege to step into moments like that. When I attended the service of Maxine Marie Papazian, out of respect for her brother, Dave Mushegan, I was struck by the scene. Although the auditorium was quite large, there was standing room only. I stood in the back and watched as the memorial progressed, and I was caught by surprise at what I saw: both genuine celebration and heartfelt loss. But what really struck me was the response of the people sitting in the back. You expect the people in the front to be intimately engaged in the experience. Those who are family and close friends usually fill the seats and rows closest to the ceremony. Often the back is filled with the polite, but distant, acquaintances. Yet that wasn's the case. Several of us who were standing against the back wall later expressed how deeply we were moved to see virtually the entire chapel equally grieved at the loss of a dear friend. I left wondering who would be at my funeral: Would people care even all the way to the back?

A person's life does not require some extraordinary event to distinguish it. A life well lived can be equally inspiring and its contribution also great. Sometimes that transformation is best seen through failure, defeat, and even death. Other times the miracle is wrapped around how God comes through in the midst of all that uncertainty.

When you move with God, He always shows up. It's just difficult to predict what He will do or how He will do it. If you wait for guarantees, the only thing that will be guaranteed is that you will miss endless divine opportunities--that you can know for certain.

Risk everything

In September 2007 I had the chance to help at a conference in Paris featuring Pastor Erwin Raphael McManus of Mosaic Church in Los Angeles. It was a stimulating conference and he is definitely an inspiring person and inspirational communicator.

I asked him to sign my book of his titled "Chasing Daylight: Seize the Power of Every Moment." He wrote my name and then "risk everything."

I'm finally getting back to this book of his. In his chapter "choices," he writes the following words (p. 14):

The most important moments rarely come at a convenient time.
Sometimes you wish that God would check your calendar first. The ironic
part is that our schedules get packed with the mundane and ordinary, and we
become irritated with God when He interrupts us with the miraculous and
extraordinary. The Scriptures are full of stores about people who were
rudely interrupted by God. We read them and long to have the kind of
adventure experienced by those men and women. Yet when God interrupts us,
are we willing to respond on a moment's notice?

Private Lives by Noel Coward

Earlier tonight I attend the monthly English play-reading at le Pavé d'Orsay. This was by far the best attended of all the readings thus far, with around 30 people present. As one who helps publicize these events, it was encouraging to see all the people present. I sat next to a man named Charlie, who is originally from the Bronx in New York. I recognized him from the previous play reading.

The story was of a 2 couples on the first night of their honeymoons. The new husband (on his second marriage) discovers that his ex-wife is on her honeymoon at the same hotel in New Jersey. The story line was interesting and his the actors did well portraying the characters.

Connections in Paris

An hour ago I dropped my son off at the birthday party of Lindsey-Meryl. She turns 6 and is one of his classmates. Two weeks ago she was one of 14 guests at our son's 6th b-day party. It was our first time to invite her. Today was our son's first time to be invited to her place.

While I walked, our son used his new "Cars" scooter for the 8 minute walk to her place. While outside her building, Louis-Rudophe, another of our son's classmates, showed up with his mom and brothers. Our son and he happily greeted each other. This was good, as they didn't like each during the last school year. Once, L-R pushed our son over in class and got a time-out for that.

When we entered Lindsey-Meryl's apartment, I noticed that our son was the only non-African background kid in the room. This mixing of races and cultures is definitely normal in our part of Paris. I was a little surprised to not see some Caucasian background kids from the class at the party.

For our son's party, we had a hard time narrowing the guest list. Because this is the last year their class is together before they move on to different elementary schools, we decided to invite the whole class. 14 kids came, including 12 from our son's class. I think that there were only 4 kids in his class that didn't come. From the feedback we got, everyone enjoyed the "pirate party."

Right now, we get along with pretty much all the kids and parents of the classes of our son and older daughter at this school. We don't have any "political" agendas about excluding this or that kid because he did this or that to our kids (although we need to be attentive to 2 kids in our daughter's class).

