What's Love Got To Do With It?

I often attend a small monthly philosophy group in Atlanta. The discussions are quite different from what I have with my friends during the rest of the month, because no other evangelical Christians ever attend this group (as best I can tell). For that matter, no other Christians of any discernable stripe attend, and the leader is a determinist who doesn't admit to believing in any God at all.

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It's good for me to be there, because it helps me think through my worldview and convictions and how I can explain them to someone who's approaching our discussion from a very different angle. Of course, I hope that the others will somehow be nudged toward Jesus by what I have to say.

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This week, we were discussing what makes for a good marriage relationship (or nonmarital partnership). One of the guys was claiming that the ideal relationship is one where:

• You live and let live.
• Tolerance reigns.
• Neither party demands anything of the other and neither changes anything to accommodate the other (neither one "compromises").

It's hard to summarize accurately what he was saying, because to me it seemed inconsistent and a bit incoherent, but it was clear that he didn't agree with my claim that the best relationship is one based on active love, commitment, deference, service, and sacrifice. His view seemed to be that each should do whatever he/she wants, with the goal of maximizing self-pleasure and minimizing self-pain. I commented that if two partners with that view ever actually agreed on something, it wouldn't be a relationship, but a coincidence.

I left there thinking how radically different our worldviews are, and when I got home, I took the dog for a walk and prayed, remarking to God how vitally different my life is because God made me His child. Certainly, I don't always practice what I claim to believe about good relationships, but it's my aspiration to do so, and I'm immensely thankful for the significant friendships God has given me over the years. I believe I'm a lot less lonely than the guys I was talking to last night.

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Of course, our Heavenly Father, Himself, is the best example of how to build good relationships (though it sounds weird to state it that way):

• "God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." (John 3.16)
• "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15.13)

God's extraordinary love gives all (or at least all we could ever imaginably need), and it demands all. When we understand what He's done, we gladly give all in return - first, as a sign of thanks, and then in confident expectation of even more demonstrations of His love for us. "We love because he first loved us" (1 John 4.19).

It's Official: Georgia is (Almost) the Worst

I like being able to drive at NASCAR-like speeds in my adopted state of Georgia, but overall I have little respect for my roadmates. I don't have to be on the road for long before I see swerving, wrong speeds (too slow/too fast for conditions), running red lights, stopping at flashing yellows, no headlights in the rain, not using turn signals...whatever signs of incompetence you can imagine, you get to see them every day on Atlanta's roads.

Now there's confirmation: it's not just my perception that drivers here are incompetent. GMAC Insurance has administered something called the National Drivers Test in all 50 states and DC. The test is designed to measure knowledge of basic driving laws, and Georgia ranks 47 out of 51. Only California, Hawaii, New Jersey, and New York score lower.

The state where I grew up and took driver's ed, Oregon, ties for 8th place, and that seems about right.

You can read more about the test results and see how your own state scored here.

And if you like, you can take the National Drivers Test, yourself, here.

I took the test. My score? 95%...and the one question they say I got wrong, I know is correct in some states. So I'll take a gentleman's 100%.

ITP

ITP: Inside the Perimeter, noun, adj., adv.: an abbreviation for "Inside the Perimeter," relating to the area inside Atlanta's I-285 loop highway. Contrasted with OTP, "Outside the Perimeter, which is all the area of Atlanta outside of I-285.

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ITP and OTP are much more than geographic descriptions. They divide states of mind and ways of being. ITP is urban and Democratic; OTP is suburban and Republican. Old money lives ITP; new money lives OTP. Gays and lawyers reside ITP; straights and corporate people will be found OTP. All the cool restaurants and coffee shops are ITP; it's hard to find anything other than chain restaurants and corporate coffee shops OTP. People ITP drive Smart cars or ride bikes or walk; people OTP drive SUVs or SUVs or SUVs. ITP couture is funky-cool; OTP couture is Polo-Macys.

Before attending my Emory class last night ("Wednesdays at Atlanta's Microbreweries"), I stopped by an ITP coffeehouse for some caffeine fortification, grabbed a table outside, and overheard a conversation that could only happen ITP. A youngish man (30?) talking with a similarly youngish woman, who seemed to be his counselor or therapist or life coach or Scientology leader or something. I only picked up snippets over the traffic noise of the busy intersection, but it went something like this:

He: "Yes, my parents . . . family . . . frustrated . . . Do I really want to start a relationship with a pot-smoking graduate student? But I do like him . . . he doesn't smoke that much . . . my dissertation . . . watching pornography and measuring . . . "

She: "An unusual dissertation . . . a bunch of guys jacking off . . . "

Somehow, I found it difficult to concentrate on my book of Orthodox theology.

Vignettes from a Voyage

I haven't said much about my trip to Europe. Now that I've been back for more than two weeks, I guess I'm overdue.

I plan to do several posts. For this one, here are some random impressions, thoughts, and tidbits.

• Number of times I felt endangered on the trip: 2. Once, when riding the MARTA subway train from my house to the Atlanta airport; the other time, when riding it home from the airport. Budapest and Vienna both are very safe cities, even at night, and even when you're alone. The worst hooliganism I saw in two weeks was a high school kid slapping his hand on a subway car window in order to scare a passenger inside. Contrast that with Atlanta, where passengers are threatening fistfights with each other (really).



• Number of dirty toilets I encountered on the trip: Zero, unless you count the Atlanta airport. It didn't matter whether I was in airports, restaurants, museums, or cafes, I never had to deal with a dirty toilet or a seat that someone had peed on. It was bizarre.



