Saving Mr. and Mrs. Ghandi,
In my various assignments in developing countries I would sometimes find myself in a large city when a huge rock star type event would blow into town. Tents, lighting and special effects paraphernalia, huge speaker towers and stages would suddenly appear in a centrally located park.
Warm up noise would sound for miles as guitars twanged, brass horns blasted and loud drums thumped.
In these instances my hotel would be in a central location in countries such as India, Fiji, Pacific Islands Africa and East Asia.
Curious, I would walk over closer to the noise to see what it was all about.
In many, if not most cases, it was an American style evangelistic outfit setting up one of their crusades to save souls in non Christian areas of the world. They would paratroop in, set up, perform for a couple of nights, instruct others how to conduct door to door visits and blast out to another location.
One event in particular in India caused me to return to my room and write this fictitional piece about how the follow-up visitation interviews might have been conducted by those seeking to convert the “heathen”.
The Title: Mrs. Ghandi,
Knock Knock,
Hello Mrs. Ghandi, Is Mahatma home?
Ans. No, He is marching across India today. Can I help you?
Well yes. I have heard he is a very wise and good fellow but I have some very, very important information for him.
I hear he is a Hindu and as a Christian I am fearful for his soul.
Ans. What do you mean? He is a very religious man. He has studied all the major religions. Even though the Reformed church in South Africa would not let him in to worship in their church because of his color, he has high regard for Christians. He admires Jesus very much. He would go so far as to claim he is a follower of Jesus’ way of doing things.
Mrs. Ghandi, I’m afraid you don’t understand. His remaining a Hindu, devout as he is; I must tell you that if he should die this minute he would go straight to Hell and burn in agony in eternal pain forever. I must see him to warn him so that he will make Jesus his Savior. He must leave this Hindu thing behind.
Ans. Well thank you for this information about how your Christian god deals with those who seek to serve the almighty in other ways.
Well, there is still hope, Mrs. Ghandi. Here is a Bible and please tell Mahatma we are having a meeting, actually a rally in Allahabad next week and an American trained preacher with a Hindi translator will seek to save him.
Ans.Thank you but he already has a copy of this Bible. Are you so sure that unless my husband accepts your religion that your god will treat him so badly? My husband has given his life to Peace and understanding between all people. He is a very religious and dedicated person. Right now he is the spiritual leader of this nation. Leaders around the world greatly admire his example. He has shown that love and passive resistance can overcome violence and hatred.
I’m sorry Mrs. Ghandi. That’s the way it is. I have to go now. There is a Dr Mullick in Calcutta I need to see him to warn him as well. He is a Hindu also and has met Mr. Ghandhi and as a result is serving the poorest of the poor. It will be a shame to see him go to Hell also.
Good Day.
End of story
Post Script: Dr Biral Mullick M.D. with whom I was privileged to serve in East Bengal and Bangladesh was one of the most devout and sacrificial servants of human need that I have ever met. Mahatma Ghandi actually visited the Mullick home in Calcutta when Biral was a young boy. Biral’s clinic was located in Calcutta’s largest slum, Howrah, which is also known in the book and movie,” The City of Joy.”
In the case of India, the Christian church was brought there over 2000 years ago in Kerala by the disciple known as St.Thomas. For centuries the church served faithfully in what has always been a devout Hindu nation. The Christian minority has enjoyed peaceful relations and has received many tributes especially for their substantial educational and medical contributions to India.
Recently, churches have been burned and Christians driven from their villages as a result of this new Western style aggressive evangelism.
The remains of St. Thomas can be viewed in a church in Madras.
As I sat at my desk, listening to the Christian “Rock” concert heat up I asked myself, “Chuck, do you still want to be known as a Christian around here?”
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Movie Night: Food, Inc.
Join us Sunday, February 21, at 6:30 pm in the hospitality room for a free showing of Food, Inc., the Academy-nominated documentary about the sorry state of the American food industry. Here's the website and discussion guide. You'll never look at dinner the same way!
Monday, February 8, 2010
It Was So Much Fun
It Was So Much Fun
By Chuck Ausherman
Recently I attended a program entitled “The Best Generation” sponsored by a local social club. Two World War II veterans presented details of their service in the Army Air Corps as it was called in those days.
They both were primarily involved in numerous bombing raids over German held targets. They spoke of how imprecise bombs were dropped in that period of American warfare.When asked if this meant that innocent civilians were victims of these air raids, there was a nervous chuckle. “I guess you would have to say that happened especially when we bombed surrounding countries.”
