The Journey

Leaving Uganda

2006-12-09T02:25:00.000-06:00

Today is the last day on the campus of Uganda Christian University. Next week our group will be debriefing 2 hours from here at a Catholic Convent. I am definitely in a place that I would classify as a bittersweet moment in my life. There is no doubt that I am excited to return and see my loved ones. I miss my family, my friends and especially my beautiful girlfriend, not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you all. But at the same time I feel this overpowering awkward feeling where I am trying to comprehend the fact that I am really leaving this place. For the past year and a half I have been preparing to come to Uganda. For the longest time I couldn’t comprehend or even believe that I would actually be here. And now I cannot comprehend or even believe that I have just spent 3 ½ months here and am now leaving. It’s going to be hard, as I have definitely fallen in love with this place. The country as a whole is beautiful, the classroom has expanded my thought process so much, and the people of this University have gained a spot in my heart. I really cannot comprehend that I am leaving. I don’t think I have ever been in a spot where I am leaving something I don’t know if I’ll ever see again. The friends I have met, the beauty I’ve seen, the culture and lifestyle I so love; there is no telling if I’ll ever see again. This could be it. Which is just weird.

Regardless of the weirdness of leaving the Pearl of Africa, I thank her. I thank her for the beauty she has shown me. I thank her for all the people she has introduced me to. Uganda…I thank her for pulling me out of my comfort zone and teaching me a new way of life. I thank her for exposing all of herself to me. Not everything here was pleasant to see or pleasant to learn about, but all of it has come together to shape who I stand as today. I thank you, Uganda. I thank her for exposure to a new way of thinking. She has touched my heart in a way that I can only pray will touch other hearts throughout my ministry. I thank her. For I came here to see something, I am not sure if I knew what, but she has shown it to me. I am still not sure what I have all been shown, but somewhere in the midst of it, Uganda has graciously shown me my God. The same God I’ve always known and always worshiped, but a bigger God, a new side of God, a God that only those who have sunk themselves into a new culture can understand what I am talking about. So thank you Uganda, thank you for revealing this God to me.

And before I depart for the semester I must say a big thank you to those of you reading in America. Thanks for your support. Your prayers have helped me through this. And if I come back and I’m like the average nut case that spends a long time abroad…sorry. I guess be patient with me and if it bothers you enough go ahead and smack me around. I might get mad, I might flip out, I might not like most people, but I’ll try my best not to be too crazy. And seriously, thank you all so much who have supported me, it has been amazing. I look forward to sharing this all with you. I’ll see you all soon.

…Goodbye Uganda

Soroity

2006-11-01T09:05:00.000-06:00

This past week I was out east in the Soroity region. The first 4 days of the trip I spent living with a family. This home stay differed from my Mukono home stay just with the location being Northeast of where I’m staying. In many parts of Africa, inner-state conflict is a huge problem. Often one has more loyalty to their tribe than to their country. Therefore, when a president is in power you will often see a biased towards certain areas of the country while showing discrimination to others. Discrimination and tribalism was evident when entering into Soroity. The area was significantly less developed than both the Western (where president Museveni is from) and the Southern (where the capital is) part of the country. While parts of the country are becoming more and more developed with technology and opportunities, others have been forgotten while a 20-year long war continues.
Living in Soroity for a few days gave us the opportunity to see the traditional way of living in Uganda. I was with another USP student, Nicole, and the family we stayed with was a combination of a father with daughters, sons, nephews, nieces and some who’s identity I never figured out. Their compound consisted of 7 huts- 1 was for muzei (the old man), 1 for the females, 1 for the males, 1 for the children, 1 for the visitors, 1 for sitting and eating and the last was for cooking. We were told that for a boy to become a man that he must build a hut, which explains the multitude of huts. We also had a sweet outhouse and our bathing area was fenced in by a banana leaves. Most of the food eaten, they raised or grew on the compound. So surrounding the huts they grew many types of vegetables and fruits while also having their own cattle, goats, chickens and turkeys. On top of that they had two pet dogs, one named Osama, they would call him a terrorist and then told me I should take a picture so that I could say I found Bin Laden. Anyways, they also let us help out around the compound with cleaning, cooking, farming, milking cows and I butchering chickens. They were shocked to hear that in the States we just go to a super market and buy our groceries without having any idea where it comes from. Here it was a different story. When we ate potatoes they were the ones we uprooted just a couple hours ago; when we ate oranges we simple picked them off the tree and ate them; when we had milk-tea it was from the cow that I just violated while trying to learn how to milk her; and when we ate chicken we were eating little Johnny that was just earlier starring me in the eye while I sawed his neck off with the dullest blade known to mankind (by the way butchering chickens by hand is not a pretty picture).
The family’s hospitality was incredible. They really took care of us and accepted us a family members. The Monday night we were there they received devastating news that their grandfather/father had passed away. I was amazed at how they handled it. In America when something tragic happens it’s easy to mope around and order in Chinese for the next week so you don’t have to cook. But for them, they mourned briefly, went to the funeral where they again mourned briefly and then went on with life. They said that since everyone in their family was born again they knew that it is God who gives life and God who takes life it away, so they trust in him. And with that they have no other choice but to prepare food and keep up with things on the compound. Nicole and I both were worried about being in the way with the tragedy that came up, but they insisted that we were like family to them and wanted us to escort them to the funeral service. It was an honor to be there with them and to experience a Ugandan celebration of a life greatly lived.

-IDP-
Last Thursday, after our home stay we visited an IDP (Internally Displaced People) camp. These are set up for villagers to live in since their homes aren’t safe because of the LRA and the Karamajong tribe. The LRA, led by Joseph Kony have been causing destruction in the North for the past 20 years. There are charges against Kony and his people for child abduction, murder, rape, and human mutilation. The Karamajong tribe has been in conflict with the Teso (those from Soroity) for a number of years and are guilty of abduct their children and stealing food. The IDP camps are designed by the government to keep the people safe, however it is possible that it’s caused more harm than help. The camp we visited had 6,500 people crammed into a small area. In this small area it is not possible to grow much food, there is not a way to make income, and there is merely one water pump for everyone, causing a major water shortage. Despite the few soldiers, attacks are still often occurring from the LRA and Karamajong in the camps. On top of that there are claims that the government is guilty for similar crimes as the rebel groups within the camps. According to some testimonies, soldiers within the camps set curfew, if anyone is out past it they are beaten, some to death. Soldiers raping the people in the camp regularly is said to be common in the camps. Olara Otunnu, UN Under-Secretary General, compares the camps to Hitler’s concentration camps.
I guess personally what gets me the most is the children. When I saw them last Thursday pain and anguish filled their eyes. They walked around in their ragged clothes, their only pair of clothes and most that had so many holes that it didn’t even cover their body. Theirs not enough water to bath, let alone wash clothes so they just walk around filthy, caked in dirt, many running a deathly fever since their family cannot afford the 1000 shillings (52 cents) it cost to receive minimal health care. I had a girl sit on my lap for a mere 20 minutes only to leave heaps of dirt of my clothing when she got up. Those sad commercials that we see on television, the ad’s we look at in magazines, the documentaries we watch like Invisible Children…they aren’t myths. I wish like hell they were, but they aren’t. It exists, and it sucks, no one should live like this, but they do, and it really sucks. What can we do? I don’t know. Please pray for them though, if you have a solution to end injustice in the world, please let me know. What will prayer do? I honestly don’t know, but we cannot just stop at realization that this sucks. We must keep going deeper…please don’t give up on these people.
Micah 6:8

Random things about Uganda

2006-10-13T16:02:00.000-05:00

I didn’t have time to read over this blog, so I apologize if I seem to be illiterate.

Favorite Ugandan stereotype of the Americans:
Everyone owns a handgun. There are often gunfights in the middle of the city. A doctor from a nearby missions clinic said that if he came to United States the thing he would be most scared of is being killed in a gunfight in the city. The freshman that lives across the hall from me, Mosei, feared that the American students would bring guns with them when he found he’d be living with guys from the US.
Reason: In the movies they watch from America someone is always killing someone else with their personal gun. Also, citizens in Uganda are not allowed to own guns unlike our country.

Hardest thing to do in the world:
Washing clothes by hand. For the past 6 weeks of my 7 weeks in Uganda I don’t think I’ve worn a clean outfit. I’m still working on trying to make a deal with some of the girls to do my laundry for me. I quickly realized that bringing a white pair of khakis (which are now closer to a khaki color) was a bad call.

