The Wisdom of Walking

It’s been conservatively calculated that at the end of an 80-year lifetime, a person would have walked 220,000,000 steps (7500/day). That is a lot of steps. A college student by the name of Andrew Forsthoefel, after being fired from his job three months after graduation, decided to take a lot of steps, 4000 miles of it (go hear for the entire podcast: This American Life: “Hit the Road”). From Philadelphia to New Orleans to the Pacific, he walked on foot across America with one rule: no rides. But the fascinating thing about his trip was not merely the feat of feet, but it was what he heard along the way. He narrates what he was doing on this long trek:

And as for why, well, I wanted to listen. After all, I was wearing a sign that said, walking to listen. And people told me about their lives, what they’d done, what they wish they’d done, whatever they thought I needed to hear. In Louisiana, a guy who let me camp out behind his trailer told me, all you’re doing is reading a book, just with your feet.

The thing is, we are all walking, somewhere, with someone. Every one of our feet has a story (or stories) to tell, and the longer they’ve walked, more likely that they have much more to say. It kinda reminds me of a blog post by a friend of mine, where we may speak different languages, but there is always a story. So then, what stories do your feet tell? Or better yet, do you care to hear where other’s have gone?

Along the way, Forsthoefel asked many people a similar question, taking all of what they have learned in life, what they would tell their previous twenty-three year old selves. My favorite response came from an elderly Southern belle.

Yeah, I wouldn’t worry so much. I used to worry myself to death. And then now I realize the things you worry about, how many of them come true? Very seldom.

I’d go barefoot more. I wouldn’t be nice. I wouldn’t be the nice little Southern girl. I’d be a bitch.

I wasn’t passive aggressive. I was just passive.

There is, more often than not, wisdom in walking. There is wisdom in age (though age doesn’t necessitate wisdom). But I wonder for us younger folk, how much we are listening. How often do we consign the elderly to obsolescence? More often than not, perhaps? It may do our generation some good to stop running as if we are running alone, to stop and listen to the feet that have walked before us. If we do, we may just not have to take as many useless steps anymore.

The Box of Sexual Orientation

In a very thought provoking TED talk (titled “Fifty Shades of Gay”), iO Tillett Wright speaks of boxes. She speaks of how we, human beings, naturally want to put other people into boxes or ‘categories’, if you will, and she implies that by doing so we diminish the humanity of the other. She never does address why boxes are always bad (the underlying assumption in her talk), nor does she explain how self-evident relates to equality (or even diversity!). As much as she works these terms toward the emotional (which isn’t a bad thing), she does offer much food for thought. One such is to ponder how we, particularly Christians, box other people into one-dimensional cartoons, and how that affects the way we engage one another. Recognizing multiplicity isn’t necessarily the panacea for discrimination, but it’s something worth mulling over. (I am also very curious as to peoples reactions to the talk. Comment!)

 

The Death of ‘Dating’ (whatever that means…)

In the world of generational categories, I fall in the sociological grouping called Generation X. It’s the generation that spans from the early 1960′s to the early 1980′s right after the Baby Boomer generation. Known to be uniquely characterized by independence and self-sufficiency, it seems to be a favorable thing to have just made the cut, into Generation X. This is so, not only because independence and self-sufficiency are good qualities (they can be poor qualities more than we realize), but because the next generation, the Millennials are a grouping with which I’d not like to be associated. The Millennials, people who are roughly born between 1982 and 1999, are characterized, particularly in the workplace, by having problems with personal interaction and conflict resolution. Rex Huppke gives a conversational anecdote of the said characteristics of the Millennials in the Chicago Tribute article “Millennials struggle with confrontation at work“:

Gravett said that in a recent focus group with 10 millennials, the subjects said they prefer to text someone they’re having a problem with rather than speak by phone or face to face.

“I asked them why they won’t just talk to someone over coffee or something,” she said. “And they said, ‘Oh, that’s too personal.’”

Another millennial told Gravett that the boss had yelled at him. She asked whether the boss raised his voice. The millennial said, “No.”

