Day 19

Like many people do everyday, I was snooping around Facebook today and came across an exchange that one of my Korea-based friends was having with one of his America-based friends. The long and short of it was that the America-based friend was criticizing the Korea-based friend. 

...moving to another country overseas for an amount of time is cool, but for long term u should stick with your home turf. in this day in age and the crap goin on in the world, ur better off being in the states when the sh*t hits the fan.

To which, my friend replied: 

Tis just your opinion, mate. " ...in this day and age and the crap going on in the world". Spoken like a true, scared-by-the-media American. The world is fine, you should come visit it.

This is something that many people must deal with. Before moving to Korea, I had never been outside of North America. My world was pretty much one state --or at best-- one region. I had friends that had studied abroad, but I just never saw the allure of such an endeavor. I had another friend to whom I mentioned that he could consider teaching abroad for a year or two. His response?

No, man. I'm all about America. I love America.

Me, too. Now do you want to answer the question. You know, living abroad doesn't necessarily mean that one doesn't love their home nation. And further, it's possible to love more than one nation. America will always be my passion, but I also love Korea. In fact, I love many nations.


A couple years ago, I had a friend who was in somewhat of a Facebook debate with one of his online friends about how great America is. I didn't get involved, but still agreed with him that America is great. As the debate continued, he then moved on to an area that was a little more slippery for me. I'll paraphrase him.

I'm unapologetically proud to be an American. I've been to Europe and besides the architecture and museums, I refuse to believe that life is better anywhere else.

I'm also unapologetically proud to be an American, but a two week tour of Europe's tourist traps just doesn't give someone the right to make such a statement. That said, I understand where he's coming from. I've been living in Korea for quite awhile. I'm The Expat (or was) and with that comes a certain level of affection for my host country. Still, I'm choosing to move back to the US soon. My wife and I have decided that America would be a better place for us to raise our children. We both like the space that America offers and, to be honest, the Little League baseball coaching scene is better in the US than in Korea. 


And even though we have made that decision, I have plenty of friends here that have decided that Korea is a better place for them. Some of them already have children and are settling in for the long run. Korea has its perks as well. They have an excellent health care system, superb gun laws and an education system that actually demands something of its students. There's always a silver lining even if you refuse to acknowledge it. 


One of the finest lessons I've learned in my time in Korea is that being a minority is harder than you think. I'm an English teacher and, as such, I have to deal with being stereotyped. My wife and I will occasionally get angry stares in public. Sometimes people will assume that I use drugs or that I the only reason I came to Korea was to marry a Korean women because I couldn't find an American girl. At first, I was angered by it. How dare they judge me, right? Wrong. That's what majorities do. They group minorities together so as to define them. There might be some stereotypes of me out there, but I live very well in Korea considering. 


I've been hearing some chatter that white American males are feeling oppressed these days. In fact, a Men's Studies program has been started at Wagner University to dispel those nasty rumors that Women's Studies students have been claiming. Right. Those poor white men who earn more money and occupy more tops jobs than any other demographic. Just because the president is black doesn't mean you're oppressed. If you --and by that I mean white men in general-- believe that this is oppression, I'd say it's time to grow some thicker skin. The  minorities in America are tough, dedicated people who truly know what oppression is yet believe so firmly in the American Dream --whatever that might be-- that they endure it. 


To that end, I'd like to share with you the introduction of Blake's Songs of Innocence.


Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:

"Pipe a song about a Lamb!"
So I piped with merry chear.
"Piper, pipe that song again"
So I piped, he wept to hear.

"Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy chear-
So I sung the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear.

"Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book, that all may read."
So he vanish'd from my sight,
And I pluck'd a hollow reed,

And I made a rural pen,
And I stain'd the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
Every child may joy to hear.


You know the message: the more we experience, the more we lose our innocence. In the case of the two Facebook claims above, I feel that both posters were speaking not out of experience, but out of innocence. I chose to say "innocence" rather than "ignorance" for a reason, though. Simply put, ignorance is a lack of knowledge and I would not call those two posters ignorant --they're not. I will say that they are innocently ignorant. Without experiencing the rest of the world, how does that fellow know that "ur better off being in the states when the sh*t hits the fan"? How can we be so sure that we can flatly "refuse to believe that life is better anywhere else"? We can't and we shouldn't.


