#7 Open Door Presbyterian

Combined, Rachel and I would have a complete, not to mention brilliant, brain. We wish we could have smashed it together for the SAT's, though thanks to movies like Freaky Friday, we know running full speed and crashing into each other won't do the trick. Rachel is skilled at math, she is keen and observant. Math is the epic fail of my life. I'm sure I bombed the math section on the SAT, but I'm not concerned; if I end up living in a cardboard box someday that's alright; you can write on cardboard. I like to write. The point to this is Rachel does the organized stuff-she finds church websites and addresses and informs me when Sunday is nearing, among many other things. I just provide the coffee, unsuccessfully try to keep my big mouth shut, and write about what occurs.

This week, like most all the others, Rachel sent me a church website. I checked it out, said it sounded cool, and that became the next destination. Our friend Katie had seen a van on the road somewhere that read, "Open Door Presbyterian Church," and told Rachel about it. As we headed there I was unaware that when Rachel first went to the website it was in Korean, and she had to click on the English version.

We ALMOST went to the wrong church again. We parked in a shopping center. What we thought was the church was across the street. We knew it wasn't right though because the title had nothing to do with an open door, and "Open Door Church" was how we had been referring to this one. The correct church was behind the imposter building, and must have been either a school or hospital before it was a church. It was huge, and as Rachel kept commenting, smelled like latex. It was large, not in the fancy modern fashion Fairfax Community was, but in a functional business way; long brightly lit halls with lots of rooms on either side.

As we neared the building, it immediately came to my attention that everyone around us was Asian. I also noticed that Rachel was not surprised about this fact at all. Upon my inquiry, she simply said something along the lines of, "Oh yeah, it's Korean." Of course I have nothing against Koreans, or any nationality. Call me Angelina Jolie, but I love diversity. I love that little picture often found in classrooms that depicts kids linking hands so they make a circle around the world. The thing I am against is standing out; I am more then content to stay unnoticed and be left alone. I like to do the observing, not be observed, thank you very much. I am tall and tan with light brown hair, and pretty sure those features do not pass as Korean. Also, not to stereotype, but typically those from the Far East are good at math.

Just moments after Rachel and I went into the massive building, a girl about our own age came up and asked us if it was our first time there. She stated it more then questioned it, which is understandable. (We would not see a non-Korean the entire visit.) She questioned whether we were looking for the Korean or English service, but with a good humored smile that made it evident she knew the answer to this already. She led us through the lengthy halls to the English service, said she had to go to the Korean one with her parents, and then introduced us to someone else. We commented on her genuine friendliness as we took our seats.

The worship was mainstream. Everyone in the band was young, as was most of the congregation. We later learned that a majority of them were students from Georgetown University. Some guy did the church announcements, and then told us to prepare ourselves for the sermon, that it would be intense.

The message was called "Blinded by Greed" and part of a series on Luke. The Pastor Dihan Lee (I'm just gonna call him Lee) explained how greed was unlike other sins in that it had a way of hiding. Greed is often disguised by terms like "motivation." Jesus said in Luke 12:15, "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions." Being a wise saver is one thing, but we can not depend on possessions for our happiness. The more you have the tighter fisted you become. According to Lee, Jesus says to take life easy, be merry. But merry and happy are two different things. You can save and invest all you want, but when it comes down to it you're still stuck with your same old self, still trying to fulfill and gain, just in better clothes. We should never be more interested in pursuing wealth then God. It is widely accepted in the USA that the more one has the more they can control their future. We think our wealth will protect us and keep us secure, make us happy. But we do so much worrying over that wealth, it's ridiculous. Most of the world is concerned with will or how they are going to eat. The average American ponders where and what. Same goes for clothing and housing. Lee told us we must trust God and change our perspectives. We can't just sit there and chant "greed is bad" repeatedly; we must overrun it by seeking the Lord's kingdom first. I haven’t exactly sold everything I own save a barrel to wear (mainly ‘cuz I don’t own a barrel), but nevertheless, this was enlightening.

My favorite part of the sermon was when we were told to imagine we had a blank sheet of paper in front of us, to imagine that how much money we made didn't matter, to write down anything we wanted to do, be it a career or mission or anything. Then contemplate if the reason we weren't doing this now or pursuing it was purely for wealth reasons, and if it was God's calling for us. Scrawled across my imaginary sheet was, "constant travel, exploration/adventure" and underneath that "write". A mental image immediately popped into my head of my mom driving our van around with a bumper sticker that read, "Proud Parent of a Restless Hobo." Ha. Hopefully Rachel will tell us what was on her paper. It probably includes something along the lines of, "Find more ways to make Sally feel self-conscious and be unable to just blend in like she prefers gosh darn it!"

Really though, nobody gave me too-long-looks or anything that acknowledged our extreme out-of-placement. I mean I wasn't expecting to be shunned, but I was impressed by the immediate acceptance of our obvious difference. There was never any feeling of I-don't-belong-here simply because of a differing heritage/place of birth.

Visitors were encouraged to introduce themselves and receive gift bags. Like before, I was hesitant about this and would have chosen to just leave if it weren’t for Rachel's insisting. I'm glad she likes to be polite and meet people, though the realization that she only wants to do this when there are presents involved hasn't escaped me. These neon green gift bags had a rubber bracelet, pen, and coffee mug all with ODPC on them. A non-winky dink, gulp-rather-then-sip sized mug, I must add. I drank out of it this morning.

I want to conclude by saying I liked the sermon because it addressed a “why” question. I don't know about you, but my brain is constantly baffled and tortured by these. I believe I can sum it up with a passage from a book by Don Miller, a favorite authur of both mine and Rachel’s. I wish to leave you with these thoughts, so farewell and 안녕(Korean for goodbye) until next week.

"Sometimes I admire people who don't ask why questions, who only want to know the how of life: How do I get paid, how do I get a wife, how do I make myself happy, whatever. The why path isn't so rewarding, if you think about it: Why are we here, why do we feel what we feel, desire what we desire, need what we need, hate what we hate? I saw this Calvin and Hobbes cartoon once that had Calvin's teacher asking the class to turn in their homework. Calvin raised his hand and asked why we exist. The teacher told Calvin not to change the subject but to turn in his homework, and what difference does it make anyway? Calvin leaned back in his chair and mumbled to himself that the answer to the question determined whether or not turning in his homework was important in the first place." (Through Painted Deserts, page 19)