While walking to today's party, we greeted a Polish mother of a classmate of our daughter. While going back downstairs, I got to speak with Louis-Rudolphe's mother for the first time. Rounding a corner near our apartment, I saw a former neighbor (of Polish origin) and her teenage daughter, who was short 8 years ago, but now towers over her mother. I joked to her about how her daughter was taller than her now and that my kids will soon be taller than me. I waved at a worker (of African descent) at the frozen food store near us as we made eye contact. Immediately afterward, I greeted another neighbor, a pretty French woman married to a doctor.

It struck me that, 8 years ago, we didn't know any of these people. But now we know each other, at least by face, well enough in order to greet them in one way or another. Some say that Paris is an impersonal city. Perhaps it feels cold and lonely to some people. But, our part of town is home to us, in part because we know more and more people here. They and we are part of the neighborhood.

But our world stretches beyond the neighborhood as well. Yesterday and today, we have had visits from Americans passing through Paris. Both Christy and Dan love France and feel a call to it. Both are artists. Both are Wheaton graduates as well, although from different eras. Christy's parents were cross-cultural ministers in the former Zaire. She majored in theatre and minored in French. Dan majored in art and has more recently worked at a big church in California helping produce high end video and technical productions.

We've had them over before and I've maintained some type of link with both of them over the past few years. Being involved in a networking ministry mandates that we have some people that pop in and out of our lives. It's need when we have convergence between faith, art, and French, as is the case with Christy and Dan.

With Christy, it was a short lunch visit over cordon bleu, rice, and brownies. With Dan, it was morning coffee, followed by an Asian lunch of egg rolls and rice.

Soon it will be time to walk back to Lindsey-Meryl's apartment to get my son. I'm glad that my kids are privileged to get to mix with the nations in Paris. This is no small privilege, as God created the nations and loves each of them.

Ministry team diversity in the 21st century

Yesterday I was part of a leadership team meeting of the arts ministry la fonderie. As I looked around the room, my mind was boggled at the diversity of our team. Our meeting was composed of:
Jim: an American with la Mission Society
Marie: a French artistic woman
Francisco & Stephanie: a Portugese/American couple with the Evangelical Covenant Church
Igor & Jasmina: recently arrived YWAMers from 2 different Eastern European nations
Richard: an artist and teacher from New Zealand and who spent much time in Australia
Florent: a French info tech guy
Adrian: an American here for a year short-term project with la Mission Society
myself

The ten of us present yesterday represented at least 4 different mission agencies, 6 different national backgrounds, and lots of other background diversity. And we were missing key people from at least 2 other mission agencies and some other national backgrounds, including the Middle East.

I think that this diversity brings a richness that pleases God, who loves the nations. It brings extra communication (both verbal and non-verbal) challenges.

We began the meeting with a good time of prayer. With this diversity, prayer becomes even more important, in order to avoid misunderstands. I found yesterday's meeting to have been one of the best that I've ever been part of. I've missed this since not being part of the Belleville work team since our youngest child was born 2 years ago.

I think God is bringing together a solid team that will be able to support together the weight of the growing arts ministry.

In a meeting a couple of days ago, Jim mentioned the different between "doable hard" and "unhealthy hard." We may have been functioning in the "unhealthy hard" for awhile. But the growing team should help us shift to the "doable hard."

A century of aviation

I've been watching a special in French on the history of airplanes.

I've only known the era in which flying has been "normal." However, I am reminded that it was just over a century ago when Orville and Wilbur Wright had their first 4 successful test flights on a beach in Kitty Hawk, NC on December 17, 1903. The best of these only covered 852 feet in 59 seconds.

Today I was on the Internet checking out flights and prices from Paris to Manila for a conference in early May. This flight is just about half way around the world, however many miles/kilometers this is. Just a century ago, this would have been impossible. It would have been like what traveling to Jupiter is for us right now. But perhaps in way less than another 100 years, travel to other planets might become "normal."