Most commonly asked question by Ugandans:
Is the wrestling in America really fake?!?! They ask this with true concern as it seems that the truth behind the “World Championship Wrestling” being acted rather than real is a recent rumor funneling around the country. When I admit the truth to them that the wrestling is in fact acted out you can see huge disappointment in their eyes. A disappointment that shows the last American told them the same thing, but they were hoping that I’d bring them better news. Unfortunately I crush their hopes. Then the conversation usually moves into a 30-minute conversation of how real they think it looks.

Cool Ugandan Tradition:
Although they have many, and many of them are incredibly cool my favorite is the birthday celebration. If you are going to wish someone a happy birthday, it is tradition that you have to pour water on him or her in the process. So when someone in the cafeteria has 30 some people dump a glass of water on the victim’s head, they are being wished a Ugandan style Birthday. It then breaks into a Happy Birthday song that is much cooler than our Western chorus.

A new name:
When I walk down the road, especially when I’m outside of the campus I become a celebrity. Most people at least give a glance at the white person, but then all children under the age of eight and drunken guys sitting outside the bar verbalize what everyone is thinking. “A Muzungu!” White person is the easiest translation of muzungu, but from what they tell us it is not considered a derogatory, but rather proper. I actually enjoy when the kids yell it at me. Its cute to see them wave and laugh. If your with them they sometimes will rub your skin to see if it really is white.

A Valuable lesson I’m learning from my Ugandan brothers:
I’m learning how to dress ‘smart.’ The term smart, is used in the context Americans would use ‘sharp.’ If a Uganda says, “ohhh you look smart,” it is the equivalence of saying “you look sharp” in America. Appearance is highly valued here. So people take really good care of their clothes washing them often, ironing them nicely, and most definitely knowing how to represent when they wear them. Common dress here is dress pants and a nice button up shirt. To wear shorts, jeans, flip flops or non-dressy clothes to a lecture or around campus during the week is seen as offensive. So this semester has been a bit of a change from the guy who normally considers dressing up wearing holey jeans, wrinkly shirt and flip-flops. But I’ve actually enjoyed it.

The year around Ugandan Temperature:
Uganda straddles the border, keeping a very similar temperature year around. The hottest it has gotten since I’ve been here is mid-high 80’s while the coolest has been high 60’s. So I really cannot complain too much. Enjoy your soon to come winter in Illinois everyone!

Ugandan’s largest fear:
Rain. I’m only slightly exaggerating by calling this their largest fear. It is also one of the most humorous things to me about the people. It is rainy season right now, so it rains almost everyday for only about 30 minutes, but when it rains here, it rains hardcore. If you’re by the ‘quad’ area on campus everyone sits outside to read, do homework, or just chat, but the second a drop of rain comes everyone immediately scatters to the nearest shelter. People will call off all of their plans if it is raining, heaven forbid one walks in it. On a side note, in the packet that all the students for the USP received before coming to Uganda they informed us to bring a poncho because we will ‘definitely’ need it. What they forgot to tell us is that people in Uganda don’t wear ponchos and we would be laughed at and pointed at even more than usual if we wear one.

Ugandan’s biggest shock:
It shocks many people here that I do not know George Bush, Bill Gate or even stars in entertainment like Snoop Dogg, Jay Z, Shakera (just a couple of their favorites).

Ways of Saying Ryan:
Ryan is extremely uncommon in Africa. Therefore when introducing myself, many people often struggle to grasp it. Reeeon? Riot? Brian? Ran? The people that can grasp understanding the pronunciation of my name are Manchester United fans who love their star player, “Ryan Giggs.” When we make this connection they will often say, “ohh like Giggs, Ryan Giggs, haha.”

Time:
A common saying in Africa is, “Americans have the watches but Africans have the time.” Africans seem to have all the time in the world. It is such a change as I come from such an on time orientated society to come to a place where time doesn’t hold that much consideration. If people are suppose to meet for dinner at 7, don’t be surprised if they show at 8 and if it rains they may not show at all. It has really taught me how much I am a slave to time.

*I apologize for the extreme length of this blog. I may of got carried away. If any of you dedicated readers don’t finish the whole thing I won’t be offended and actually won’t even be able to tell. Also none of these comments are at all meant to slander the African/Ugandan community or their society. All of their misconceptions are understandable if one looks at the implications of Hollywood, MTV, and the things portrayed in the media. I’ve noticed that we’ve had plenty of misconceptions of them as well, but I’ll leave our misconceptions for another post. Good day to all! --The Knapp Daddy--

Tired

2006-10-06T06:45:00.000-05:00

This past Monday I was sitting in a lecture and began to have a crisis. My personal definition of a crisis contains me being so tired of the junk in this world to the point that I become borderline psychotic. No worries, since I’ve come to Uganda I average between 3-4 crises a week. When you take a step back and see the world through a different (wider per se) lens, you begin to see more of what the world really is. And the world has some massive problems. I’ve come to see that many of the world’s problems (like poverty) don’t have to be the way they are, but remain the way they are because powerful countries don’t ‘really’ care about anyone besides themselves. So on Monday as I was having my every other day crisis I decided to handle this one differently. Rather than just having built up anger and wanting to scream at the top of my lungs, this time I decided to write a poem. Random I know, but nonetheless I think it may have been somewhat therapeutic. So here is the result of being sick and tired of things...

“Tired” by R. C. Knapp (how does the R. C. thing look?!?!)

We are tired
How much longer can we live like this?
Does no one notice how messed up this world is that we live in?
Is anyone else going insane about the injustices that happen all around us?

We are tired
We are daily learning about the many needs of this earth
But as tears drip down our checks we realize how little we have to offer in return
Is anyone else feeling like there is so much wrong, but wonder, “What can we do?”

We are tired
East Africa is suffering.
Uganda, Sudan, Rwanda, Kenya, Burundi, Congo, Tanzania…they are all suffering
Is anyone else confused why the U.S. “cares” more about Iraq than these?

We are tired
Since creation the serpent continues to deceive us weather it be snake or state
In governments all over the world evil is present
Is anyone else noticing that nothing ‘good’ comes from these?

We are tired
The United States slogan proclaims “one nation under God”
Does not baptism make believers a part of a kingdom much stronger than a country?
Is anyone else convinced that the US is an ideological lie with imaginary boundaries?

We are tired
We do not understand the difference between ‘terrorism’ and ‘war’
We are confused how the 4,000 killed in 9/11 is worse than the 60,000 killed in Iraq
Is anyone else wondering if ‘war’ is a deceiving way of saying ‘terrorism’?

We are tired
There are churches on every street corner in the US
Each one of them has an American flag larger than the symbolic cross in the sanctuary
Is anyone else willing to be more faithful to the cross than the country?

We are tired
The average church community is full of quiet non-active ‘believers’
The activists are the ones shunned and claimed to be heretical
Is anyone else confident that Christ wants the church to be “crazy activists”?

We are tired

The world confuses us
It makes no sense to us

Yet we have hope

We cannot believe the conditions of this world
Or accept the conditions of this world

Yet we have hope

We have hope because we know a story

We know a story that considers people of all race, nationality, and background to be equal
We know a story that considers people on the other side of the world their brother and sister
We know a story that doesn’t kill because it turns the other check
We know a story that doesn’t bow down to a flag because their allegiance belongs to a king
We know a story that loves, just to love
We know a story that loves peace, and hates injustice

Does anyone else know this story?
Has anyone else seen this story?
Will anyone else rise up and live this story?
Is anyone else tired?

Living in the mean

2006-09-29T09:01:00.000-05:00

For two weeks of my semester I’m living with a local family in Mukono. I began this a week and a half ago. During this home stay we are expected to spend the weekends with them, as well as before and after school during the week. The purpose of this is to help us get a better feel of the family life in Uganda. I was placed with Jaja Joyce. Jaja, is the Lugandan word for Grandma which she is commonly called by the village people. Jaja is a widow with seven children ranging between 21-45. Her youngest son, Isaac is the only child still at home. I’ve been able to have all sorts of conversations with Jaja that have enlightened me and help shown me perspectives that I’ve never seen before. Being in her 60’s and living in Uganda her entire life she has experienced colonialization, de-colonialization, the twenty years of a corrupt government that went through 9 presidents, including the horrid Idi Amin who killed anyone who disagreed with him, and was around for the rise of their current President of 20 years Yoweri Museveni. So conversations have been interesting as it sounded that times were quite rough for her growing up in Uganda, especially the few months she lived in the Bush with her husband and her firstborn child.

