Lake Sevan
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The Fellowship Divided
Today our team will part ways for the first time. Our contacts have arranged for us some exciting opportunities to teach the bible in churches outside of the capital and Artik will be the first. Artik is a small city in the mountains northwest of Yerevan roughly a three hour commute by Marshutka. One of the YWAMers here in Yerevan used to pastor there and has set us up to teach in one of his previous churches. Because we also have commitments to teach here in Yerevan we are temporarily dividing the fellowship. Saana and I will be teaching in Artik for three days, while Anna and Charity hold down the fort here. Please pray for Gods grace and protection as we teach in small groups here in Yerevan and also our Bible Study seminar in Artik.
Armenia, Week One
Despite the typical setbacks, miscommunications, and travel fatigue we have successfully survived our first week of ministry here in Yerevan.
Ministry this week has primarily consisted of teaching in a local Church’s twelve small groups. These groups are very diverse and it is almost impossible to compare any one group with the others. Some are held in apartments within the city, others in nearby homes, some in remote villages and we have even taught once on a small farm. Interestingly, we have noticed that the groups have been predominantly female, even radically so. The men that do attend the meetings are generally slower to participate or even show an interest in the subject. The Inductive Bible Study lessons have been well received, however. Apart from our small group teaching we have been involved with the Church’s weekly youth service and delivered four sermons on Sunday.
Teaching cross-culturally has its own unique challenges but as we have discovered, so do small groups. Of course the small group is ideal for storytelling, sharing testimonies, and enjoying Christian fellowship but it is fairly limited for delivering a lecture or overseeing a practical class workshop. Stuck to our cushioned seats we have been forced to adapt our preferred style and depend more on stories, broad hand gestures, and strong eye-contact to carry our teachings rather than whiteboards, wall illustrations, and standing movement around the room.
Like many cultures around the world it cannot be overstated how absolutely central the role of family plays here in Armenia. Family is everything. We have discovered that one of the best ways you can bridge the teacher-student gap is to share a story about your family or pull out the latest family photo. It results in immediate interest and relate-ability.
The typical Armenian small group experience involves a long Marshutka (Bus) ride across the city where we meet our contacts and/or translators. This is followed by another ride of various length to the host’s house where upon arrival we exchange somewhat lengthy greetings and introductions. After answering the normal questions of ‘When did you repent?’, ‘What kind of miracles have you experienced?’, and ‘Are you married?’ we begin our study which usually lasts around an hour to an hour and a half. At this point you would expect us to pack up and leave. You would be mistaken. We have only begun. What follows is twenty minutes of translated fellowship while a meal is prepared. We then sit down to an extravagant feast, followed by desert, then fruit, and finally coffee. Only after we all agree how full we are and how good the food is will we pack up, grab a lift, take another Marshutka and arrive safely at home. Now just repeat that nine to twelve times a week and you’ve just about got it!
Having conquered our first week and gained a little familiarity with our schedule we are exploring the potential for ministry in other local churches and are very seriously considering organizing a series of seminars in Northeastern Armenia. We are very grateful for your interest, support and prayers.
Hajo!
Joshua, Anna, Saana, and Charity
Armenia, Days One & Two
The following are adapted excerpts from my personal journal. As such I do not expect or intend for the reader to understand everything written therein.
Day one. After a grueling 17 hours of travel involving lost team members and currency exchange fanatics we have finally reached our destination. Upon arriving at the airport we were promptly met by Paul (a local missionary) and taken to a missionary guest house here in Yerevan; somehow all five of us and our luggage were miraculously squashed like sardines into the base’s small black Volkswagen golf. If one word could describe our accommodation it would unmistakably be, luxurious. To prove the point our hosts had even turned on the purple limelites embedded in the multi-layered fourteen foot ceiling to make us feel more at home. Certainly a stark contrast when compared with the decaying soviet style apartment blocks just outside the window. Heck, even a decent contrast to most YWAM bases. Nonetheless it has proved to be a welcome though unexpected blessing. Best of all we have a washing machine; meaning no laundry by hand this time! After catching up on some sleep, organizing the weeks teaching, and delegating outreach responsibilities we embarked on a two hour march through the heat in search of the ever elusive open air market. Among other events duly noted, we were promptly reminded that we were in fact on outreach in a third-world nation by a late night phonecall informing us informing us that we would be teaching on ‘Christian Service’ the following afternoon. After a frenzy of group mindmapping and scripture surfing we were able to come up with a satisfactory, not to mention personally challenging message on modeling Christ in service to others.
