Final Thoughts

Final Reflections by Brandon Woods

I have traveled over 40,000 miles around the world. I have hiked up hills in Nepal and watched the sun rise from behind the Himalayas. I have climbed the great wall, ridden motorcycles in Papua, surfed in Bali, hiked through fields with a Monk in Thailand, swung on vines through ruined temples in Cambodia, gotten robbed in Nepal, ridden trains through India from the top to the bottom, slept in an airport in Turkey, dined with local friends in Rome and Madrid, and slept on a boat in northern Spain.  And now I am home.

Re-entry into America came three days before my family celebrated Christmas, which was on December 23^rd.   For four and a half months everything I needed fit into an 80-liter bag on my back. Christmas morning arrived, and I opened one gift after another until I sat surrounded by a pile of things meant merely for pleasure rather than necessity. It felt vain.

The next day my mom’s side of the family paraded into my parents’ home in San Luis Obispo to celebrate the real day of Christ’s birth.  My older sisters remarked, “Brandon, I don’t think you have laughed since you got home,” which pretty much summed up my emotional state during that first week.

Soon the Christmas hype faded, which gave me time to sit and process the emotions I experienced as I transitioned from the Third World to Christmas in America. After almost two weeks of solitude the reflection process took a turn—it was now time to make videos and slide shows for presentations at Grace Church in SLO.  For two and a half days Tyler and I sat side by side at our computers searching through 7,000 pictures and 20 gigabytes of video for usable material.  Tyler’s goal was to make a 15-minute video, to show the people and climate of each country. I, on the other hand, put together a photomontage of essentially the same thing—I got the easier task.

We first showed the video to a high school youth group.  As the film rolled, I sat and enjoyed listening to the groans and peals of laugher that came from the high school students as they viewed some of the food we ate and the situations we experienced.  All at once the entirety of my adventure fully hit me. Prior to that moment I always knew my experience was unique, but this was the first time I was able to look at the trip objectively as a whole rather than in segmented parts.

Despite all of the people I met and the places I saw, all of the events and memories, I consider them menial compared to the ways God changed my heart and revealed His global church. The times Tyler and I enjoyed most were when God showed us something new about His Character and His Kingdom. Whether we were sitting in a house church in Bali or visiting a small group of women involved in microfinance, we felt God teaching us that community is crucial to Christ’s great commission.

A friend, DJ Bigbie of Crossroads International in Hong Kong, brought our attention to the relationship between community and the great commission. Once we entered Indonesia, we started to fully experience this relationship.  We saw community served as a conduit for sharing the person of Christ.  The idea itself doesn’t seem that complex or innovative.  But one night in Indonesia we realized how different it is from the way most Western Christians go about sharing their faith.

The night I am referencing took place on the island of Bali.  Tyler and I were invited to go to a small group meeting with a bunch of punk rock kids. The meeting place was a Circle K parking lot. We brought a few recovering drug addicts with HIV from the group home where we had been living, and our translator, Chris. We were late and all of the punk kids were seated in a circle eating some rice with pulled pork and hot sauce wrapped in banana leaves. After grabbing a drink and a king-sized Butterfinger, I joined the circle.

All of the kids there didn’t go to a regular church.  This meeting outside the Circle K was church.  Luckily for us, about half of the local kids spoke decent English and one kid, named Chris, (not Chris the translator) explained their situation to us. He told us that traditional, or Western churches, rejected them because of their Mohawks and tattoos. So, they decided to start their own interest based house churches. The goal: to create a group of people brought together by a common interest.  According to their house church philosophy, a relationship must be established before any evangelism takes place.

That night was especially convicting to me. In high school when I wanted to share the Gospel with friends my first action was to invite them to Youth Group.  In my mind, my involvement stopped there; I hoped the pastor would preach about the sin of man and the grace of God, leading any friend towards repentance.  I do not think that my actions in high school were abnormal.  I think that Western Christianity’s attempt to preach the gospel has been reduced to an invitation to a church function and an expectation that the church will do the rest.