The same can be said about religion. Last month I was a Buddhist and for the next ten months, I will continue to live and briefly experience life as a practitioner of different religions. I will not, however, make statements that one is better than the other. After all, most people spend their entire life studying their respective religion. I will not ever have that privilege, but I can tell you which one works best for me. If I choose one at the end of this ride it does not mean that I chose the best one, nor does it mean the followers of the other religions will perish in a "hell". 


The Catholic Church has experience. It's the wise old man of Christianity. The CCC tells us this:

The Catholic Church recognizes in other religions that search, among shadows and images, for the God who is unknown yet near since he gives life and breath and all things and wants all men to be saved. Thus, the Church considers all goodness and truth found in these religions as "a preparation for the Gospel and given by him who enlightens all men that they may at length have life.

That certainly does not say that other religions are wrong. Rather, it makes the case that all non-Christian are trying to find their way to God. This is pretty level-headed of the Church and one that I'm happy to read. Even though the Bible makes it clear that once you've heard the Gospel then you are responsible for it, I find this message of tolerance very appealing. Ultimately, however, it must claim dominion, but it does so in a tasteful way.

To reunite all his children, scattered and led astray by sin, the Father willed to call the whole of humanity together into his Son's Church. The Church is the place where humanity must rediscover its unity and salvation. The Church is "the world reconciled." She is that bark which "in the full sail of the Lord's cross, by the breath of the Holy Spirit, navigates safely in this world." According to another image dear to the Church Fathers, she is prefigured by Noah's ark, which alone saves from the flood.

Living abroad has allowed me to meet many wonderful people from all over the world. They all live happily in their respective home nations and in many others. They have their own set of beliefs and want many different things out of life. My way is not their way. My religion is not their religion and even though I have fallen into the trap of superiority many times, I know that my way is just that. 


Some people happen to be born in Afghanistan and are raised Muslim. As a Catholic, they are recognized as fellow children of Abraham.

The plan of salvation also includes those who acknowledge the Creator, in the first place amongst whom are the Muslims; these profess to hold the faith of Abraham, and together with us they adore the one, merciful God, mankind's judge on the last day.

That is not their fault as perhaps some god or God willed it to be that way. If I were to be born in Israel tomorrow, I would be raised a Jew.

The Jewish faith, unlike other non-Christian religions, is already a response to God's revelation in the Old Covenant. To the Jews "belong the sonship, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and of their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ, for the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable. 

If I was born in Tibet or India, the same would apply.  

All nations form but one community. This is so because all stem from the one stock which God created to people the entire earth, and also because all share a common destiny, namely God. His providence, evident goodness, and saving designs extend to all against the day when the elect are gathered together in the holy city. . .

For me, it's hard to swallow the pill that "outside the Church, there is no salvation" because I refuse to believe that the American Dream can only be experienced in America. To that, I guess, I have one thing to say: The world and everything in it is simply amazing. Experience it with an open mind. 


Don't limit yourself to willful innocence.

Day 18

I walked into the office today only to be handed a telephone. It wasn't the first time this had happened and judging by the expression on the tasked secretary's face, it appeared that the reasoning was the same as usual: a sick teacher calling to inform me that he or she is so ill that braving the streets would only lead to a certain death. When I first started my position as a "boss", I enjoyed the authority. It was fun seeing people act a certain way around me only because my title told them they should. Just like when students make up elaborate excuses (it's amazing how many family members get sick on the same day), I have the joy of determining how honest a sickness or an excuse really is. 


As a recovering lazy-ass myself, I'm pretty sure I exhausted the realm of sickness deception many times over. I used deaths, car accidents, diarrhea, rare illnesses, religion, legal troubles and just about every other disgusting kind of excuse all so I can stay at home and earn less money. I like to think that I have a knack for identifying bogus illnesses and excuses. On the other end of the phone today was a teacher with pink eye. He believed it to be a full-proof excuse, but when kids are out of the picture, pink eye isn't that bad. And therein lies my problem. Regardless of its validity, a viewed his "pink eye" as one of many interchangeable illnesses that are offered as an excuse to stay at home. Not once while talking to him did I consider that maybe he actually did have pink eye. I was simply sniffing around his story looking for holes. In short, I have become fatigued. My overuse of and overexposure to fraudulent claims of sickness have tired me so that I am indifferent to employees who get sick. I had no compassion for his situation.


