There is so much in Jackie Pullinger's message in this video I posted the other day that I had to transcribe it in freeform style that follows Jackie's delivery.  I hope she doesn't mind.  She says most everything I've been trying to say for the last several years, only far better.  If you're reading this in Facebook it may look a bit funky.  It should look ok if you go directly to the original post on my blog, at least it does in my browser.

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The principle of the Gospel is this:
    the Gospel always brings life
                to the receiver
                  and death
                  to the giver.

If the Gospel brought death to Jesus Christ why would we think that in preaching the Gospel it would any less for us? 

So no.

He says, “If anybody would be my disciple,
              he must take up His cross and follow me.” 

If it killed Him to give life to us,
    and he invites us then to do the same,
        why would we expect that it would be any less?

So the mixture of our message is life and death,
                and laughter and tears,
                     and such it is, but for us,

life is never ordinary here.

    Life is never flat.

And this is what Jesus said about His Father in John 17: “The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life,
        only to take it up again.  No one takes it from me.”

Jesus was not sentenced to die by His Father; he was allowed to choose.

“I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again,” and he said “This is why my Father loves me.”

God the Father had this extraordinary plan of winning you and me for eternity by having His Son killed.

But His son voluntarily responded.  No, it’s not so easy for Him to respond.  In fact he spent His whole life practicing. 

And even the night before it was still difficult for Jesus.  And he said, “God, is there another way?  Is there another way?”

And I know many, many people in the church say, “Is there another way?”  And in our Hong Kong churches it does look as if there’s another way.  Normal Christians live a normal Christian life, go to meetings, jump up and down on stages, while we are exhausted and dying, and “Oh you’ve got a special ministry Jackie,” and I say, “Well no, I think, think we’re all called to give up our lives.  Would you like to do this with us?  We’d really like some help.”

The poor people all over the earth who have never heard of Jesus, they are the poorest people.  They are desperate for food.  They are desperate for blankets, they’re desperate for medicine, they’re desperate for water.  The most number of people worldwide who’ve never heard about the love of our Lord Jesus Christ are desperately poor.  And they are not going to come here to hear the Gospel—we have to go there.

So . . . why haven’t people gone?

Something to do with guarding our life.
                        And living a normal life
                                                           so other people can go. 

But I say, “No, why don’t you all go if you’ve tasted such good things?”  Go the ends of the earth because those poor aren’t going to watch Jesus on TV.   They haven’t got electricity.  

        They’re not going to hear about him unless we go,
                                    so would you?

I’m here with a plea for you.

If you’ve known the love of God,
if you’ve tasted of His sweetness at all,
              there’s no other way to serve Him except giving up your life.  And this is voluntary. 

This is not a sentence of death . . . at all!

We’re not sentenced to death.  We’re just privileged
                                                         to answer His call.

C.T. Studd (emphasis mine)

it's not just about rescuing sex workers or preventing kids from getting started.  That's actually only the first step.

Not long after I felt God saying to come here, I heard the song "Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble" for the first time, at Urbana 2000.  Screaming it as loud as I could along with 18,000 others, I had something of a vision, of former bar girls as "dancers who dance upon injustice".  I still have that vision, only now the dancers have names and faces.  They're still getting freed up, still learning that they can dance, but they're coming along.

We started to make this video for a contest that we found out about just hours before the deadline. We didn't make it, but finished it anyway.

The quality is better, at least for me, if viewed directly on youtube.

I teared up at the end of this video.  "If I'm not being taken advantage of, I'm not being like Jesus."  There you go.

This poem was written in the 1970's.  The coolness movement might call for some updates to this poem, but in deference to Steve and my need for sleep, I'll pass on attempting that myself.  You get the idea.

I do want to re-emphasize however that I'm not saying that the coolness stuff is all bad.  Much of it is quite good and I am grateful for it.  I just think we'd all agree that we need to be careful, to not let our packaging of Jesus get in the way of who He really is and how He may peronally want to confront us and the cultures we live in.

Whie a mission can be a self-declared purpose, in its Christian usage it refers to being sent, not only by a church or agency, but ultimately by Jesus Himself.

Does Jesus send people on missions, only to cancel due to an unexpected possible risk?

We made our family exploratory trip to Thailand during the SARS scare of 2004.  Flight attendants all wore masks, and we had to fill out a questionnaire upon arrival, verifying that we weren't sick.  Lots of trips were cancelled that year as well.  A friend commented then, "We should be going to pray for the sick, not staying home."  

A pastor friend of mind likes to attend the cool church conferences around the country--hip, branded events with names like Q, Echo, Exponential and Orange.  Q--the ultimate coolness name--is happening right now. I saw it on my friend's Facebook page and looked at the site.  Among the presentations this year are "Justice in the Suburbs", "Ensuring Social Entrepreneur Success" and "The Spirituality of the Cell Phone".