• Number of waiters who introduced themselves ("Hello, I'm Adolf and I'll be your waiter today!"), and number who came by every 10 minutes to ask, "Is everything OK?": Zero. The Austrians and Hungarians have a different view of service. Shortly after you come in (and seat yourself), the waiter approaches your table and asks what you'd like to order. He then brings your food and leaves you alone. When you're ready to pay, you catch his eye (it's not usually hard), he comes to the table, you pay, and you're out of there in 30 seconds. No faux friendships, no sucking up, but no neglect, either. They seem to realize you're there to eat, read, and converse with whoever came in with you; you're not there to be entertained by the staff. Although waiters in Vienna (especially in cafes) can be arrogant, even disdainful, I like this form of service better than ours.



• Number of people in Budapest you can stare at: Almost zero. Particularly because I was alone, I did a lot of people-watching on this trip. But I found that's a difficult proposition in Budapest. It seems that the residents of this city have very active eyes, so if you're looking at them, they'll figure it out in about 2 seconds.



• When I would like to move back to Vienna: Never. More about that later, perhaps.

Photos: Cafe Diglas (top) and Cafe Sacher (bottom), both in Vienna

Kentucky Christmas

Here's the video I mentioned in last Friday's post about a member of our church who felt led by God to help a poverty-stricken county in the Appalachians. Enjoy:

O Come, O Come Emmanu-WHO?

There are times I really love my church.

Sunday morning we saw a video about one of our members who felt led by the Lord to start an annual toy drive for a town in Kentucky that was devastated by the closure of its coal(?) mine. She's quite a dynamo, and it's amazing how much she collects from her neighborhood and beyond - it looked like at least 3 big U-Haul trucks' worth. There are ladies in the Kentucky town who were praying for help, and they never imagined it would come from a rich Atlanta suburb they probably never had even heard of. And many in the town have now been touched by the love of Christ that compelled this housewife to do something she would never have dreamed of, either.

As I watched this video, I thought how wonderful it is that I go to a church where people take the initiative to meet needs and don't just sit back and wait for the paid professionals to do something. And I also love how the church was willing to praise this venture to the congregation, even though this wasn't a "church-sponsored" outreach. That's a sign of being more concerned about spreading the kingdom of God than the kingdom of Perimeter Church, and that's a good thing.

And then, Sunday evening, I was back at church, sitting next to a new Christian during our Christmas program. This guy grew up Hindu but came to faith in Christ while working on a graduate degree here in the U.S. He moved to Atlanta recently to take a job and somehow ended up going to our church. As the program went on, we listened to songs and monologues and watched some ballet. Toward the end, he turned to me and asked, "What is 'Emmanuel'?"

What, indeed? Emmanu-El, "With us is God," "God with us." Since childhood, I've sung the song. "Emmanuel" is part of my culture, but a new term to this new believer. Shortly after his question, a singer sang about how children see Jesus as white, Asian, or black, according to what they are. And the dancers were white, Asian, and black children. I love how the Gospel is not a "Western" thing or an "American" thing, but a "World" thing. And I love how we have a number of people from around the world in our congregation. And I love how some of them have only recently met Jesus. And I love how new believers remind us of the wonder of the faith, when we "old hands" take so many things for granted. May their number increase among us.

"The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel" - which means, "God with us." -- Matthew 1.23

Ebola Journal

Friends of a friend (of a friend?) are missionary doctors in Uganda. You may have heard of the latest Ebola outbreak there. The doctors, a husband and wife team, are in the midst of it, and their blog certainly transcends the usual daily blog fare. It reads like a movie script, except it's true and it's happening now.

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Here's an excerpt from a couple days ago, and you can read all their entries here. (By the way, MSF stands for Medecins sans Frontieres, which we know as Doctors Without Borders; WHO is the UN's World Health Organization; and CDC is the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, based in Atlanta.)

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The official case count has gone up from 51 to 79 since the initial numbers were released four days ago. We now have 21 admitted in Bundibugyo (up from 16 yesterday) while only one more patient came to Kikyo (10 total). Dr. Sessanga continues to struggle on with his case; Dr. Jonah needed IV fluids today but was reported to be stable. It was another dawn to post-dusk day for Scott, which included two three-hour-long meetings as well as final assembly and initial use of a brand new lawnmower we just imported in the nick of time to keep the airstrip open for the sudden increase in flights. Three MSF personnel hitched a ride in on the plane that took our team out; more CDC and WHO folks are expected on Wednesday, so keeping the airstrip open is an important part of the logistics of this operation.

Pray for Scott to have wisdom to know his role, to respond with leadership and compassion and wisdom and courage. We are used to being a bit more on the sidelines politically, focusing on patient care. This crisis throws him into the middle of everything, and the lines of authority are not always clear. Added to that is the fact that this is a new strain, so if one person makes a statement about transmission and another challenges it, we really can’t be sure who is right, because this epidemic may not progress in the same way that others have done.

The MSF team is impressive and fascinating, they are tracking numbers and plotting maps and have already concluded from interviews that besides patient care in the hospital, the greatest risk factor is the handling of dead bodies at burial.

We do sense the incredible outpouring of concern and prayer from our friends. It is a bit edgy to go hour to hour with the background thought of . . .do I feel a twinge of nausea, could that be a fever coming on . . . But mostly we remain confident that our measures to protect ourselves even before we knew the gravity of the situation were adequate. The kids made it to Kampala safe and sound, and compared to the agony of deciding to send them away, the reality of missing them is not nearly as painful. Scott was remembering the days of war, when the team dwindled down to two or three adults only, it feels like that again now, with all the separation and uncertainty.

You can find the doctors' blog at www.paradoxuganda.blogspot.com.

Hire This Man

My friend Paul has a tutoring business in the Atlanta area. If you're anywhere nearby and want to learn French - or know somebody who does - check out his web site and get in touch with him. I've met several of his students, and they love him.