But what we should ask ourselves is this: why would any non-Christian want to come to Church?  Sure, they may feel like something is missing from their life, but more often then not once at Church they will most likely feel like they do not fit in, especially for the younger generation. Whether we like it or not, there is an underlying pressure in Western Christianity to look, act, and talk a certain way.  Chances are, if I have sleeve tattoos, smoke two packs a day, and like to drop an occasional curse word, I will not feel comfortable going to a Church composed of prim and proper white people who use words like redeemed and sanctified.

I think that the punk kids have it right.  After all, isn’t the Gospel about meeting people where they are, introducing them to Christ, and then allowing Christ to transform their lives?  Paul did that.  In Acts 17: 22-23 when Paul addresses the Athenians, He says:

“Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious.  For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an alter with the inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you.”

Paul creates community with the Athenians by meeting with them at the center of their society—the forum—and appeals to their own form of religion creating a way of introducing the God of the Bible.

Tyler and I experienced this method of sharing the Gospel all over Asia.  We went to break dancing house churches, 50% of which were Muslim; we lived in a group home for drug addicts and orphans, and volunteered at a microfinance firm.  The more we saw the relationship between community and the gospel, the more we realized that the furthermost people from God’s kingdom come when we meet them where they are, not from a place where we are comfortable.

There are a lot more things that God showed us through out our travels, but I think I will stop here.  If you would like to hear about some of the other things I learned, please feel free to contact me.  Thank you all so much for partnering with us as we traveled around the world.  We pray that our experiences Asia will continue to shape our thoughts and actions for a long time to come. Thank you, and God Bless.

An Uncomfortable Time

Walking out into the morning sunlight caught me off guard—my eyes hurt.  Tyler and I stepped out of the guesthouse door and turned right to walk to the T Nagger bus stand.  As we drew nearer to the main street the familiar sounds of Tuck Tucks, bus horns, and hawkers assaulted our ears.  “My friend, you want Tuck Tuck ride?” a local Indian man asked us.  We shook our heads and walked on.  At the main street we took a left, passing by the numerous carts and brushing off all of the venders.

The main street was packed with people already—I guess people in India don’t sleep in on a Saturday morning like Americans do.  My eyes still hurt, and the noise wasn’t helping.  They didn’t hurt because of the morning light, although it was a contributing factor.  They hurt from spending the past few days looking at a computer monitor for

Friendly Man On A Train

over six hours each day. Tyler

and I had spent the last week, which was the first week of three, working at Growing Opportunity in Chennai India. Growing Opportunity is a microfinance company under the umbrella organization, Opportunity International. During our time with Growing Opportunities we analyzed the potential spread of poverty in the greater Chennai area.

After walking for a few more minutes we crossed the intersection, guided by a traffic officer, and walked into the bus yard.  Using the directions from a woman at the Opportunity International office, we looked for our bus, which would take us to another bus, finally ending in Pondicherry.  The day trip was recommended (to us) because Pondicherry is a former French city and is know for having nice beaches.

It took a few minutes to locate the proper bus, but as soon as we spotted it towards the end of the lineup we jumped on.  It was empty. Tyler and I sat down in the back row, hoping any fellow riders wouldn’t try and bother us—something that would be no less than a miracle.

To say that India has been enjoyable and easy would be a blatant lie.  Throughout our travels the countries we visited got progressively harder, and India was the crème de la crème of tough experiences.

En route to the Indian border from Nepal, a man climbed on top of our bus and stole Tyler’s jacket. at the Indian border, four men threatened to kill us and take us back into Nepal; that night I got food poisoning on the train to New Delhi. The next day a crippled Dalit (member of the untouchable cast) crawled under my legs to clean the ground below my feet on the train.  Transportation wasn’t the only aspect of India that felt uncomfortable; the sheer number of people in close proximity to me, all of which had no problem staring at me for long periods of time, was almost unbearable.

