Debriefing Part I: Who I Am
In many ways I’m still processing India and will for quite some time. India showed me new things, gave me new ideas, developed ideas I already had, and reprioritized things. In debriefing, which is more or less a time of reflection and recovery, I’ve tried to put these things into words. I confess, the ideas that aren’t in an immature phase aren’t certain to me, and I really don’t want to hurt or offend anyone. There are some things in my life that are for certain. First of all, I am a Christian in every since of the word. I’m not a Christian out of tradition or to fit in with any group of people.
I believe Jesus is the Son of God and is God at the same time and that his perfect life, murder, and resurrection renewed the relationship mankind broke with God. I believe that those who believe that will have a love-relationship with God for eternity and those who don’t believe will not be included in God’s glory. I believe the act of Christ Jesus defines what it means to love, it defines who I am as a person, and defines my worldview. That said, I have nothing to offer but that love to those who are unlike me, and when I fail to fall short of my offer, I can only hope that you or whoever I trespass will accept my repentance. Nothing angers me more than blatant injustice, and if I am over-critical or apprehensive in reaction to it, I apologize.
All of that said, you know who I am now, and you know that I don’t mean anything I say to be any sort of attack. By God’s grace I do my best to love God, love my neighbor, and love my enemy. I’m attempting to let go of a hatred for unjust people, and remember that they are merely hostages in war (I must give Donald Miller credit for the analogy, which I borrowed from his book Searching for God Knows What). For the most part, my thoughts are religious and spiritual, so if you read nothing else please read part IV, which is on my spiritual thoughts in this journey. This is what I’ve been thinking about since I’ve gotten back from India, and most of it hasn’t really come to fruition yet, but I’ve gotten a lot out it already myself and, religious or not, I hope you do too.
Debriefing Part II: Material Readjustment
Did you ever see the Kevin Costner version of Robin Hood? At the beginning of the movie he’s been kidnapped by Muslims during the crusades and when he finally escapes and gets back to Britain, he runs to the shore, falls on his face and roles in the wet sand. I kind of figured it would be like that for me when I finally got back to America and in many ways it was. I mean, I wasn’t going to rub the ketchup smeared hamburger bun all over my face or douse myself in a proper gin and tonic, but when you walk off the airplane onto carpet that’s cleaner that any plate you’ve eaten off of in the last month, well you kind of want to kiss it. Don’t worry, I didn’t.
Aside from a completely confused sleep cycle, it really is great to be back. Need water? I no longer have to find a stand on the side of the road, make sure that they can make change, and hope for the best. Now, I simply get up, fill a glass with ice, and turn on the faucet. I no longer have cravings for beef, because meat loaf, steak, burgers, and spaghetti with meat sauce are normal staples in American food. A comfortable temperature is as simple as the push of a button, and Brittany and I are no longer forced to sleep on two twin beds pushed together. I was able to go into a bar that had more than Fosters and Kingfisher (terrible beers) and order a Sweetwater Pale Ale (I could only afford one drink for the time being, the gin and tonic will have to wait). I don’t have to hunt down an internet café and use a dinosaur computer to check e-mail
I’ve been reunited with my family, who I missed dearly. I have the comfort of my cat, or I suppose rather she has the comfort of me. Seeing a friend is as easy as calling them up, and once I recover from jet lag, I intend to see them as soon as possible. I’m back in my hometown, Chattanooga, which I knew I loved, but I didn’t realize just how much I appreciate this city (even though it is in the Nanny State).
While being back is great, there are things I do miss about India. First of all, I miss the Soni family. It’s not the same spending the afternoon watching TV, running errands, cleaning, playing guitar, or surfing the net. Being with them was really great, as friendships in India are quite different than they are here. It’s not uncommon to see two grown men, old or young, walking down the road arms around each other’s shoulder or holding hands. I certainly couldn’t see myself holding hands with my good friend Chris or walking down the street with my arm on Brad’s shoulders, and Kailash and I never held hands, but now I see how it’s so easy for them. I’m not criticizing my own friends, as they have been more than generous to me in patience, understanding, and even material giving, so I hope that I’m not making my friends feel like I’m ungrateful. I am more grateful than they know and wouldn’t trade them for any other friend.
