Santa: an irRelevant issue

Lately, I've been reading a lot of articles from Relevant Magazine. Recently I read one about being 25 and another about hospitality. The articles are typically thought provoking and as the name suggests, quite relevant. However this recent piece contemplates the advantage and possible benefits of including Santa Claus in a Christian Christmas celebration. While thought provoking, it did not sit well with me. I immediately remembered when I was in China working for the summer in 2010 and a 20 year old university student asked me, "Is Santa just Jesus when he gets old?" It seemed absurd to me at the time. But to someone outside the West, outside of the proclaimed Christian empire, both bearded men are the talk of the Christmas season. It would makes sense, except one is the real Savior of the world and the other is a fat farce.

The idea that Santa even has anything to contribute to Christmas is thoroughly disappointing. To even think that this is a relevant issue makes me concerned. Jesus gave up his godship privileges to live a mundane human life; he was betrayed and murdered so that I might live forever despite my shame and sinfulness. Yet the response to Santa Claus is that he "personifies much more than he seems to at first... more importantly, he embodies all of the things we want to feel at Christmas... the idea that there’s Christmas magic in the air, the idea of a hush falling over a sleepy household while sugarplums dance, the idea that there’s a deeper story at work." But the truly deeper story is the Prince of Peace came and now lives in his followers in the form of his spirit. To even consider that Santa has anything to offer is appalling as he clearly pales in comparison to what Jesus offers.

The author said it correctly when writing, "Santa and all he represents suggests we’re all searching for something." Why then would we perpetuate the idea that this false symbol could fulfill the longing within us? As Christians we aught to boldly take a stand to affirm the deity of our Lord Jesus and point others to him rather than acknowledging the world's erroneous solution. We cannot settle for a hint of Christmas in Santa Claus when the truth is our "search [for all that we are looking for] culminates in the person of Christ." No more hints are necessary. Truth has been revealed in the person of Jesus Christ.

At Home

After taking a couple days and nights away from this amazing bustling city in a tranquil town with natural hot springs that lies across the Marmara Sea in Asia we had come back to our city. The ferry ride was quite windy and the boat, while packed with people and cars, swayed from side to side for the hour and half in the water. Once back in Istanbul we herded off the ferry like cattle only to board a crowded bus. Arriving at the metro station, we then took a familiar ride on the rail to the stop near our place. We are blessed to live so close to the station, but I still bundle up as the temperature continues to drop with autumn fully settled in. My scarf was tucked inside my peacoat and my hat pulled down over my ears. With a bag in each hand I stepped off the metro and started down the stairs. I hadn’t taken three steps when a rush of peace and joy overcame me; it was the serenity of being home.

Ever since moving into this flat two months ago I have been sleeping here each night. Despite the three days off of work last week I stayed at home and enjoyed the days with new friends and by taking care of issues at home. When we first moved in it was the lock on the front door, then it was electrical problems, the phone line, and most recently a leak in the kitchen. On Wednesday morning we woke to a constant dripping coming from our water heater. Wednesday was a holiday, so on Thursday I called the plumber. After waiting all evening for his arrival I gave up (enter: MacGyver). By duck taping a couple plastic bags together I was able to construct a trough for the drips to run across the kitchen into the sink. Immediately following work on Friday our team departed for the retreat together.

The retreat was beneficial; everything a weekend with the team should be. We relaxed in the natural and historic hot spring, ate traditional local cuisine together, encouraged one another, and worshipped the Lord in song and study. Philippians 3:20 reminded me that of all the places around the world where I have lived, from Spain, to China, to the USA, and now Turkey, none of them are truly my home. While I am immensely affectionate of this city, I still long for more years in Spain, and even still hold tightly to the hope that I will return to my church family in America. God has blessed me with opportunities to call many places home. I adapt, and after getting over some minor cultural differences I find I’ve fallen in love with yet another city where I imagine I could seemingly live forever. But the truth is I will never be completely satisfied in a place on earth because I belong to the Kingdom of Heaven, where Jesus Christ lives.

Happy Holidays

Maybe it’s my own fault for not listening, or perhaps I was sending a text message or checking my notifications, but I completely missed the cultural training session on the Muslim holiday known in Turkey as Kurban Bayram. Thankfully, in my time here I had become relatively aware that many locals would be slaughtering lambs in the street. Yesterday, on my afternoon run I smiled and waved casually as I jogged passed the guys skinning the sheep. In fact, I think they were the ones giving me strange glances since I was exercising in public. Later that night, the woman across the street had gathered some stones in order to build a fire pit on the sidewalk. She didn’t want me to take a picture of the ram’s head she had roasting over the open flame. But I only asked after I had snapped one on my iPhone.