The first day at Jaja’s was an interesting time for me. I must admit my initial reaction wasn’t too positive when I was faced with a few discomforts. I found upon my arrival that the toilet was the hole on the cement pad in the back yard; rather than taking showers I had to learn how to bath myself with a small basin of water and bar of soap (still struggling with this one); meals in Uganda don’t have a designated time but are served when they’re ready (often lunch at 4pm and dinner at 11pm) and I also realized that just because your in Uganda doesn’t mean that young teenage boys that think they know everything wont annoy you when asking you questions for 4 hours about things you don’t know (me and Jaja’s 15 year old grandson had fun together). So as I laid in bed that first night with a mosquito buzzing in my ear that must of snuck through one of the many baseball sized holes my the mosquito net (luckily the holes were small enough that all the volleyball sized mosquito’s wouldn’t bite me) I noticed something. Jaja was wealthier than most of her neighbors. She also lived in the wealthiest region of this third world country. I began realizing that for these two weeks I’m not living with a hardcore poverty stricken family, but rather I’m living with an average income family in this world. It began to bother me so much. Yet I don’t even know how to describe what I felt. There was frustration, but I wasn’t even sure how to fuel it or where to fuel it. All I know is that there’s something very wrong with this world, I don’t even know what that means to me. How this changes the way I live I don’t know. But I just struggle so much, to look around and see what we have done to this world. Not the middle class world that most Americans like to hide in, but the real world! The world, which you gaze at, only to hear her cry back in her beauty that there is something incredibly wrong with her.

I won’t go any deeper into my feelings, as I cannot identify what they are. But the home stay with Jaja has been great. Being here in Uganda all together has been a wonderful experience as I feel it is exposing me to a broader worldview as I’m learning more about the mysterious beauty of God. Each day that I come home I have been warmly welcomed with an African hug from Jaja. She strives to teach me Luganda despite I’m a horrible student. She praises the Lord each day I return because God has protected me throughout the day. I’ve been able to learn a lot through this woman’s faith. She praises the Lord for so much. Protection, weather, fellowship, electricity, food, clothes, all the little things that I’m use to over indulging in without recognizing my Lord as the provider. I am thankful for the opportunity to live amongst these wonderful people; it has been an amazing blessing.

Good News!

2006-09-22T06:43:00.000-05:00

The second day of my arrival here in Uganda we went to Kampala and received a presentation from Dr. Skokly. Dr. Skokly is an off color British doctor based out of Kampala who give a presentation to all USP groups. Basically the presentation was on the precautions we should take while living in Uganda so that we will return alive. He said that for the most part, my chances of dying here were no different than my chances of dying in Illinois. He followed by informing us that for the most part the rules to not die here are extremely similar to those in the US, don’t drink and drive! The only difference with being here is that we should not drink and drive and we should keep our knickers* on. So it looks like my chances of surviving this semester are pretty darn high.

Another thing he cautioned us about was the inevitability of irregular bowel movements within the first three weeks of being here. He guaranteed our group of 30 American students that we would all suffer this problem by the end of the third week. I Ryan Knapp am here to claim that I have proved Dr. Skokly’s hypotheses to be incorrect. Wednesday, September 20, 2006 marked my three weeks of being in East Africa. It also marked my three weeks of having regular bowel movements in Uganda and Rwanda. Praise the Lord!! Hallelujah!!

-For those who come to this site looking for a legit update on my life in Uganda I apologize for this post. I should have a decent update by early next week. I’ve just been busy. But fortunately not busy on the squatty potty**!

*British term for pants
**Slang for a Ugandan out-house. These consist of a cement floor with a 12” by 4” hole.

African Worship

2006-09-18T07:40:00.000-05:00

One of my fascinations that I’ve found in East Africa is the worship style. I’ve been to a couple Church services, one in rural Rwanda, one in Uganda and I have also had the opportunity to see the Newsboys perform their first live performance ever in Africa, which was quite the experience. I’ll begin with my first Sunday in Rwanda.

Rwanda
We arrived in Rwanda on a Saturday night. The first thing that occurred was that we were divided into groups of 5. These groups all went to different rural/rustic churches in the surrounding area of Kibungo. That night we were also told that the church expects their visitors to preach a sermon. So my first Sunday in Africa I preached a sermon in a rural congregation of nearly 1,000 Rwandans. Did I mention that they don’t speak English in Rwanda? But this was quite the experience, despite the language barrier, despite the different color of skin, despite our ignorance of what they go through day-to-day we worshiped together, and the people of the church treated us like kings. Many of the congregation walks over an hour every Sunday to come to church. Upon our arrival we were treated with tea (tea also includes a large snack) while the children had began dancing (shake your booty African style) and singing an hour prior to the service. After the 3 ½ hour service ended, many of the children continued to sing and dance for another 30 minutes while they attacked the 5 muzungu’s (white people) who were taking pictures of them. If we add this up, the worship service lasted- in amazing fashion that is- for a total of 5 hours. When the service concluded the pastor treated us to a large feast. Throughout this day I saw the joy of the Lord within in the concrete building that had no running water, no electricity, but 1,000 villagers wanting to praise the Lords name. It touched me to see children with nothing besides the clothes on their back that seemed so dirty that they must have been wearing them for 2 straight weeks, yet they were filled with joy. We left, no one asked us rich Americans for money…only for prayers. I couldn’t understand the words of the Rwandese, but I am confident the kingdom of heaven was present.

Newsboys
The Newsboys have performed at Olivet a couple different times and frankly I didn’t care. I probably even made fun of the few people who went to see them. But when they performed at Uganda Christian University in Mukono, as their first appearance ever in Africa, I would’ve been a mad man to miss this event. I still don’t care for the Newsboys all that much, I find them shallow and think their lyrics are lame (“they don’t serve breakfast in hell”? How do they know? Seriously?), but one of the largest American Christian bands in Uganda is an event not to be missed. My African brothers and sisters went crazy and without a doubt knew how to rock out at a concert. For the majority of the students it was their first time ever being to a real concert. So with passion we danced, shouted the words at the top of our lungs (despite the fact I didn’t knew many, the Ugandans did), and jump up and down for a couple hours straight. It was a blessing to be around such an electric group of people and to see the joys on their face to get to be with them as they heard one of their favorite bands live! Possibly one of the most exciting concerts I’ve been to despite the lameness of the band.

Sunday Church in Mukono, Uganda
On Saturday I began my 2week long home stay with a lady named Joyce. After 2 days I must admit that it has been a challenge. The home I am staying in is an above average home in Uganda, yet I use an out house as a restroom, jugs of water our hauled a distance for cooking, drinking, and even bathing. Here, the power around town is out more often than on. Nights are a difficult sleep due to the neighbor’s loud radios, animals making noise, and the nuisance of bugs crawling around and buzzing in your ear. So everything takes work around here. Day to day life isn’t always easy or pleasant. When people get to the seventh day, most are warn out and ready to rest. So when people gather on Sunday morning they show up warn out and tired from their long week. But in Church they get the opportunity to hear the good news, and remember the gospel story they are living for. Sunday is almost like a time of re-energizing themselves so as they head out of church at the end of the service they are ready to take on a challenging week! In the US often people go to church, just because they feel they should, but then end up having multiple criticisms of it. But here they go to hear to good news and be reminded that no matter what they face they are serving an awesome God.

I have been blessed with the chance to worship with these brothers and sisters in Christ and I eagerly look forward to continue to do so for the rest of this semester.

Rwanda

2006-09-13T03:25:00.000-05:00

I’ve been in Africa for nearly two weeks now. Although I’ll be spending the rest of the semester in Uganda, the majority my time here has been in Rwanda. We spent eight days in Rwanda learning about the country, more specifically the genocide that took place in ’94 and the reconciliation process of the country since the genocide. For anyone who has seen the film Hotel Rwanda, you know that the events that took place in Rwanda the spring of 1994 were not pretty. Sadly enough, most Westerners (myself included) had never even heard of the genocide prior to seeing the film, or if they had heard of the event it was a small article tucked into the back of the daily newspaper. This small article probably expressed how there was a “civil war” in Rwanda, and that it was between two “ethnic” groups and also, that a “few” people had been killed. Unfortunately, the media, the government and the school systems of the United States has failed to portray the whole story. They failed to explain that this was no civil war, but rather a bloodshed genocide where a certain group of people was being slaughtered by a machete. Another fact I’m sure they left out was that the Hutu and Tutsi tribes were not two different ethnic groups, but rather an ideology that the Belgium’s began in the 30’s to separate the rich from the poor. This division made by the Belgium’s in the 1st half of the century led decades of discrimination in the “most Christian country in Africa” (90% of the country had been baptized at the time of the crises). And I’m also certain that the number of deaths that took place over this two-month period of time- it is estimated between 800,000 and 1,100,000- left the Americans deceived. Yes that second number is over 1 million humans, humans of all ages and gender.