Enter Christianity.


The compassion pouring from the souls of devout Christian followers is undeniable. No other religion in the world puts its own golden rule into practice more than Christians do. Christian missionaries have been traveling the world since the time of Paul all the way up to the Jesuits who kept the ball rolling well into the 19th Century. 

Go throughout the whole world and preach the gospel to all people. -Mark 16:15

Compassion is, of course, an integral part of missions, but there are many people who might disagree. I used to be one of those people. I viewed mission work more as conquest, colonialism, destruction of culture and nature, and regional oppression. Compassion just didn't do it for me. You might be confused by this. If you recall the story about the remorse I felt after accidentally causing the death of an ant, you would think that compassion is deeply ingrained in my spirit and in a way you'd be partly correct.


I have always had compassion for the helpless, but I'm coming to realize how easy it is to exhaust that well. Everyday I turn on the television and see extreme suffering. The suffering from the earthquakes in Haiti and China was plastered on every screen all over the world. The continued famine and poverty in North Korea makes it into my living room daily and, of course, the unrelated but devastating maritime disasters in the Yellow Sea and the Gulf of Mexico have kept most of us on this peninsula pretty drained. Couple the problems in the real world with the fact that people find entertainment value in movies and television programs depicting human suffering and it's no surprise that while people are naturally compassionate, we see little of it practiced. 


I've been spending a lot of time looking at this:





Of course, the actual crucifixion was much more disturbing, but it brings me to my main point. Some people see the execution of Jesus as a fulfillment of His promise. And they're right.  Jesus predicted his death and without it, he could not have risen from the dead thus confirming his claims. The continuing use of this image, however, presents humans with two paths. 


We could lump it in with all the other images of death and human suffering that we see everywhere we look. Or we could use it as a springboard to help others. Here's the difference for me.









This image irks me deeply. It stirs an emotion deep within, however, I'm not sure how to act on it. Do I get depressed or should I educate? Perhaps I can pass laws to make sure this doesn't happen again. Honestly, I feel anger. I'm angry at the white crowd who believed it was their right to do this.

This one of a Chinese-tortured member of the Falun Gong makes me hope for bad things to happen to the Chinese government and even some of its people. It's torture for sure and the Chinese government has been known to execute members for practicing their beliefs. Someone should pay, right?

Neither of these images of death and torture inspire compassion. Sure, I feel extreme guilt and sympathy for anyone in a situation like this, but my physical reaction is one of anger. However, when I see Jesus on the cross, I feel total and pure compassion. I can feel his compassion for us. I can feel God's love and I can feel the true message of love. For many years, I thought that the Crucifix was there for guilt and considering that many contemporary churches are opting for the more positive vibe during service by getting rid of the Crucifix, it's clear that I was not the only one. 

Nonetheless, the Catholic church has remained steadfast in its use and for that I deeply applaud them. The brutal execution of Christ might make some feel guilty for their sins, but the image of that day should not. Maybe I'm alone on this, but when I see Jesus on that cross, I feel the warmth of his love and the desire to serve my fellow man. I don't feel angry or litigious, nor do I feel wrathful or vengeful. I feel pure. The Crucifix is a reminder to those who are overwhelmed by images of suffering to the point of fatigue that we still have something in us. There's still a spark of compassion within each of us that is untapped and ready to share with the world.

Day 17

Do you know God? Probably not too well, but if you grew up in a Judeo-Christian society, you certainly know something about him. For people who grew up in such a society, why, then, are we still debating this? Or more specifically...


Why do so many people feel that they can define God?


Living in Korea presents a few challenges for an American such as myself and for the sake of this conversation, I'll save you the list and just say that television is one of them. Like many of my expats brothers and sisters, we do not and will not ever like Korean television. Language aside, Korean teevee is the stereotype of Asian programming. It's like western programming on steroids. Or cocaine. Or speed. Or something that will amplify the mood and make a seemingly mundane situation much more intense. The "dramas" have long abandoned the  quintessential love triangle for the heptagon; the "animal shows" prefer scaring animals rather than showing them being cute; the news reeks of government regulation and the game shows, well, they're beyond description. Just think midnight public access mixed with heavy drinking and a touch of ether meant for an audience of eight graders.


