Conversations

Saturday morning I went jogging through my favorite village.  Rice fields were basking in sunlight, still intense before the midday haze.  Retired men played mahjong in front of the little convenience store.  I recognized Uncle Robin by his full-toothed smile and white hair sticking out from under his red cap.  The laoban, the old lady who owned the shop, was just opening the business and already had the tv tuned to a Buddhist monk preaching in saffron-colored robes.  "Hallo!" Uncle Robin called out to me as I came up the alley.

     "Hao jiu bu jian!"  Long time no see, I replied.  One autumn evening when they saw me running, I was invited to sit down and drink a Taiwan beer with them.  So I did, and our gestures communicated much more than my broken Chinese and their broken English at that time.  Now, we always greet each other.  They seem to live in front of that shop, playing mahjong, eating noodles, and watching Buddhist tv.

     "Tomorrow we are going to the temple, to bai bai, worship.  You are welcome to come!"  I was pleasantly surprised to be invited.  I decided that it could be a step closer to inviting them to church, so of course I went.  I arrived a little late the next morning and caught only the end of the parade:  pop music blaring, a scantily-dressed girl pole dancing on top of a truck, an altar carried with bouncing flags behind it, and a thickly-eyebrowed god costume riding above a pair of jeans and tennis shoes strutting proudly with each step.  As the procession inched its way down the narrow alley, I went back towards the temple.

      I stood between the pillars of carved dragons, breathing air thick with incense.   A proud ancient melody droned from some corner of the temple.  Decorated packages of rice offerings lay on tables along with purple orchids, fruit, candles, and ghost money.  I have always hated temples; to my conservative Christian eyes they have always been pure evil.  But this time my imagination took hold of me, and the word "evil" found itself being eclipsed with "redeemable".  What if those angry-eyed statues of the gods were replaced with crosses?  What if the dragons were carved into angels instead?  What if the paintings of ancestors fighting demon dogs were repainted to tell the accounts of Peter, Paul, John and the power of the Gospel?  What if that same melody looping over and over brought with it the words of a psalm?  There was nothing intrinsically evil about the music, nor the wood, nor the flowers, nor the love of beauty I saw in its designers.  If only they knew the Truth, the Source of beauty itself... If God can redeem people, surely He can redeem wood and paint and music, too?  Still, it's hearts God wants to dwell in-- not the temple.

      A young man with a volunteer nametag began to talk with me.  "It's bao sheng da di's birthday today-- he's the god of rice and weather.  Oh, and healing too."  I was grateful for the volunteer’s English; no one has explained many of the religious stories to me.  He told me the god's name, but he couldn't recall how bao sheng da di became a god.  I learned that people with health problems come here on bao sheng da di's birthday to pray for healing.  As the volunteer was telling me this, I saw an elderly man, his neck in a brace, walk into the temple and bow.  He began the process of worship, prayer, and casting pieces of wood to decide his fortune.  I wondered how many years this man has been coming on this day, asking for healing with no response.  A young boy was also there, sizing up the dragons, sniffing candles, poking at the rice.

      "Not many kids come to temples anymore," the volunteer mused.  "Maybe not many believe."

      "Do you believe?"  He was hesitant to answer.

      "You're a teacher at the Christian school, right?"  He asked.

      "Yeah, I am."

      "Oh, I didn't think you would be interested in seeing our temple."

      "Well, it's important for me to understand Taiwanese people and culture.  I'm glad to meet you.  But it's time for me to go to church now...."

      He gave me his business card before I left.  I hope to talk with him again soon.

~*~

My Taiwanese friend invites me to her house for lunch.  Tomorrow is Matzu's birthday, the goddess of sea and fishermen.  My friend prepares food for the ancestors and ghost money to burn.

     "Why do you burn money?"  I already know the answer.

     "So ancestors can buy things in the afterlife.  You know, in heaven, or... wherever."

     "How much did that ghost money cost?"

     "One hundred NT."  About three US dollars.

     "Oh.  Things must be cheaper in heaven,"  I smile.

     "Well, I really don't know much about heaven.  There are classes to take at the university, Daoist or Zen Buddhist classes, but I don't participate."

      "Are you interested in learning about heaven?"