I am all for coolness in church.  I think Jesus was incredibly cool.  It's too bad that Clint Eastwood was never given a role playing Jesus.  I can picture him, writing in the dirt, "Where's the man?", then standing up with his back to the sun, calmly eyeing the blustering Pharisees with rocks in hand for a few timeless seconds, spitting at a beetle, then another pause, and finally monotoning a raspy "He who is without sin, go ahead . . . ." 

But I'm not sure that the current focus on coolness is even close to that of Jesus, because, at least as far as I can tell from my outside vantage point, it seems more concerned with packaging Jesus in cool ways than actually being like Jesus.  Jesus was cool because he was simply genuine and unpretentious, whether letting a prostitute kiss his feet or chasing temple merchants with a whip.  The current movement seems more concerned mainly with interacting with cultural ideas and forms, both affirming and critiquing.  To be sure, I see this as a huge improvement over the church's historical tendency to either criticize or ignore most of culture outside of christendom (besides the Super Bowl), or perhaps worse, to approve or reject cultural forms based on nothing other than traditional taste.  When I was at Wheaton in the 70's, secular classical musicians were hailed in concerts at Edman Chapel while master guitarist Phil Keaggy was relegated to the gym.  In that we've come a long way.

So churches are cooler now, but is it the right kind?  Is it getting us any closer towards really making genuine disciples of all nationalities, or is it in fact simply bringing our window dressing up to date?  It's one thing to be cool because it makes for good marketing, and another because it's simply who you are, single mindedly focused on your mission. One must ask: if our focus were more on directly being like Jesus than honing our packaging, may we not only be far more cool, but far more effective?

I wanted badly to just walk around the table, put my arms around Fon and tell her, "Here is a man who loves you.  Here is a man who won't hurt you."  But Thai culture isn't much for hugs, and besides it would have been a too quick in any culture, especially for someone hurt by men like this.

Fon's older sister is not far away, living with a boyfriend.  He just wants to be with her for fun, not get married.  When he told Fon's sister, she cut her left arm repeatedly.

We don't have a safe place for someone as wounded and love-starved as Fon.  The neighborhood around our main centers is too drug-infested.  I'll call Joyce at Abba House tomorrow. 

When we moved here nearly 5 years ago, Fon was 11.  Much of her hurt has happened since then.  Of course we couldn't have known her--she lives in another province.  But it made me think of how many more have been so badly hurt even in the few years since we came here; how many thousands were abused just this last week.

We can't keep letting this happen, folks.

1. Outreach.  Street Pastor of Sukhumvit, something like that.

2. Start a healing/recovery home for broken teen girls and young women.

3. Rural community development in Buriram or another province.

4. Build an international network that works to reduce the sex industry in Thailand.

5. Plant a non-traditional, culturally relevant urban church.

6. Start an alternative school for poor kids and young adults who have missed their opportunity to learn, if they ever had one.

7. Oversee The Well.  Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be doing that already.

I'm sorry for my warped sense of humor, but I ran across this ad and found it just too funny to pass up.

With these two dreams I was more than pleasantly surprised when Frank Santiago, 25, showed up last January as a part of a 3-person team coming to help Prang in Buriram.  Frank, whose given name is Francisco, grew up in inner-city Philadelphia.  "I got relatives in gangs, in jail, the whole bit," he told me, not proudly.  Frank credits a good persistent mom with keeping out of that life.  He came to the Lord as a boy and grew up in a good church.

While his initial commitment was 3 months, Frank came prepared to stay for the long haul if God should say so.  At this point Frank feels that God has said so.  Seeing the directionless youth of Buriram in a way feels a lot like back in the hood, so has wasted little time in diving hard into language study while introducing timid teens to basketball and hip-hop.

After his 2 other team members leave, Frank will spend time with us in Bangkok for training and language study.  From there we'll see where God leads.  Of course we'll also be looking for more help.

It also seemed like the subject matter was getting repetitive, at least for me anyway, and it was even getting hard for me to keep track of all the different pseudonyms I was using for different students at The Well.  Finally, as I drifted from writing, I noticed that hardly anyone wrote to complain.  

At the same time, it's not like I've run out of things to say.  Over the last few months I've been considering a restart, but with a new, broader vantage point.  I intend to continue to report on lessons learned from The Well, but would like to spend more time on more general topics relating to living like Jesus. They won't be long essays, mostly just short mentions.

Here's the first:

I have been following the story of Raymond Guay, the convicted child murderer in New Hampshire, David Pinckney's family who took him because they felt God wanted them to, and the town citizens who are literally up in arms about it.  You can't find a better example of what living like Jesus is all about.  "I was a stranger and you took me in." 

