The Gospel of the Overpass

Somewhere in a corner in Kowloon, there's a flyover that marks the boundary between Sham Shui Po and Tai Kok Tsui. In this dark lane, sandwiched between a park and funeral parlour three of our friends live. Sadly recently, three became two. On Monday, a funeral was held for Ah Sing, the oldest of the trio.

For Michelle and I, Ah Sing's funeral was one of the most inspiring and moving memorials we've ever attended. On a hot and muggy evening, twenty-five odd Christians gathered by the overpass to pay respects to the homeless man who passed. Some knew him only briefly. Others hadn't even met him at all. But all were there to honour the life of a man who had endured life so valiantly.

Not much was known about Ah Sing. For most of us, he was a man who sat in a wheelchair by the park who wore a gracious smile but lived a guarded life. For a few years now his health had been failing, his knee and hip shrivelling until he painfully lost the ability to walk. Having been confined to his wheelchair, he spent most of his time drunk in efforts to numb the pain.

Yet for his troubles and humble life, this was a dignified funeral. It was the gospel come to life. There by the overpass the Spirit was palpable and thick as if Jesus was present in that very place declaring to this broken city that his very heart was there, with the poor and needy. We sang, we cried, we laughed, we listened, and remembered the life lost. We celebrated because any life lived is a valuable one nonetheless. And here in a society that pushes the invisible to its corners, we the church gathered to declare that these lives were seen and their stories would be heard.

The most powerful testimony would come from a 16 year old girl who had befriended the trio. She talked about Ah Sing's hardiness and his stubborn drive to live. Then she paused and, with wisdom far beyond her years, talked about Ah Sing's drinking problem. "I've been thinking about whether I should mention his drinking problem tonight," she started, "but I realize that to not talk about it would not honour who he was. Yes, Ah Sing drank a lot, but he drank because the pain of his separated hip was overwhelming. In the end, I asked myself 'how would Jesus have seen Ah Sing?'" she continued. "Jesus would have accepted Ah Sing for who he was with his strengths and flaws. If we are called to truly love our neighbours, we should as well. Because after all, don't we all have our flaws?"

When the service came to an end, one of Ah Sing's buddies shared that Ah Sing must have been so proud to look down from heaven and see so many people gathered to celebrate his life. I quietly pondered this thought in the afterglow of the funeral. Indeed, THIS is what the Kingdom of God is all about: the injustices of life being levelled and the poor, hungry and meek being exalted. The Kingdom is about the church rising up to be the hands and feet of Christ to truly love and accept those around. For Christ says, "whatever you do to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you did for me. (Matt 25:40)" Most of us are content sitting in our comfortable sterile sanctuaries, singing instead of serving, and yet our Lord calls us to go and love the lowly as we would love Him. What good is a church that doesn't even love her own Lord?

The sad thing isn't that homeless people die in our city - for all most die sooner or later- it's that most die without ever being dignified and loved as people whom God created. Even more tragic is that the church, the very Body of Christ in this age, lets that happen. Let us go, love others and do unto them as we would for the Lord.

3 More Weeks of Teaching!

Ahhhh!

This is surreal. I cannot believe that there are only 3 more weeks remaining in our school year. 

This year has been a whirlwind of busyness. Somehow in the midst of everything, God gave us the grace and sanity we needed to get through all the different challenges we faced. And now we are at the bittersweet time of the year when we must say goodbye to our students and see them off. 

Much has happened the last few months. For one, we finally shared with our classes that we were going to leave CAIS to go to Taiwan to serve next year. Our classes took it really well. When Michelle had the students pray for her after she had shared the news, one particular girl prayed, "God, I pray that Mr. and Mrs. Lam would not offend the culture in Taiwan and that they would be a blessing to others." What a powerful prayer from a nine year old! May that prayer be true of our lives - that we would be servants who are sensitive, who walk with others to bless them. That is our greatest desire for the next six months.

To be honest, as our time to leave draws near, the realization hasn't set on us how big of a change this year will be. We are excited, but really hope to find the time to settle down and still our hearts in preparation for this year. But in the meantime, there are still lots of people to say goodbye to, report cards to finish up, and a classroom of rambunctious kids to lead into the summer.  

Do pray for us when you remember. We could very much use your support!