      "No, not really."  She changes the subject to her calligraphy.  Before I leave, I say something about how life is short, and forever is a long time, and it's important to learn about heaven, but the words sound flat and oblong in my mouth and they fall on apathetic ears.  Why, God?  What can I do to show her how necessary You are?

~*~

       A senior student comes to my office to chat.  She wants to improve her conversational English.  We talk about food, movies, yoga, travel, Taiwanese politics.  She tells me of her senioritis and lack of motivation.  She tells me of her pressure to perform in school.  She tells me that she's always on edge, easily angered, that she feels sickened when she compares herself to her classmates and comes up the underdog.  

     "So you're pretty competitive, huh?"  I ask, and she nods.  "So am I.  It's really easy to feel frustrated with ourselves when we feel like we aren't succeeding like other people. And if others fail, we feel pretty good about it, don't we?"  She laughs knowingly.  Even when friends fail, we both muse.

     "Yeah, I do that, too.  Naturally, I want to rejoice in other people's failures.  But I have to ask God to come and change my heart and make it like His.  I want to be able to have the strength to wish both my friends and enemies the best and genuinely care about their success.  I can't do that on my own, but God gives me the strength and changes my heart."

      "So, you're a Christian?"  she asks.  I answer and tell her why, and ask about her faith.

      "My grandparents are Taoists, but my parents aren't serious about faith.  I guess I'm looking for something to give me peace.  I really need peace right now."

      "Well, you've had Bible classes.  What do you think about Jesus?"

      "Mmmm.... many of my classmates are Christians, but I don't know."

      "Well, I know Jesus doesn’t want you to live in this anxiety.  He wants you to be free.  Is it okay if I pray for you this week, that Jesus would give you peace?"

      "You want to do that for me?"

      "Yeah, I do.  And I also encourage you to pray about it."

      "But I don't know how to pray."

      "Praying is just talking with God.  It's really easy!"

      "But I'm Taiwanese.  Will Jesus hear me?  I mean, He's a Western God."

Oh, the joy in telling her that the God of the Bible isn't just the God of America.  He's the God of the whole world-- Taiwan too!  He will hear her.  He knows her.  He made her.  He knows the hairs on her head and the thoughts in her mind.  And He cares.  She left with a sense of calm, and we are both looking forward to our meeting next week.  Abba, thanks for promising to reveal Yourself to those who seek You with their whole heart.  Thanks for being Good News to the entire world.  If I tried to fill this world with my love, I would come up empty and bitter.  But You, You never run out of love for us.

Change and Challenge

"You need to update your blog!"  My mom reminds me every time I talk with her.  I shrug it off, but I know she's right.  Regardless of who reads, I need to write.  It's my way to process and to understand the situations around me.  I've refrained from writing, not because nothing has happened-- it's that too much is happening.  How can I explain it all?  

Taiwan's fruit stands once stacked with winter oranges now sell piles of bananas and pineapples.  Rice fields have changed from expansive muddy pools mirroring the sky's light to lush blue-green stalks and heads of grain not yet ripe for the next harvest.  The constant foggy winter coolness has become a cycle, spinning like a kaleidoscope of haze, humidity, rain, clarity, sunshine, then haze again.  Cherry blossoms and tourists fill the Chiayi mountains.  Teachers and students have gone in a progression from post-vacation freshness, to mid-term blues, to renewed energy.  And God's faithfulness has come full-circle for me over and over again:

ALEA.  Two weeks ago, five of us teachers from Taiwan attended the Asia Lutheran Educators Association conference in Hong Kong (only an hour flight from Taiwan).  Also attending the conference were missionaries from the Philippines, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Japan, Korea, Macau, China, Hong Kong, India, Australia and the States.  Participants varied from principals to student teachers, from LCMS leaders to lowly rookie missionaries such as myself.  I heard stories from men and women who started these Lutheran schools that now constellate maps of the eastern hemisphere.  We worshipped Kenyan-style.  Part of the conference involved a simulation in which we felt a minuscule amount of torture that refugees go through on a daily basis around the globe (I could talk about that experience alone for hours).  A presentation was given on the history of missions in China, Taiwan and Hong Kong, and it helped me to comprehend the great legacy of which we are a part.  Plans were made to start schools in Cambodia, a country rich in culture but sick with sex trade.  We heard the story of a 9-year-old boy at the Lutheran school in Shanghai who decided to send playgrounds to Liberia because it wasn't fair that children there didn't have any.  I was challenged with the reality of how our students can change the world.