Then my roommate, Alex, and I followed a stream of blood that we saw running down the street gutter. We could tell that it was fresh as the steady current picked up leaves and gurgled along over small stones. We proceeded walking up the street towards the market, jumping over large puddles of congealing blood near the intersection. Once at the top of the hill we finally found the source. Scully and Mulder should have been on the scene at once—the blood seemed to be pumping out of the ground between the cracks of the bricks in the street. While I won’t meddle with the idea that the stones in the street were actually producing the blood, the puddle, dark like a fine Cabernet Sauvignon, continued to trickle thick blood.

We got up to the market about an hour after sunset just as the fifth and final daily call to prayer rang through city. The little market lies directly under the megaphone that hangs from the minaret of the mosque. The call weighed heavier on me than it normally does. It wasn’t due to my proximity to the mosque itself but I was solemnly reminded of what this holiday is about. The Islam faith says that in devotion to God, Abraham was going to sacrifice his son, but God sent a lamb to take his place. Sounds familiar. In response, Muslims kill an animal once a year as a sacrifice. They then give a portion to the poor while keeping the rest to feed family and friends. It’s like Halloween and Christmas, “The Nightmare Before Christmas” if you will. Animal remains are in the street while the kids come knocking on the door asking for candy (or money) mixed with the whole family dressing up to come over for dinner.

Bringing a box of assorted chocolates we stopped by the neighbor’s house this afternoon to wish them “İyi Bayramlar” –or Happy Holidays. God had told Alex to do this and then Alex invited me to join him in the well wishing. We took the elevator down to our new friend’s house where we were invited to join the family party. The house was warm, decorated with white doilies and lace tablecloths, more importantly, filled with relatives. Each year the family members all gather there, all 250 of them. We were certainly surprised to be invited to join the reunion party and sat down to enjoy a local rarity, beef. Of course to cap off our meal we had some baklava and tea before going down the hall to the sitting room to chat with our buddy Mustafa and some of his family. I’m amazed that two months into living here we have already been able to build relationships that I hope last forever.

This morning we had traditional breakfast with my buddy who is on holiday from university in Ankara due to the festivities this week. It was great to see him again and we got to talk a lot about how this Muslim holiday compares with some of the holidays we celebrate. We mentioned that Thanksgiving and Christmas are both celebrated by feasting with family, similar to this one. But the best conversation has come up when talking about the meaning of the sacrificial lamb. The major difference in Abraham’s story is the meaning behind God providing a lamb for Abraham to kill in place of his son. God offered a lamb to take the place of the human life. Jesus continues to be the sacrifice that makes us right before God. He is the enduring sacrifice so that none will die but that everyone can have life through him. This is our message that we share with hope as God continues to impress on the hearts and minds of the people in this nation.

Life is Liberty

Each Sunday I go to an afternoon youth gathering at a protestant church here in Istanbul. It’s a national church, which means it’s all in Turkish. Usually that is pretty challenging as I’m trying to listen and participate, but it’s really great for learning by immersion. Today, while at our meeting, I got a message on Facebook when a friend asked how I was and told me she was praying for this nation. I quickly replied saying that I was good and at church. But a bit later another friend tweeted me and linked me info about a 7.2 quake in Eastern Turkey. Well, I didn’t feel a thing in Istanbul. Then again, at 13.41 local time I was on a particularly bumpy bus ride and remember thinking that something sounded funny… it was unrelated I’m sure. My friends in Ankara didn’t feel it either. Google says that my place is 1,840km from Van, the city of the quake

According to what I read on CNN the damage is quite bad. Dozens of buildings left to rubble, this includes hospitals, dormitories, and other high occupancy structures. While the earthquake wasn’t noticed physically in the nation’s largest city, it’s another blast to a country that just lost 24 soldiers to a terrorist attack this past Wednesday. The people here are resilient and patriotic. Each day the exuberant red flags with a crescent moon and a single star are blowing in the chilly autumn wind. At their core they love their homeland. This week many flags lined the streets and covered fronts of entire buildings. Tonight there is need for more than help from within and everyone here is grateful for the services extended from abroad. Even Israel, who recently has had some riffs with Turkey, has extended an olive branch in offering help and relief subsequent to the natural disaster. The nation while devastated, remains strong. It’s hard to ignore the patriotism and pride; and other nations look to Turkey for council and guidance.

Just hours ago the leaders of Libya declared their country officially liberated and today Tunisia held its first election. In this time, now known as the Arab Spring, many Islamic countries seek advice from Turkey. As a nation that is predominately Muslim, Turkey maintains a belief in freedom of religion. Many look to this nation as a model hoping to emulate its political stance and gain further freedoms for their own people. This is certainly a new beginning for this part of the world. There is major economic crisis in the West, political unrest in the Middle East, and Mother Nature is giving her worst right here where the two meet. The world is groaning and awaiting the return of our Lord Jesus. Everyone is seeking freedom from bondage. Jesus lives to give life, to offer freedom, love, and redemption. Through him we have hope to overcome the troubles of this world. May you be blessed in knowing Jesus Christ.