You may want me to step off my soapbox now. You may be wondering what this all matters to us in the west. But I think it is important to know that this genocide wasn’t a freak incident that occurred out of the blue. This genocide was a planned massacre. This event had been planned, and worse yet the country that many of you reading this frequently pledge your allegiance to knew this was going to happen. Yet, they did nothing, instead the government that is currently spending 8 billion dollars a month in Iraq claimed that it would be too expensive to send a few soldiers to simply keep things in order. When the United Nations leader strived to gain support, the Clinton Administration did not help at all. Now I know we weren’t the only country the failed as the Europeans did the same thing, but regardless, the US failed. While 1 million people were killed because of an ideological identity, the west stood by and watched. The only action made was to come in and get our own tourist out…apparently the 1 million Africans that were killed didn’t matter or have the same worth as the wealthy white tourists. So in 1994 when the hit movie “Shindler’s List” came out about the Holocaust, Americans were brought to tears. A movement began that said, “never again!” In the same year the Rwandan Genocide occurred, and nothing was done.

I debated whether or not to share this with you all as my first blog to the states from Africa. But I felt I had to. When you go to Rwanda and see the things I’ve seen, I feel certain that the devil has won a battle if I remain silent. When you’ve heard the stories of priests and nuns putting their Hutu allegiances before their savior by burning down churches filled with Tutsis, something needs to be said about allegiances. When you walk into classrooms of an old Rwandan school only to see that each classroom full with skeletons of all sizes that were the result of the genocide 12 years ago, something needs to be said about how serious this was. When you hear first hand witnesses share about wives killing their husband and children; children killing best friends; small infants being thrown against cement walls; women’s lives being spared only to be raped multiple times a day for months by HIV+ males something has to be noted about the brutality of this event. When you stand on the ground where you know 100,000 bodies have been buried and that’s only a 1/10 of the deaths from this event where the country has lost an 1/8 of their population there is something to be said about the size of this genocide. And to realize that growing up I had never learned about this in school and many people from the States are unfamiliar of this event even goes to show the lack concern America has for a place that they can gain nothing from.

Does Africa, the middle east, Asia, etc. ever get spoken about in K-12? Has anyone ever learned anything in history growing up that didn’t relate to the U.S.? How much do we hear about the events occurring in Burundi right now, which are very similar to the situation in Rwanda? Who in America has even heard of the country named Burundi? What are we learning about the events in Northern Uganda or Sudan or the Congo? Have we heard of them? Was September 11th the worse crises of our generation or just the worse one that is spoken about? Just questions I thought I’d ask…Question’s I think all Christians should ask.

***By the way I love Africa and its awesome being here, thank you for all the prayers!***

Africa...A Reality?

2006-08-25T17:39:00.000-05:00

Right now I am sitting at the Moon Monkey Coffee Shop in Bourbonnais, IL. As I sip on my cup of Kenyan coffee, I find myself looking around pondering. Pondering how different of a setting I found myself two weeks ago as I lived in the deep-south and wondering the un-imaginable thought of what my surroundings will be like one week from today. As the world itself will most likely not drastically change over the next seven days, the world from my perspective may just make a 180.

Today I find myself a native of Illinois, one who has not been outside of his home state for more than two weeks until this past June. I have visited a few different states around the U.S. and the farthest I’ve traveled from home is Hawaii. Today I am someone who has seen films such as Hotel Rwanda and Invisible Children that make me cringe and want to live differently. Today I find myself a person who reads about injustice, poor, Africa and feel that the church should be there. I feel that the churches presence (the body of Christ) should be in these areas of poorness, injustice, unrest to offer the comfort, love, help, and healing that Christ has commanded us to offer to our neighbors. I sit here with these thoughts, these ideas and I wonder as I sit in my comfortable, known seat in my home state of this middle class area in Bourbonnais.

A week from now it’s hard to say what my thoughts and feelings will be. What I do know is that I will have stepped foot off this continent for the first time. In doing that I will have spent 10 hours in London,(first time in Europe) before landing in Uganda (my first time in Africa). After being in Uganda for only two days I will be traveling to Rwanda to spend 10 day to learn about the rebuilding process that is taking place after the largest genocide of our time that took place in 1994 in which 800,000 Rwandans were killed. So one week from right now, it’s hard to say what I’ll be doing, or what will be on my mind. But it’s fair to say that the world will look different to me. This Kenyan coffee that I am drinking right now won’t come from a coffee bean across the world, but from a coffee bean that is grown right next-door. Invisible Children isn’t just a heartbreaking injustice documentary, but it is a real life situation where I’ll have classmates that have escaped from abduction. I won’t be holding back the tears watching the Don Cheadle award winning film Hotel Rwanda in my basement, but rather I will be standing on the soil where nearly a million lives (real human beings, with real family, and real friends, and a real life) were taken out of hatred. I’ll be standing on the soil of the ruins, where the word that always comes up when describing the crisis in Rwanda ‘94 is “hell.” The HIV Aid epidemic won’t be that thing that is occurring to millions in the continent of Africa, but it will be the reality of what is going on all around town right, in front of my nose.

I don’t know what I’ll be thinking or even feeling. To be honest, I cannot even imagine the type of change, growth, or enlightenment that will occur throughout this next week of my life. But as I sit here, on the other side of the world from Uganda in middle class suburbia I’m excited to see the world. I’m excited to actually SEE the world outside of the United States. I’m excited to see what the world looks like outside of my normal comfort zone. Along with this excitement of course comes some nervousness and fear. If you’re reading this I’d like to ask you to come along with me on this journey. Remember me, email me, think about me, and please pray for me. I’ll get lonely, I’ll get tired and exhausted, so please join me on this journey.

Below is a map of Uganda. The campus I am attending and town that I will be spending most of my time in is Mukono.

The Vulnerability of Love

2006-08-07T15:18:00.000-05:00

Last Wednesday we had our last out reach event of the summer. Overall things went well as 35 people joined us. The night was offered to anyone in the community and consisted of a cookout, games, slip n’ slide, water fight, horse shoes, a puppet show and even a raffle for a brand new boom box. We do nights similar to this as well as other outreaches once week. We hope that through our outreach ministries that the people in this hurting community can see a glimpse of Christ’s true love. To reach out to the community and strive to represent Jesus, the church needs to practice love. And as loving others may sound easy, it actually ends up being quite difficult and draining.

Regretfully, there have been times throughout this summer where I’ve thought how nice it must’ve been for Constantine in the 4th century having the power to make everyone become a Christian. I’ve found myself thinking how easy “evangelists” had it in the Crusades when they would give people the easy option of being a Christian or dying. I’ve even found myself thinking how it would have been easier if things were like they were 100 years ago where everyone respected the church and were morally obedient. Instead, I find myself in Grand Bay, AL at an inactive church, in a racist, poverty-stricken, substance abused, disaster prone area where many are quite bitter towards the church. I find myself in a time period that unless you are a mega church (with lots of cash), it takes a lot of powerless love to reach people. As a leader of the Nazarene Church in Grand Bay, power is hard to come by. But yet, leaves the door open for what Christ intended the church to be.

Why does power appeal to us so much? Why are we so quick to choose power over love? These are question’s I’ve been pondering while reading Henri Nouwen’s book, “In the Name of Jesus.” It makes me wonder, is it possible that power is an easy and simple substitute that humans try to use to substitute love? The strong temptation to choose power has been around since the fall of man. Throughout the Old Testament you see it, throughout the history of the church you see it, and unfortunately it is still seen exercised today in the Church. But remember, Jesus had this temptation as well. Before Jesus entered into his “ministry” he spent 40days fasting and praying in the desert where Satan tempted him with real temptations. First he tempted him to be relevant, where the Devil asked Jesus to turn the stone into bread. After the Devil’s first failed attempt, he then tried the temptation to be spectacular. But the Lord refused to become a stunt man and have angels swoop down and catch him. After this I’m sure the Devil realized that Christ was not going to be an easy one to beat, so he brought out his final attempt at striving to make the Lord fall into sin on this trip to the desert. The Devil tempted Christ to be powerful. Christ was offered all the kingdoms of this world in their splendor. But he turned it down; he resisted the temptation of power.

