Every generation in the modern world has a shared experience. Cultures have collective memories. These are both memorialized in mythologies, celebrations, memorials and rituals. These often take on lives of their own.
Today, Becki and I shared in a very old collective memory across several cultural divides. We do not know the exact words that were said, but we had no difficulty understanding their significance. This ritual, you see, has been celebrated since a group of refugees prepared to escape their oppressive situation for a new homeland. Against all odds this celebration survived until one man turned history on its head and gave this celebration to the world.
When was the last time you faced a staggeringly large number? I faced such a number today. An old creed mentions “the communion of saints” and today it hit me just how many barriers this transcends. I may not have even seen all its different facets, but it was mind-boggling nonetheless. In all my travels I have never had the opportunity to share in this remembering across cultural lines. Today I saw myself reflected in the face of China, and I was reminded that all of us are tied together in this one thing. The hundreds of Chinese who surrounded me, my brothers and sisters in Russia, friends and family scattered worldwide, and those who have gone before are all connected by this shared experience.
We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, indeed. This reality hit me in such a way that it made me feel very small, but not lacking significance. Imagine yourself as a single piece to a very large puzzle. You are not a corner or even an edge piece, but you know that you belong to that puzzle. There may be 4999 other pieces, but you still count. That’s a good picture of how I felt.
We went to the Three Self Church today. It was hot, crowded, and entirely untranslated. I think I must have asked four or five times for the gift of interpreting tongues, if only to stay awake. That did not work, so I studied Philippians instead. A point came when people were getting up and leaving, but not everyone. A greeter lady was telling us something, but we didn’t understand. She eventually chased us out. A man outside talked to us in English. He explained to us that he was outside because he is not allowed to “eat.” He hadn’t been… he didn’t know the word, but he made a sprinkling motion. He asked us if we had been sprinkling-motion-ed. When we answered yes, he said, “You can eat.” So we did.
After church we walked across the street to a specialized book store that you wouldn’t necessarily expect to find in China, but there it was. We got some cool postcards. One has a boat and really high floodwaters. Another has text from Philippians in two languages. Another has a guy with long hair holding up some bread and a couple fish. You get the point. I don’t necessarily spend much time in such stores at home. They kinda bother me lately, but finding one in Tianjin was heartwarming in a way.
For lunch we went to a Thai restaurant! It was so yummy! I ordered panang nur in Thai in China. Hee hee! Since Thai was one of my first foreign languages (I only know food, so don’t be impressed), I was pretty excited.
Grace came over for dinner tonight. From beginning to end this has been a terrific day!
Edit: Now that I finally get to post, it’s Monday morning instead of the intended Sunday. Oh well.
