View from Amtrak train, northbound

Entering Eden

This is the view when driving onto the campus of Eden Seminary in Webster Groves...

Reminds me of Malaysia

July 3rd Thunderstorm

"The Bare Arms of Trees" by John Tagliabue

Sometimes when I see the bare arms of trees in the evening
I think of men who have died without love,
of desolation and space between branch and branch,
I think of immovable whiteness and lean coldness and fear
and the terrible longing between people stretched apart as these branches
and the cold space between.
I think of the vastness and courage between this step and that step
of the yearning and fear of the meeting, of the terrible desire held apart.
I think of the ocean of longing that moves between land and land
and between people, the space and ocean.
The bare arms of the trees are immovable, without the play of leaves, without the sound of wind;
I think of the unseen love and the unknown thoughts that exist between tree and tree
as I pass these things in the evenings, as I walk.

The Map Room

In terms of cafes, reading rooms, and hang-outs, the Map Room is the GREATEST find this side of 2011. I highly recommend it. The sister and I arrived at 7:30ish (it opens at 5m) which was the perfect time b/c we beat the crowd. We had the whole place to ourselves and I was able to snap some photos. For drinks, we ordered the cranberry-orange sangria and the roasted hazelnut latte (creamy, delicious froth over medium roast, not too sweet). We also ordered tiramisu and raspberry cheesecake (How could we not?! The Map Room is all about pastries, beverages, and ambiance!).  An added bonus is the fact that the Map has a green mission. This coffeehouse truly commits to sustainability.


The Map Room
1901 Withnell Ave.
St. Louis, MO
314-776-3515

Read the RFT review about the Map Room here.

First Winter in Saint Louis

Early spring in winter...

Signs of green in the midst of snow.

I live across the street from this snowy field.

Project 2011: A 3-month Update

 

This being the 1st of April, I provide here an update on Project 2011. Some success, albeit gradual and minuscule in comparison to the strength of my desire to move much more quickly (at the speed of the universe). 

My grand plan to read, contemplate, and comment on Bishop Schnase's book:

Successfully finished reading Chapter 1 on the practice of Radical Hospitality, as well as Chapter 2 on Passionate Worship. I am proceeding through Chapter e to engage Bishop Schnase's thoughts on Intentional Faith Development. I hope to post my synopsis/outline and thoughts on ch. 1 soon and very soon. 

My grand plan to visit 11 congregations in 2011:  

Up until today, I have visited 7 churches. 

1 UMC - contemporary worship (Webster Hills UMC)

1 Episcopal - Rite 1 (Christ Church Cathedral)

2 UMC - traditional (Grace UMC & Kirkwood UMC)

1 UMC - traditional (Lafayette Park UMC)

1 Community church - contemporary (Metropolitan Community Church of Greater St. Louis)

1 UCC - traditional (Good Shepherd Church of Christ [no website that I could find])

Several notes:

* The selection process was based on synchronicity and opportunity, with no rhyme or reason for why these churches or why not other churches. I am slightly disappointed to see in the list very little diversity, and the list flagrantly reveals my appalling lack of intentionality and focus (so far). I hope to rectify that in the near future. 

* I only attended the worship service at their publicized worship times; I did not attend small groups, Bible Study sessions, or social gatherings, and if I did, I will only focus my comments (for this Project) on the service I attended. If the service was supposed to be at 7pm, then I attended that service. For example, if the contemporary was scheduled for 8:30am, I attended that service and not the traditional service that followed.

* I realize that a visitor's first impression of a church is often an unfavorable impression because it is a one-time meeting between strangers (are we strangers in a house of worship?). I am also aware that most, if not all, faith communities need the favor of a second, third, if not fourth, visit by a guest in order for that guest to truly recognize/appreciate & understand the dynamics, relationships, and peculiarities of that community.

* The previous note leads me to this last note... Although I recognize that I may be unfairly evaluating a particular church based upon my preliminary visit, this Project is, afterall, all about (unofficially) documenting my first-time experience of visiting a church. I'm not doing anything new, and I know that there are plenty of books and research on congregational studies. On this blog, I'm merely writing my thoughts about my own experiences, and thinking that perhaps you (gentle reader, ha ha) might sympathize or empathize with something of note.

More forthcoming...