Now I can’t help but look through the history of the church from Constantine, to the Crusaders, to the Catholic Church in the medieval era, to even many churches that stand today and ask what the blankity-blank were you/ are you thinking?!? But I think that they, like us realized something; love is hard. To love someone, there can be no power involved. True love, like the love Christ models for us, is to love with no strings attached. It is to love in a way that offers complete vulnerability. So vulnerable that rejection is always a possible outcome. I think what separates love from power is choice. When power is present, free choice isn’t available. When love is offered, in order for it to be true love a choice must be involved. The choice to either accept or simply reject the gift of love that has been offered. As human’s it is difficult to receive rejection. So the church over the years has fallen into the trap of exercising power and forsaking love. The lonely don’t have friends, the hungry aren’t being feed, the naked are not being clothed, the homeless are not finding shelter and most importantly the lost are not being found. And why? Because the church has no power over many of these people, and without power, rejection can occur.

I think this is why doing outreaches can be difficult at times. I realize that in order to represent Christ, I must offer love, not power. And to love others, I must be prepared for rejection. Jesus showed us what love is. And in the process of this many rejected him. We all enjoy the stories of Christ showing many the way of life, as we should. But lets not forget the rest. Let us not forget the Pharisees, lets not forget Judas’ betrayal, as well as the rest of his disciples including Peter, the one he passed the church on to. We must see that to pick up Christ’s cross and to carry it and to love like he loved there will be rejection around the corner. There will be pain, and there will be suffering. Because love my friends is vulnerable. Love is not of this world.

Confessions

2006-07-29T16:12:00.000-05:00

Confession #1: I am a nerd. It is difficult for me to come out and admit this facet. Especially considering I’ve spent the first 20 years of my life trying to climb the cool guy ladder. But for some reason, (probably the fact I hadn’t gotten that high in 20 years), I decided the ladder just wasn’t worth it anymore. Since accepting the fact that I would not be the coolest guy in the world, a lot of things have changed in my life. I am no longer an athlete or even partially in shape for that matter (nerd quality 1). It’s been ages since I’ve gone to a party and done something extreme and hardcore to prove my coolness to everyone…example a keg stand or going streaking (nerd quality 2). My G.P.A. has increased by a full point. When a professor assigns reading to the class I actually purchase the book, and then read it, with a highlighter and pen in hand (nerd quality 3). To top things off, I classify Theology as a favorite hobby of mine. I thoroughly enjoy reading and critiquing deep theological writings. One of my all time favorite things is to just sit down with a couple people over a cup of coffee and chat about all the deep and intense mysteries and way of God (nerd quality 4).

Confession #2: I don’t know everything. Despite the fact that I study and chat about theology a lot, I am very far from knowing everything. There’s actually quite a bit that I don’t understand, drawing me to see that God is beyond my comprehension. There are people in my field that don’t confess what I just confessed. There are some people in the religion field that do in fact “know” everything. They have a “perfect” answer to plug in to every possible problem one may come across. I however don’t possess that talent. I tried that angle before, where I was sure that there must be a perfect answer for every problem and I could bear the correct answer if I just knew enough. Despite all of my nerdy studying I do not have the answers. I cannot claim to know what step one has to take next in their life. I do not know 7 steps to a perfect life now (Joel Osteen does). I cannot give out a 40-day manual that will take some one’s walk with God to the next level (Rick Warren can). I am not sure what will happen in the end times or how the book of Revelation will pan out (Left Behind knows for sure). I cannot say for sure whether or not it is possible for one to lose their salvation. I also cannot claim to know who will and who will not enter the kingdom of God in the after life. I just don’t have the answer to the mysteries of theology. I definitely hold my opinions and views, yet I do not claim to hold the absolute answers.

Confession #3: I am ok with not knowing everything. To many it’s a fearful thing to not know everything about God. It is scary for people to see that maybe everything they grew up on is not the whole story. It is hard for many to accept that there may be more to Christianity than the cliché answers that they were continually spoon feed while growing up in the Church. It’s equally scary for some to realize that the foundation of their 5 step Jesus track that they use to live their life by is beginning to shake. It is scary for them to think through a question rather than to receive an easy answer that they once possessed. It is hard when you come to see that the Biblical text is much more deeper than the English “King James Version” words that are printed on the page in front of you. It is difficult to come to realize that God is so big, mighty, and mysterious in his loving ways that he is far beyond the capabilities of our human understandings. But I’ve come to see this as something other than scary. I’ve come to see it as beautiful. As it’s true that I don’t know everything about God, I do know something. I know that tomorrow morning I am going to wake up and I’ll have a God that wants to know me more. And better yet, I know that the next morning I’ll wake up to the same thing despite what tomorrow holds, as well as the next morning and even the morning after that. I feel that so often God is cut down to being a simple formula and we put him in this small box of absolutes and think that we have it all figured out. But if we really believe in the God that we say created this universe, sent his only son to live a perfect life, only to die for us despite the fact that we are so undeserving and yet he still come after us one by one extending that long loving grace filled arm towards us, is it possible that if this is the God we love and serve there might just be a few things out there about this almighty God that we don’t understand? I feel that when we step out of this formula box of who Jesus is, and what Christianity is, that we have the opportunity to step into a loving relationship with Jesus Christ. A relationship where we don’t fully know everything about our lover, but we take joy in having the opportunity to get closer and closer to him each and every day. What a beautiful opportunity we have. An opportunity to respond to a perfect lover who chases us, desires us, and promises us a whole new life.

Confession #4: I pray that you all will take the opportunity, to recieve the only perfect love I’ve ever witnessed, which comes from the God who eagerly wants to love us. When the shift is made from a legalistic checklist to a loving relationship, a whole new set of lens can be placed in front of your eyes.

Andromeda

2006-07-20T17:54:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time a wise person said, “A dog is a man’s best friend.” To be brutally honest, I’ve believed this statement to be a myth of true blasphemy my entire life. I’m sure like all things in life, my past has effected my beliefs of this. I am the son of Paula Jean Knapp. If anyone knows my mom’s spiteful, hate filled feelings for any type of mammal outside the human race you would only have to expect that some of that would be passed down to her children. My mom has a trademark yelp that sounds similar to the hyena from the Lion King whenever she is within a 50yard radius of an animal. I would have to say this was my first reason for never being a dog lover. Secondly, I would have to attribute all of the Hollywood movies out there like Sandlot, which made dogs out to be Lucifer’s first-string side kicks in so many movies during my era growing up. And lastly, I think my reason for being a dog dis-liker for so long, is for all the stupid dogs out there that make the entire dog population look bad. Examples...

- The idiot stray dog that attacked my little two-year-old niece (at the time) Lexi when she was innocently playing in the sandbox.
- Every male dog that attacks every person, object, thing or whatever in an inappropriate and sexual manner regardless of if they’ve been neutered or not.
- Our neighbors German Shepard who could out run me and enjoyed jumping his fence and chasing me full speed down the last block of my work out for 3 years straight (yes I ran from a dog for 3 of my high school years).

But something happened last month. Five weeks ago we held a car wash here at the church and it was then I saw her for the first time. Two statements that I considered to be myths became true reality to me in this moment. For the first time, I believed that a dog, can in fact, be a mans best friend. And I also realized that love at first sight does in fact exist. This was when I met my beautiful, playful, gorgeous little pit bull mix Andromeda (Anne). Anne is the second name given to our precious dog. The first name, Feleecia, was given to her by the Portage, IN team due to her flee problem (get it FeLEEcia). That only lasted for about two hours though. Since then she has received the classy name of Andromeda, compliments of Astronomy lover Jesse who named her after the constellation.

For the first couple weeks Anne would show up and leave as she pleased, but after we started feeding her well, giving her water and even inviting her into the house a couple of times she has found our home to be her home. As weird as it may sound she has been quite the addition to my summer experience. I was surprised to see how attached a person can get to a pup if they allow themselves to become vulnerable and loving with it. I’ll stop this post before I confess too much or weird too many people out about the new love in my life. All I wanted to say is that the statement, “A dog is a man’s best friend” is no myth at all! Like the famous Grizzly Man Timothy Treadwell, who lived 13 summers with grizzly bears until one ate him, once said, “Animals Rule!” I must say I am beginning to think that maybe Timothy Treadwell wasn’t that crazy, but rather in love. Huh? Yeah I’m stretching it a bit, I just wanted to share that I love my new dog! Peace out friends.