She asked whether the boss used profanity. The millennial said, “No.”

“So I said, ‘Explain to me what yelling at you means,’ and the young man said, ‘Well, he was really firm and he disagreed with me.’ He took that as being yelled at.”

Oh boy. If having someone disagree with you is akin to yelling, your work life is going to be deafening.

Unfortunately for the average Millennial, this problem with personal interaction and conflict resolution does not seem to only remain in the professional realm but also affects them in the social world. Alex Williams writes in a NY Times article titled, “The End of Courtship?” about how the social media and online dating sites have turned the new generation into people who are novices at face-to-face interaction.

Relationship experts point to technology as another factor in the upending of dating culture.

Traditional courtship — picking up the telephone and asking someone on a date — required courage, strategic planning and a considerable investment of ego (by telephone, rejection stings). Not so with texting, e-mail, Twitter or other forms of “asynchronous communication,” as techies call it. In the context of dating, it removes much of the need for charm; it’s more like dropping a line in the water and hoping for a nibble.

“I’ve seen men put more effort into finding a movie to watch on Netflix Instant than composing a coherent message to ask a woman out,” said Anna Goldfarb, 34, an author and blogger in Moorestown, N.J. A typical, annoying query is the last-minute: “Is anything fun going on tonight?” More annoying still are the men who simply ping, “Hey” or “ ’sup.”

Williams appropriately quotes Andrea Lavinthal in identifying us as “all [having] Ph.D.’s in Internet stalking these days.” But is it really merely the fact that the Millennials have replaced the skill of personal interaction for expertise in navigating cyberspace that has led to this so-called death of dating? Possibly, if we are speaking of surface level influences. A look deep enough at the phenomenon of the ‘death of dating’ should actually quite naturally lead to the following questions: Was our idea of dating correct to begin with? What are we trying to recover? Or moreover, why are we so averse to confrontation?

The answer? I am unsure. It would be presumptuous of me to claim to know this answer to the problems of the non-confrontational Millennials and the end of courting, but it would be unhelpful to just remain silent on the issue, not to mention, I would be acting non-confrontational. A suggestion that could be made is to begin to think of our cultural problems not in terms of technology or dating, but in terms of the notion of ‘autonomy’, which lies deeper than technological circumstances (Possibly a residual effect of the independence and self-sufficiency of Generation X). Non-confrontation go hand in hand with the popular idea of tolerance in that they both tout individualism over and against any sense of dependence. The overemphasis of individualism causes any conflicts or even minor disagreements to seem like attacks on the independent volition of the person against whom there is a disagreement. Then we eventually end up jettisoning any ideas of persuasion and pejoratively label any act that convinces another as proselytizing. All types of discussion enter into no man’s land, and friendly debate is perceived as a war zone. No wonder a disagreement sounds like a yell.

You may not be convinced that autonomy is at the root of the problem (it may just be a part of the problem), but I do know one thing that is proven to be helpful in learning how to confront, which is bold humility. It means to begin any discussion, debate, or argument with the thought, “Maybe I am wrong.” Not in the sense of losing personal conviction or conceding to the erroneous philosophy of postmodernism, but in the sense of being open to listening.  I do not know how much that would help in getting that next date with the next girl, but it will certainly lower the decibel on all voices that disagree with you and would allow for healthy confrontation. Plus, if you don’t agree, you’re probably a Millennial, not concerned about getting that next traditional date.

Essential Extravagance of Festivities

‘Tis the season to be jolly~ fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la~~.

Jolly. Joy. Jubilee. Christmas is a time to celebrate. The colors, the music, hot chocolate warming a set of cold hands, the tinkle of the salvation army bell, the crowds and floats of the Macy’s parade, chestnuts roasting on an open fire (yes, I had to throw that one in); the air of December twenty-fifth moves us to celebration. Of course, not all celebrate the same things. The Christian will obviously celebrate Christ. The Jew, Chanukah (of course not the same day but the same month). And the atheist and agnostic still celebrate family and friends, or maybe one just celebrates the day off. Regardless of what the object of celebration is, Christmas is a time to be jolly, joyful, jubilant.