Day two. After a short meeting with our translators and the leaders of Pastor Samuel’s church we made our first small group visit. After a exhilarating and life threatening Taxi ride we arrived at a small concrete home tucked away in Yerevan suburbia. Big smiles, kisses, handshakes, and awkward hand gestures met us as we were ushered in out of the heat and into the cool of their concrete living room. After unsuccessfully trying to communicate and memorize their strangely pronounced Armenian names we sat down for espresso and cake. Having declined multiple offers for more cake or coffee Anna my Swedish teammate began to teach and discuss our motivation for and practice of servant hood. Together we investigated the passage in John’s gospel where Jesus washes the disciples feet and changes Christian leadership forever. She asks the question “Was Jesus instituting a Christian ritual or commissioning his disciples into a lifestyle of humble servanthood?”, “How did the Apostles apply this principle of humble, selfless service?”, and finally “What does it look like for us to ‘wash people’s feet’ today?” After warm discussion and prayer we were steered towards a great welcome feast where our pathetic attempts at small talk in Armenian were the source of much amusement to our hosts. Our conclusion? If this continues we will have to choose between offending our hosts or buying bigger belts. Armenian hospitality may well be the death of us.
Meet Kiyono
‘Hi, I’m Josh’
‘Kiyono’
‘Nice to meet you Heeyono’
‘No, its actually Kiyono not Heeyono’
‘Oh, nice to meet you Keeyono. Did I pronounce it right’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh, sorry.’
The following story is living proof that even awkward in-flight conversation starters just like this one can very possibly lead to meaningful, and I dare to say even profound dialogue.
Meet Kiyono, a slender dark haired woman peering intently across the aisle at me from behind a pair of small frameless glasses. As she takes her seat it is hard not to notice that she does not need to so much as duck during the whole procedure, placing her squarely in the rare community of people who either have extraordinarily strong necks or spend their lives conversing with people’s sternums. As the plane taxis to the runway we stumble through rote pleasantries and get the inevitable silent battle for the middle armrest settled. In a short matter of time I discovered that Kiyono was in the process of pursuing her Doctorate in Biology in Zurich but as it so happens was studying various marine organisms inhabiting the Swedish fjords during her summer vacation. She assured me that these specimens inhabiting the Swedish Fjords were extremely ‘unique’. And we can probably take her word for it…
As protocol demanded, eventually the tables turned and I became the focus of the conversation. And with that change comes the unavoidable question ‘So if you’re a teacher, what exactly do you teach?’ That simple question partnered with her natural curiosity led us from what could have been a superficial exchange of pleasantries to a very raw and real discussion of life’s meaning, God’s existence, the validity of the bible and even the relationship between faith and reason.
Suspended at 30,000 feet she confessed her own inner turmoil of wanting to believe in God, morals, meaning, and truth but found that her own background in Japanese mysticism unable to stand the test of her intellect and scientific profession. Could these two realms be reconciled?
With a little prodding she asked whether I believed the bible to be fact or fiction. Whether I thought evolutionary theory disproves God. How could I be sure that God really is the God of the bible and not any of the thousands of Gods professed in Asia and around the world?
By far her best question was ‘What is bible about?’.
As Christians we have an outrageous answer to that question; the bible is the story of God’s work throughout history to deal with sin and redeem undeserving, ill-deserving sinners to himself through Jesus Christ on the cross.
Our forty minute commute ended far too quickly as our plane screeched to a halt. We parted in Copenhagen, but not before I gave her the address of L’abri in Switzerland where she would be more than welcome to discuss, question, and ponder Christianity and the many questions the bible claims to answer.