Photo courtesy of Megan Kincaid

The ALEA conference was exactly what I needed.  First of all, it reminded me how small I am.  God's activity in the world transcends me.  My small contribution to the mission field pales in comparison to career missionaries, and when I think of how many missionaries God has called around the world throughout history, I am baffled.  Who else can inspire so many people throughout history to leave their homes to serve people they don't know?  It's not our love, but the unconditional love of Jesus that moves hearts like that.  Our God is so beautiful that countless masses of people have gladly given their lives for Him.

Secondly, the conference reminded me to struggle.  When God draws us close to His heart, we begin to delight in the things that delight Him.  But we also learn to hate things that He hates.  We learn to detest lies, greed, murder, pride.  We learn to mourn our sin like He mourns, we learn to cry for people who reject the truth as He cries, we learn to be moved by compassion as Jesus was.  Some questions that I struggle with as a missionary:

How can I clearly teach God's word to my students?  How can I demonstrate God's perfect love?  How can I convince my students that Jesus wants a personal relationship with them?  That money and grades aren't the most important things in life?  That we can't trust ourselves, but God?  That "having a good reputation" does not equal righteousness?  Why do people choose empty idols of pride, fame, power?  Am I doing the same thing?  Am I trusting in my actions to save me or wholly relying on God's grace?

I've felt the temptation to quit asking these questions and just go through the external motions of my job.  But if I am no longer bothered by sin, I've stopped loving.  After talking with other missionaries at the conference who've felt the same way, I am encouraged to continue caring about my students, which also means continue struggling, being brokenhearted over sin and begging God for mercy.  There is beauty and meaning in the struggle.  Jacob wrestled with God and persisted, and was blessed for it.  When we're uncomfortable, confused, questioning, tired, weak-- that's often when God's grace is clearest to us.  It could mean taking a stand against abortion, rethinking one's entire teaching strategy, aching with homesickness while off "on a mission", or being moved by compassion to pray for someone instead of getting an extra hour of sleep.  God, teach me to be persistent in the good fight.  Teach me to struggle.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

Matthew 5:4

Next Year.  I've decided that this is my last year in Taiwan, since I fulfilled my initial 2-year commitment and I feel that it's time to move on to new experiences.  I'll be returning home on July 19.  During these two years in Taiwan, God has broadened my understanding of Him and the world He created.  Taiwan and its people will always have a giant piece of my heart.  I'm currently in the market looking for a job in the States (mom says anywhere closer than Taiwan is acceptable!).  I'd like to work with refugees and immigrants or do some similar humanitarian work.  Please pray for me as I look and wait for the next adventure that God has for me.  I look forward to seeing you all again soon!

In Christ,

Anna

Spirit

Dear friends,

I've left my blog abandoned since December even though much has been happening.

In January a Mongolian girl came to our Friday Night Bible Study.  Though she does not have much Bible knowledge, it is clear that she loves God, wants to learn more about him, and identifies herself as Christian.  Her parents in Mongolia hate Jesus and told her to never go to church, but she had secretly been attending for several years.  Now that she's in Taiwan studying, she's free to worship Jesus openly and attend our English Bible study.  I had the honor to sit with her at our Bible study while she heard the story of Lazarus for the first time.  "Did this really happen?"  "Is this really possible?"  "This is amazing!"  She said out of awe, not disbelief.  I can't remember the first time I heard this story, so seeing her initial reaction to God's glory filled me with joy.  My friend and I have been seeing her alternately every week, sharing the fundamental Bible stories with her.  I am completely humbled that God has put me in a position of teaching such a willing and joyful student.  Why me?  I am not worthy, but God is worthy of her praise, so I must do my best.  I am fully confident that this girl will not only take to heart all of these Bible lessons, but also take them back to her church in Mongolia, where dozens of young people gather to sing praises to Jesus and study the only poor translation of the Bible they have available to them.  Please pray for your Mongolian sister.