Thank you for your prayers for the continued protection and liberation of souls

Promises

I'm sitting in church and was just texting a friend back home and thinking about how much I'd love to be in Costa Mesa on this chilly rainy day. The house is cold and I have to go plan lessons for kids who are simply out of control. Right now it not easy. I'm thinking of how easy my life was back home but the one thing that I have been really avoiding is my school loans. And I'm still avoiding them. But eventually I'm going to have to go home and pay them off. Or just pay them off. But it's easier not to deal with them while abroad. I was reminded of my former belief that God wanted me to take out the loans in order to go to school. What a selfish and wrong idea I think now. I wish I wouldn't have done it, but at the time it seemed like the only option and I thought God was saying, "Trust me." But now I've been so irresponsible with it that I'm embarassed.

So in church they read from Luke 1 and then later from Mark 16 I think. I know they talked about Zachariah and Abraham. What did these two have in common? God made both of them a promise but they didn't believe Him. I have to press into the Lord in faith by doing the right thing, by being responsible to that which he has called me to.

I don't think that this means God necessarily wanted me to go in debt at APU. But I do know that God is faithful and will take care of my needs, that His ways are better than mine, His thoughts are better than mine. He is holy and I am a man full of sin. In my own way I have pride, anger, lust, bitterness, and so much ugliness. God thank you for rescuing me. Change me! Give me pure motives and a clean heart. Help me to do whatever it takes to know you more. I don't want to miss any promise, or word, or anything that you have for me!!

Dear School

Dear School-where-I-work,

It’s with regret and sadness that I write you this letter. As an English teacher, my first priority in the classroom is to captivate the students, to get them speaking, and to create an environment that fosters and facilitates learning. Unfortunately, I cannot succeed. The way the current administration has this school set up, guarantees my failure as an educator as well as the failure, or at least lack of improvement of the students. If the students are going to make any progress, some major changes have to happen.

The students need consistency. After the first three weeks of school the freshmen are well aware of my expectations and how they are to behave in the classroom. I also know them, their names, their abilities, and who needs special attention. We are at a defining moment in this semester. The students are ready to actively participate, they do their homework, and they enjoy the speaking exercises in class. Thus, the decision to reassign them to different classes based on an electronic grammar test is in effect, a direct bullet to the head.

Not only does this rearrangement discredit the work the teachers have done in the previous three weeks, it nullifies the students’ progress as well. Students’ homework assignments, grades, and classroom participation are all wiped clean. Mixing the four different classes now makes it impossible to ensure all the students are actually on the same page. By changing their learning environment we have caused more harm than good. The last three weeks must be completely dismissed. We have essentially hit the “reset” button for this term.

While it may seem beneficial to place the students in classes based on ability the test used to determine their level was quite insufficient. Using a forty-question quiz on the computer that asked students to click the right answer in no way shows their ability to speak English. When my superiors and fellow teachers agreed that the test was not adequate, it only added fuel to my fire of confusion and frustration. Apparently, the only people who think this is a good idea aren’t even in the classroom working engaging the students.

It is the teachers who have spent hours preparing activities and lessons that engage the students to get them involved. While others may sit in an office calling the shots, we are the ones spending time after class, eating lunch with our students, and investing personal time for their benefit. When you leave your office to go home at the end of the day you don’t know anything more about the students than you did last week. We know our pupils, we know their dreams for the future and we know what they fear today. That’s the difference between us. The difference isn’t that we teach, the difference is that we care—and so we teach. The senseless structural shifting and text heavy curriculum doesn’t benefit the students so that they learn, but so that they can pass the test to make your school appear prestigious.

If irrelevant testing and subsequent rearrangement of students continues you will raise up this generation impotent and fruitless. Each young person needs consistent opportunities to be in a natural setting where they can speak freely, discuss their ideas and concerns about our world today. This requires allowing them time to acquire new language skills before testing and shuffling them around from class to class. It demands we see the individual before we scrutinize them for minor errors as they seek to improve.

Raid for Contraband

While living in a developing country certainly has its advantages, there are also some major challenges. One thing I really like is that I can cross the street whenever I want, of course I run the risk of getting hit, but I'm at least allowed. But what doesn't kill me on the street just keeps me on my toes in the classroom. Teaching in a developing country also comes with a few surprises. The lack of organization and communication from administration with myself and the other native teachers has been an issue from day one, but it's something that I am, for the most part, used to by now. Typically, I find something out last minute, on a need-to-know basis. Last week, 15 minutes before the lesson was to begin I was told they were going to have me teach a different class. The week before, I walked into class only to find the geography teacher there and was told I no longer had that period. These things happen. Okay. Today reached a new height.