Often the Christian message that I hear in this season of December is a message that contends against the swing of culture toward materialism and for bringing the day back to celebrating the one who started the holiday, Christ. It is a true and profound message. But as I contemplate this message of anti-materialism slash gratitude of the Ultimate Gift, I’ve come to realize one thing. I’m not good at celebrating. In having processed the message of anti-materialism, I have become a poor participator of festivities. I have subconsciously filed in my mind all extravagance into the category of frivolities. And I have to say, I blame Christianity.

The culture of Christianity has historically found difficulty in accommodating the extravagant. It has often, for the sake of ultimates and essentials, sidelined the extravagant. And along the way, function has taken over form as the better half of the created order. If an object has no usefulness or function, it is difficult to find a place in the realm of modern Christianity. Art, in particular, is a victim of this tendency. The artistic has become at times unnecessary. People have asked, “Why pour resources in such a frivolous endeavor when there are essential needs in this world?” Christians have said, “Fashion is so extravagant that it’s so unimportant compared to the essential needs of injustice.” Yes, it is true that the artistic, music, paintings, dance, comedy, musicals, films and fashion, are all things that do not scream ‘urgent’. But for some reason, the culture of Christianity has concluded that the extravagant is never essential. Jed Perl, the art critic of The New Republic, writes in his article titled, “Put In Your Oar“, that the arts are sometime shoved into places of being efficient, but he contends that the arts are necessarily inefficient, and that its extravagance is essential:

In perilous times, those who love the arts quite naturally go on the defensive. They try to prove that the arts are in fact cost effective. They are playing a dangerous game. Too much can too easily be reduced to crowds and numbers crunching. Some argue that public arts funding boosts tourism. Others theorize that arts education improves children’s brains. And in publishing, the defenders of the now-endangered mid-list author argue that you will only find the next bestseller if you take a chance on what may initially look like modest books. I am certainly not advocating fiscal or institutional irresponsibility. In my experience, creative people are among the more fiscally responsible citizens, simply because they cannot afford to be otherwise. But I think we must insist on the fundamental inefficiency of the arts, on their essential extravagance.

I do not know where Perl’s faith lies, but he does offer the modern culture of Christian functionalism some good advice. Extravagance and essential are not antonyms. To always pit extravagance against the notion of essential is to lose the full Christian worldview. It is to make Christmas decorating a wasteful endeavor. It makes gift giving worthy only if the gift fits the functional needs of the recipient. It turns us into robots of efficiency. It makes us incapable of being jolly, joyful, and jubilant. So at the turn of this Christmas day, I will remember the One who came to save those who would believe, but I will also learn to sit, frivolously enjoying the Christmas lights, music and company, and at times enjoying extravagance, because that I believe is the glimpse of the world into which He save us.

Generational Gap – Part 3: The Clash of Cultures

One afternoon after class, during a friendly conversation, one of my Caucasian friends mentioned how he did not understand the reason why the Korean people prayed out loud all at the same time (통성기도; Tong-Sung Prayer). It was a legitimate question for him since he was not as familiar with the Korean cultural leanings of holding onto the traditional aspects of life more so than conducting life actions, if you will, for functional purposes. He came from a western culture that emphasizes individual function and could not see the purpose of praying out loud all at once. For a Korean, it is more of a tradition and I assume it emphasizes the unity of the praying body (I also think it is in line with the emotional expression of ‘Han’ (‘한’) which is a difficult emotion to express in any other language or culture). Less apparent than such cultural differences are cultural gaps that lie between two different generations of the same race. It is less apparent but not so dissimilar to the aforementioned example of my friend’s difficulty in understanding the Korean style of prayer. The generational gap that was discussed in the two previous posts (Part 1, Part 2), are not just a result of difference in language. Cultures change through generations, arguably more so for immigrant cultures, and misunderstandings and surprise arise even within the same family members when we fail to acknowledge this change (sometimes the clash arises even with the acknowledgement but that is for the next post).