It's not that bad really, but I personally can't handle it most of the time. (Japan and SE Asia, on the other hand, love it, so it's obviously doing something right.) Therefore, I'm left with the scraps of American television that Korea has, for one reason or another, deemed worthy of being aired. And on this particular afternoon, I happened to sit down next to my wife while she was watching Tyra. Personally, I think Tyra is a joke. Never does she offer a shred of decent advice, nor does she know what she's talking about. She's pretty much just a low-rent Oprah. 


Either way, the show was about homosexuality, Heaven and Christianity. I personally don't want to waste my time on this topic, but what I did find interesting is this: At the end of the show, Tyra was giving a monologue of sorts. With the entire audience intently listening and the camera framing her face alone, she said this (and I'm paraphrasing):

"God does not care if you are gay or straight or bisexual. As long as you are a good and caring person, then you will be rewarded with Heaven."

The pastor on the show was visibly aggravated as the audience ate it up. Somehow, Tyra had become the authority on God and his admission policies into Heaven. No one complained about her possible misrepresentation of God because it makes most people feel good about their own lives, but imagine is she said something more extreme or even --dare I say-- Biblical? I'm not naive enough to assume that Tyra was going to allow the pastor to have the final word and am under no illusions as to why people invite men of the cloth to discuss such topics, but this was glaringly out of her league. 


The God of the Bible is pretty clearly defined by its words, yet you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who has not offered themselves or others an alternative version of God that suits their own selfish needs. I know that I am certainly guilty of such a thing as my desire to offer solace to others often leads me to it. Tyra was doing the same thing. Putting aside the fact that the fallout she would experience from condemning a gay guest on air, it was her natural instinct to put a positive spin on a thorny issue between the Church and mainstream society.


Heaven also gets its fair share of individual interpretation. Take the Talking Heads for instance...





Everyone is trying to get to the bar.
The name of the bar, the bar is called Heaven.
The band in Heaven plays my favorite song.
They play it once again, they play it all night long.


Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.
Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.


There is a party, everyone is there.
Everyone will leave at exactly the same time.
Its hard to imagine that nothing at all
could be so exciting, and so much fun.

Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.
Heaven is a place where nothing ever happens.

When this kiss is over it will start again.
It will not be any different, it will be exactly
the same.
It's hard to imagine that nothing at all
could be so exciting, could be so much fun.

Heaven is a place where nothing every happens.


Sounds like a great place and this song actually molded my interpretation of what Heaven might actually be like, but is that a good thing? How about this?





Is that harmful? And this one?





Classic. Or this?





And this one?





Which one is right? Does that even matter? The heaven described in the Bible sounds joyous as well, but since there is no official picture of Heaven, my mind is forced to create an image and that image is also tainted by my own personal opinion and definition of it. Now, in the case of imagining Heaven, I don't think there's much danger there. However, we can extend this lesson beyond the Bible, God and Heaven. People constantly mis-define things for numerous reasons. I poorly define things and people all the time because it's usually easier for me to redefine them than it is for me to adjust my life according to the facts or reality. 


Some things that I intentionally ignore or redefine are harmless and others are more serious. Compiling a list is far too daunting for this post. So, how serious is redefining God and Heaven? I don't know, but 1 Peter 4:18 (and Proverbs 11:31) tells me this:

It is difficult for good people to be saved; what, then, will become of godless sinners?

I don't know if a minor redefining of God or Heaven will cast one into the world of godlessness and sin, but refusing to be honest with yourself and those you love is going to cause many, many problems in this world and the next.

Keep walking on straight paths, so that the lame foot may not be disabled, but instead be healed. -Hebrews 12:13

Day 16

In Christianity there's much discussion about the heart and love. "God is love" and "Open your heart to Jesus" are some big ones that I often hear in and around the Catholic (and Christian) community.  Yesterday, I thought that was just something that was said. I never really felt it and it honestly irritated me. Today, however, I felt the love that Jesus has offered.


Why has it taken this long?


And by that I don't mean 16 days. I mean, why has it taken me a Christian upbringing; a baptism; a confirmation; a very devout sister and several readings of the New Testament to finally come to this glaringly obvious conclusion?

Simply put: People.

People ruined Christianity for me. But, perhaps ironically, it's also people who have allowed me to discover the true joy of the religion. Let me explain.