There's a good article in the Concord Monitor.  The comments below are especially telling. I'm not saying that people don't have reason for concern.  But the contrast of the fear and hatred of some commenters, next to the Pinckney's love for Raymond, and trust in God for their ultimate protection is remarkable to say the least.

I am so proud of Gai and Miaw that I could bust.  School has been a difficult challenge for Gai, who never really studied hard all his life until now, but he has hung in there.  His first semester he was afraid he would fail a majority of his subjects, but he passed them all.

But what has made me most proud is the heart for others that we see developing in Gai and Miaw more and more.  This was not the first time they called out of concern for other students who were struggling--not financially, but with other needs such as a couple with marriage trouble.  

I suggested they get a photo, write some info in an email and send it to me, and I'd see what I could do.  This is not something that would benefit The Well directly, but helping Gai and Miaw help this couple would be a big encouragement for them as future leaders with The Well.  Again, the total need is about $800.  However I do not want the whole amount to come from the foreign sources--this is a good challenge for Gai, Miaw and their friends to sacrifice to help their brother and sister.  If you would like to help, just make a comment here and I'll tell you what to do from there.

One student returned after a 6-month drug binge.  As anyone who deals with recovery knows, it normally takes a few attempts.

Another returned after a 2-year absence, while she lived with a couple of boyfriends, worked different places, went back to Buriram to care for her kids, and finally got the nerve to come back.  She's doing great.

Another called last night after being away for close to a year, ready to return.

Another who has been in and out several times, caught in tenacious drug addiction, spent the day with us yesterday.  She was back for a few days in August, but was bitter, cynical, obviously not ready.  She looked a bit better yesterday and said she may return.

Several have come from one bar.  Some were actively prostituting, others were just serving drinks and playing pool.  The latest member, who admitted she had been going with customers, joined us Monday.

A 14 year-old girl completed her third day with us on Friday.   We met her when she was out collecting garbage for recycling with her younger siblings.  She can't read, having finished only first grade.  The first day she only managed a half smile, but by Friday had brightened considerably.  

We've had a few extra guys with us for a month or so--one husband and 2 boyfriends, all with drug addictions, while we try to figure out what to do with them. 

I need to write a blog entry.

"While there is the occasional story of a couple who end up in a loving, long-term relationship, for the most part, it's the Kenyan who ends up eventually suffering."

Yes, we know about that.  The Well Kenya, anyone?

We have known Bpuu, 27, since our family exploratory visit to Thailand 5 years ago.  She still works the same spot on Sukhumvit Road that she did then--night after night, waiting for a customer.  Bpuu is quite pretty--we like to say she has a the face of a china doll.  But she is fairly simple-minded, as best as I can tell the result of environmental deprivation more than natural unintelligence. 

For a long time, even years, Bpuu seemed convinced that she would one day land me as a customer or maybe even a boyfriend.  It didn't help that being on the street, she didn't always see me with my wife, and occasionally when I was out on an errand I would run into her alone.  

A couple of years ago Judy and I enlisted a few students from The Well to take Bpuu to dinner for her birthday.  Since I spoke better Thai at the time, I made arranged a meeting spot with Bpuu by phone, in the entry way of a Walmart-like department store.  We all got there ahead of Bpuu, but since it was crowded, could not sit together on the waiting benches.  Meanwhile Judy ran in to get a cake and candles.  Bpuu came in, saw me and beamed, then her face promptly clouded when our students came over to meet her.  The rest of the night she barely communicated despite everyone's best efforts, until we got out the cake with candles.  "Put them all on," she requested.

Over time however I began to get through to Bpuu that I loved her very much, but as a daughter.  She stopped the flirtatious smiles and whispers in my ear.  Seeing her on Thursday for the first time in a few months, I felt no qualms about giving her a genuinely warm, one-arm hug, and offering to treat her at the nearby McDonald's.  She accepted, along with a ladyboy friend.  

As usual, Bpuu had little to say so I talked mostly with her friend.  I simply repeated everything I have said many times to Bpuu--she is beautiful, lovable, precious, and doesn't need to be doing this.  She looked away shyly.

Her ice cream finished, Bpuu tried to get up.  "I'm afraid I will miss a customer," she complained.  "You're not going to spend any more time with your dad?" I lightly objected.  She hung on for two more minutes, then made another attempt at escape that I had to allow.  She made a beeline for the door.  I followed her outside and asked to pray with her, something she usually accepts as she did this time.  I kept it short, asking for her protection, for God to get through to her how much He loves her.  She bolted for the street on my "amen", and immediately ran into a guy she knew.  I didn't want to stick around.

I have no idea how long it will take Bpuu to give up her lifestyle, but I plan to be here until she does.  She claims to use protection, but so does everyone, until they trust you enough to tell the truth.  One way or another she will stop someday.