The typical second generation Asian-American, in their upbringing and education, has been more immersed in the individualized western perspective and culture, while the typical first generation Asian immigrant remain in their original culture even if they have lived in America for over a decade due to their refusal, for whatever reason, to assimilate into American culture (look at any Chinatowns in America). The gap then becomes apparent when we move past the sameness of our skin and analyze the actual cultural forces that have nurtured our worldviews. It would be beneficial to first understand the difference in cultural perspectives. One example that helps us understand this difference lies in the realm of choosing our vocation. The second generation Asian-American, I believe, would largely follow the wider American culture and use the mantra of “follow your passions” or “do what you like/enjoy” in thinking about choosing a vocation. The immigrant generation (note this based on anecdotal evidence) would generally find the ‘follow your passions’ sentiment not as determinative in discovering a vocation. For the older generations, the order is flipped, one chooses a vocation and then can begin to like it (Of course, they are not as naive to say that this always occurs, but this is the perspective out of which they think). Then, can this gap between generations be bridged by a mutual understanding of each others culture (i.e. an increase in knowledge of the other’s culture or perspective)? Yes, but only in part.

We can bridge it more fully if we begin to understand that this difference has a moral foundation and justification. Behind the affinity of western cultures for individualism and eastern cultures for social identity are underlining moral justifications, if you will. When the son in the initial dialogue (from part 1) was touting individual passion as the primary reason for pursuing Broadway acting, he was ascribing to it a value. In essence, he was saying fulfilling his passion was the most important criterion to fulfill when it comes to the topic of career. On the other hand, the father saw most value in the image that higher education presents to society and to him that was all important. The cultural gap is difficult to bridge because of these basic underlying preconceived notions of value (i.e. morals). But even with the acknowledgment of underlying value (and I must add for the Christian reader, neither Western individualism nor Eastern traditionalism is necessarily biblical), it may not be enough to bridge the generational gap. It may bring us closer, but there is one question that remains keeping the gap unbridged: ‘Whose notion of value is correct?’

The answering of that question to be continued….

Generational Gap – Part 2: The Linguistic Leap

Obama will be president for the next four years, and as the politicians hopefully strive to bridge the partisan gap, we continue with bridging the generation gap (Part 1 here). Well, what is the generation gap? Is it a linguistic divide? Or is it a cultural divide? In the summer of 2003 when I was interning at a physical therapist’s office, I had been motivated to follow my heart and passions after reading Wild At Heart by John Eldredge (which I don’t recommend). Then I mustered up the courage to write a letter to my parents explaining my intentions to put aside physical therapy as a career and follow my dream of trying out for soccer teams and striving to become a professional soccer player. My father responded in one of our conversations with a startling question, “What good will you do for other people as a soccer player?”

I paused…. and the best answer I could come up with was, “I’ll give joy to people who watch me play.” My statement was true, if I were to be a soccer player, spectators would be entertained, whether they cheer or jeer, nevertheless entertained. But my father was unconvinced and rightly so, because my answer was not my primary motivating reason but rather a statement to justify my actions. But even in my false justification, I was still frustrated. I was frustrated that my father was not understanding me and my desires. Was it because of a gap in language? It couldn’t have been. My dad was perfectly able, maybe not 100% fluent, in English. The words I used, he understood their meaning, and vice versa, the definitions of the words he used, I understood. Some say the generation gap can be bridged through the gaining of linguistic skills. If one generation makes the effort to learn the primary language of the other, then this would increase quantity and quality of communication. There is validity in such a claim, as I have friends who would highly benefit in their relationships with their parents if they were fluent in the Korean or Chinese language.