Also, I've been talking with a Taiwanese Jehovah's witness for months.  I admire her dedication, her extensive Biblical knowledge, and her arduous work for Jehovah God, but she refuses to recognize who He is-- The Three in One.  We've talked doctrine and apologetics many times and personal faith and experiences even more times.  She rejects Jesus' divinity, and by doing so rejects God's whole Identity.  It's made clear to me that God's Spirit is the One who reveals the wisdom of God to us-- no matter how much evidence one sees, it is impossible to say Jesus is Lord except by the His Spirit.  It's ironic that although my Mongolian friend has little to no Bible knowledge, she hears God's Word with an open heart and accepts what it says, yet someone who has studied the Bible for years cannot understand when Jesus says plainly that He has existed before the creation of the world.  With God's Spirit comes wisdom, not in the letter of the Law but in the Spirit of the Law.

I pray that God keeps us all clay that He's able to mold and shape, humble and teachable, and that He gives us His Spirit to fully understand His Word.

In Christ,

Anna


P.S. Next entry, I'll share some of my experiences during our time in India.  It was definitely blessed by God.

It doesn't look at all like Christmas.

Dear All,

A very Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year!

It's been an eventful holiday season once again in Taiwan.  What with caroling down the neon-lit streets and musty back alleys, the students' colorful tree decorating contest, the church's musical Christmas celebration as well as our own American Team Taiwan "family" gatherings filled with sarcasm and good ol' American humor, I haven't had time to catalogue it all until now.

Perhaps the best way to show you what we've been up to is to share these videos with you:

Halfway through December, I realized I didn't care at all about Christmas coming.  That's not normal; I am a girl who adores everything about Christmas.  I used to say that I live for Christmas.  But since I'm not with my family and friends, it seemed easier not to care.

I once had the privilege of hearing a Holocaust survivor speak.  During the question time afterward, I asked him if his faith helped him through that difficult time.  He responded, "Without our temple, our Sabbath, our menorahs, our dietary laws, we had no faith."  I was always baffled by that answer.  My minor discomforts cannot compare to the horrors of the Holocaust, but I do understand that man a little better now.

It's hard when the way you worship God is changed.  It's strange being in a foreign land with different customs, operating under a different calendar so that I lose delineation between seasons, that Christmastime and Eastertime become just time.  Smells of cinnamon and peppermint that instantaneously connect with the Nativity in my mind are replaced with fish, soy sauce, cabbage dumplings.  Carols that I could sing in my sleep suddenly have unintelligible lyrics that I can't pronounce fast enough to keep up with everyone else.  Whereas Christmas used to mean a week of uninterrupted family laughter and games, I can afford two minutes with each one I love through a computer screen on Christmas Day.  Everything I knew about Christmas has been torn away, except for one thing: the fact that over two thousand years ago, in a tiny town in Israel, a boy was born who was God in a human body.  He chose to leave his perfectly comfortable home in heaven and come to earth to feel pain, sickness, tiredness, hunger, cold, heat, sadness.  Whereas changing countries is a shock, I'm sure the difference between heaven and earth is infinitely greater!  Jesus didn't hold onto heaven, his power, his comfort.  (Philippians 2) He let it go and left His home for us.  And He endured it all for joy. (Hebrews 12:2) Our joy at being reunited with God, and God's joy in gaining sons and daughters.

As soon as I realized I was subconsciously disconnecting myself from the upcoming holiday, God gave me strength to change.  He gave me strength not just to fake happiness, but to really be so filled with joy that I sang those Christmas hymns at the top of my lungs.  I handed out cookies and cider with relish.  I shouted "Merry Christmas!" to strangers.  I requested every Christmas hymn in the hymnal for sing-a-longs.  I can honestly say that God filled me with joy this Christmas season, and we celebrated in new ways and old ways alike.  It's silly for me to be sad on Christmas, because there is absolutely nothing to be sad about!

For all of us who are away from home, or missing a loved one, or without a job, we can still have joy.  Our joy is not founded in the tinsel, cookies, music, pageants, gifts, trees, or even (as much as we cherish it above all else) family time.  Our joy is in the birth of our Savior.  We have that no matter where we go or what we do, who we're with and what we eat.  May you be filled with the joy of the Savior-- and also have your fill of family, carols, and cookies!  The enemy cannot take our joy away!