Growing up, church was a chore. I didn't like it and never ever wanted to go. Once there, I always had a decent time, but not because of religious experiences or devout people. Rather, I liked it because I had a few friends in my Sunday school classes. As I grew up, the realities of southern Christianity started to reveal themselves to me. More times than not, my interactions with southern Christians were not particularly rewarding. They seemed to care about being seen at church rather than developing their relationship with the Lord. For them, church was no different than going to Steeplechase. It was time to dress and act the part. It was --for lack of a better word-- a social event. 



Just look at those hats. These girls spent big bucks acting and dressing the part of Steeplechase. They are also the people who packed the pews on Sunday morning with their finest and newest threads. Honestly though, what's the big deal? Judging their spiritual connection to God was wrong, but I did it. Also, not all southern Christians are like that. Still, my experience was what it was. My Nashville church was rich, white and about as stereotypically waspy as one could imagine. We are all students of our surroundings and this is what I was offered. My cynism might have started there, but it certainly didn't stop there.

My private high school describes itself like this:




Everyday I was required to attend "Chapel". There, we were forced to partake in group prayers and listen to testimonials of how Christ reshaped my classmates' lost teenage souls. I remember thinking to myself how weak those people were. Even the slightest bit of discomfort would force them to weep like repenting evangelists. The whole thing smacked of desperation and the desire to fit the mold of what a private Christian school student should be. At least, that's what I thought then and it really shouldn't come as much of a surprise to those who knew me. I prescribed to the "Tune in, turn on, drop out" lifestyle which essentially was an odd little religion unto itself.

Like every great religion of the past we seek to find the divinity within and to express this revelation in a life of glorification and the worship of God. These ancient goals we define in the metaphor of the present — turn on, tune in, drop out.  -Timothy Leary

It's funny to read that now. We all get caught up when we "find something going on" and mine just happened to be this. By the time I got to college I had pretty much had exhausted all my "anti" energy. I didn't care anymore. It took the reelection of George W. Bush to get me going again which, of course, brought me to my next chapter of distrust and disgust of Christianity: the religious right. 


During the Bush years, ultra-conservative Christianity was so infused with politics that even considering a serious investment in the religion meant that I had to deal with the ultra-conservative congregation. Even if that wasn't true, I believed it. 2008 only made it worse as the torch was passed to Sarah Palin and others of the same ilk. The American politicization of the religion made me --a relative outsider-- have a jaded opinion of the religion and its followers. The silent majority of Christians were lost in all the shouting. Their message of love, compassion and forgiveness was muffled. In short, I heard "God hates fags" rather than "God is love". I could have sought a deeper meaning and that was my loss for sure, but it was also the loss of the Church for allowing such ambassadors of the religion to take full control of the  pulpit. 


It wasn't until today that I allowed myself to see the true beauty of the religion and its followers. The love that they share with God might not be the best thing for me at this particular moment, but it's absolutely pure. They genuinely love each other. They love their fellow children of God and they love the non-believer. The love they loved and they love the hated. I can use some of that love and I know that my marriage could benefit from it as well. Unconditional love and compassion is what its all about. That's a message that works on every level of life. 


God has that love for his children and I can have that love for the people in my life. No more will I judge people for being Christian. No more will I question their motives. Love is beautiful and pure and I think if more people (especially non-Christians) spent a little more time with the people and less time on the details or politics, then that love --His love-- can spread.


Time to let it in...or out.

Day 15

I was browsing at the local bookstore this morning and came across a fascinating book. No, it wasn't the Pope's Jesus of Nazareth which I was intending to buy, nor was it Going Rogue which I intended to poop on. It was actually The Lifetime Reading Plan. Apparently, it's been around for decades and somehow I've managed to overlook it. It basically presents a list of the best works of literature ever written. I've read a handful of those listed already, but realized a simple fact: I'm not well-read.


Sure, I've spent the last ten years cramming as much non-fiction into my brain as possible, but when it came to literature, I simply scoffed. Why would I want to read something that I can't discuss in a modern and practical forum? The answer to this question simple: I'm a Millennial and as such, I pursue only the most gratifying of endeavors. In my life, I have preferred the movie to the book; the email to the letter, the headlines to the coverage and the blogs to the papers. Tweets and Facebook status updates have only perpetuated the problem and now even bloggers are become somewhat outdated and old. Not only do I think this could be the demise of American ingenuity and leadership, but in the face of such global competition (namely in Asia), it appears to be becoming a reality sooner than expected. 