All I’m saying is that friendship is different in India and I really value that difference. Kailash was incredibly giving, and it hurt his feelings if you weren’t receptive of his sacrifice. It was a pleasure for him to go out of his way, and it was rewarding to him if he was able to make us comfortable and happy. I kind of got to thinking about that part of the Bible where God is going to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah and Abraham petitions God not to destroy the city if he can find righteous people within it. I’m not sure what Abraham meant by righteous, but think if I have ever met non-Christians who had a genuine heart of love and morality it was Kailash and his family, and whenever I think about that passage now I think that if God was going to destroy India (which is as likely as destroying anywhere else), I would petition Him, “What about the Soni family?” It doesn’t feel right not to mention Suresh, my sitar teacher, who adamantly worked against the social grain, concerning himself with what was good and right above money. He had such a unique innocence about him that some might write of as simplicity (not in the naïve since), but I attribute to his heart for goodness. In many ways, it broke my heart that they aren’t Christians, because they all shared a love so Christ-like, I think it would have been great for them to see a God they could identify with.
I hope the religious commentary doesn’t offend any of my non-religious friends. I know my thoughts can be interpreted as condescending or even as “it’s a shame they’re going to hell”, but I don’t mean it that way at all. I just know that I saw people worshiping papier-mâché idols of gods in order to manipulate the spirits into blessing the person. I also know that the god I believe in isn’t manipulated and doesn’t bless a person because they have anything to offer Him. The god of the Bible has given the greatest blessing of all in the sacrifice of Jesus, and I just saw that same love in the people I became friends with.
There are other things I’ll miss about India. I’ll miss the food, because gulabjamin over here is disgusting and in India it is ecstasy. I’ll miss the inexpensive products like ten dollar handicraft wooden tables, four dollar movie tickets, ten dollar meals for two, twenty five cent mangoes, or a buck to take an auto across town. Speaking of mangoes, the lady we met at the airport gave us this mango that was absolutely the most delicious mango I’ve ever had in my life. The flesh yielded to my lips and the juice flowed into my mouth as its almost overwhelming sweetness aroused my palette. Better than the richest chocolate, sweetest strawberry, or finest gourmet dessert, the mango was nothing short of my top five most sensational experiences. I know that sounds really sensual, and I don’t mean it that way, it was just incredible. I imagine, in Heaven, if/when we eat we will have those mangoes for dessert. They might be served on top of chocolate mouse or with sticky rice, but even by themselves they scream of God’s creation.
With all the religious and food talk I digress, but that’s kind of the point of a debriefing isn’t it? To recover and reminisce. Anyway, I will also miss seeing beautiful women everywhere. See, I don’t mean that I miss having a bunch of women around that were sexy, but I mean, I miss seeing old, young, fat, and skinny women who wore such beautiful clothes that it was hard not to see them as beautiful. I guess what I mean is, I’ll miss sarees which compliment just about any woman who wears them.
There are things I won’t miss. I won’t miss the liter and pollution. I won’t miss the bureaucratic, money driven, selfish culture so many Indians are attached to. Obviously, cultural stereotyping is dangerous, and as you’ve seen I am very accepting and open regarding Indians, because, just like us, they have many cultural problems that not every Indian shares. Unfortunately, the mentality shared by most of the culture is imbedded in everything you do everywhere you go, so it really is hard not to stereotype. I know it sounds weird, but I really do love the people for the most part. I won’t miss crappy restaurant service that even the nicest restaurants delivered. I won’t miss the lack of fixed prices that made every purchase so uncertain.
There’s more I’m glad to have back, more I’ll miss, and more I won’t miss. These are the things that really stuck out in my mind. What I appreciate about my experience most are the people we made friends with, culture, food, architecture, and beauty.
Debriefing Part III: Learning from Each Other and On the Outside Looking In
In many ways, going to India allowed me to step back and look at the United States from a distance. From India, I looked at the United States and I saw a country that voted for people who sicken me. Their politics move with the wind depending on what they think will get the most votes, and I watch the American people eat it up as they look past the lies and corruptness and feed off of the entertainment. I see a country that misses and dodges the point with whether or not our presidents are patriotic enough when they pledge to the flag, if the female candidate is strong enough, and gay marriage. Leadership is a great quality, but many of our past and current candidates are liars. They are so full of the nastiest waste I don’t know why our country even considers them. I don’t know why we aren’t voting for candidates based on their stance on poverty, the environment, and moral fiber.
Strange enough, I also felt like I was on the outside looking in while I was in India. I guess, as a stranger, I was able to witness without involvement. I saw the worst poverty I’ve seen in my life, yet I paid 12.5% in taxes. Where is that money going? I saw a country driven by a discriminatory religion that valued human life based on a label given by a broken system. I saw a country that cared so little for life itself that I’ve had stronger reactions to accidentally running over a squirrel than most of them do to witnessing a human die or starve to death.
