"What is Love?...baby don't hurt me"

Yes, for those of you who recognize the song...it is very cheesy song associated with an equally cheesy movie. Michael Jackson died, as abruptly as that sentence. And today the interns and adult staff went through abuse training. Now at this point you might be asking what is the connection between the two: I would be if I weren't the person writing this post. Michael Jackson did not have a pretty childhood with an abusive father (I got this from a better source than Wikipedia) and not much of childhood. The famous Wacko Jacko pulled some crazy stunts in his life, including living with a monkey, making his home into an amusement park, and changing his face surgically to improve his looks. Coming from a house where what he did was not good enough, where abuse was prevelant, I wonder how much of Michael Jackson's life was dictated by his search for love and acceptence. I wonder if his view of himself could never let him be a content person. I wonder if there was a dark and earnest method behind Jackson's madness. I will never really know but I still feel sorry for the man.
Abuse happens and it affects millions of people every year. Today we went through the manual that New City has for abuse. When you really think about, it is startling and perverse that such a thing must exist. The policy is something that we must know, but that it must exist really sucks the joy out of a room.
Abuse manipulates a correct understanding of love and acceptence towards something unhealthy and unwholesome. An abused person never leaves uneffected out of the other side. I never cease to be amazed at how humans justify the greatest evils under the name of love; how we manipulate what should be treasured above all things into a degenerate mire of hopelessness and pain. We trade a heated house for a thin whisp of a blanket to shrug off the cold of winter, no wonder we can be so cold on the inside. Most abused people say nothing, just go one living their lives, seeking love and acceptence like the rest of us. The terrible truth is that humans seek what we know...
What do we do? Against the pain of our definition of love is the light of the Resurrected Jesus. His love is neither comical and shallow like Disney, lustful like pornography, twisted and egotistical like a manipulators, but gentle yet stern, accepting yet always seeking for our changing growth, and burning like a fire while healing like cool water. The truth of the Gospel is that God teaches us to love truly in a world where the word means anything. This issue is complicated, usually painful, and never ceasing. We need to pray that the Love of God perseveres in our own life because I am sure that in my life I will come across many people who have undergone some form of abuse. Perhaps this summer, perhaps in the years to come. I am sure that I will meet many people who abuse. I pray that I have the wisdom to teach love to both, and the ears to hear the storm that lays behind the whispers. Amen.

Does Jaws go well with scrambled eggs?

I have been enjoying living where I am. Just down the block are two stores quickly becoming the staple of my life. There is Luckies and The Bergen Fish Market. It might be fair to say that Luckies is the best store that has ever existed. A pound of Cherries is a $1 for one example. Fruit and vegetables are so cheap, the average dutchman would weep with joy and drive 40 minutes inorder to stock up. Across the street is the Fishmarket which sells Perch, Salmon, and Whitefish at outlandishly low prices. You pick the fish sitting in ice and they will fillet that sucker right up for you. I am enjoying buying and cooking food. I have learned how to make rice on the stove much like a rice cooker, so Richard and I eat rice fairly consistently. Mother, if you are reading this...be proud...be very proud.
These stores remind me of Russia. They are cramped near streets, the produce sits over the side walk, people touch it all day long. Going inside is an assault upon your nose...literally for the fishmarket. In Russia I literally shirked going into the stores the first few oppurtunities. Even after a couple of months I could find myself pausing. This past week and even tonight, I found myself doing the same thing. Why? Because I was raised in Supermarkets. Take the Meijers that is on Cascade and 28th in GR. It is the epitome of Sanitary. The floors are spotless in the midst of hightide of consumers. Everything is in its place and neat and clean and orderly. The isles are spacious (Yet we complain about how everyone is in our way, interesting enough). These stores though are tiny, the food is packed together and the level of sanitation that I am used is nowhere to be seen. But they sell quality food, fresh (for the most part...like all places you have check) and tasty. Both are awesome stores but would never survive in Suburban america. They do not reach the standards that the Suburban culture has of their food. I do not think that is bad or wrong...but sometimes I think that the Suburban culture has missed something in supermarket. There is something rather personable about small stores, knowing the cashier, and rubbing elbows with the person next to you while you shop. It has been refreshing to escape from the Suburban standards for food if only for a while. It has also make more aware of food culture as a whole, but that is for a later post.

Oh and I bought a pound and half of shark today...anyone know how to cook it? It could be interesting meal.

Liable to become a public charge

Today I was a sightseer. I usually do not like to be one for various reasons but today I put that aside and this day off of work Richard (roommate) and I went to Ellis and Liberty Island. Even though I was sightseer it does not mean that my mind has turned off, if that ever indeed happens. On Ellis Island while perusing the halls where 12 million people frightened but full of hope for a better life passed through, I came across this interesting fact. Those who did not have a trade or means of support, who were mentally or physically ill were denied entry into the United States in fear that they would become a burden upon society. They were given the label "Liable to become a public charge". At first I was passive about it, then I began to think...how do we measure the worth of a human being? While I understood why Immigration took that stance, something deep inside of me was revolted by that idea. Sometime our society can be vary utilitarian, ascertaining the value of person based upon how society views the benefits it receives from that person.

This summer I will teach kids in an area of the world that is looked down upon. Admittedly this can be a rough place in the world, I have found some evidence to that fact just by walking the streets and not walking the streets at certain hours. Yet today I talked to old Korean women who loved that I know how to use chopsticks and wanted me to know everything about Korean cooking. Today I saw kindness of person willing to help a drunk. Yesterday I saw a man work diligently, with kindness and sincerity that would make your heart joyful. All this in a city that is perhaps as liable to become a public charge as any. Today I stood at the base of the Statue of Liberty which stands for freedom, whose freedom? Could it be the freedom of all human beings, whether mentally or physically disabled or not? I think so.

I think also about Christian freedom. A freedom that is greater than any earthly freedom. I can imagine that many in this city are frightened, and have no hope. Whether they are liable to become a public charge or not, there is a message of hope waiting for them. The message waits for them because they have value, we have value in the eyes of our Lord. The greatest welfare state I can think of is the Church, and I am not only liable but definitely a public charge under God.

Am I making a political stance upon the welfare state...No, that was not my intent. I am saying welfare state should not divide the message of the Kingdom, we are men and women seeking to know true freedom. We all have worth as human beings, as being created in the image of God. And maybe next time I go sightseeing I will try to turn my mind off.

What did the gentle whisper say?

The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1st Kings 19:11-13)

I am going to give my blog intent, just do not call it a purpose driven blog. I want to write about the whispers of life. I have always been amazed that our most awesome God would choose to reveal Himself in a whisper. What amazes me more is that people also reveal themselves in whispers. We dress ourselves in the storm of life, but when you watch closely, when you stop to listen, you see and hear the whispers. The whispers reveal the true value of other, their fears, their worries, but also their true loves and true joys. If we are to mourn with people and to celebrate with them, how much more should we hear the whispers after the storm. I want to talk about those whispers, in myself, in others, where ever I am. And I think it is going to be more interesting than 10 am - Had a tuna sandwich, 10:30 am - only ate half the sandwich, 4 pm - funky smell from the kitchen. But then again people might enjoy reading about funky smells.