But in attempting to narrow this language gap, one must be mindful that the gap is not merely narrowed by the filling of letters, words and sentences. Language at the core is a tool of meaning. It’s function is to convey and receive meaning, and thus, can be distinguished in that way. One can say “Shoot!” and intend to convey the meaning of ‘Darn! I messed up!’ but if that person says the word while situated in a football pitch, then the received meaning could be ‘Kick the ball!’ But not only is the situational context important for the transference of meaning, so also is the cultural context.

‘Lost in translation’ is a common phrase because it is highly likely at times to have words change meaning when they enter into a different cultural context. But what is interesting that David Hollenbach, a Jesuit ethicist, points out to us, in The Common Good & Christian Ethics, is that language is inextricably tied to the common good of the community and our individualistic expression is actually not very individualistic at all. He says using the work of Charles Taylor:

Every act of speaking, of course, communicates a specific message with a particular meaning. Cultures do not speak; people do. And when people speak, they do not communicate whole languages but specific meanings. But actually communicating any meaning at all would be impossible unless both the speaker and the hearer already shared knowledge of a common language…

The social good of the language and the individual good of speaking are internally connected. They are aspects or dimensions of each other. What is common and what is individual are both required in any successful communication. The common and the individual mutually interpenetrate and mutually determine each other. This suggests, more generally, how the common good and the good of an individual person can be mutually determining in a similar way.

Hollenbach reminds us that to write, read, speak, listen is not an individual endeavor. Embedded in the structure of language is the sense of ‘for another’. So then, for those who are not willing to learn the language of our parents’ generation, before the question “Why is it so hard to communicate with them?” is asked, one must inquire of oneself “Do I not care enough about my parents that I have no willingness to learn their language? To convey and receive meaning for them?” Many times the frank answer will be, “Yeah, I don’t care enough.” And this further enlightens us to the ethos of our generational culture and how different it is from previous generations. The difference in cultures between generations goes far deeper than the difference in languages, thus leaving us with another aspect of the generational gap: the cultural clash.

But that… to be continued in the next post.

Generational Gap – Part 1: Introduction

If there is a word that you can use in moments that urge you to impress your surrounding company, one such word is tertium quid. It is Latin for the “third kind.” When I first heard the word spoken by Dr Trueman, with his mesmerizing English accent, I had a self-reflective moment so deep I had forgotten to which context he was using that phrase. Most Asians in America (and possibly elsewhere) place themselves into roughly two categories. If you were born and raised in America, then most people see you as Asian-American (or American-Asian, whichever you prefer). If you immigrated at a later stage in life to the western hemisphere, then you most likely see yourself as Korean, Chinese, Japanese, etc., at least in terms of how people identify your country of origin (or course, this precludes ignorant Americans who constitute hair and skin color as a marker for nationality). In reference to these two categories, I and most of my high school friends were of a tertium quid. When in the States, I was seen as a Korean (or a fob, ‘fresh-off-the-boat’); when in Korea, I was seen as a foreigner. And as much as this indirect exclusion confused my childhood mind and emotion, I have more than come to grips, but have now embraced my identity as one stuck in the middle, to put is positively, ‘the bridger of gaps’.

As one who has traversed both the culture of the East and West with relative but not complete understanding, one issue that seems to arise in various contexts is the gap between the immigrant generation and the generation immediately afterward. The generation gap, as it is often described, is a phrase popularized in the 1960′s in description of the emerging Baby Boomers. It was generally used to explain away the difficulties of understanding the between generations. But why did (or do) such difficulties exist? Possibly it is in understanding the differences between the two. Possibly there is more. But before we get into the details in the following posts, I leave you, hopefully as food-for-thought, with a hypothetical and rather stereotyped, yet still helpful, depiction of misunderstanding between immigrant generations and their children.

