Seth’s World View

Time is counting down. Less than 3 weeks before I leave Cambodia. Crazy. It’s Khmer New Year here, which means another weekend where 95% of the town is shut down and vacated. That’s not an exaggeration. I’m currently sitting at Brown’s Cafe, a Western-style cafe chain based here that is open every day, and almost always full.

There are a few people I will really miss here, though not as many as it could have been. I didn’t invest myself as much as I could have, choosing instead to spend time on classes, and a few key friends. It’s been a lot of preparation to secure the next step, grad school, and I’m at a point where I’m all prepped out. There’s more to do, like deepen my understanding of the Spanish language, but the next 3 months, I’ll be traveling. Aside from a little work on the side, I’ll be on vacation, and I need it, because grad school will be anything but.

I was planning to blog more while here, but instead, I Facebooked, since that is the forum of the age. I wish Facebook existed on my NZ trip in 2003. I recently read a FB comment where someone said that technology divides us. No, that’s not correct. It both divides us AND connects us. It enables meetups of niche groups while also making is easy to have the illusion of connection without leaving our house. I can state categorically that the way Facebook and Google Voice have enabled me to stay in touch with people back home, and connect with family, is nothing short of amazing. That same technology has made it easy to stay inside my house at times, surfing the net or watching shows online, thus not connecting with people. Technology, it’s not neutral, but it’s also not one thing, but it is many things, and really isn’t a helpful term. Technology is the basis for most things that you see. The wooden table I’m sitting at is a technology, along with the cup, and let me tell you, espresso has lots of technology that go into it. I had no plan to talk about this, but this is my favorite way of writing.

Cambodia, it’s had a lot of serendipity. I didn’t have many expectations, but it exceeded them. The expectations I had for myself, however, we not exceeded. I learned a lot about myself, things I didn’t expect to learn, and in the process, shut a lot of doors. When the world is open to me, it’s a happy moment to shut a door. Note the way I said it. A door wasn’t shut, but that I shut it. I don’t mean to say I’m the master of my fate, but I’m also not a passive, fatalist human being who is simply flowing down a river, letting the current take me where it will. I’m not helpless, nor am I simply dependent on the whims of others, hoping that they will accept me. I wouldn’t be pursuing a degree in human rights if I didn’t believe I could influence the course of a river, but I’m also aware, that’s not an easy task. Based on what I’ve read of current events and history, I believe the world is getting better, and the world is also getting worse. I want to remember the positive while recognizing the negative, and doing what I can. Have I done much in Cambodia? A little. It wasn’t my goal to do a lot. This was a learning journey, to learn about another country and about my own heart. Without seeking to meet many, I met some amazing people. I’m thankful for that. Should I ever return, I’ll have a different purpose. Here’s to you, Cambodia.

What I like about this space, is it’s space where I can just write. This isn’t a business blog, nor does it have any grand purpose. It’s just a space for me to think out loud, and it’s rather nice that sometimes it makes a connection with someone else.

I find writing hard, in a way, because there are some topics that it really takes research to write well, like say on religion and politics. I actually enjoy both topics, but not when it’s divisive, partisan, and polarized. It often is, especially politics. I have a really high bar for research. I’ve grown to like reading source materials and the related context. The problem is, there’s a lot of reading to be done to be informed on any subject, and that doesn’t even consider retention. I can get timid at times in what I write, as I don’t particularly like people irrationally attacking me. I posted a comment on one blog a few days ago and expected to get flamed. I didn’t, and that was encouraging to me.

This space is one where I’ll steer clear of hot topics, because I don’t want that kind of search traffic. This is my safe place, at least, as safe as one can expect on a blog published worldwide. I’m going to share more ‘scenes’ from my life in the coming months, and hope to get in a better discipline of writing. I’ll also be blogging at my Christian imagination blog, though not as often. I’ve gotten a few books about imagination, which is giving me some good kindling for my mind. Also, I am reconnecting my RSS reader to a select number of blogs. It’s been awhile. I had over 300 feeds at one point. Now, I just have the positive and intellectually stimulating ones.

I’m going to begin a series where I share some vignettes from my life. It will have to be from memory, as most of my belongings are in my mom’s house. I’m not sure where to begin, so I’ll just have to start.

I grew up on Bateman Avenue in the very small town of Cranesville, Pennsylvania. My brothers had moved several times before my parents landed there in 1971, but I, I was there my entire youth. We had a nice little park a half block away. That had swings, a slide, a merry-go-round, and an unsurfaced basketball half court.