The Blessing of People

2006-07-14T17:15:00.000-05:00

I want to share what a blessing it is to have people in my life. We often think about all the things that we are so blessed to have, but how often do we really stop and think about how awesome it is to experience relationships and acquaintances of all sorts. While I’ve been down here in Alabama I’ve received the opportunity to come into contact with so many people on a daily basis. Many of the people are longing to share their joys, struggles, and even doubt of the world to whoever will listen. I personally enjoy hearing others stories so I have been blessed to hear about the lives of different locals. This past week I had the opportunity to pick two kids up for Vacation Bible School each day (Tyler, 5 and Mallory, 8). It was about a 10min. drive to the church and 10min back to their house. On the car rides I can’t count how many times these kids brought me to hysterical laughter from the silly things kids will say whether its about being a niga turtle for Halloween or about how their step daddy sometimes says bad words when he watches Auburn football (don’t forget to account for the extremely strong Alabama accent). But it would also be hard to count the number of times the children brought me to tears by sharing about their father’s death, the struggles of the hurricane, as well a telling me about how cool they thought Jesus was. The joy these kids brought to my life from the two 10 minute sessions a day cannot be fully explained, but can be summed up as incredible.

My thankfulness again stretches as I have an awesome team that I have been blessed to work with while being down here this summer. The blessings of having a team of people to share your life with on an intimate level as you spend minute after minute, day after day with is incredible. We also had three new guys come to stay for a month this past week; all of them have brought a new taste and new gifts to the team. These relationships are special. It makes me thankful that Christ has allowed us to experience close bonds with others and has even urged us to unite as one. It has become very apparent to me while I’ve been down here that I will never do ministry “alone.” Christ never attended us to share the gospel all alone. He sent his disciples out in pairs for a reason and he passed the church on for Peter to lead with the expectation that we may all come together as one working hard to represent him and be the church. For this I am thankful, again beyond explanation for the Alabama NDR team Tim, Danielle, Charles, Jesse, Jordan, Marcus, Jeff, and Keith. Before this summer the team only consisted of the first three on the list, through prayer help arrived to Bayou La Batre to hopefully help Tim, D, and Charles.

I must also extend thankfulness to all of the people that have taken such great care of us while we have been down here. Tim and Danielle would top off this list. But also the Church family in Daphne at Lighthouse Church of the Nazarene has taken us all in and adopted us, while teaching me so many valuable things about what it means to be a church “family”. We have furniture, appliances, kitchen utensils and so much more due to the kindness of these people. While we have been here we have also receive the blessings of food each day from the work teams that come. In the six weeks I’ve been down here, I haven’t gone grocery shopping once. Along with the great meals these teams have brought us, I feel that the relationships built out weight that. It is great to be making friends that stretch as far east as Delaware and west as Washington/California. Some I have been able to stay in touch with through facebook, email, or blog. It has been awesome to learn from as well as teach these diverse individuals that come to serve weekly. This is one more blessing I just have to thank the Lord for.

Just last week, I again had an awesome chance to see how incredible it is to have the ability to love other people and share life with them. Last week my parents, Kendra (sister), and Rachel (girlfriend) came down to visit me for about 6 days. It is special to have two awesome loving parents, that as I grow I can see how much they have taught me and how I would not be where I am today with out the incredible impact they’ve had on my life. It is also cool to have a sister that is a best friend, someone that I can talk and discuss anything with. And having Rachel there was an incredible blessing as well. Anyone who has ever had or has a significant other can vouch that something amazing (and completely different from anything else) happens when being blessed with the opportunity to spend and enjoy time with that person. I am thankful that that they drove a wretched 14 hours each way to see me (Rachel 6 more to get to Rochester, MN). It made me so happy to see them as well as so eager to remember all the wonderful people that I have in my life including the rest of my family that wasn’t able to make it.

This is only a peak into how great I think it is to have the opportunity to be with people and share with them. There is so many more people and so many other levels of acquaintances that I am thankful for whether it’s the people you see in the store that make you smile, or the actor on a movie that makes you see something new, or even an author that helps you see things in a new light, I believe that the opportunity to be in this world and be surrounded by other poeple is awesome. And this is what I am thankful for today.

"The Outreach Ministry Coordinator"

2006-07-01T16:47:00.000-05:00

Each team that comes in to work with NDR begins their trip with Orientation. Orientation is that time where Tim educates the team’s on who NDR is and what we are about. He goes on to share all of the important aspects of trip as well as saying his once a week jokes that he has the opportunity to keep using since it’s a new group each week. This jokes include, “We have one very important rule here, and it is –DON’T LET FRIENDS DO STUPID THINGS” after a few giggles he tops it off by saying, “We all need to be flexible while were here, or as we like to say, -we need to be Gumby.” This witty joke either gets great laughter for those who are familiar with the green flexible cartoon character from the late 80’s or it leaves a silence that is awkward for just about everyone. But after his jokes clear up, Tim introduces the team.

Tim starts by saying our name and then tells our roll on the team. As weird as this may sound, this is kind of an exciting portion of the week for me. You see, most people when doing an internship for a summer don’t get a title besides “the intern”, except for the title that has the equivalence of the word for a female dog. But I on the other hand have been blessed with a job title for the 10 weeks I will be working here in Bayou La Batre. “And in the back there, Tim begins as he glances up “is my intern for the summer Ryan and he is the ‘Outreach Ministry Coordinator.’” How tight is that?

To understand my position, I’ll fill you all (or yall) in on th Grand Bay Church of the Nazarene, where we are based out of. This church has been inactive since this past March. For the past decade there have been some nasty congregational problems, which after going through 8 pastors in 7 years, the district superintendent decided that for the time being the church had to be closed down. Grand Bay and Bayou la Batre are extremely poverty stricken areas that don’t receive too much and is in dire need of true hope. Hope that will help them conquer their painful lives filled with so many suffering that are foreign to me. Common suffering in the area stretches from poverty due to a bad fishing season, damaged or lost homes due to hurricanes, and for many it is even losing loved ones to overdosing at the nearby crack house.

Although the Nazarene Church here in Grand Bay is inactive we look to open it within the next year, hopefully this fall if things work out. This is where my coordinating title comes into play. To lead into a restart we hold outreach nights once a week for the community. The district allows us to house volunteers teams at the church and out of the teams that stay here, I work at organizing an outreach night with them. These outreach nights have been a variety of things so far. We have had a few different parties with food and games for the community, there has been a couple teams that held a VBS, one team hosted a free car wash with a raffle for a $75 Gift Card, and some teams will just invite people of the community over for dinner at the church. So far these outreach nights have been incredible as I can see members of the community showing up and having a wonderful time. Some it seems are even baffled of why everyone us people are so kind. Each event I find myself as I leave believing in my heart, “this church is going to restart…some of these faces will be the future of this church…peoples lives will forever be changed for generations to come…Grand Bay is seeing there is hope!” We are beginning to see familiar faces as we keep in touch with these wonderful people that join us often for fellowship. Through conversation I get the opportunity to learn more and more about the lives of these individuals and the struggles so many of them have gone through, as so many of them have lived their entire lives in this community. And as all these wonderful things are happening, I remind myself that in five weeks I’m no longer a resident of Grand Bay, AL. I will be leaving the place and the people I’m falling in love with. And all I can do is pray. Pray, knowing and remembering that God is faithful. Pray believing and practicing that my love to this community will not be a hit and run, but rather it will plant a seed. A seed that I can only pray will continue to grow and produce more seeds that will be planted for generations to come. So please pray for me as I’m planting, pray that I’m fertilizing to the best of my abilities and most definitely pray for what I know God is doing in the lives of the people in this community. And while you’re at it, never forget that there are seeds to be planted all around you no matter where you are at.

“Any man can count the number of seeds in an apple. No one knows how many apples are in a seed’, think about it.” Nick –a contractor from Portage, IN who came to serve in the Bayou 2 weeks ago—

What is...

2006-06-21T21:57:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I received a challenge. Not like the usual challenges that I get everyday (like seeing God in everything, fulfilling my tasks at work, making sure I don’t miss the toilet in the morning and so on). This challenge was different; it hit me in a unique way, a way that really stuck with me unlike the ordinary everyday struggle. This time it was my theology that rattled me. Now likewise, my theological views are often challenged since there are so many views out there that have been debated and fought over (literally) for centuries. Many of those theological differences that I have wrestled with and have found hard to fully understand, I have realized and accepted that the views cannot be fully proven and is irrelevant in ones day to day life if they are living for Christ (as in: Was creation a literal 7 days? Can one loose their salvation? Has God predestined the future? Is Jesus black?). All of these questions I indeed hold views on (some even strong views), but they don’t affect my every move. This is why the challenge I received yesterday was so different.