Father: Congratulations on graduating from an Ivy League school, son. Have you thought about what discipline you will continue to study?
Son: Thanks, dad. Umm… about that. I’ve been thinking some and I’m not sure I want to get further schooling.
Father: What? What do you mean? What will you do?
Son: Ummm… (nervously hesitant) I was thinking I could go to New York and try to make it as a Broadway actor.
Father: Broadway actor?? What about your education? You can’t let your Ivy League education go to waste.
Son: I’m sure it’ll help me somehow along the way, but dad, listen, this is my passion. I really want to do this.
Father: (with a very concerned expression) Son, you don’t live in this world alone. You should listen to what I say and apply for graduate school. I’m older and wiser so I know what you need.
Son: Dad… (shoulders sinking from frustration) but that’s not what I have a passion for.
Father: (sternly) If you do this Broadway thing, you are on your own. I cannot support this choice.

And the rest I leave to your imagination.

(To be continued in Part 2: The Linguistic Leap)

Do You Need Friends?

In a January 2010 interview by “Ministry and Theology (목회와 신학)“, when asked about what advice he could give to young future leaders of the Korean church, my father replied with the obvious striving for Word-centered ministry and a bit less obvious ‘common sense’, but then he added, to my refreshment, in his answer: Friends.

한평생 적어도 다섯 명의 가까운 친구를 사귀어라. 지금 당신들이 20~30대인데 30년 후에 만나도 ‘야, 너 잘 있었어?’ 이렇게 말 할수 있는 관계, 목회에 관해서 자기 아내한테도 말 못할 사정을 서로 허심탄회하게 이야기할수 있는 관계, 그리고 급할 때 도움받을 수 있는 이런 관계를 지속할수 있는 다섯 사람의 친구 목회자를 사귀어라. 그러면 한평생 외롭지 않게 목회를 할 수 있다. [Translation: At least make five close friends in your life. Right now you are 20's and 30's, but make at least five friends in ministry, who 30 years from now, you can meet and say dispensing formalities, 'Yo, how you doing?', or who you can shamelessly and honestly speak about ministry issues, or who you can call for help in cases of emergency. If you do, you can live a life in ministry without loneliness.]

To such wisdom, I dare add a couple of things. One, to make close friends of different pursuits. Variegation adds freshness to ones life, but not only that, it provides perspectives that are instructive. Most people have a tendency to flock towards people similar to them, but such can lead to stagnation of character. Not to say that self-improvement is the end goal of friends but the effect of friends is that they enrich ones life, and they do so not only by the enjoyment of one another but through the different perspectives they bring to the table. As Richard Lamb says even of seeking Christian friends in The Pursuit of God in the Company of Friends,

I need different people in my life, not just others who love God, but also people who love him differently than I do. I need people who relate to God as seekers and stumblers, skeptics and believers, leaders and followers, radicals and loyalists. And when I attend my small group and think (as I often do), “These people aren’t like me,” I need to follow up that reflex with a response not quite so reflexive: “Thank God they aren’t!”

Secondly, apart from the five close friends, to continue to make new friends in your life. Most people at a certain point in their life, usually at the age of 30, stop meeting new people and focus their time and energy on those they already know. Alex Williams writes in his NY Times column titled “Friends of a Certain Age“, how difficult it gets making new close friends after a certain age possibly due to the difficulties of fulfilling the three sociological criteria: proximity, repeated spontaneity, and settings of vulnerability,

In studies of peer groups, Laura L. Carstensen, a psychology professor who is the director of the Stanford Center on Longevity in California, observed that people tended to interact with fewer people as they moved toward midlife, but that they grew closer to the friends they already had.

Basically, she suggests, this is because people have an internal alarm clock that goes off at big life events, like turning 30. It reminds them that time horizons are shrinking, so it is a point to pull back on exploration and concentrate on the here and now. “You tend to focus on what is most emotionally important to you,” she said, “so you’re not interested in going to that cocktail party, you’re interested in spending time with your kids.”

As external conditions change, it becomes tougher to meet the three conditions that sociologists since the 1950s have considered crucial to making close friends: proximity; repeated, unplanned interactions; and a setting that encourages people to let their guard down and confide in each other, said Rebecca G. Adams, a professor of sociology and gerontology at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. This is why so many people meet their lifelong friends in college, she added.