The solitude Tyler and I experienced on the bus that morning didn’t last long.  Less than a minute after we sat down a small Indian girl jumped on the bus.  Her pink long sleeve shirt hand a brownish tint and when she brushed her tangled hair off her face it revealed a scar that cut across her cheek and ended at her nose.  She walked straight toward me.  Without hesitation she reached out, poked my arm, and then motioned towards her mouth. I looked away.  “Suh,” she said as she poked my arm again.

This was culture clash.  Being asked for food is normal. In America, it happens quite frequently. Back at home, if a transient asks for money, a simple, “I am sorry, but no,” will suffice.  But this is different; this is India.  In India beggars will follow you, begging for few minutes each.  In fact, over the past few days we had learned that saying “no” to a child beggar actually gives them courage, making them stay longer.  The best thing to do is just ignore them.

So that is what I did. I ignored her.  She stood there poking me, and I sat there ignoring her.  Seconds ticked to minutes.  My eyes still hurt and my soul felt horrible; I felt like the denial of the girl’s presence was to deny her humanity.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  After two minutes I finally looked at her in the eyes and said “No.”  She heard my reply, felt encouraged, and continued begging.  About this same time a young women with a small baby in her arms started calling my name, “suh,” from outside the bus window.  I did not want to be in India.

Growing Opportunity Field Office

In my head I know that my work at Growing Opportunity is the best way to help the poor in India.  When working with them I don’t have to worry that the money I give isn’t going to a modern day slave driver, like the one seen in Slumdog Millionaire. Microfinance is a great way to get people out of poverty; it empowers women, teaches them business skills, encourages saving, and provides group mentorship.  But what about the little girl?  Her needs are here and now. I want to believe that microfinancing ends the cycle of impoverished young woman, but I wonder, is this just something I say to myself in order to drown out the small yet persistent voice of the young girl?

The young girl continued to poke me for a few minutes until an Indian woman—the same woman who later hassled Tyler and I by claiming we were sitting in the women’s section—pulled her away from my knee and spoke to her harshly in Tamil.  The girl dropped her head and walked down the bus stairs, and dropped off  the step into the street.

Our Time In Cambodia

We crossed into Cambodia from Thailand by way of bus at the Poipet crossing.  The difference between Thailand and Cambodia is like the difference between San Diego and inner Tijuana.  Soon after the boarder—about one to two feet—the buildings turn to shoddy structures worn down from the tropical sun and the lands turn from lush rice fields interspersed between groves of tropical trees into a flooded wasteland.

After spending one glorious day running around the ancient temple ruins of Angkor Wat, we headed into Phnom Penh.  Our plans were to spend a day in the city and then connect with the orphanage we were volunteering with.  Unfortunately, our plans with the orphanage did not work out—God had other plans.  Prior to learning that we would not be able to work at the scheduled orphanage, Tyler had overheard some American girls chatting over their Bible study at a café.  It was so nice to hear and see other Americans discussing the Bible that we decided to introduce ourselves.  It turned out that the girls worked for an organization called Water of Life in Phnom Penh, which was conveniently located around the corner from the café.  They invited us back to the center in order to meet the director, Randy Fleming.  Randy’s center ministers to the Cambodian people in a few different ways. First, the actual building serves as an orphanage for young men from rural Cambodia who cannot afford to live in the city and support themselves during college. Second, Water of Life supports other orphanages by using its center as a music school, computer school, and English school—all of which are free.  They also support the orphanages by sponsoring a meal for a different orphanage each week at the Water of Life building in Phnom Penh.   Lastly, Water for Life runs outreach and medical clinics at the dump in Phnom Penh and in rural villages.  When the plans at our first orphanage didn’t work out, the gracious people at Water of Life welcomed us with open gates — every building in Phnom Penh has fences that run up to the roof of the buildings due to high crime.