I have become extremely passionate that as Christians, we are called to live our lives in a way that is aware of the fact that there are multitudes of people with great need in this world. I have become very passionate that the words spoken by Jesus, that the gospel writers recorded, are to be foundational to who we are and what sets us apart from the world. I have also become passionate in believing that it does not take someone with a doctorate in Biblical Exegesis Studies to read through the gospel and realize that Jesus had a deep significant care for those in need, for those who didn’t have as much, and for those who were poor regardless of their morals, regardless of their religion, and regardless of their ethnicity. How did Christ do this? He meets the people (sinners) where they were at and served them. Drunkards he met at the Bar. Adulteress Samaritan women (which a Jew should never speak with) he met right outside their home. Crippled men he met at their bedside. Robbers he met and used some of his last breaths of life to save. Jesus met people’s needs by meeting them where they were. He didn’t do it by being loaded and delegating someone to do his dirty work, he didn’t do it by writing a kind postcard from his fancy house, but he just came and met these peoples needs as an unattractive, non-wealthy, rugged man of simplicity. So with all this I can’t help but become extremely convicted that I, as an important relevant aspect of my journey, am called to live a life of solidarity.

This is where my challenge arose. After being so passionate about living a life of solidarity for so long and hoping that it would carry into my future, I was asked a question yesterday, “How does one live a life of solidarity?” “Well easy”, I quickly thought, “by living in a way that allows you to relate to someone in need, so that you can better understand someone and have compassion with them. Because of course you cannot truly help someone or make them believe that you truly care until you are ready to step down to where they are and live with them.” I thought it was a pretty good answer. But the retaliation to my answer buried me. “Is watching what you spend and how you live along with prayer and love enough?” “How far should you take this solidarity thing?” “Out of solidarity should we live in a trailer like the hurricane victims?” “But if so, people are homeless too, should we be homeless to better meet their needs?” “There are also people starving, should we starve too, so that we can relate to them?” “How do you have solidarity for someone in a situation or culture you cannot even understand?” The questions could go on forever. But to sum things up, my passion of solidarity has been rattled. Not that I feel any less about it being necessary, but I just realized that I’m clueless of how is it to be lived? What does solidarity actually mean? My cliché answer (which I honestly thought was pretty good) isn’t enough. My cliché answer does not answer how myself or someone else can live a life truly devoted to solidarity. This is where I’ve find myself today…wondering, wrestling, and pondering what solidarity truly means and how or if it can truly (and effectively) be lived.

True or False...My Post Title/Picture is the coolest thing yall have ever seen in the blogging world?

Doubt and Discomfort

2006-06-15T16:59:00.000-05:00

My first week in the Bayou was not the most pleasant seven days of my life. After waiting for months with filled anticipation for my summer in the Deep South, I arrived feeling an immediate discomfort. I have never really been in a situation where everything is new to me. This has all been new. I arrived to a house having no idea where I was staying, I arrived to a job having a slim idea of what I was doing, and I was placed into a community with new people that I would be spending all my time with . The exciting trip I couldn’t wait for began as a trip where I quickly started asking, “what did I get myself into?”

I think the Devil is pretty skilled when it comes to helping us doubt when we feel discomfort. I’m saddened to say that I spent a lot of this first week doubting why I came down to Alabama to do my internship when I had plenty of opportunities in the Midwest. Last week we had a work team from Kentucky staying at the church. On the registration sheets, it stated that 13 people were coming, half that would be skilled laborers. To our surprise we go double the number of people and unfortunately they informed us that none of the skilled members of the congregation were able to make it. Now I’m not one to be critical of someone that isn’t an all-star carpenter, as I’m no God of home building myself (that’s my dad). However, on the majority of the houses that NDR is working on in Bayou La Batre we need some sort of skill as we are no longer in the stages of gutting and cleaning out houses. So to make a long story short, we really struggled to find the team stuff to keep everyone busy, which led to frustration, which then led to us and the team probably not having the best week of our lives.

After the team left on Saturday, we looked at the returned comment sheets that we pass around to everyone and collect at the close of the trip. Probably 80 % of them were negative. Reading most of them, it was easy just to laugh and brush off knowing that the 12 year girl was upset because she got bed bugs every night or the boy that wanted to do something besides weed-whack was mad even though he wouldn’t know the head of the hammer from the butt of it. But when you read comments that say, “I was very disappointed and would not do another trip with Nazarene Disaster Response” that hits home very hard.
….
This past week we’ve had three teams with us: Indianapolis First Church, Kansas Nazarene District and Lakewood Church of the Nazarene. Overall, all three of the teams have been great and a blessing to have with us (the Kentucky team was a blessing too of course, just a different kind), but I would like to concentrate on the team from Lakewood, Colorado. All together this team has helped me see many important aspects of the Christian church. The team brought 37 men and women ranging between the ages of 10 and 80. Throughout the week there were multiple areas that I was impressed with. Despite the diversity in ages and gender there was not much division between the old and the young as they worked, ate, and even played games together at night. Everyone worked hard and strived to keep busy contributing with whatever they had to offer. Whether it was the older men working on skilled projects, women cooking meals and cleaning, the college team walking all around town getting children to come to VBS, or even the high school kids that helped one of the locals fix his broken bicycle, this team came ready to serve in every aspect.

For every team that comes to work, we cook a thank you dinner for them as a way to show our appreciation for the help. Last night we had the thank you dinner for Lakewood. Following the dinner they began to share what they were thankful for as they reflected on their trip. Let me just say, it was awesome to be there. Together they all started sharing stories, blessing, and even encouragements amongst the team. The members of the team were breaking down in tears as they shared all that was going on and I noticed something. This team was being broken, and even molded into a stronger team. They drove 25 hours out of their comfort zone, worked hard, lived in uncomfortable conditions, and strived their hardest to meet the needs of hurting people. They were willing to do whatever it took to meet the needs of the people here. And in this, they were broken, broken in a way that they would never forget, in a way that will make them much stronger in the future. This reminded my why I came to Alabama. I came here to be broken. I cannot mend someone’s brokenness unless I am willing to break first. Is this not what Christ did for us, break in order to mend us?

I cannot say that I have enjoyed every minute of being down here, but can say I am being broken. And that is something to thank God for. I’ve doubted because it hasn’t “felt” right all the time. But that doubtful feeling is discomfort, a discomfort that I came here to experience.

Back to the Bayou

2006-06-06T17:49:00.000-05:00

Here I am, finally back in Bayou La Batre, Alabama. I arrived in the Deep South around 8:00 on Sunday night after a 13-hour drive from Bloomington, IL. This is the first time I’ve driven alone on a long distance journey. Please let me know if it is normal to feel this way, but after completing my drive of 900miles in one day’s sunlight I feel like a total champ. On Sunday night I got all moved in and unpacked, which basically consisted of a suitcase and two small crates. As I unpacked and looked around my room it was cool to see all of my belongings in the corner. It feels great not having much stuff and just being able to live in simplicity. While I’m down here for 10weeks I’m living with two Olivet Grads, Jordan Mitchell and Jesse Washkau. The two of them are actually going to be staying down here for a year as staff members of Nazarene Disaster Response. The house we’re living at down here is pretty sweet. The house is owned by The Grand Bay Church of the Nazarene, which we are living next to and are having teams stay at most weeks. A lot of people in the area and neighboring churches have been extremely friendly and generous in donating things to us for our home. Because of their help we have beds, couches, chairs, a TV, stereo, and many other helpful accessories.

On Sunday night, a couple hours after I got in a work team of 20 from Kentucky arrived at the church. This week we have the team from Kentucky as well as a team of about 10 from Northern Alabama. In a nut shell a lot of my summer will be interacting with these teams and accommodating them so that they can serve the community. I am finding out quickly that a lot goes into this. We are also planning on having a community out reach program once a week with the teams that are coming in. These out reaches will vary from week to week depending on the teams that come in and their spiritual gifts. It is hard thus far to really share what I am feeling or thinking after only being here for a couple of days. I think things will start to come together as I get into the swing of things and start to grasp what I am doing here. Your prayers are deeply appreciated as there is a lot of things that God can definitely do down here. Your help in that would be awesome.

Also, I just wanted to add that we did get off work a little early yesterday and got a chance to go to Dolphin Island (the nearby beach that dips into the gorgeous Gulf of Mexico). I thought you northerners would love to hear that☺ Thanks for reading and God Bless…Ryan

What Sign am I Holding?