But thirdly, there has to be a disclaimer of sorts in our day and age. The wonder of the internet and introduction of social media into our relationships have hazed our sense of proximity. In the opinion column of The Chronicle of Higher Education titled “Faux Friendship“, William Deresiewicz comments that we have mistaken true proximity and intimacy with our friends by replacing it with the brightness of our computer screens,

And so we return to Facebook. With the social-networking sites of the new century—Friendster and MySpace were launched in 2003, Facebook in 2004—the friendship circle has expanded to engulf the whole of the social world, and in so doing, destroyed both its own nature and that of the individual friendship itself. Facebook’s very premise—and promise—is that it makes our friendship circles visible. There they are, my friends, all in the same place. Except, of course, they’re not in the same place, or, rather, they’re not my friends. They’re simulacra of my friends, little dehydrated packets of images and information, no more my friends than a set of baseball cards is the New York Mets.

Of course, in all this discussion of age and friendship, we must remember that whether you are 20 years old or 50 years old, friendship is not something that can be found like treasure buried on a stranded island. CS Lewis says in The Four Loves, “

That is why those pathetic people who simply “want friends” can never make any. The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends….

Friendship arises out of mere Companionship when two or more of the companions discover that they have in common some insight or interest or even taste which the others do not share and which, till that moment, each believed to be his own unique treasure (or burden). The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one.”

It is when two or more people traveling side by side discover a deep similar interest or excitement that friendship is sparked, but this only, I want to add, is a very Western perspective, and if not Western, merely a comfortable perspective on friendship. As I have seen how my father has made life-long, close friends (probably more than five), I have learned that you must be a good friend before desiring to have friends at all. One of his dear friends, my confirmation pastor, Rev. Jung-Gil Hong, tells an anecdote about how he is where he is because of his friends,

CCC 사역에 집중했고, 전도하는 것이 무엇보다 소중하다 여겼던 그 시절, 학교 수업은 뒤로 한 태 노트 필기하나 변변히 못하고 있다가 시험이 닥치면 문인현 목사님 댁에 몰려가 숙식을 함께 하며 시험공부를 했었죠. 그러다 독자인 문인현 목사님이 결혼하게 되자 신혼집에 몰려가 공부할 수는 없다 해서 옮긴 집이 박형용 목사님 댁이었습니다. 신학교 3년의 학점을 채울 수 있었던 데에는 박 목사님 댁에서의 시간들이 결정적인 역할을 한 것 같습니다.

그렇게 학교를 졸업하고 목사의 직분을 받는다는 것이 너무 버거워 강도사 시험 준비를 전혀 하지 않고 있었습니다. 언제나 지도력을 발휘했던 박형용 목사님은 저를 공부시키기 위해 한달에 몇 번 같이 모여 공부하자고 제안했고, 동기들 중 늘 교제를 나누었던 문이현, 서춘웅, 천성덕 목사님 등 몇 사람이 밤을 새며 공부를 했습니다. 그러나 정작 저를 위한 일이었음에도 학생 전도에 온 힘을 쏟던 때라 그 귀한 시간에 단 한 번도 참여를 못했습니다. 공부를 안 했으니 강도사 시험을 포기하려고 했는데, 친구들이 일단 논문부터 쓰라고 자신들이 모아 놓은 자료를 주어 간신히 논문을 제출할 수 있었습니다. 좋은 자료를 바탕으로 쓴 논문이라 어렵지 않게 논문이 통과되었습니다…

To paraphrase, the reason Rev. Hong was able to pass the licensure exam and eventually the ordination exam to become a reverend was through the intentional help, support, and sacrifice of his friends. In addition to these stories, in their respective speeches for each other’s retirement ceremonies Rev. Hong and my father took friendly jabs by referring to the other with all formalities aside (this is no small thing in Korean culture). At 60~70 years of age, they still comfortably and endearingly refer to each other as they used to do when they were in their 20′s. Such, I believe, is a good picture of a life-long friend. Though I hope to have that one day, in the present day, to my friends, I hope I am on the path to becoming such a friend.

