Compassion in action

In my daily meanderings across the internet, I came across this article. A Chinese woman, working as a doctor in prisons, saw the need for prisoners' children to have a safe place to go, since often they were rejected by family members for being tainted by their parents' crimes. The article quotes a saying of Chairman Mao- "a son of a hero is a hero, a child of a bad egg is a bad egg". This is another example of what I learned about Chinese culture when I was there 3 years ago- that family connections are very important, and there isn't the same sense of individualism that some Western cultures have. One person can disgrace their family, and the other members are seen as 'bad' too. Anyway, this Chinese woman has started four homes for prisoners' children. She runs them with minimal staff, because she relies mostly on small foreign donations, and mostly the older children watch out for the younger children. Some kids come from the street, some from living in prison with their parents, some from relatives who don't want them anymore. The doctor, Zhang Shuqin, tries to build up their self-esteem and tell them that they are not bad because their parents have done something bad. The article makes no mention of any religious motivation for her, just that she has compassion on people who desperately need it- prisoners and their children. As someone who spends much more time thinking or talking about compassion than actually practicing it, this woman is an incredible example of compassion in action.

PS- I'm not posting anything on my lack of blogging for the past 3 months (!) because it's pretty much a laundry list of the usual excuse- too busy. Until May I was 'too busy' with school, and in June I've been 'too busy' doing all the stuff I didn't have time to do during the school year (read: optional, fun stuff like reading an entire novel in one sitting). Guess I have an excuse for every occasion! :-)

First hint of spring

 

Central Park, March 2006 

HH and I at the Cathedral

 

Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York City 

New York #1

It's spring break, and HH and I are on vacation in New York City. We wanted to have a real travel experience, to someplace we'd never been, that still would be reasonably in budget. NYC has enough history to keep me happy, and enough technology and fun stuff to keep HH happy, and so far we're having a great time! Our feet, however, are not having such a great time, since we've walked like 15 miles so far (at least it feels like it).
I'm not going to recount all the things we've done and make this a travel diary, rather, there are some experiences I want to think through and get down on paper... er, blog. On Sunday, our first full day here, we headed out to first learn the subway system and then go straight to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I really wanted to see that because I love cathedrals, and also because one of my favorite authors, Madeleine L'Engle, was Writer-in-Residence here and mentions it in several of her books. We got there around 11, just in time for one of the morning services. So after looking around the outside a bit, we went in and listened to the service, which (as usual) made me ponder some stuff about faith in God and the way we express it.
I mentioned that I love cathedrals- every time I have the chance, I love to go into them and walk quietly around. There's something about the soaring pillars and arched ceilings, the royal colors of stained glass- blues, reds, yellows, the echoes and the quiet, that deeply resonates with me. It's so different than the churches I've grown up with, which are utilitarian buildings with minimal decoration. A cathedral's beauty seems to echo something of the majesty and glory of God- the solemn glory, the honor and reverence. The service on Sunday contained more of that reverence- there were many responsive readings, the recitation of the Nicene Creed and Agnus Dei, the cantor singing out in a beautiful monotone- formal words like:
It is right, and a good and joyful thing, always and everywhere
To give thanks to You, Father Almighty,
Creator of Heaven and Earth.
The rub, however, came with the sermon. As expected, it was a modern theological mismash that included some main point about how Jesus' sinlessness was in the sense that He chose to stay in contact with God, and that we don't sin when we choose to stay in contact with God. (I also realized that, sadly, a cathedral's accoustics are great for music but bad for a speaker- the echoes made it hard to understand him). This is High Episcopal, the denomination that is currently accepting gay priests, women priests, doesn't hold to the veracity of the Bible, etc. So my conflicted feelings came basically from this- here is beauty with bad theology; my church has true theology and accessibility without the reverence and beauty. I know how, for almost two thousand years, the beauty and reverence of high churches have turned to ritual and disconnected-ness from God; but when a person knows God, the high church service focuses on His majesty and glory- something that's harder to remember when church is an ordinary building with ordinary words. I guess the heart of the matter is that I wish there was a way to combine the two- a beautiful building, full of majesty and reverence, coupled with the joy and freedom and theology of my evangelical church's service.
I know that's not going to happen any time soon, I just wanted to acknowledge why I feel so torn about the matter whenever I see a cathedral...

If you have done it to the least of these...

I heard last week that Bono spoke at the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington, DC, but I didn't give it more than a passing thought (other than, 'hm, that's an odd choice for a speaker- would've thought that Dobson would be more likely'). Today, though, I ran across a transcript of his remarks and was very impressed. I don't know where Bono stands on issues of theology- salvation, faith, the deity of Jesus- all the things that I was taught, especially in college, are the most important in life. But he does have an amazing compassion for the poor, especially for someone as wealthy as he is. I think that as much as Jesus focused on the poor, we Christians need to have a focus more like this.

Argh! I'm such a horrible post-er! (Didn't seem quite right not to hypenate that or I'd sound like a piece of wall art). I'm around, really I am, but it's so much easier just to read other people's work than to put out my own. Although, dear reader, if you're in the mood for web-browsing too, here are some of the random readings I've been doing lately:

Chromasia- a photo-blog my husband showed me. Check out the Portraiture- Children gallery especially.

Makoto Fujimura- World Magazine's Daniel of the Year (for bringing biblical values into the secular marketplace). His Water Flames paintings look amazing- I wish there was a better gallery online.

East Coast Counselor- this woman pours her heart into one of the most difficult jobs around, working with mentally unstable adults.

Freewheeling Bike Tours- completely out of the question financially, but so much fun to dream about!

Angela's Ashes- as usual, I'm discovering a good bestseller about 5 years too late. Very well written, with a great sense of ironic humor cutting through the aching sadness of circumstances.

NYC Tourism- with our spring break trip coming up, the biggest problem will be deciding what to see- so much great stuff!

You can see why I'm too distracted to post. :-)

Besides being a great dad...

...my father, this past Sunday, finished this. Yay, Dad! It's his 5th race and he had a personal best time of 3:48. I sat near the finish line and cheered him when he came by, thus getting an eyeful of the thousands of other people also finishing a 26.2 mile run. My conscience, meanwhile, mocked me with the realization that I was in the midst of thousands of people in better shape than I am. My conscience is unfortunately still and quiet anytime I think about going out to exercise, though. And when it goes quiet, the couch and the chair and the fridge send out faint melodic trills designed to lure me to them.

I need to drown them out with the sobering thought that my dad is 56 and just finished another marathon. I'm 25 and can't finish a run around the block. Sigh. I have so many good intentions right now that they're almost overpowering those little melodic trills. Almost.