One of my most difficult classes consists of 20 sophomore boys. It takes some time to get them calmed down and ready for English class. Once everyone finally gets their books, sits down, and is relatively quiet, we finally bring things to order a solid 15 minutes after they should have been ready. Today was no different. Not until the middle of my lesson anyway, when there was a light knock at the door. Usually the knock at the door is another student late for class or some kid trying to cause trouble in the hall. But when I opened the door today I was greeted by three men in suits. The oldest man walked in the class room and told all of the students to put their hands in the air and proceed to the front of the room. I would have done the same had they shown a weapon but since it was a Deputy Principal I suspected it was one of the students that was in question. As I tried to figure out what was going on the other two men entered the room and began to search under the desks, in the cupboards, and in the students' bags. Even the students themselves were patted down making TSA appear friendly.

I was concerned they were looking for a knife or gun and did not want to see my students get in trouble for something so serious. What would they do if they found the contraband they were after? My mind started racing. Maybe that troublesome student threatened somebody else while on break from class. If the bloodhounds find something, what will this mean for my student? I was really worried. Then, right from the front row, out of Muhammed's backpack they pulled out a purple folder laying it open on the desk to reveal something tucked in a plastic sleeve. A Blackberry. Wait just a minute! They principal's detective squad is after a cell phone?! Muhammed is a good student; he's showing a desire to participate and improving his participation level. Embarrassed and ashamed he stood over his desk, eyes staring at the ground. He can't be in trouble like this! Did he do something illegal with this phone? The three raiders continued to dig through bags, pull books out of desks, and patt down--nay reach in and grab at--pockets. Then an iPhone 4 was placed next to Muhammed's phone, then a Nokia, followed by an older version iPhone.

After the invasion, six phones sat on the desk at the front of the room. The Deputy Principal gathered them up before leaving the room. The students threw themselves into a Turkish riot. I stood at the front of the room waiting for them to quiet down again, calmly running the timer on my own iPhone. I don't fight with their noise. A couple of minutes later I was able to get class going again but not without some confusion of my own. All that for cell phones! It would be helpful if the authorities could tell me next time so that I can anticipate their invasion. From what it seemed, somebody was in grave danger or major trouble but apparently having a modern cell phone is a crime validating the interruption of my lesson as if the Gestapo were running the school. Yes, I'm living in a developing country indeed.

Nothing is Random

Knowing that God does all kinds of unexplainable things I shouldn’t be surprised at the experience I had today at the police station. While I certainly can’t explain how it all came about, I know it was not some random chance. I suppose I ought to begin with a little backstory. Just a few weeks ago we moved to Istanbul. I went to the shopping forum a few metro stops away from the school in order to go explore the area where we live. While I was heading back to the metro after walking around the center I saw a couple of guys speaking sign language. I know that American Sign Language is not the same language that the deaf community here speaks but I decided to go up to them and try to communicate something. In the end I just wrote down on a piece of paper, “Amerikalıyım” to indicate that I was from the states. Then I hopped on the metro and went home.

Only a few days later I got on the metro again from the stop near my house. As I stepped on the metro car, the two guys directly in front of me were the very same ones from the forum. I couldn’t believe it. Quickly, I ripped off my sunglasses and the guys greeted me with the patriotic head tap (it’s like the kissing of cheeks, except here men just touch the sides of their foreheads together). I was shocked to see them again and was a bit frustrated that I couldn’t communicate with them well. Even the letters of the alphabet have different signs. I was able to get one of their names but that was it. Shortly after that I arrived at my stop and had to disembark.

It was extremely surprising to randomly come across a couple guys I had already met; I had only been living here for ten days. So I did what anybody would do; I Tweeted about it. And then I emailed everyone telling them what happened asked some people to pray it; if God wanted me to connect with them again we would cross paths. Today my roommates and I went to the police station to get our residents permits. As we left we walked down the street and waited for our guy to bring up the car. That’s when I looked across the street and I saw the two deaf guys from the forum. I quickly ran over to them and exchanged numbers before our car pulled up.

I shouldn’t be so surprised, but I am. I love it! I love that God drew me to them, and is giving these divine appointments! Now that I have their numbers I have already exchanged text messages with them and soon we’ll meet up for tea to get better acquainted. This is just one small piece of what’s going on. All that God is doing isn’t revealed to me, and it’s not my time to know so that’s okay. However, the people I meet want to hang out. A second guy has asked to come to church with me. Since when do people ask that?! I’m excited to see where these relationships all lead. Maybe I will never see the outcome of building these bridges and planting these seeds. But I know that as opportunities arise I want to jump on them. I don’t want to let another chance meeting with someone to slip away. Thankfully, God’s work is not dependent on me. I can mess up and God still works things out for his honor. That is my hope now. I want to step into what God has, not try to make something happen on my own. More divine appointments will occur!