As soon as a white person comes in and starts complaining about all of India’s problems, everyone wants to say “You’re just trying to westernize them” or “mind your own business”. Even if those are fair assertions, it doesn’t make it any more ok for India to allow for pollution, prejudice, and neglect. These things are morally wrong according to Hinduism, so how is it westernizing to insinuate that a group of people shouldn’t be hypocrites?
I said I thought we had a lot to learn from each other, but then I didn’t come up with much. Yes, it would be great if India shared the same abhor for death, wise use of money, and strive for equality that the United States did. And it would be great if America valued family more, put love and sacrifice into their friendships, and had better public transportation. But both countries have improvements to make independent of the other. Both have corrupt governments, money management problems, and would rather concentrate on unimportant things in order to divert attention from imperative matters like poverty and pollution.
This is all to say, that so many people have asked me “What did you get politically/sociologically/etc?” and those are great questions I’ve tried to answer throughout my posts and here, but when you start getting into those things you can hit sensitive subjects. My point in all of it isn’t who you should vote for or how Indians need to stop being stupid and start using Western commodes and toilet paper, I’m just saying that as someone who was able to be between cultures for a bit, the thoughts I already had were a bit more accentuated and if either country wants what is best for itself, people need to start really reconsidering morality over popularity and money. Maybe my criticisms and their solutions don’t really address any of that, but I’ve heard so many people say “Why not Hillary? Yes she’s a liar, but the economy was good during Bill and that’s all I care about.” It breaks my heart, that we would value money over integrity or even dodge the real issues that will affect the future (including money in the future).
Debriefing IV: Spiritual
I read lots of books on this trip. I read Power Evangelism by Vineyard (my church) founder John Wimber, The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, Searching for God Knows What, and Through Painted Deserts both by Donald Miller. I also read some of Me Talk Pretty Day by David Sedaris, and has hilarious as it was, it doesn’t really seem applicable to this portion of the debriefing. Of all the books I read, I think I got the most out of Searching for God Knows What, but it’s hard to say because Narnia was so influential as well.
Even though it was the last of the books I read, I think Through Painted Deserts is a good place to start. The book is the autobiographical story of author Donald Miller as he and his friend Paul drive from Texas to Oregon in a Volkswagen van. It’s a rewrite of his first and unsuccessful book, Prayer and Art of the Volkswagen Maintenance which is a reference to the Robert Pirsig book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which is about the author and his son driving cross-country on motorcycles as he philosophizes.
I think Through Painted Deserts (TPD) really struck me; I found it relational that as Don was going on a long journey he considered heavily what he believed and anticipated the maturing of said beliefs. Before Brittany and I left we ignored our increasing weight, were a little less discriminating about how much we drank, and were a bit irresponsible with money. We weren’t gluttons, alcoholics, and didn’t go into debt, but I think it was Brittany who first admitted, “I think we think India is going to solve all of our problems.” It kind of hit home for me, as I really had been thinking that once we get to India we won’t be able to drink, so what does it matter?
It was kind of silly to think going into the pressure cooker it would solve any problems. By pressure cooker, I mean the atmosphere that will break you. In the pressure cooker you aren’t in control and the conditions are no longer pampering. The pressure cooker is a battleground for your emotions, spirituality, finances, and body. And we thought, oh I’ll lose weight in India. Sure it was true, but that didn’t mean that it was going to solve any problems.
As silly as those things were, it wasn’t silly to anticipate that this could be a time of growth and maturity, and it’s for this reason I found TPD so relational. Donald Miller made the point that so many people were quick to associate his trip with “going to find himself”. Just as Donald Miller pointed out, any such journey will certainly teach us a great deal about ourselves, but the term “going to find myself” is a bit strong. I knew that whether I learned something in India from the people, the books, or just experience that I would come back with new insight and maturity. All three of those things certainly contributed to what I’ve come back with.
What I can’t seem to emphasize enough is that I don’t think that I was enlightened, came to any conclusions to their fullest maturity, or am better than anyone for any of this. The following is mostly just thoughts, roughly undeveloped, that I had on the trip that was mostly based on reading, developed in myself and the people, and exercised in experience. Hopefully you read part I, which was more or less an introduction, and saw my beliefs and intentions of humility.
I’m increasingly disinterested in politics. It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with politics, and I’m really grateful many Christians have concerned themselves with the government. That said, I think the primary problem in our political system is rooted in the human condition.