Had you asked me forty minutes earlier whether I was ‘in the mood’ to talk to the complete stranger sitting beside me, someone who may or may not have even spoken a word of English, I would have had to honestly reply in the negative. I was situated in the coveted window seat along an emergency exit. The best possible seat to kick back, relax and take a nap. It would have been only too easy to give her a nod, pop in my earbuds, and read my book for the rest of the flight.
So I have to ask… where are you flying to next? Can you see that businessman in the suit? The travel crazy hippy with the dreadlocks? The single mother bouncing the screaming toddler on her lap?
Take a deep breath, smile, look them in the eye and say ‘Hi’…
You never know where it might lead you. And hey, they certainly aren’t going anywhere…
A Holiday at the Sea
As a premeditated attempt to escape from the secluded rural lifestyle that is the norm here in Restenas, a group of friends and I commandeered a van and headed into the big-city for the afternoon. We were met by cobble-stone streets, brightly painted shops, backstreet cafe’s, and scores of locals all seemingly competing for the ‘most original attire’ award. After acquiring sore feet and maxing out our memory cards one of the participants and I sat down for a drink along one of Goteborg’s busier streets. Between sipping our pints, discussing the day, and comparing photo’s I found it fascinating to simply watch people as they passed by.
As is to be expected, what I first observed was the obvious differences in dress, style, mannerisms and speed with which they passed by. As I watched, a businessman with his briefcase rushed past and was soon followed by two strolling lovers, then a mother-daughter shopping team passed by excitedly chattering over their purchases. Next a proud father paraded his blond-haired twins by in a stroller, while across the street a local shopkeeper steped outside for a smoke wearing a tired expression. Fast or slow, smiling or sober, alone or with company they all pass us by.
Yet the question haunted me; why did they walk or stroll or smile or frown? To what purpose did they dress this way or that, choose that girl or this, drive this car or that? What drove them to live the way they did? To what end did the business man run or the shopkeeper grimace, the mother and daughter shop?
Men are curious creatures. So complex, yet in the larger scheme of things, simple. All seek happiness, all worship unceasingly. As Blaise Pascal aptly put it:
“All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war, and of others avoiding it, it is the same desire in both, attended with different views. The will never takes the least step but to this object. This is the motive of every action of every man, even of those who hang themselves.”
I sat that saturday afternoon witnessing in all its varied fervor the unabashed pursuit of happiness. All men seek happiness, yet will these find it where they are looking? While contemplating this dilemma C.S. Lewis remarks that:
“Our desires are not too strong, but too weak. We are halfhearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
John Calvin one of the fathers of the Protestant Reformation emphatically points those who seek after happiness to journey to the source. In his ‘Institutes of the Christian Religion’ he makes this statement.
“If God contains the fullness of all good things in himself like an inexhaustible fountain, nothing beyond him is to be sought by those who strike after the highest good and all the elements of happiness.”
How many men passed me by that afternoon that had settled for ‘making mud pies in the slum’ ? How many had never heard that ‘a holiday at the sea’ was being offered? There is idolatry in the hearts of our cities, yet how should we respond? How should I respond? Should I point the finger, turn aside? Allow my brothers to sit in the dirt with mud between their fingers? Hoard my seaside holiday to myself?
Or we might ask how many Christians themselves sit in the gutter making mud pies having succumbed to petty desires? Desiring too little?
For both we should stand with broken hearts and quick hands. For me, a simple drink by the roadside had turned into something else. Nothing short of a heart-wrenching paradigm shift.
The Fellowship Divided
Today our team will part ways for the first time. Our contacts have arranged for us some...
Armenia, Week One
Despite the typical setbacks, miscommunications, and travel fatigue we have successfully...
Armenia, Days One & Two
The following are adapted excerpts from my personal journal. As such I do not expect or...
Meet Kiyono
‘Hi, I’m Josh’ ‘Kiyono’ ‘Nice to meet you Heeyono’ ‘No, its actually...
Ready for Outreach…
...
Portraits of Gothenburg
...
A Holiday at the Sea
As a premeditated attempt to escape from the secluded rural lifestyle that is the norm...