2006-05-28T19:33:00.000-05:00

The closer I get to taking off for Alabama, I find myself thinking back to the incredible trip I took down there this past spring break with my buddies Marcus Winn, Jordan Mitchell, Brad Krohe, Lindsey Gant and Rebekah Gibson (see team pic above). This past spring break holds so many awesome memories as we daily came into contact with these wondrous individuals that had undergone so much pain and despair as a result of the hurricane. Although I found myself at times in uncomfortable situations I felt great joy in having the opportunity to see these people, talk to them, listen to them and most importantly help them in a time of need. Despite all of my great memories from Bayou La Batre, I’d like to share one that bothered me the most during my weeklong trip in Alabama.

While I was riding with the rest of the crew back to the church we were staying at, we drove past something that bothered me greatly. I assumed that everyone who came down to offer aid as a result of the disaster were there to show compassion and help people out. To my surprise, I was wrong. As we drove by the local drug store we witnessed an evangelist preaching out of the back of a pick up truck with speakers loud enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if the hurricane victims in New Orleans heard him as well. On the lawn, in front of the screaming preacher trying to guilt people into salvation stood three young teenage girls each holding a separate cardboard sign. The signs held by these completely expressionless girls read:

Sign #1: WHERE WILL YOU SPEND ETERNITY?
Sign #2: DON’T GAMBLE AWAY YOUR SOUL! REPENT NOW!
Sign #3: DO YOU WANT TO GO TO HELL? THEN GET SAVED NOW!

I’ll be honest, my initial reaction involved un-Christian-like language. These signs and this pick up truck evangelist ticked me off beyond description. I wanted to turn around and shout at them. I wanted to make my own signs, changing sign #2 to saying, “DON’T JUDGE AWAY YOUR SOUL! REPENT NOW!” At least I wanted to get into a theological discussion asking curiously “when did Jesus preach through shallow, guilt craving, judgmental signs?” But fortunately I was in the back seat and the driver, Marcus, has better anger management than myself. The next couple of minutes we sat in silence.

There were multiple reasons this act of “evangelism” bothered me. For starters, they are holding these signs in a community that has been stricken with unfortunate pain. These people are hurting and need loving compassion, not hateful judgment. As I thought back to the gospel, I struggled to think of any passages that showed Jesus coming across in this harsh type of manner. I always thought of Jesus being relational, rather than informing sinners through un-relational signs that they were going to burn in hell. I always recalled Christ meeting these people where they were at, and even befriending them. I always felt that Christ was relational in every way of his ministry, whether it was with his disciples he taught, the tax collectors he ate with, the drunkards he hung out with, or the robbers that were hung on each side of him, he shared the good news with them relationally.

As I built up this anger filled rage against the disaster evangelists on the side of the road with poor theology, I began to wonder. What signs am I holding up? Of course I’m not literally holding a sign in my hand, but daily I come into contact with people. What do they see when they look at me? As members of the catholic (universal) church, I believe that we are to be bearers of the gospel and represent Christ in our day-to-day actions. But I began to wonder, if I fail to reach out and care for the people in this world that are in need (which I must admit I do on a daily bases) do I have any room to criticize the ones reaching out in a poor manner? Is it not the same as holding up a sign that says, “I DON’T CARE ENOUGH TO LOVE YOU TODAY.”? Don’t get me wrong, I am not condoning the acts of these people I witnessed last spring in Alabama. But I am, however suggesting that maybe we all, everyday hold up a sign whether we realize it or not. Is it possible that every time we come into contact with someone we are holding a sign, usually unconscious, yet it’s there? Maybe rather than getting upset and bitter over a poor representation of Christ, I need to ask my self and encourage my brothers and sisters in Christ, “how am I (are you) representing Christ?” “What sign am I (are you) holding today?”

A New Do and Words of Wisdom from MLK

2006-05-25T23:55:00.000-05:00

For all of you who check this site hoping to see a new picture of my beautiful face, today is your lucky day. Today, I am offering a double feature including the before and after affects of my new hair do. It is crazy how a little bit of hair can make someone look so different, huh?

I personally don't have anything insightful to say today in this post. However, I wanted to share with you something I found to be really cool from arguably the greatest leader of the 20th century. Below is an excerpt of a letter written by Martin Luther King Jr. from the Birmingham City Jail after being arrested in 1963. In this excerpt he shares with us his views on extremism after being referred to as an extremist, enjoy...…

"But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label. Was not Jesus an extremist for love: "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." Was not Amos an extremist for justice: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the Christian gospel: "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an extremist: "Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise, so help me God." And John Bunyan: "I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of my conscience." And Abraham Lincoln: "This nation cannot survive half slave and half free." And Thomas Jefferson: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal ..." So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremist for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary's hill three men were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same crime---the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists."
--Martin Luther King Jr.--

If you get the chance I encourage you to check out his entire letter at this link.
http://almaz.com/nobel/peace/MLK-jail.html

Welcome to My Life

2006-05-18T22:21:00.000-05:00

I must begin with my apologies, as this is my first experience with having a blog. I am not use to recording a bunch of crazy thoughts and events that have taken place in my life and then sharing them with everyone and anyone who is interested. So please bear with me as I strive to express myself as a first timer in the Internet blog world.

As most of you readers probably already know, in 2 weeks I am beginning a journey unlike any journey I have ever been apart of. On Sunday, June 4th I will be driving down to the village of Bayou La Batre, Alabama to spend 2 ½ months of my summer. Bayou La Batre is a small fishing community that touches the Gulf of Mexico. For any of you Forrest Gump fans, Bayou La Batre is the home of the character Bubba in the movie (Forrest’s friend who loves to go shrimin’). This town received a substantial amount of damage from the hurricane that hit this past summer. While I am down there I will be interning under Tim Whetstone, the coordination of Nazarene Disaster Response for the Alabama area. During the internship, we will be heading up groups as large as 110 that come down to help out with the damage. In the mean time, we will also be in the process of planting a church in the area. Upon my return from Alabama I will be leaving for Kampala, Uganda (Eastern Africa) two weeks later to spend my fall semester (3 ½ months). In Kampala, I will be attending Uganda Christian University, through the studies abroad program, where I will be continuing my theological studies, but also learning more about their culture and Eastern African politics. Both of these trips and experiences I will talk more about as I receive more information of what I’ll be doing.

As I take off in 2 weeks to begin these incredible opportunities I can’t help but look back and see how all this has came about. I can still remember the moment last summer when I prayed the prayer asking God, “What do you want from me? What on earth am I supposed to be doing here? God, I’m tired, I feel that I’m living a worthless life, a life that holds no future.” And I can still recall the time period last fall when I was effected by the words of Christ like it had never effected me before: “love your neighbor as yourself”, “go sell all your possessions and give to the poor…then come, follow me”, “go and make disciples of all nations”; “whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” As this hit me, I struggled to tell whether God was providing me with direction or if I was completely out of my mind. I started to feel that I, as a barrier of the gospel, was called to live a life of submission, simplicity, and distinctiveness. And now, here I am, writing six months later, still not fully understanding what all this means, yet being provided with the next step to take in my journey towards something. But don’t get me wrong, I’m surely out of my mind as well.

For the past school year I have been studying, reading, discussing and writing papers about my heart’s deepest passions that are screaming out to the less fortunate. But as I get closer to my departure, I feel that the words that I have been preaching must rise up and become more than just words. Anxiety has begun to set in while I notice the fears that I am bringing into this journey. For the first time in as long as I can remember I have gone without good sleep for a couple weeks straight. I lay in bed completely restless, when I do find sleep it’s filled with the most whacked out dreams. Where does this restlessness come from, I have to wonder-- I know that when I travel down to Alabama everything I have been standing for only means so much. I know that standing in front of a classroom and passionately speaking, “We must love all our neighbors as ourselves!” no longer holds value. I know that turning in a theology paper that states, “Believers today need to be set apart from the world and be distinctive in this society!” are only words on a paper. I see that coffee shop conversations with buddies over liberation theology and how we need to love the poor and learn from great leaders like Oscar Romero, Martin Luther King Jr., or even Gandhi becomes only conversation. -- The reason for my restlessness has become apparent to me. To be honest, I am scared; I am in fear of what the future holds. What if I am all talk? What if I don’t love the way I say people should love? What if my passion runs dry? The opportunity has risen, the question that stands is--can I live, can I love, can I be, the way I have been preaching we should be?

I am thankful and very appreciative of all your prayers and financial help. Please check out this site when you get a chance, to try to stay in touch. I’ll try to post about once a week (more or less) depending on what my schedule will look like. I love you all, God Bless and thanks again for being a part of this journey with me.

--Ryan