When I was in India, I made a pretty ignorant statement to an Indian friend that even though I had plenty of money in India, that in the United States I was actually pretty poor. It’s funny what Americans think poor is, but there came a point in India when I really had to ask “Just who am I to think I’m poor?” And it’s true: I have a TV, cell phone, computer, and so much more. Just because a person is making ends meet doesn’t make them poor, it makes them materialistic, a sin I am regrettably the chief of. In India there’s not just poverty, but induced poverty. All of the sudden my inability to pay my cable bill doesn’t make me feel poor. It isn't uncommon for parents to cut their children's arms or legs off so when they send them out on the street to beg, people will feel more sorry for them and give them more money. It isn't uncommon for husbands who are sick of their wives to stage kitchen fires that wives usually survive only to be thrown onto the streets with untreated burn scars. Brittany and I crossed a bridge everyday and saw a man named Hanuman (named after the Hindu monkey god of fortitude and strength) who had no legs. The best we could tell through the language barrier was that he had been an auto driver and been in a terrible accident that took his legs and because he could no longer provide for his wife and daughter, his wife left him and took his daughter and went to south India. I could only picture him lying in the middle of the wreckage, waking to find his legs gone and knowing that his wife would leave him and he would no longer have a home, but have to beg on the streets. It's sad to see little girls begging on the side of the street, and you know it's a matter of time before their pimps stop making them beg for money and start making them have sex with strange and dirty men.
That is poor, and the questions isn’t how a good and just god could let this happen, the question is how people who believe in a good and just god could let this happen. Supply-side economics work great in politics, but it’s no excuse for a Christian to stop loving. Brittany and I visited one church in Delhi, and we went to the pastor’s home where he had a servant and a cook (two separate people). At first I was kind of put out that the pastor of the church was putting his money towards such luxury, but I got to thinking about it. First of all, he opened his house to just about anyone to the extent that one couple in his church who didn’t have a home were staying there until they could get back on their feet. Then I found out the church wasn’t his primary source of income, and that servants in India cost considerably less than they do in the States. I also realized that he was providing them with solid jobs with generous pay (apparently he paid them a bit more than the norm) and a good work environment (air conditioned).
Then I thought about how this afforded his family the opportunity to represent Christianity in front of two people who may never meet a Christian otherwise, and if the servants were Christians then it was providing within the community, which is also great. So, it’s not that the trickle-down effect is bad, it’s just it isn’t any way for a Christian to suppose that they might circumvent the need to love, but I think that it can provide the means to love. We must have a healthy fear that we don’t try and fix things or make excuses with only money.
My friend and I were discussing many of the problems in the church and both agree that the church could really use a reformation, but the question is where do we start? You can't just nail ninety-five theses to a church door, because the church is so divided. You can't stand on a street corner, because that's what bigots do. And we have jobs and wives and lives, and whether you're working a manual labor job or going to school and waiting tables, it's not so easy to just grab a television spot every Sunday morning or Monday night and put in your two cents, not that we would be qualified anyway. But I think I've found the weakness in Christians like us, who recognize the need for reformation. It's prayer. It's not that we're selfish, I mean, we're as broken as the rest, and we don't want to change the church because it's what we want, but we want to change it because we desire to further the kingdom of God. I'm so quick to wonder how I'm supposed to do this, and if I'm doing it right, that I never stop to put it in God's hands. It's so easy to believe you can control things, particularly in America. It's so easy to listen to a sermon where the preacher says "God is in control, and you never were in the first place", and of course you know it's true, but it's not until you really lose control that it hits you. So many times my determination was insufficient, but a simple prayer yielded results. Of course, prayer isn't a magic spell, and God didn't always answer my prayers, and He never did it in the way I expected it. Funny how our idealist plans are so fickle compared to God's plans.
All that said, prayer really is more powerful than we give it credit. In the pressure cooker, it's easy to remember to pray, but when we're in a place where we can't see the pressure cooker, that is spiritual warfare, we lose sight of the power of prayer. I'm not suggesting that you don't understand the power of prayer, this is more conclusions I've come to concerning my own life. I used to pray like it was a conversation with God, but prayer has changed for me in the past couple of months. It’s not as drastic as speaking in tongues, but there is a verse that says the Holy Spirit intercedes for us where words aren't enough. I'm not sure how to put it into words, but there were times when I unpredictably found myself in intense prayer and found myself in the very real presence of God. All of the sudden the crap (and that's just what it is) that we love so much doesn't seem so important. All of the sudden, it wasn't about "doing my part" or "being right" it was about doing right all of the time, even if meant sacrifice.