For three weeks we lived at Water of Life (WOL) and from the very beginning we were folded into the community. Two hours after our initial arrival a local man showed up at WOL looking for English teachers.  Twenty minutes later we committed to teaching English to a bunch of local school kids every night for an hour.  So every night Tyler and I would walk four blocks down the road to the local school to teach alongside a local teacher.  One thing in particular struck me: how different teaching styles are in America and in Cambodia.  The major difference between classrooms in the US and classrooms in Cambodia is that classrooms in the US try to engage all students simultaneously.  In Cambodia teachers will spend the first hour of class asking each kid one question from the previous lesson; the problem is that while one kid is answering the question, the rest of the class is playing around.

Aside from teaching English, we played with kids at orphanages in the surrounding area, participated in a bible study every night, went on multiple outreach/medical clinic trips to the dump communities, visited a rural province to visit some missionaries, and hung out with the guys living at Water of Life.

Chén Thiy (Like Thai)

Most of the updates we sent focused on our experiences with the community and the global church.  Experiencing the global church in such a context was completely new and we wanted to devote all of our writing to it.  While we are still learning a lot about the global church, the most interesting part of Thailand is the culture.  Our time in Thailand taught us how different Thai traditions are from our own, and how deeply those traditions shape the Thai people. It is true, since leaving America we have experienced a host of new cultures.  For example, in China, spitting is perfectly acceptable; it doesn’t matter if you are in a subway, at a dinner table, or in a store, spitting anywhere is culturally normal. It is also acceptable for kids to go to the bathroom anywhere. Thai culture, however, was completely foreign.

Thai culture is riddled with customs that are so countercultural to the Western mind that we have a hard time understanding them—well, some of them.  The first lesson that Tyler and I had in Thai culture was in the Mochit Bus Terminal in Bangkok the day after we had arrived in Thailand.  That first day was mostly spent at our hostel in Bangkok writing the update for Indonesia and resting up for our 11 hour bus ride to Leong Nak Tha to visit our contact in the Peace core, Eric Hoeing.  Luckily for us, Eric had decided to take a trip back into Bangkok for some western food, allowing him to guide us back to his rural village.  Before jumping on our bus at Mochit Station Eric guided us to a local convenience store to pick up some Thai candy for his host parents.  As we checked out he explained that in Thai there is practice called Nam Jai. Nam Jai translates to “Water Heart,” and expresses the need for hearts to overflow with reciprocal kindness.  Since Eric’s host parents were going to be making us dinner a for a few nights, it was necessary for us to give them something because their heart water is being given to us through dinners and we need to give some back through candies.

While I admit that our first cultural lesson was not so difficult to understand, our second lesson was a bit more challenging.  If you have ever been to Thailand I am sure that you quickly learned about the “Head and Foot” principal.  If you haven’t, it is quite simple; in Thai culture the head is holy and the feet are dirty. Therefore, do not touch anyone’s head and do not point your feet at anyone because it is an insult.  It seemed simple enough to me when Eric described it to us on the bus.  So for the next few days we spent our time in rural Thailand living “con Thai,” or, like Thai.  We went on excursions through rice fields, randomly hiked with a Monk who wanted to show us the location of his future temple, and played soccer with all of the local school kids.

On our last night, the elderly women of the village invited us to come over to their yard for a traditional going away ceremony.  Everyone in the village has a square (8ft by 8ft), knee-high table in their front yard, or under their house.  The table, which is the designated napping, eating, or gathering spot for family and friends, served as the ceremony location. The ceremony boiled down to a few old women sitting on mats wrapping pieces of string around our wrists and wishing us a safe journey; it might not have seemed special to us, but a going away ceremony is very important to Thai culture.  As we walked over to the yard, Eric stressed the importance of order during the event.  With all the women assembled we sat down to begin.  Given that I am about as flexible as the bones beneath my skin, I opted out of sitting Indian style and sat with one leg tucked flat near my bottom and the other knee up with my foot on the mat.  Eric’s host mother, who had led us over to the event, quickly scolded me in Thai and pushed me knee down so that I would not offend the old women.  I am still not exactly sure how the head-foot principle works.