Project 2011: the Germ

One Sunday, my sister and I decided to visit a congregation that we had never visited before. Not unlike many others in this city, I think, instead of going to the one nearby, we Googled to find a church somewhere in STL that had morning services, and a contemporary one at that, and we ventured forth.

On the drive to the church, I was pretty excited; it had been several years since I last attended a contemporary service. This was a chance for something new. We found the church building easily and pulled into the parking lot, only to discover we mismanaged our time and were about 5-10 minutes late. We walked into the main worship space in the contemporary services building, thinking we could probably meet an usher who can direct us to some available seats, and found everyone standing and weakly singing along with the praise team. No one greeted us, although some folks did turn around to look at the new guests. There were no seats -- and if you've visited churches anytime in the last century, of any denomination, you'll understand what I mean. Everyone was seated in the back, like they filled the back rows first, trying to stay away from the "stage" as much as possible. Not one person moved to offer us a seat. Not one person said a word to us. I noticed the sound person sitting in the back, very busy managing the sound system. I noticed the ladies by the table of coffee and pastries, busily overseeing the food and beverages (which at that time was not being served to anyone). I noticed that there were lots of furtive glances in our direction, but no movement in response to seeing two strangers standing behind the last row of chairs looking for seats.

Perhaps we looked more than just a bit perplexed, so after a pregnant pause, the pastor (at that time I did not know he was the pastor) approached us and handed us some bulletins. He then motioned for us to follow him towards the center aisle, and proceeded to walk towards the row directly in front of the stage  -- where only one woman was sitting.I remember seeing on the carpeted floor the shadow of her head and shoulders projected by the light from the back. (The congregation still singing.)

I'm going to pause to take a poll here... How many visitors to unfamiliar houses of worship would be comfortable and willing to be escorted to a seat in the front row where 99.9% of the congregation was avoiding? Would you say about 1 out of 9 people might do that? I am a PK, and as such, am familiar with the routine of sitting up front and center. For a large portion of my childhood, I was enthroned in the 1st or 2nd row of the sanctuary because that was the place where I wanted to be seated. I don't ordinarily shy away from being up front. However, on that day, I was furious not because I was invited to sit up front, but because the congregants refused to budge. I'd be willing to bet that, if found in the same situation, they themselves would not want to be escorted to the front row. And it did not feel like a designated seat of honor.

I did not follow the pastor to the center aisle and he ended up walking by himself all the way up to the front row and motioned for us to come forward. I was not amused because by this time, everyone was looking at us -- even the praise team -- while they were singing praise songs. Busily worshiping God.

Never in my life had I felt so frustrated, and so angry. The whole situation created in me a sense of marginalization, a feeling of being out of place. It was uncomfortable, disconcerting, and alienating. Inhospitable. No doubt that congregation was very surprised to see us because we were the only two Asian Americans in the whole building. I have never been so put out by such a "welcome" inside a place of worship.

I'm blogging this from a less than positive space because the experience remains a difficult experience for me. Nevertheless, I understand, I know, that everyone was just worried about performing their proper roles in church on that Sunday morning -- I am quite familiar with that strong and rigid sense of duty. This is me we're talking about -- the 10-year-old PK who traipsed about the church in flouncy flower dresses, toting her own meticulously underlined, highlighted, and bookmarked Bible, all the while directing "the kids" to behave "properly" in church on Sunday mornings.

I understand that often it appears like we can't deviate from our assigned duties. Everyone has a role to play: the ladies must oversee the breakfast goods, and the sound tech has to oversee the sound system, and the parishioners have to stand still and sing; the greeters only greet people until 10 minutes after service begins and then you have to close the church doors; ushers stand quietly to one side to distribute bulletins until the start of the service and then disappear.

I get that feeling -- the concern that you're doing something wrong or out of place if you don't do strictly as you've been told. You don't want to be the person noisily greeting latecomers (and God forbid that there should be any latecomers b/c they make everyone shuffle around in the pews). You don't want to be the person walking around, in front of, or behind someone else and disturbing them as they are singing a praise song. You don't want to be the person shuffling your purse, your coat, your scarf, your hymnal, your Bible, your bulletin, and your little white offering envelope, and creating so much noise with your flurry of activities.