I can't do a thing to stop this. It's not my job to tell others what to do and how to live. When I have children I can boss them around a bit, but even then, forces outside the household will wield much more power than a mother and father's advice. I can, however, control myself and I have decided to spend more time reading the great minds of this beautiful world than pittling away time on repetitive opinion blogs and meaningless political feuding. At this point, I have finished the New Testament and made a major dent in the Deuterocanonicals. I will continue reading every bit that I can before the month is out. I really enjoyed the New Testament and found a whole new appreciation for Paul and am looking forward to reading much more over the next two weeks. 


Back to the literature though, I have decided to start with Walden and Civil Disobedience. I read both of these years ago, but didn't truly appreciate them. After the bookstore, my wife and I loaded up the scooter and headed back to the riverbanks of the Han. It was an excellent day as the temperature was perfectly balanced out by the gentle breeze blowing in from the Yellow Sea. We read, tanned, napped, played, drank a little beer, listened to some tunes and, of course, waxed about Christianity and the Church.


One of the pleasures of manhood is the ability to pee anywhere. Peeing while driving is probably the best perk, though. Last December, my wife and I were cruising across the American West and I used the Gatorade method dozens of times. 

                       I was actually peeing in this picture.  

So when I needed to pee today, all I had to do was casually silk into the brush and make my ammonia offering to the river gods. I even did the soccer player half-stretch pee a couple times. My wife, on the other hand, usually doesn't have that luxury. I guess she could squat in the brush as well, but most Korean women don't partake in such behavior in public. When her time came, she had to walk to the bathrooms which, honestly, isn't much cleaner that the brush. 


While she was gone, a few curious souls ventured down to our spot on the beach. Most of them were intrigued by the tents, but some just wanted to see what a foreigner was doing on the beach with an unusual dog --that being my mutt. One gentlemen ventured over and told me that I was "cool". I mostly agreed. In fact, I was very cool. Simple mistake. A few moments after that, another gentlemen strolled up with his three-year old daughter. Some Koreans want to teach their kids that foreigners and/or big dogs are friendly. From a distance, I could tell that he was clearly smiling, but as he got closer his grin turned into a scowl. 


He surveyed our tents and didn't like what he saw. He went a step further and picked up his daughter while taking a nonchalant gander into the tent. Inside was a sleeping bag, some books and a backpack full of snacks and other time-killers. His face went from scowl to full-blown disbelief with a hint of anger.

"You live here?" he asked.

"Haha! No. My wife and I are just enjoying the day," I replied, but he clearly didn't understand what I had said. 

"So, you sleep here usually?" 

"No. We are here for the day. It's a nice day outside, isn't it?" I said slowly and clearly.

I was getting a little tired of the exchange at this point, but I kept it friendly. He, however, was not convinced that I was on the up-and-up. He took a few more awkward steps towards me. He wasn't squaring up in the least, but it did seem a little O.K. Corral-ish. He walked past the first tent and on to our canopy tent where he proceeded to survey the items resting on the ground. His eyes slowly scanned each item and then almost out of nowhere, he kindly told me to have a great day, put his daughter down, bowed a little Korean bow and merrily went on his way. 


What had happened?


From what I can tell, while he was scanning my items for illegal paraphernalia that would fit his stereotypes of what activities foreigners should be engaging in, he stumbled across the Bible. Upon seeing the Bible, his framing of me changed and he decided that I was in fact NOT  living or sleeping on the banks of Han. He also found it safe to put his daughter down and continue with his day in the park. This is absurd. 


Of course, I wasn't doing anything wrong anyways and perhaps he realized that, but the timing of his turn-around and his identification of the Bible are very suspicious. People blindly seem to trust other because they have a Bible in their hand. Just look at George W. Bush and Sarah Palin. They are loved by the Right for the sole reason that they claim to thump the Bible. In Palin's case, all she needs is an derrick, a gun, a Downs baby and a Bible and then she's a hero. Have people lost their senses so much that simple markers like owning a Bible or having a certain bumper-sticker can alter ones own better judgement?


I'm a solid liberal Democrat, but there are plenty that I don't like or trust. Same goes for Americans. I'm fiercely proud to be an American, but I also am terrified of crazies like Sarah Palin and Jim Demint. Pat Robertson should be thrown into an attic along with Glenn Beck and all the other nut jobs out there, yet people trust them because they have a loosely defined connection to something. 