The Last, and perhaps most countercultural (at least to Americans) aspect of Thai culture is the concept of Greng Jai.  Greng Jai is a custom that is centered on non-confrontation and respect for social hierarchy.  To cause anyone to lose face, be shamed, or embarrassed in front of others would be going against Greng Jai.  The best way to explain this custom is to give a few hypothetical situations.  If I invited a friend to meet me at a movie at 9pm this Friday night, and if they did not want to go, the friend would still say yes.  However, once Friday night rolled around the friend would not show up on purpose.  The typical Western mind would find this quite frustrating, but in Thai culture this is Greng jai; the friend did not lie, they just did not want to hurt your feelings verbally.  To explain it another way, suppose I jumped in a cab and clearly saw a “No Eating” sign in the window.  If I asked the cab driver, “is it okay if I eat,” or if I just started eating, he would say that it was fine. The driver would not want to confront me so he would allow me to do what I wanted.  Lastly, Greng Jai can also be about respecting social hierarchy.  In Thai schools or in businesses, if the teacher or boss says to do something, even though it is counter productive or a bad idea, the students or workers cannot refute the teacher of boss because it would go against Greng Jai.

From talking with Eric, it seems like Greng Jai’s role in Thai culture has implications that reach into all aspects of society.  Its impact primarily reaches into concepts of leadership—individuals are not groomed into leadership roles, they are thrown into them; every Thai is so used to following the exact orders of all superiors, once a Thai is in a leadership role they do not know what to do because they are not used to making decisions.

Discomfort in India

By Tyler

World Wide Open Ambassador, Asia and Southeast Asia

Some things make me uncomfortable, sometimes these things are hard to explain, or hard to understand, but many of the things that make me feel uncomfortable make other people feel uncomfortable too.  What is being uncomfortable? Is it seeing something that affects you adversely, feeling something, hearing something, or tasting something?  Are things doubly uncomfortable when you experience two or more of the senses at a time?  Is being uncomfortable curable, or removable, can we change ourselves?  More importantly why do we seek comfortable circumstances?  Do we need them?  Can we live without them?  Are we under false impressions?  Are we pursuing the wrong things, therefore things that make us uncomfortable shouldn’t really be causing us to feel that way?

I am not really sure how to answer all the questions I just posed.  But I don know that I felt very uncomfortable during my time traveling in India.  I traveled from Nepal to India via bus, to Delhi via train, to Chandigarh via train, and to Chennai via train.  After arriving in Chennai I stayed there for two weeks. During this time my sense of smell was besieged by the varying smells of India.  The scent can change from one block to another, one block smelling like green curry the next smelling like outhouse.  My personal space was completely invaded on numerous occasions.  I saw things that tore my heart apart, but I could do little to alleviate the pain I saw.  I heard so much noise I thought I would explode.

There is one image that will stick with me forever.  On several occasions I saw a man groveling in the gutter, arms outstretched.  He was wrapped in a small traditional waist wrap, he had no fingers on his upraised hands, and his legs were gone from the knee down.  As I walked past, I tried not to stare, fearing eye contact would cause me to feel too much compassion, and too much guilt for not slowing down to help.  What could I do though?  And what would Jesus have done?  I couldn’t just grab the man up out of the road and carry him into a restaurant, plop him down in a seat and order him some food.  That would cross so many culture no no’s that I would certainly get myself into quite a pickle.  He wasn’t hungry looking anyways, he wasn’t like so many other people we saw who needed to eat much more than their current diet.  I should mention that many lame people are utilized by entrepreneurs to earn money because they get a lot of money for begging because of their infirmities.  This man appeared to be unable to help himself, so I assume he was cared for by someone in exchange for his gutter groveling daily lifestyle.  After arriving at my destination, whether it was the office, the hotel room, or a restaurant, my thoughts returned to this man.  I would wonder if he was still sitting in the gutter, still holding his hands up, fingerless, hoping to receive some comfort, some love.  In the relative comfort of my new settings away from the rush and ramble of the street where the man sat, I could ponder my place in his life, and his place in mine, yet I never did anything for him, other than rush past ignoring his pleas for money.