There was a creek that ran next to our house, across the street, along the park, and beyond. I followed it a number of times, making up names for places and things on the river. I had a goal to not avoid stepping in the water, though I slipped and fell more than once. The creek next to our house we called a crick, as some people call creeks. I didn’t call any other stream a crick. As far as I’m concerned, there is only one, and it flows next to our house.

The crick is relatively tame. Erosion has taken some soil away, but it’s still much as it has always been. Well, that’s not true. It once was rather polluted, but it’s been cleaner for a long time. Once time we had a lot of rain. That’s also not true. We had a lot of rain all the time. Between rain and snow, half the year we were covered in drops of water, be they frozen or liquid. One year though, we had some much rain for so long, there was a lot of flooding. We looked into our neighbors year and it was a lake at least 4 feet deep. I remember the photos, though I don’t remember where the photos are. We were on higher ground, because that’s where our house is.

Our building has been called the Ark, as in Noah. At least, that’s what I think it’s been called by some. Being that there was a flood, we probably were like Noah’s Ark. My dad hosted many a meeting in our back room. I don’t know if “back room” is a term that actually exists or not. I just know that the room was always called that, and therefore, it’s the back room. Our house was bought cheap and then fixed up. That was the plan, though my dad’s skills in this area weren’t very good. My dad was a preacher, you see, and that is what he did well. That, and cooking, and arguably, scrapbooking. Taking care of a house was a means to an end, that end, being hosting people. My parents were spectacular at that. We always had people in and out. It was one of my favorite parts of childhood and youth.

People came from far and wide to taste my dad’s spaghetti and meatballs. He wasn’t Italian, but he was taught to cook by Italians, and his old sister’s husband was Italian, so therefore, he was really good at it. Plus, he liked to eat. This is important. And it was central to his ministry. Sure, we had meetings in our backroom with 50+ people and in our living room with a few less, but we all knew that the central place of ministry was in the kitchen at the dinner table. There was often food, but it was also the place were the few gathered for real conversation and training.

We had ministers stop in from all over the country, and sometimes the world. They were of all sorts. Thus, I’ve seen all sorts. And we weren’t so much elders to me, but peers. I’m thankful to have known many of them. I forgot how wonderful so much of that was.

It wasn’t always wonderful though. We let all sorts of people stay. Some were honorable and really wanted to grow. Some were fake, lying, conniving people. We had some people that stole from us while we gave them free hospitality. There are some that would later turn on us and reject us after we helped them. Still, my dad had a saying, “I don’t write people off.” For the most part, he didn’t.

My dad was really insightful and knew how to push people’s buttons. He wasn’t afraid to challenge people and tell them what they might not want to hear. He was able to give of himself to a lot of people because of this. Sometimes though, my dad didn’t know when to shut up and and when to hold back. He could be unwise that way. He also was terrible at accepting criticism. I learned how not to accept criticism from him, and had to learn how years later.

Despite my dad’s faults, and they were many, he did things in ministry that he just shouldn’t have been able to do. He’d certainly give God the glory, but still, it amazes me. He could organize a meeting, literally, in a day. He’d find a church venue (sometimes our house), call a bunch of people, and when the speaker came in, people were there. In reading his autobiography, I sometimes shake my head with a smile on my face. He just did things. He was a bit of a rebel. He was always outside organized church but had contacts in all sorts of churches, well, I should say, groups of Christian people. He said he wasn’t a company man. Once when he was the interim pastor of an Assemblies of God church, they sent him ordination credentials. He sent them back.

He preferred to work outside the system. This included setting up his own church organization, New Covenant Christian Church, under the Word Emphasis Crusade. Then, much to the chagrin of people, he started ordaining people so they could freely ministry to others. Sometimes he was really unwise. Other times though, he ordained someone who then proceeded to do things they shouldn’t be able to do, simply because they now had permission. It got really interesting when he decided to send an ordination certificate to a famous ministry who had had his credentials revoked. Well that, that is another story.

Though I did meet a French girl at TEDx Phnom Penh who I connected with for a few minutes, then never saw again. That will make sense to about 5 of you, maybe. I mused about this a few years back. This summer, I will no longer wonder, because I will be in Vienna, but I will travel by plane and bus, not train, so it won’t be quite the same. The sole reason I want to go to Vienna is because of the movie I’m alluding to. I heard someone said it’s very beautiful there, so I’m glad to get another vote for a place I already want to go. I’ll have to visit Teuchtler Schallplattenhandlung. Maybe I’ll even find an old Kath Bloom record (already have the song though). When I get to Paris, I’ll have to visit Shakespeare and Company, along with Le Pure Cafe. Maybe even the Louvre. The Louvre actually gets precedence, but if I can visit the others, I certainly will.