A guy with a Bible or cross necklace should not be excused from shady behavior. Mark 13: 33-37 tells us to be watchful and vigilant. I think it's solid advice. 

Day 14

My dream had just wrapped up. From what I recall, most of it took place in an open kitchen with walls of windows in ever direction. It was very bright and just outside those windows were tall ferns much like the ones I loved so much many years ago in Cambodia. I was walking around the marble island in the center of kitchen with an open book in my hand. Sitting at that island was the entire cast of the original Beverly Hills 90210. It was whole gang plus that one guy in the cowboy hat who accidentally shot himself while goofing off with pistol. You remember him. 


Either way, I was teaching them something and remember getting into a bit of a spit with Steve. I can't say what we were arguing about, but I know that it had something to do with the fact that he borrowed my old 1989 Chevy Blazer and didn't tell me or something like that. This argument got pretty heated and ultimately jostled me from my sleep. I tried to re-enter the dream, but it didn't work. 


I sat up and looked at the clock. It was 4:10. I didn't have to pee that badly, but got up anyways. The bathroom floor was so cold and still a little damp from the nightly showers. I did my business and headed back to the bedroom. I couldn't see much, but recognized a dark blob on my pillow. This was not an unusual sight. My dog, Bear, usually falls asleep at the foot of the bed, but as the night progresses, he slowly inches his way up to our heads. When I go to the bathroom, that's his cue to move up. He not only moves up but he plops his entire brown body right on my pillow. You might think that I push him off or snap at him and you'd be wrong. I let him be. I might try to sneak my head on the pillow with him, but oftentimes I let him have it. After all, he waited patiently for that spot, so it's only fair that he gets it for awhile.


The bottom line is that my dog is my equal. He has the same rights I do. When my wife and I plan a day out, Bear is going to be with us. We routinely reject activities and ideas that don't include Bear. Luckily, most dog owners are like us. The dog is a member of the family. My first dog was named Boston. He was a lab-spaniel mutt. I was a little young to appreciate him, but he was our family dog until he passed at the age of eighteen. I was ten. It was sad, of course, but it was the first time I had dealt with death. It didn't hurt that much. Six months later, we got a new dog. She was a black lab mutt. She was my first dog and immediate best friend. A few years later we found a starving English-pointer mutt on the Natches Trace and decided to keep him. Now, seventeen years later, the black lab has died leaving only the pointer. 


In college, my roommate had a beagle that contracted parvo and had to be put to sleep. I had another roommate who had a great dog named Amos. He was a Shepard-lab mutt. He was an amazing fur. My sister also has two great dogs that I got very close to in 2005. I miss them. In Korea, my wife and I had a beagle as well that contracted parvo and distemper. We had to put her to sleep. That one really hurt. Luckily I had a great friend who helped me illegally bury her (Korea prefers the trash). I miss that dog and that guy. Now, I have the greatest dog ever.

Including that fur, I've been close to about ten dogs in my lifetime and there will be plenty more. When I die, I want to see them all. I know that Christianity is pretty tough on its soul policy, though. Nowhere in the Catechism of the Catholic Church does it flatly say that "animals do not got to heaven". However, the Bible is pretty clear that since animals don't have the intelligence to choose to follow God's will or its own, then it's not responsible for it. Furthermore, only humans have immortal souls and if that wasn't enough, the Church would never ever baptize my dog. It seems like it's stacked against our pets.


My gut reaction is what many people also believe: If my pet isn't in heaven with me, then it isn't heaven. 


Here are my thoughts against animals in heaven:

• God could add animals in heaven, but it would only be visions of them. Do I want that?
• Heaven is a very misunderstood state and one that people envision very differently. If people reach heaven, my thinking is that the absence of pets won't change much.
• If animals are in heaven because people loved them, then can't animals also be in hell because people hate them? Sorry sharks...
• Shouldn't people be spending more time worrying about themselves getting into heaven?
• Refusing to go to heaven because your dog won't be there sounds a little like your making your dog more important than God. 
• Animals are of the earth and concerning oneself with earthly things isn't what God wanted us to do.

Here are my thoughts for animals in heaven:

• Are we sure that animals don't have souls?
• The CCC offers some hope:

1047 The visible universe, then, is itself destined to be transformed, "so that the world itself, restored to its original state, facing no further obstacles, should be at the service of the just," sharing their glorification in the risen Jesus Christ.