Nonetheless as I passed by my heart dropped out to my feet, and I felt as if I was an empty person for doing nothing for this man that seemed to be able to do nothing to help himself.  Walking by him again was hard to do, and I avoided any eye contact or even a prolonged glance.  My discomfort level raised up significantly every time I walked by this man. I wanted so bad to return to the office we were working in.  Or the sanctuary of our hotel room.  Anywhere that I would not have to see such pain, such anguish, and find myself unwilling, or unable to help.   Throwing money to alleviate guilt does very little to help the actual problem of poverty.  But doing nothing and passing by without a glance is inhuman, that man although his painful existence is hard take in visually, is a human soul, with human feelings, and he deserves the same respect that anyone else gets.

I came upon a verse in Isaiah 58 that feeds the desire in my heart to help, and I hope will inspire me to go outside myself and my comfort to help others who I see in need.  It reminds us that a fast is about putting ourselves and our agenda, and our feelings, and even our needs aside to help those in need.  Reading the whole of Isaiah 58 or the whole book for that matter is probably more beneficial, but here is just a few verses.  ‘Is this not the fast that I choose; to loose the bonds of weakness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and to bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked to cover him, and not hide yourself from your own flesh?’ (6-7)

WWO Ambassadors Introduction Video

Click the above link to watch the introduction video we taped for World Wide Open and this blog.  If this is your first time on the blog, feel free to look around and check out the links on the right hand side of the page.

– Brandon and Tyler

Papua, Indonesia Part II: Ramadan Festivals, “KGB” Churches and a Warm Goodbye

By Brandon and Tyler, WWO Ambassadors in Southeast Asia

Four months ago, I did not think/imagine that I would be hanging out with a bunch of break dancers in Papua. Four months ago I did not think/imagine that I would be driving a motorcycle to church in order to preach a sermon using a translator. Four months ago I did not think/imagine that I would be staying in a traditional fishing village on Sentani Lake with an old Papuan grandma. Four months ago I did not know that Papua was a part of Indonesia.

The day we arrived in Papua marked the start of Idul Fitri, which is the festival at the end of Muslim holiday of Ramadan.  Since Indonesia is predominately Muslim, Idul Fitri is a national holiday.  During Idul Fitri all Muslim families prepare huge amounts of food and serve it to guests who come to their house.  Due to the relationships that were formed during the Peace Camp (for more on the peace camp, see our previous post, Papua Part I), Jim and the rest of the camp kids were invited to two local Imam’s houses and then to six local families houses to partake in the festival.   On the second day of Idul Fitri, Tyler and I jumped into the back of a truck with a bunch of youths and headed to an Idul Fitri meal.  The Imam whose house we were visiting greeted Tyler and I like he had know us for years.  While eating he used Jim as interpreter to acknowledging that in a lot of Western movies Muslims are depicted as terrorists, and informing us that, like him,  most Muslims want peace.

A food offering

He then explained Ramadan and Idul Fitri.  According to him, both events are focused on forgiveness of sins.  During Ramadan Muslims fast to show remorse for their sin and during Idul Fitri Muslims try to achieve atonement by feeding others in their home.  If a family experiences misfortune throughout the year, it is believed that God is punishing them for being bad hosts during Idul Fitri. Even though we were white Americans and had never met them, all six of the households that we went to for dinner that night welcomed us into their home with unmatched grace and hospitality.  I think that I experienced more hospitality in that afternoon than many experience in a year’s time.  The perfectly memorable day was topped off by joining Jim at his prison ministry where we shared our testimonies.  Our time at the prison ended with 15 Papuan murderers and criminals laying hands on us to pray, which was quite a powerful experience.