I get it. It's hard to step out of our Sunday morning roles. (Isn't it already hard to step into our Sunday morning roles?) However, I think it is even more difficult to step into the real role we have to own each day -- the role of the Christian disciple who extends to newcomers Christ's invitation to join God's family. Bishop Schnase has stated very eloquently (in my opinion) something that we all know: "Hospitality is a quality of spiritual initiative, the practice of an active and genuine love, a graciousness unaffected by self-interest, an opening of ourselves and our faith community to receive others" (20). To open ourselves up to the challenge of radical hospitality, we have to let go of what we think we're supposed to do (which is, unfortunately, often
narrowly defined or restricted by custom, practice, history). The word "radical," cites Bishop Schnase, "means 'drastically different from ordinary practice, outside the normal', and so it provokes practices that exceed expectations, that go the second mile, that take welcoming the stranger to the max" (21).

At the end of the worship service, our pew neighbor -- the woman sitting next to us during the service -- disappeared even before we could turn around to grab our coats. The pastor was busy talking to a member of the congregation (or someone who appeared quite familiar with the church family). The praise team was busy putting away their musical instruments. Children were busy playing like children. No one said a word to us as we picked up our bags and put on our coats. Not one usher or greeter came to get our names or contact information or to simply say hello. I looked around to see if anyone would make eye contact with me, but did so half-heartedly. The whole experience had worn me out and I was tired of extending the invitation -- me, the visitor, the guest, the newcomer.

So, I walked out of that sanctuary, muttering under my breath. Then I got in the car and started hatching a plan...

Project 2011: Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations

If you're just tuning into nothing but HAT's, then you should know that Project 2011 is my crazy, boring project hatched during a long, tiring car ride home from a Sunday morning church service in which I bemoaned my fate as yet one more Methodist utterly disenchanted with and frustrated by the worship experience I just recently endured. If you want the explanation from the beginning, then click on the tag at the bottom of this post (tag: Project 2011). Or, click on the keywords found in the cloud on the left-side navigation bar.

The book I'm currently reading is Bishop Robert Schnase's Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations. There is an entire website that you should browse -- and note that the book Five Practices for Fruitful Living is available, too.

Bishop Schnase writes about five essential practices that congregations exhibit, focus on, development, and implement. These practices as described by the Bishop (among other life experiences) have been the lens through which I interpret and understand my visits to various congregations in the greater STL area.

The five practices are:

1. Radical Hospitality
2. Passionate Worship
3. Intentional Faith Development
4. Risk-Taking Mission and Service
5. Extravagant Generosity

As you can expect, Bishop Schnase's website offers brief paragraph synopses of his main thoughts about each practice. However, I will also attempt to summarize, respond to, question, comment on, and deliberate over much of these chapters, and will post my thoughts periodically on this blog.

If you also have the opportunity (and inclination) to read this book, I would welcome your presence alongside my journey. Perhaps some of my readers (if only a few) might offer good insight and counsel as I trudge through Project 2011.

United Methodist Response to Japan Crisis Will Involve Church and Mission Partners

United Methodist Response to Japan Crisis Will Involve Church and Mission Partners

An excerpt:

"The United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR) is serving as the denomination's conduit for financial contributions. A request for an offering on March 20 is being made by the denomination's Council of Bishops. The Pacific Emergency Advance number is 3021317. One hundred percent of every Advance gift goes to the designated cause.

"Our emergency relief and long-term rehabilitation in Japan will involve our long-term mission partners with whom many of our missionaries and other mission personnel already work," said Thomas Kemper, general secretary of the General Board of Global Ministries, of which UMCOR is a part. "Japan is a highly developed nation, and we will depend heavily on our partners to help us focus our resources in areas of greatest need."

UMCOR is also investigating collaboration with Global Medic, an international organization with the capacity to provide emergency clean water in crisis situations.

All United Methodist mission personnel, missionaries, and volunteers were accounted for on the morning of March 13, but questions lingered over the possible implications of radiation from damaged nuclear reactors. Global Ministries gave all personnel permission to evacuate at their own choice. The agency has a total of almost 20 related professionals in Japan.

Virtually all United Methodist work in Japan relates to ecumenical partners, including the UCCJ, the Korean Christian Church in Japan, and the National Christian Council in Japan.

Reports from missionaries and mission partners continue to be received in an almost steady stream of email. Several reports indicate that new Wesley Center in Tokyo, related to United Methodist Women, was not damaged and is able to care for a group of now homeless people. However, the Asian Rural Institute, a major mission partner north of Tokyo, sustained considerable damage. Global Ministries uses the institution for the training of persons from Asia and Africa in sustainable agriculture.