• Romans 8:18-23 says that "All of creation waits with eager longing for God to reveal his children."  I'm pretty sure "all of creation" includes my dogs.
• Revelations 21 tells me that there's going to be a new heaven and earth.  Could this new heaven be a little more dog friendly?
• Sure, dogs aren't baptized, but they also didn't descend from Adam and Eve. They don't need to be washed of their original sin.
• St. Rock was saved by a dog. I'm pretty sure he's in heaven lobbying God for dogs.
• Seriously, what's the big deal? 

It looks like the Church is pretty strict on this one. Maybe if the Pope and other Church leaders took the time to have some pets, then they'd reconsider their position. After all, why split up a family? 

Day 13

One of my good buds from college was a Religious Studies major. In fact, he ended up earning an MA in it, but has since taken to teaching high school kids because the lecturer market has tightened so much recently.  I remember he took a class with a professor from sub-Sahara Africa. His name was Dr.---Man, I can't remember, but I want to say Dr. Kiko. Either way, he's not there anymore I'm sure.  Nonetheless, he taught African regional religions and focused a lot on common sense --much like Buddhism does. He would call students one of two things. If they came to class and participated, they would be called "Wisdom Kings" and "Wisdom Queens". However, the students who chose to skip the class were referred to simply as "foolish".


My friend claimed that he was always called a Wisdom King and I'd believe it. He was pretty well grounded even if he did look like an Irish Jesus. If I was in the class, I would have been called "foolish". Even with perfect attendance, I firmly believe that I was then and still am a bit "foolish". Dr. Kiko would have had fun with me. 


To prove my foolishness, I'd like to share a story. First of all, I'd like to say that my current profession is full of foolishness. I won't say that I'm surrounded by actual fools --that would be unfair-- but I can say that I'm surrounded by people who do perfectly foolish things.  For instance, the moment I arrived at the office today, my manager pulled me into to her office. On her desk was a piece of paper that was titled, "Monkey Business: Korean Room Salons". I had read the article already and knew that if it was sitting on the desk of my manager that some genius teacher had decided that it would be a good topic for their discussion classes. 

Room salons in Korea are quite interesting to discuss with friends, family or perhaps even colleagues, but it just doesn't work in a language class. Explaining sex act terminology to groups of low-level English speakers is a disaster waiting to happen and, in this particular class, most students demanded refunds or to be switched to another class. That's a headache for management. It damages our reputation and pretty much forces me to have a sit-down discussion about ethics and professional responsibility with people who should damn well know better.

"So, tell me about the room salon class," I started.

"The students chose the topic. I gave them five options," he confidently chimed back as if he was expecting such a reaction.

"Fine, but you still chose to include that one as one of the options."

"Yeah, I didn't read the whole article before."

"Wouldn't that have been a good idea? You know, just in case some overly crass language was included."

He was now looking down at his Ipad rather than at me. Weak, rude and cowardly.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry."

And that is how it goes in the wonderful world of managing foolishness. I make my case. They hear it; deny it and then ignore it. Not that I want to, but I can easily can them and if I employed Korean management styles to such a situation, this fellow would be packing his bags for California. I don't though. I try to be understanding considering the fact that being fired from an English teaching gig doesn't simply mean rewording your resume. Immigration has to get involved as do landlords, housing managers, directors, banks and a laundry list of other people.After my super successful meeting with this guy, I needed to discuss it further with my boss. She, however, is pretty busy and our schedules never seem to match-up, so when I saw her in the hallway I decided to have a little walk-and-talk with her. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, but this time it didn't go as smoothly.

"Alright, I talked to ________ and he said--"

Just as I said his name, he popped up from around the corner. He had heard the first part of our impromptu conversation about him. Not only that, but he was walking up the same hall we were walking down. I had to either end the conversation or continue on. I ended it, but my silence was so damn awkward and forced that we all ended up losing in this situation. I was extremely foolish not to wait until the proper time and place was afforded to us to discuss such a situation. Now, I feel like I'm a brown-noser trying to shit on my teachers rather than stick up for them. I should have kept my mouth shut and waited.

"After all, even fools may be thought wise and intelligent if they stay quiet and keep their mouths shut. -Proverbs 17:28