During the rest of our stay in Papua we spent our time in a neighboring college city named Abepoura with members of the KGB church.  Tyler stayed with a young man named Dede and his wife and son, while I stayed with Ddhiya and his wife Helani.  Ddhayu and Helena are two of the main KGB church founders.  One night while sitting with Ddhiya he explained the focus of the KGB church.  Right now there are three main sectors of “religion.” On one side are the religious groups (Christians, Hindus, Muslims, etc) where members take part in formal worship and perform religious practices.  On the other side of the spectrum are the atheists and agnostics.  What is left on the spectrum is the gray area – people who believe a God but don’t feel like they fit in with any type of formal religion.   Ddhiya focuses on sharing the love of Christ with this people group.  In order to do so, KGB and many other Churches in Indonesia are based on a cell group structure, which are focused around a hobby, like break dancing, graffiti art, and hip hop.  The college girls at KGB also formed a cell group that teaches English to large groups of Muslim kids twice a week.

Pictured with the KGB Church

Aside from visiting all of the KGB cell groups, we went on a hike, visited a rural village, and ate a lot of food they because they wanted us to try it all.  During each event that we went to we were accompanied by a band of KGB college kids—we never went anywhere without a guide.  The perfect week in Papua was ended by a going away feast on Sunday night, when the whole church gathered to prepare their favorite dishes, including dog for Ddhayu.  Needless to say we were overwhelmed by a sense of love and community.

Papua, Indonesia Part I – Life with the Yosts: Motorcycle Rides, Street Concerts and Muslim/Christian Reconciliation

By Brandon and Tyler, WWO Ambassadors in Southeast Asia

Back when we were organizing our trip, Dr. Farhadian, a religious studies professor at Westmont, introduced us to Jim Yost in Papua.   Jim invited us to come and serve with him in Papua and proceeded to purchase our plane tickets from Jakarta to Papua on our behalf.   Without any expectations for Papua or a clue as to what we would do there, we boarded the plane in faith and prayed Jim would be there to pick us up in Papua.  Sure enough, he picked us up at the airport in Papua at 7 a.m. on his motorcycle.

Jim Yost has lived in Papua for the last 31 years.  He and his wife moved into the Papuan interior shortly after marriage, where they have raised their three daughters.  After living in a tribal village for sixteen years, Jim and the family moved out to Sentani, a city near Papua’s capital, Jayapura.  Since moving to Sentani, Jim has sought focus his work around three groups of people: Adults, Children, and Muslims. Adults in Papua face problems only experienced in very remote sections of the world.  In Jayapura and the surrounding costal area of Papua, about sixty percent of the population is made up of Papuan natives.  Of this sixty percent, most of them were born in the interior of Papua, which is still made up of tribal groups.  Right now, around 400 Papuans are moving out of the interior to costal Papua every day.  Imagine around 400 people going from the Stone Age to the information age overnight—it creates problems.  While the Papuan kids adapt relatively well, the adults don’t.  So, a part of Jim’s ministry is a prison outreach.

Jim Yost with young prisoners he mentors

A second thing Jim’s Church does is perform street concerts every other Friday night.  These street concerts benefit both the children and adults.  During the concerts adults are able to dance and watch music—something they are quite accustomed to from tribal life.  The concerts also benefit the kids because it presents a platform for introducing the gospel.  Though the kids do not have such a hard time adjusting to modern society, the generation gap formed by quickly adapting kids and slowly adapting adults makes it difficult for indigenous Papuan parents to control their kids.  Due to the lack of parental control, the kids often turn to drugs and alcohol.  While attending the Friday night concert ourselves, Tyler noticed a group of young men sniffing glue during the concert.  Jim also ministers to kids through the orphanage that is attached to his house.  The orphanage is entirely run by the kids.  They take turns making all the food and doing all the chores.