Merry Christmas.


In Christ,

Anna Gruen

Giving Thanks for Thanksgiving

Last week a Taiwanese lady from our church told us she wanted to initiate a traditional American Thanksgiving lunch after church the following Sunday.  It started with her asking us for advice on what dishes to make, then turned into going grocery shopping with her, and before I knew it, I was suddenly in charge of making everything!  Me-- who's never cooked a Thanksgiving meal in my life, who has trouble cooking for myself let alone for everyone in church.  Mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, stuffing, apple pie, the works!  I could have been upset, but I didn't have time-- it was already Saturday and I had too much cooking to do-- besides, I guess I never refused, so I couldn't anyone but myself.  I stayed up past 1:00am making those apple pies. Early Sunday morning came and I was bleary-eyed.  Our church sister came to the door and helped me load the dishes into her car, and we headed off for church.  

While en route she told me why she funds a large church dinner once a month; she can't sing or do anything else for the church, so this is the way she serves the congregation and shows her gratitude to God.  She also told me about her health conditions.  I never knew that she spent 5 hours in the hospital every other day getting her blood cleaned since her body cannot do it on her own.  She's been like that for 18 years.  She took my hand and placed it on her other arm, made me feel a lump of a machine vibrating under her skin.

"I'm telling you because you ask.  I don't always have to tell people how sick I am.  But when other people have health problems, I can stand in front of them and encourage them.  God has really carried me on his back these years."  She said, wiping a tear.  Suddenly I was very thankful to have this time with her.

We toiled a few hours before church started and right through the sermon.  "Shouldn't we go to church?"  I asked, exhausted.  "Feeding our spirits is more important than feeding our bodies."  

"Don't worry," she assured me. "On days I know I need to cook during church, I always watch sermons on TV beforehand.  I find time."  For having so many health problems, she sure had WAY more energy in the kitchen than I did!

The Thanksgiving lunch was a huge success!  We fed over 50 people.  The Taiwanese LOVED the mashed potatoes, and even ate the apple pie-- even though Taiwanese react to cinnamon the way Americans react to cherry cough drops (it's a medicine for them) and even though I burned the bottom of the pies due to using an unfamiliar oven and pans.  Some men volunteered to clean after the lunch-- which was a HUGE blessing -- and there was plenty of food leftover.

Thank God that I did not drop in a pathetic heap of back pain and lack of kitchen experience!

Thank God that people volunteered to help Saturday night and Sunday morning!

Thank God everyone was fed and all turned out well!

Thank God for his provision!

Thank God that He was glorified!

I am thankful.

And completely turned off of Thanksgiving food for another year.  >_<

Happy Thanksgiving!   I hope your Thanksgiving meal experience is just as joyous as mine (but maybe a little less stressful!)  It is truly a blessing to be able to celebrate God's bounty with family and friends.

"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.

His love endures forever."     --Psalm 136:1

In Christ,

Anna Gruen 谷恩娜

November: Blessed to be a Blessing

Last weekend our team had our annual fall retreat-- a time to run away from school-related work and be reminded of why we're here.  We took a bus to the mountains where we met a church of aboriginal people called the Tsou tribe.

Photo above:  A Presbyterian mountain church of the Tsou tribe.  Below:  Pastor teaches us how to play the nose flute.  I could play "Amazing Grace", even though they said my nose was the wrong shape to play their flutes!

The congregation is quite small with many elderly members, including five widows who own small plots of coffee trees.  In order to help these women make a living, the church buys the beans from the widows at a generous price, pays to skin and roast the beans, and then sells the finished product.  Both the widows and the church benefit from this agreement.  As part of our retreat, we learned all about processing coffee beans, and even got to spend a couple hours helping ama (grandma) pick her beans.

 The rest of the time we spent hiking in the beautiful mountains, reading God's Word, worshiping, and learning more about each team member and how we work as a team.  Special guest Sean (missionary working in the Philippines and Taiwan) helped out with leading worship and cooked us some delicious meals.

Pastor Carl led us in devotions with our theme "Blessed to be a blessing", based on God's promise to Abraham in Genesis 12:2.