Reflections on a Bike Trip to Taiwan

It's been three weeks since my ride with dad through Taiwan. Since returning to Hong Kong, life has been a whirlwind of busyness: starting school again, attending church events, and re-adjusting to our routine after the holiday. In between all of this, our Under 12 Girl's Basketball team won a pretty epic Bronze medal. It capped off a long four-month season in which we took a team of eight girls who could barely dribble to nearly knock off the eventual champs losing by only one point. So suffice to say, I haven't really had time to settle down and think about Taiwan.

To be honest, part of me has been hesitant to cap off the trip with a reflection because it ended rather anti-climatically. Throughout the trip I kept waiting for some sort of profound epiphany that never materialized. And as dad and I finished our trip in Taipei, both of us were pretty tired out from the ride. Since returning to Hong Kong three rainy Sundays ago I haven't really caught up with him.

Looking back now, I realize that this trip was pretty special in many ways. How often will I be able to spend a full week of uninterrupted time travelling with my dad? And even though we spent less time talking about life than I had hoped for, the trip was meaningful because we shared in the experience together. It'll always be something we can look back on with fondness.

Here are a few lessons I learned looking back:

Put That Phone Away:

Technology: The bane of our existence. It's a gift that is so promising and a curse that robs us from the present moment. As our trip progressed, it because increasingly alarming was just how badly attached I was to technology, in particular my phone. I hadn't noticed this when we first started the trip, and in fact had even poked fun of dad for his constant updates on Facebook and his tendency to take photos at every turn. And yet, soon enough, I found myself constantly checking my phone at every pit stop, posting on Instragram, and updating our progress.

Granted, so many of the places we visited were absolutely stunning and taking a photo was justified, but it became more than that. I remember starkly realizing towards the end of the trip (when dad ironically broke his phone by dropping it) how enslaved we were to our phones. We had been sharing one phone between the two of us and using every moment to blog or update that spent more time typing away on our 4 inch screen than actually talking with each other. It seemed silly that on a father-son trip we would talk more about each other in our updates than actually talk to each other. How strange that on such an eventful trip we would spend more time with our devices.

I think we've entered into an age of paradox where our technology grants us the freedom to be so close to the world yet so distant from the people actually close to us. We use our phones to broadcast our lives to the world and yet when it comes to interacting with those around us, we freeze and hide behind the screens of our phones. And strangely, deep within each one of us lies the need to be known and connected and yet not to be known at all. We sterilize the messy bits of our lives and show only the presentable, the parts that get the most 'likes'. Without our phones we are unmasked beings, paralyzed in the present, afraid of what others may truly think about our true selves.

Since we're on the topic of technology, here's a little digression about an interesting guy we met in Taipei. In the art district at HuaShan 1914 Cultural Park, there were some art exhibitions on display in old warehouses. A photographer was displaying some of his photo projects in one of the rooms. He was a hardcore instant-film enthusiast and avid Polaroid camera collector (and by avid, I mean he has one of six limited edition Polaroid cameras in the world that cost upwards of 10 grand USD and dozens and dozens of others) He shared with us his distaste for camera phones as they have diluted the art of photography and eroded the care needed to craft each photo and capture the essence of the moment. "People just snap away at everything and anyone," he lamented. "There's no meaning to photography anymore." For Jacky meaningful photography lay in capturing a spontaneous moment on film that cannot be altered or changed because it frames into memory a person and his/her significance to you.

Indeed it is curious that we have technology that enables us to capture every moment, but the abundance of this medium itself cheapens the moment. We have album after album of digital prints of places we have been and things we have done - all so we can share with people who might not care and gain one more notch on our social media belt. What Jacky the photographer said was convicting and I found myself fumbling through my motives for always snapping meaningless pictures. Perhaps it's time to think about what it really means to be present in the lives of others in a more meaningful way.


We endure pain for the things we feel are worthwhile: 

I hate dislike cycling (for hate is too strong a word). I dislike riding because it is tedious, mostly painful and generally a slow going to get where you need to be. It came as no surprise that I struggled through many parts of the trip. My butt ached, my knee hurt, and I was bored of the tedium of pedalling mile after mile. Dad on the other hand had no such problems. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy the process. For him it was worthwhile to bike, perhaps for the exercise, perhaps for the adrenaline, or maybe for the thought of accomplishing something great. His motivation for enduring the pain lay in his goal and finish line. All I saw was the pain that lay three steps ahead of me.