Silently Into the Night…

Six days after July 4th, I am reminded of the famous line in the 1996 Will Smith movie Independence Day:

We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!

Most likely taken from the well-known poem by Dylan Thomas, “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night“, these motivating words move us to strive, fight, to press on towards success of whatever endeavor lies before us. They convince us not to become the prey in this world of Darwinian economics. We are moved when the imagination of victory and success seems to possibly materialize into reality.

But where there are winners, there are losers. Where there are predators, there are prey. Where there are the fittest, there lies under their feet, the unfit. But between these two poles of meritocracy exists another group of people. The forgotten group: the ordinary. Alina Tugend writes in her NY Times column titled, “Redefining Success and Celebrating the Ordinary” about how America and American parents have forgotten to appreciate the ordinary that they are anxious their children will not be stellar and Tugend wonders if, “there is any room for the ordinary any more, for the child or teenager — or adult — who enjoys a pickup basketball game but is far from Olympic material, who will be a good citizen but won’t set the world on fire.”

I do not think we should ignore the words of Dylan Thomas or President Whitmore of “Independence Day” on account of saving the ordinary. The drive for success in it of itself is not a bad thing. But Tugend’s argument does shed light on the importance of where this drive for success originates. She hints that modern America see success only in the frame work of monetary gain or increase of fame. What is needed instead, I suspect, are people who value the ‘artistry’ of each career or skill. To see the value and beauty of the athlete, the scholar, the social worker, the scientist, the politician, the financial analyst without considering financial gain or reputation in its valuation. Of course, this is unrealistically ideal. But maybe that’s the point, that this world is an imperfect form of something else. That there awaits a world where the ordinary of this world becomes extraordinary, in CS Lewis’ words:

…a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship.

What Christianity Can Learn from Confucianism

If one of my professors read the above title, I believe I would be in for a world of correction. Just to be clear, I do still affirm that all knowledge is borrowed knowledge from divine Triune revelation. Now moving from the philosophical to the practical, there is much Confucianism can teach Christianity. One such lesson is this: Youth can be absent-mindedly tyrannical.

For those who are unfamiliar with Confucianism, here is a crash course. Proper relationships and conduct between them leads to order and peace, the five main relationships being: Ruler-Ruled, Father-Son, Husband-Wife, Elder Brother-Younger Brother, and Friend-Friend. Within these relationships, there is a certain etiquette that is expected. One commonly known, and known with some-level of aversion by second-generation Asians, is respect for the elderly. There are instances that this ‘respect’ is abused between people who are merely a year or two apart, or the culture itself becomes oppressive to the younger, but I have noticed that a culture without this tradition, namely Western culture, can be oppressive to the elderly.

To illustrate, an anecdote from the soccer stadium. Few elderly people were sitting at the soccer stadium desiring to enjoy the game, but to their surprise, when the kick-off took place people in the rows in front of them watched the game on their feet. The elderly had to shout, “Let’s sit! Let’s sit and watch!” without wanting to acknowledge that his physique was unable to handle an entire game standing. The people in the front rows had no malice, but neither did they have any sense of relational consideration. The mindset of ‘I want to enjoy this game however I want to’ overpowered any thought of those behind them. This silent inconsiderate demeanor of individualism screamed to the elderly, “If you want to watch, you stand on  your feeble legs too!” It was tryannical.

This tyranny of youth also occurs in Christianity, particularly relevant to second generation Korean Christianity. Any potential wisdom of the first generation is foolishly declared parochial, oppressive, or irrelevant. There are youngsters seeking guidance and wisdom from those who have only live half a decade longer than themselves. There is a vast lack of experiential wisdom, a wisdom that has been exiled by Western Christian individualism. To be clear, this is not a vote to adopt Confucian views in Christianity, but rather, to realize some of the communal considerations that Christianity has lent to other perspectives. And to admit, first, that our individualism can be tyrannical to the weaker elderly, and second, that there is much to learn from the weak and old, if we would only be willing to listen.