Tyler and friends reading the Bible in Papua

Lastly, Jim focuses on sharing the love of Christ with the local Muslim population.   Indonesia has the fourth largest total population in the world, and is the largest Muslim country in the world. Like Paul, who created a common ground with the Greeks by claiming that the God of the Bible was the “the unknown god” that had a monument in Greece, Jim ministers to the Muslims by creating a common ground.  About a year an a half ago Jim and other local churches organized a Peace Camp for the local Christian and Muslim kids.  The camp focused on breaking down stereotypes to see where the two faiths share common ground.  While this might seem like blasphemy to some Christians, I beg you to hold judgment for just a second.  From the relationships that grew out of this peace camp Jim has been able to start meeting with some of the local Imam – Muslim worship leaders – and encourages them to read the Bible in conjunction with the Koran.  Though the Koran calls all good Muslims to read the Torah, the Psalms, and the Gospels, many do not.  Once the Imams have read the Bible, they often fall in love with Jesus.

To watch a video of Jim Yost speaking at Westmont College chapel on 10/30/09 go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCwppHiUiJY&feature=related

Prayer Requests

By Brandon and Tyler, WWO Ambassadors in Southeast Asia

While I know that it may sound like Tyler and I are getting pampered at every turn, I hope you understand I am not trying to brag, but rather show you the ways in which Christ is humbling me.  To a certain degree, many of us in the Western world do not rely on God for our daily needs.  I am pleased to say that due to my own shortage of funding, I am getting to learn what it feels like to trust in God for financial provision.  Moreover, the ways in which individuals have provided for me are challenging the ways in which I view community.  To them, I am a brother in Christ and for that fact alone, they want to give me their food and their time.  For this I am grateful.

 

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, 'My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'" - Psalm 91:1-2

 

 

Please pray for:

1. Continual financial support

2. Our health.  Though we have are blessed to be rather healthy so far, I did enjoy a visit to the doctor

due to some digestive problems.

3. Our time in Cambodia.   We will be teaching English for HIV+ kids at an orphanage.

4. Travel Safety.

Bali: Pa Andy and Drug Rehabilitation in the Name of Jesus

Sunset Handstand in Bali

By Brandon and Tyler, WWO Ambassadors in Southeast Asia

Upon arrival in Bali, our new friend, Pa Andy picked us up from the airport. Pa Andy is a former Jakarta businessman and drug addict. During an 11 month stay in prison God grabbed a hold of his heart and called him to be a witness of Christ’s redeeming love to other drug users.  When Pa Andy was released from prison, he moved to Bali and opened up a group home for recovering addicts with his wife and newly born daughter. Since opening the group home, the Lord has provided Pa Andy a home and car for free through the grace of others.  Tyler and I had the honor of living in the group home.  All of the “kids” that currently live with Pa Andy are between the age of 20-30 and are HIV+.  In order to minister to all, Pa Andy introduces himself to Hindu and Muslim prostitutes on the street and to drug addicts who are either dying from Aids in the hospital or serving time in prison.  His goal is not to preach or evangelize, but rather love individuals and show them who Christ is.  Tyler and I witnessed this process in action when joined Pa Andy during his visit to a prison where Pa Andy teaches a drug seminar, and during his visit to a prostitute on the street at 11pm, and to a lifeguard while on duty at the state beach.

Perhaps one of the most humbling moments I have experienced was on our second night in Bali when Jojo (Yoko) and Vea shared their testimonies with us.  Both Jojo and Vea started doing Heroin when they were 13 years old.  Despite the fact that they had Aids, despite the fact that Jojo had killed his wife on accident by giving her too much heroine, neither Jojo or Vea felt any bitterness towards God or feel any regret; both were simply glad to experience a new type of community provided by Pa Andy, and wanted to share with others the peace and salvation found in Christ.