This led me to think about how we as humans and spiritual beings are actually quite willing to endure and sacrifice for the things we hold dear. As a teacher, I always lament that our youth don't have the discipline or gumption to sacrifice. But now I see that it's not that we don't sacrifice, but we sacrifice for lesser things. There are plenty of us who are willing to endure the pain of working out to look good, the toil to earn a good paycheck, or the long hours of hitting the books to get good grades. There are even those of us (myself included) who are willing to pour hours of our lives into video games, watching youtube videos, and checking social media. We pour our lives into these things, clouded with myopic vision and blinded to the greater things to which God calls us to sacrifice. We are unwilling to endure for the Kingdom's sake. We forget to look heavenward.

In Hebrews 12, the Scriptures admonish us to lay aside every encumbrance to run with endurance the race that is set before us. We are told to run in the example of the saints who went before us - the great cloud of witnesses who stand beckoning us onward - and we are called to run toward Christ, the author and perfecter of our faith. He is our goal and he is our prize. We are told to fix our eyes on Him.

What drives my dad to endure the pain of a 42K marathon or a cross-Taiwan bike ride? He sees the prize at the end. We too then, ought to run our spiritual journey with the end in mind, for surely our prize at the end will be worth every hardship we endure now.


Relationship with my father:

The last thought is something closest to heart and something I'm least able to write about because it's something that I'm still trying to understand.

I don't think I've ever spent this much one-on-one time with dad in my life. Ten days isn't a lot, but when it's just the two of you and all you're doing is riding a bike, it's a lot of time together. On the trip I got to see a glimpse of the real Otto that gets overlooked by all the people that follow him on Facebook. There are so many great traits I admire about dad: his humility, optimism, wisdom and determination. And then there are all the flaws, habits, and pieces of brokenness that surface in the friction of nearness and relationship.

When I look at myself, I see so much of him passed on, I can't help but think just how profoundly powerful my relationship with my father can be. I see the same insecurities, the same tendency to withdraw from conflicts, and the same fear to get close and invest emotions. I see our shared history that entangles us, the same reluctance to hatch up the pass hurts, and the ambiguity of what it means to be father and son. All these things clearly known, but unspoken of because neither one of us dares. These living momentos are passed on and affect every part of my life. Most of all, they shape my relationship with God.

I'm learning more that I need to unlearn a lot of how I relate to God. I often approach Him with a sense of hesitance, unsure if He is emotionally vested and present. But I'm learning that God loves perfectly and completely and I can pursue an intimacy with Him like no other. I can't say I understand what that looks like, but I'm learning.

Don't get me wrong - my earthly father is pretty awesome. I love him and wouldn't trade him for any other. I'm learning, as I work through the convoluted mess that is life and relationships, that he isn't perfect. And that's okay. I have a Father in Heaven who is.

Day 8: Green Island

Today we were lucky enough to catch a boat ride into Green Island, one of the four outlying islands from Taiwan's mainland. It has majestic scenery, but also some dark memories as it served as an island concentration camp during the Taiwanese government's White Terror in the 1940's to the 1970's. The government hauled off anyone they deemed as communist sympathizers to be exiled here on this island. Some were executed here, while many others died from their stay. Because so many of the prisoners were educated, their interactions with the villagers actually blessed the community. They helped tutor the kids, build, and farm. Though theold camps from the White Terror don't exists anymore, the island and its people were forever shaped by the presence of the prisons. 

The prison complexes from a hilltop.

 A wall of the names of political prisoners sent to Green Island.

Sad three-footed Bambi. The island is famous for deer. 

Our host took us night-exploring looking for certain bugs and creatures. We saw some stick insects and some deer off in the mountains. 

I think Green Island is one of my highlights this trip. It's its own ecosystem apart from Taiwan. In many ways it's like a tropical island unscathed by civilization yet there are semblances of a history here that many would like to forget but can't. It is worth the visit of you are ever in the Taitung area.

Day 7: Onward to Taitung

So today was a much more successful day than yesterday. I was pretty down after a short ride and knee pain, but today proved to be a much better day. We rode around 80kms and arrived in Taitung by train after dinner. 

We started off the day with some hill climbs and a visit to the Tropic of Cancer monument near Ruisui. Nothing that special actually, but neat to think that we landed on some important arbitrary line drawn by geographers. 