So, where do we start? Don't be right, do right (being right is good, but pointless without doing right). Brittany and I started feeding Hanuman (no legs) every day. Sometimes we'd save some of our meal and package it, and sometimes we'd even go into a restaurant and sit and wait for his meal without getting anything for ourselves. Within a week or so, Hanuman started making demands of us. "Bring chipatis [bread] at five o’clock", and he even asked us for money, but I kept giving food. I knew that the love we extended to Hanuman wasn't received. I knew that even though we took the time to find out his name and story, which I think so few people who give actually do, and when we took pictures with him we weren't afraid to put our arms around his dirty body, that he had a hard heart. I didn't really understand why I kept giving since his heart was so black and selfish, it certainly wasn't out of obligation, and in retrospect I think it's because I knew that what he meant for evil God could use for good.
Brittany and I had made friends with several people in Udaipur and we wanted to know Hanuman's story, so we told them "We're giving food everyday to this man with no legs, what do you know about him", but no one wanted to talk about him, they just said [paraphrased] "It's good to give to people who can't provide for themselves because they are handicapped. God will bless you, so give!" And it kind of struck me that our innocent curiosity about this man had led to the mention of God. Of course, they meant whoever their god was, but this presented such an opportunity and I was able to say "We don't do it so God will bless us, we give because our god has given us the greatest blessing of all."
These are all new ideas and thoughts for me, which are slowly maturing with the help of Donald Miller, CS Lewis, etc. I think Schindler's List is a great example of how a wealthy person can sacrifice. Schindler was wrong at the end of the movie. He breaks down because if he had sold his car and his gold ring he might have bought more Jews, but if he wasn't wealthy in the first place he couldn't have saved any Jews at all. At the same time, I don't want to come to the end of my life and say that I accumulated any amount of wealth be it spiritual or material that I didn't share to the fullest extent. In some ways, America seems easy because we can justify not giving material goods and simply love people. It's seems even the poorest people aren't looking for money from you as an individual (obviously some are, but I mean the people we have relationships with), but they want love and acceptance regardless of their income.
Narnia brought me to tears several times each book. It wasn't sadness, happiness, and I can't even explain it. It's just Aslan and how amazing He is. I think that Lewis must have really understood who Jesus and God really are to have created a character that essentially posed as another form of Jesus. It's not that I would pray to Aslan, but I understand Jesus so much more through Aslan. It's unfortunate that commercialism tainted the phrase "What would Jesus do?" because I think Christians really need to ask themselves what it means to be Christ-like and to do things like Christ would do.
I read a book called Power Evangelism by the founder of Vineyard John Wimber and he talked about healing and modern miracles ("signs and wonders") as a way of evangelism. I agreed with a good bit of what he had to say and liked the book, and I believe many of his stories are true, but in some ways I think he missed the point. Yes, casting out demons and healing the sick are miracles, but isn't the greatest "sign and wonder" the sacrifice of Christ? And isn't that sufficient in and of itself? Isn't God's love the only love in the universe than can unharden the hardest and darkest hearts? When I pray I feel a power so intensely great crying is the only emotion I can summon to respond. It's not the Beatles' hippie love, it's a love that encompasses the power of God in all of His anger, glory, affection, sympathy, etc. God can change the church, whether it be through us or someone else generations after us. God may never change the church, it may degrade until His return. All I know is Heaven is hardly an incentive to be a Christian. As someone who is a saved victim in a war, I gladly submit myself to the will of God to be utilized for His Kingdom. I don't want to be as successful a Christian as Paul for my own glory, but because I'm so excited to see God's glory. Obviously, my condition, being a sinful human that is, taints my alleged selfless aspirations to contribute to God's kingdom; all the same, I desire so much to rid myself of such selfishness.
We must remember that, just as Donald Miller pointed out that hate towards homosexuals and sinners is like shooting the hostage, that to wage war on the church in the name of reformation is shooting the hostage. We must wage war on ideas. I could attack godhatesfags.com founder Reverend Phelps, and at 21 with no degree I'd probably be justified in my accusations, but it would be of no real use. Instead, why not counter his hate by loving the hostages he is shooting? Instead of telling him that hate is wrong, show him how Christ would love.
Like I said, these are developing thoughts. I certainly don't think I have it all right, and I certainly don't think my ideas (that I've mostly borrowed from others) are all that deep and great. I just think, with as much humility as I can, that we live in a time that the church will either go into a coma or wake from their sleep and that God is empowering His people to work against the Enemy in this dark time for the Church.