This does mean that I finally get to see Europe. More details will follow once I have more details to confirm. Despite the movie references, I’m not looking for romance there, but I am looking to be a tourist. It should be a blast.

There are many moments that make up life. This is one of them. As I’m typing, I’m reminded that I took a typing test today. I scored about 68 words per minute. I never type that fast though. Not because I can’t. But because I don’t think that fast when I’m writing an essay, and simply transcribing is boring and unengaging. And that doesn’t include numbers. I’m not as fast when typing numbers. I’ve been thinking about numbers more lately. That might have something to do with learning to count in Khmer. It has more to do with taking microeconomics, which as my friend David says, it’s a new paradigm that requires substantial thought.

I’ve written a lot in my time on earth, but a lot less the last several years. I’m not always sure why to write. I seem to write best when I don’t know why I’m writing and am just discovering. That includes now. Perhaps you won’t think this is good writing. It’s true that the first draft usually isn’t the best, but it is the most satisfying for me. When my writing is unconstrained, it is enjoyable to type words. I think not having expectations is a huge part of it.

Expectations trip me up. They often have. My own. Other peoples’ are really my own. They suck the life out of me. That perhaps is an oxymoron. I’ve thought a lot about tomorrow. Researched tomorrow. Analyzed yesterday, and that in view of tomorrow, what might be, what might not be. I think that today is good. Today, I’m doing better at not doing things. I can’t enjoy everything. Actually, maybe it’s possible to choose to enjoy most things, but it’s not about all things being easy and relaxing and fun. I have a self-centered nature that doesn’t always want to do what’s hard. Some things I won’t do unless structure applies some pressure. The challenge, for me, is not committing to some things I can do but am better off not doing. Not everything will be energizing, but it’s not wise to add too many tasks that are draining, if I have a choice.

I can say that today I’m rather content. And that’s good. I sense a sense of God’s presence and a peace. I have plans for tomorrow. Some are exciting. I’m optimistic. But I’ve decided I’m okay with a lack of certainty about the destination. I’m less certain about specifics because I’ve seen how big the world is and how small I can be. More than one time I’ve had very specific plans that I failed to accomplish. There are times I knew, but knowing didn’t get me there. Faith isn’t necessarily about knowing what’s on the other side. It’s trusting that I will trust as I walk in that direction, and that God is God wherever I may step. It’s looking around and actually seeing what I might not see if I wasn’t looking. It’s listening. It’s not going too fast. It’s being ready to make hard choices and face awkward situations. God, not surprisingly, is more concerned about the manner of man that I am than He is about vocation A or vocation B. And when I say manner, I’m not talking merely virtue or character. We don’t need God to have those things. But do I have faith that there is a God who is the God of tomorrow and today, that He is faithful, that I am righteous through his death and life? Not always. Through some periods of my life, much less. I only have today, and it’s there that I live.

So, my first post in 2012 is about…V. Which V? V as in Visitors.

I finally watched the new V series. I liked it more than the original. Having actors who had starred in Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, and Stargate was certainly a highlight, but it also was more plausible with a great political slant to it.

For those of you who never saw the original mini-series in the 80s, the thing to understand, is that it wasn’t a mini-series. It was an event. Imagine a time when cable TV was in it’s early days and network TV still dominated. Imagine a time in America before Nintendo when computers were still in their early days. Imagine a time when the Internet didn’t exist for public use. It was this time in America, in 1983, when V was released.

The marketing campaign, as I recall, was not too revealing. It generated interest without telling. When we watched the Visitors arrive in 1983, Americans who huddled around their television sets (me included) didn’t know what was going to happen. When the Visitors said they come in peace, I didn’t have any reason to doubt them (but I was rather young and naive at the time). When Donovan first saw what a Visitor really looks like, he was terrified…and so were we. Americans, collectively, felt the same emotion at the same time. If they didn’t see it, they might not see it at all. Not everyone had a VCR in those days.

The following year, The Final Battle continues to the franchise. I still remember, vividly, being at someone else’s house and watching the birth of the hybrid children. When the reptilian baby poked his head out, it was a shocking moment, one which required us to wait till the next day to see what’s next.

I’m rather glad the American media landscape is more diverse now. I’m glad there are more viewing options and that we do more than just view. In trying to evaluate movies though, one has to understand the cultural context of the time. Though I like the new V more, it can’t compare to the emotional impact of the original when it was released. I may forget the new V after a time. I’ll never forget the original 2 mini-series and the series that followed it.