The General Board of Global Ministries has received no requests from Japan for relief or other volunteers at this time."

"If You Feel Sorry" by Ted Kooser

Image courtesy of valentine-clipart.com

If you feel sorry for yourself
this Valentine's Day, think of
the dozens of little paper poppies
left in the box when the last
of the candy is gone, how they
must feel, dried out and brown
in their sad old heart-shaped box,
without so much as a single finger
to scrabble around in their
crinkled petals, not even
one pimpled nose to root and snort
through their delicate pot pourri.
So before you make too much
of being neglected, I want you
to think how they feel.



* From Valentines, poems by Ted Kooser, (c) 2008, U of Nebraska Press. Happy Valentine's Day to all my dearest.

Banh La Chan: Tet 2011

When Tet comes around, you must have Banh Tet or Banh Chung, but how many of you have had Banh La Chan? Banh la chan is a variation on the banh tet, and I oh so love it. Consider the deliciousness of the original cake: soft, yellow, buttery mung bean paste mixed with a morsel of pork (oh, the delicate balance between the meat and the fat!) nestled in a mold of glutinous rice so sticky that you have to lick your fingers clean. Now, add to that some tiny, oval quail eggs, and Vietnamese sausage, and you have heaven wrapped in banana leaves. Delicious! Banh la chan is originally from the northern parts of Viet Nam, with a history as rich and complex as the cake itself.

Home made Banh La Chan taste better than anything store-bought!

Project 2011: the Idea

For 2011, I will commit to visiting 11 churches (mostly in the STL area -- at least for the foreseeable future) and to blogging about my experiences as a guest of those faith communities, using Bishop Robert Schnase's book Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations as a lay-person's guide in this church-visiting adventure.

I have several motivations for initiating what I believe will be my most personally challenging and ambitious project up to this point in my life (challenging partially b/c I'm not sure I have the discipline to carry this through to the end -- but please help!):

1. The start of a new year is a good reason -- the best time to begin a new project is at the beginning of a calendar year, starting fresh.  
2. A solid, thought-provoking book is also positive inspiration for starting this project, and Bishop Schnase's book provides enough food for thought, and perhaps some of you are already familiar with this reading (perhaps at some point your congregation also read this resource?).
3. For far too long, and in too many different contexts, I have suffered under the strain of un-radical hospitality. In fact, since my recent move to Saint Louis, I've been reminded more and more often of the embarrassment, discomfort, and frustration of being a new visitor in an unfamiliar and seemingly unwelcoming congregation. I've found myself more often than not sitting quietly in church pews, remembering my graduate school days when I, being a car-less Methodist, walked to a quaint little Episcopal church on Sunday mornings, where for three whole years I was continuously asked if I were a first-time visitor (yes, all true, and I'm fairly certain I was the only Vietnamese American in the place). 

A recent experience of worshiping at a local congregation has -- motivated, provoked, inspired -- me to embark on this journey. After the worship service, putting aside my initial feelings -- strong as they were -- was difficult (nigh impossible), but perhaps better to channel my energy into doing something useful and fruitful and self-educating. I hope this will be an enriching experience for me -- and for you two or three readers who are still following nothing but hat's.

Why am I doing this? It's not simply because I have strong feelings and need a forum to gab about how much it sucks to be a stranger walking into a house of worship -- to be gawked at, prayed over, awkwardly greeted and then ignored in pietous silence. Ultimately, I want to explore and discover what it means to be a perpetual newcomer, to be a recognized as a welcomed visitor, to be challenged as as fellow disciple in our houses of worship, in our faith communities.

Let the journey begin...

Tet Tan Mao 2011: Year of the Cat

www.thiepdientu.net

The time has come for us to begin preparing for Tet Nguyen Dan... It is right around the corner: Feb. 3, 2011. To get started:

For the Vietnamese, 2011 is The Year of the Metal Cat: For more information, click here. (This is my dad's year.)

In Chinese, 2011 is The Year of the Golden Rabbit: For more information, click here.

Our dates for this year:  02/03/2011 - 01/22/2012 (Metal)

Feeling like a leaf

Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.


-Naomi Shihab Nye