In our devotions we were reminded that part of being a missionary is going through the grieving process of what we left behind.  Just like Abraham, we are called to leave our country behind and follow God to the place where he sends us.  Undoubtedly Abraham had struggles along his way.  But when following God, even hardships overflow with blessings.

"What does this have to do with my life?"  You might be wondering.  "I'm not a missionary."

We are ALL called to leave things behind as we follow God.  Maybe that thing isn't our country, but maybe it's our tendency to worry, our quick-as-lightening anger, our greedy eyes that idolize someone else's house or car or body, our grumbling tongue, our comfortable spiritual apathy.  Basically, we're called to leave OURSELVES behind and follow God to a place of blessing.  There is always struggle.  But God promises that even through the difficulties of following Him, we will be blessed and will be a blessing to others.  This promise is true for all of us.

I pray that all of us remain willing to daily leave our worldly comforts behind for the best prize-- struggling along to follow God and being blessed in the process.  Let's not be found sleeping when the Master returns home.

In Christ,

Anna

Prayer requests:

1.  For Noel, a team member who is undergoing some serious health tests this week.

2.  For a Jehovah's Witness whom I have been talking with on a weekly basis.

3.  For students, teachers, and student teachers at Concordia Middle School and their salvation, that God would open their hearts to His Truth.

4.  For the Philippines, our neighbor in Southeast Asia, which remains devastated after the cataclysmic hurricane. 

October

October is filled with blessings, as all months are.

We have four American girls, one American grandpa, and a Taiwanese teacher in our house.  Every morning, we four American girls start our day with 6am exercise.  We hold each other accountable.  We knock on the doors of sleepy team mates.  We leave little "congratulations" notes to mark another success.  At 8:30am, we pray for each other before we leave for school.  Part of our ministry here is learning to love each other, taking care of each other as we take care of our students.  Our American grandpa helps us take care of the house, he listens to our struggles with stubborn students, and forgives us when we're crabby.  He is a model of selflessness and humility for us to mimic.  Our Taiwanese coworker is a good roommate and we always share silly stories of the what our students have been up to and sometimes watch tv shows together.  I'm so blessed to have them, each one of them in this house.  It certainly is a beautiful place. 

It's necessary, because teaching is not without it's struggles.  Of course.  Any teacher will tell you that.

A teacher's work is never done, nor is a missionary's.  There is so much love and grace we want to give, but at the same time we must be disciplined in order to keep the high standards of the school and in order to keep our authority (students know that American teachers are a bit softer than Taiwanese teachers, and they're good at using it to their advantage!)  Most of the struggle is just classroom management.  When we struggle with that, we also struggle with feelings of failure.  But we must keep going, and we must keep loving in a firm way.  God gives us grace to not give up.

Spanish classes are my biggest struggle.  We have no textbooks, and no fund to buy them.  I did my best to construct a first semester curriculum for the students' to use, but I cannot do the job of a team of professionals.  I'm waiting to send my request to the administration for a Spanish textbook fund... if that doesn't happen, I'll be talking with Lutheran schools in America to see if they have any old textbooks that they can donate.  I am in prayer about this, as a solid Spanish program could be a real advantage for Concordia and keep its reputation as an elite school.

A few weeks ago we had a young person's confirmation at church, and next week a student is getting baptized.  I'll post some photos.  Praise God that He is the one who changes hearts!  We cannot do it, but His Word is powerful.

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."  -- Ephesians 3:19-20

The weather is cooling, and I'm finally able to sit at my desk and walk to my class without sweating profusely.  Mango season is almost over, soon to be replaced with oranges in the marketplace.  Chinese classes are going well and I'm reading a second grade textbook right now (it's challenging enough!)  My colleague has been teaching me free of charge, which is a real Godsend, and so I always try to gift her with fruit or other food to show my appreciation (as is customary in Taiwan).  I'm resigned to the fact, however, that no matter how fluent my Chinese may become, I'll forever stick out in Asia with my blond hair!

Thank you so much for your encouragement and your prayers.  I love hearing from you all, via emails or facebook, and you are a joy to me in my ministry.  Remember that you are not alone in your faith-- along with you, millions of Christians from all over the world are setting their sights on eternity, renouncing this world and its ways, living lives of love and waiting for Christ to return as He promised.    You are not alone!

In Christ,

Anna Gruen




A letter that keeps me going...