The development of aeronautics has changed the nature of the life during the past century. It changed the nature of war, as bombers, fighter pilots, helicopters, and aircraft carriers are now essential parts of any arsenal. Travel around the world is rapid and relatively cheap.

Those in my line of work used to travel by boat to their locations. It took at least a month one-way in the early days, so one often wouldn't return "home" until after 4 full years. Nowadays, one can catch a plane from most places and be back "home" in less than a day. This allows many more chances for people to travel and experience different types of work for a short-term period.

My 6 year old has flown once from Paris to Budapest, Hungary. He's also made 5 transatlantic flights from Paris to the U.S. already. My 4 year old has made 4 transatlantic flights, while my 2 year old has already made 2 of them. So, just about once a year on average, they've flown to the U.S. I already have them signed up for frequent flyer miles. Contrast to my first plane flight (Detroit to Newark, NJ) being at age 19 1/2. It's already a different world of travel for my kids than it was for me as a kid.

This ease of travel has allowed us to know people from many different countries already. It makes for an easier mixing and networking with people from around the globe.

Surrender by John Eldridge

I've nearly completed John Eldridge's book "Desire: The Journey We Must Take to Find the Life God Offers." In the chapter "Letting Go," I found this excerpt titled "Surrender" (pp. 192-193) to be excellent. He writes:

The time has come for us to quit playing chess with God over our
lives. We cannot win, but we can delaythe victory, dragging on the pain of
grasping and the poison of possessing. You see, there are two kinds of
losses in life. The first is shared by all mankind--the losses that come
to us. Call them what you will--accidents, fate, acts of God. The
point is that we have no control ove them. We do not determine when,
where, what, or even how. There is no predicting these losses, they happen
to us. We choose only how we respond. The second kid is known only
to the pilgrim. They are losses that we choose. A chosen loss is
different from repentance, when we give up something that was never ours to
have. With a chosen loss, we place on the altar something very dear to us,
something innocent, whose only danger is in its goodness, that we might come to
love it too much. It is the act of consecration, where little by little or
all at once, we give over our lives to the only One who can truly keep
them.

Spiritual surrender is not resignation. It is not choosing to care no
longer. Nor is it Eastern mysticism, an attempt to get beyond the
suffering of this life by going completely numb. As my dear friend Jan
describes, "It is surrender with desire." Desire is still present, felt,
welcomed even. But the will to secure is made subject to the divine will
in an act of abandoned trust. Think of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Frederick Buechner has suggested that we contrast him with a picture we have of Buddha, so that we might see the difference of true surrender.

"Buddha sits enthroned beheath the Bo-tree in the lotus position. His lips are faintly parted in the smile of one who has passed beyond every power in earth or heaven to touch him. 'He who loves fifty has fifty woes, he who loves ten has ten woes, he who loves none has no woes,' he said. His eyes are closed.

Christ, on the other hand, stands in the garden of Gethsemane, angular, beleaguered. His face is lost in the shadows so that you can't even see his lips, and before all the powers on earth or heaven he is powerless. 'This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you,' he has said. (Now and Then)

Aur revoir Papa

This morning I drove my dad to the airport. From our perspective, it was a good 16 stay from our perspective. This past week he treated us to the circus on Wednesday and a heated pool on Sunday. The kids all loved the heated pool and circus.

Our 6 year old told grandpa that he would really miss him. I'll miss not being

It was good to have 3 generations of us together.

Thanks again dad for coming to see us.

Full week

It's been busy last few days. Over the weekend, we had birthday parties for my 2 year old (Saturday morning) and 6 year old (Sunday afternoon). We had 6 and 14 children, respectively. Both were busy events, but good celebrations, with help at both.

Today I had a long meeting with Jim at le Pave d'Orsay this morning. This afternoon we went to the circus with my dad. It was the best of the 3 shows that we've seen there.