Neat that on the way to Chihshang we saw a church. I've been surprised that I've seen at least a few churches along the way. I hope that they are thriving and will bless their communities

We arrived in Chihshang which is a town primarily famous for its rice and train station which was an important stop for refuelling train riders with lunches on their lengthy journies. This old restaurant is the most famous one at that, selling wooden lunch boxes to customers on the trains. 

After lunch we went on a "little" bike ride exploring the countryside. 

Our exploring actually took us to the next town where we took a train to Taitung. Glad our biking portion is over because I'm pretty tired of biking. But overall today was a great day and the most actual pedalling I've down since day 2. 

Taitung is rather small city. We had dinner at the night markets today. Other than that we haven't seen much. We will go to Green Island which is 45 mins off the coast. Will update more on that tomorrow. 

Day 6: Change of Plans

According to dad there's a Chinese proverb from Taiwan that says the road never changes, but people do. It's certainly been true on our trip thus far and will probably prove to be true in the few days to come.

I guess a bike trip doesn't really work when one's legs don't, and in my case, my bad knee has been really dampening our progress. The first 20 kms today felt great but the old problem came back and we were force to lodge early after riding only 40kms today. 

It's a disappointing day for me because I had high hopes that we would cover much of the 150kms left to Taitung, and this morning's weather was so ideal for making that distance. Now we're at Ruisui at a hotspring inn. I should be optimistic but I'm finding it hard. I need to remember that it's not about the destination but the journey to it. 

Dad's dropped his phone this morning and we later found that his camera is slightly broken. He's dealt with everything really well which is something I could learn. Maybe his broken phone will give us time for other things the next few days. 

So the plan is to ride another the next train station and get down to Taitung. Hopefully we will spend a few days exploring.

Because we got to our inn earlier in the afternoon we were able to visit a farm nearby. We had some neat snacks and saw ostriches. Who knew there were ostriches in these parts?

So 

I'll end off with a few photos:

The homestay from yesterday

A Betel nut stall along the road. I asked the lady whether I could try one (it's an addictive chewing tobacco-like plant) and she replied, "小朋友不好吃ah" which means "kids shouldn't eat this". So no betel nuts for me. 

Went to this famous ice cream place at Guangfu. 

Our hot spring inn at Ruisui

Ostriches. What's better than an ostrich? How bout none at all- those creepy creatures!

Gotta stay flexible tomorrow because the road won't bend for us, we'll need to move for it. 

Day 5: Rain, Pain, and the Killer Si Fu

Ok. Straight up reports today. No lesson or profound experience. Just lots or riding, lots of rain, and an unexpected healer who fixed the both of us up. 

After last night's jail stay we woke up this morning and realized the stay wasn't as bad as we had thought. I suppose the rain had painted everything a darker shade and put dad in a foul mood. With my knee hurting badly and 60kms before us, prospects weren't too good for a successful ride today. That's when dad had an ephipany. We would ride south instead of north to Taipei. We would hit Taitung and take a train up to Taipei and bypass the mountains. And guess where dad had this brilliant ephipany? That's right, in the jailcell toilet!

Turns out our stay was close to the sea and there were some nice views to be had. There were some nice rolling mountains and a rural village feel to the place that really started off our day serenely. 

We found the sea. It's by a place called Chisingtan (七皇潭) near Hualien. 

There are not a lot of photos of our ride south today because most of it was in the rain. We took lots of stops because of my knee including several stops at 7/11s which so conveniently line the main roads. 

The riding was mostly flat. On any given day most people should be able to average 30-40 kms on the road but we took much longer because of my gimp knee and the rain. We did get into the town where we're staying a lot earlier. I think it was four in the afternoon when we got into Fenglin. On arrival we were both sopping wet. 

Ahh, the blessing of today in an otherwise mundane day was that we landed in an awesome inn. After last night, this is such a blessing from the Lord. It's decorated as the classic Taiwanese BnB with the tackiness but friendly hospitality. The place is SO appropriately named Loveshouse. And here is Otto with a fitting amourous pose. 

Here's the bonus of the day: the host found us a neighbour who does Tui Na (Chinese massage). This guy was a killer. He bears the gifts of wisdom and pain. He also lectured me for drinking not enough water and too much beer. He also told me I had bad eyes and poor insides. I guess I'm going to die soon. Anyway, enjoy our grimace faces. 

He was so good one of my pant legs fell off. 

Here's our Si Fu. 

I'm not sure whether I like you or not, but thank you. We feel much better.