Further explanation of these missions detailed how difficult it was to be accurate with military equipment available in those days. “We were trying to destroy German military supply lines, like bridges and roads.” Bombs often drifted off their targets and we never really knew who got hit with those things.”
A question and answer session from the audience ended with someone asking, “How would you sum up your experience as members of a bomber squadron?”
The lead speaker, thought for a while, slowly shook his head from side to side and said, “I guess I’d have to just say, it was so much fun. To sum it up, it was so much fun.”
This program is on tour across the Midwest and includes various paraphernalia of maps and war souvenirs.
Fast forward to when I served as interim director of the Ryukyu Islands Church World Service program based in Okinawa. It was a humanitarian relief program which brought in food and supplies for those struggling to recover years after the close of WWII.
I lived in a Japanese style house in a sugar cane field outside the Capitol city of Naha before those islands reverted to Japan.
Okinawa was then and still is a strategic U.S. military base which includes a huge Air Force establishment called Kadena Air Field. Kadena is actually a replica of a typical stateside suburb. Neatly laid out streets with American style homes with manicured lawns and children’s swings and slides in the backyards. Kadena has at least one golf course, movie theatres and such just like any town in the USA. And of course, there is this large air strip and long flight line of mainly B52’s
Since I had Officer’s club privileges, I would often have dinner with the folks who worked at Kadena.
My wife had headed back to Taiwan with our children so they could get back to school there. Hence, I was alone in Naha and often ended up at Kadena where I could catch an American movie after a good American dinner at the club.
Sitting at the bar, I would often get to talk with servicemen stationed on Kadena. We would explain what we were doing in Okinawa in terms of our daily activities.
Typical topics from my day sometimes astounded these airmen for example when I told them how I had gone to the civilian airport in Naha that day to collect frozen sperm flown in from the states to transship to Ryukyan farmers in remote islands to improve their livestock herds.
They in turn told of their daily bombing runs in their B52’s over Vietnam. Get up early in the morning, take off for Nam, drop your load and head back in time for a few drinks and dinner with the family. Days off included heading to the US military beaches or a round of golf at a Kadena course.
When I told these officers, some of whom had lived on Kadena for over two years, that I worked in Naha, they would ask, Where’s Naha?
Okinawa is a small island which one can cover on good highways in less than two hours from one end to the other.
“Where’s Naha?” I would answer incredulously, “Naha is the capitol of Okinawa and all the Ryukyu islands. It’s about 30 minutes from where we are sitting here at Kadena.”
I enjoyed my time with these fellow Americans as we relaxed from our day’s work. I even bought a complete scuba outfit with tanks and all from one of them, which they arranged to ship by US Air force shuttle to Taiwan via one of the Kadena Chaplains. After my stint in Okinawa we were able to use the scuba gear at the US military beach on Taiwan when I returned home there later in the fall.
If this all sounds surreal, it was.
I can even imagine that some of these guys are giving talks to social clubs back in the States in their retirement. I can hear them sum up their service time in Okinawa by saying, “It was so much fun.”
By Chuck Ausherman
Recently I attended a program entitled “The Best Generation” sponsored by a local social club. Two World War II veterans presented details of their service in the Army Air Corps as it was called in those days.
They both were primarily involved in numerous bombing raids over German held targets. They spoke of how imprecise bombs were dropped in that period of American warfare.When asked if this meant that innocent civilians were victims of these air raids, there was a nervous chuckle. “I guess you would have to say that happened especially when we bombed surrounding countries.”
Further explanation of these missions detailed how difficult it was to be accurate with military equipment available in those days. “We were trying to destroy German military supply lines, like bridges and roads.” Bombs often drifted off their targets and we never really knew who got hit with those things.”
A question and answer session from the audience ended with someone asking, “How would you sum up your experience as members of a bomber squadron?”
The lead speaker, thought for a while, slowly shook his head from side to side and said, “I guess I’d have to just say, it was so much fun. To sum it up, it was so much fun.”
This program is on tour across the Midwest and includes various paraphernalia of maps and war souvenirs.
Fast forward to when I served as interim director of the Ryukyu Islands Church World Service program based in Okinawa. It was a humanitarian relief program which brought in food and supplies for those struggling to recover years after the close of WWII.
I lived in a Japanese style house in a sugar cane field outside the Capitol city of Naha before those islands reverted to Japan.
Okinawa was then and still is a strategic U.S. military base which includes a huge Air Force establishment called Kadena Air Field. Kadena is actually a replica of a typical stateside suburb. Neatly laid out streets with American style homes with manicured lawns and children’s swings and slides in the backyards. Kadena has at least one golf course, movie theatres and such just like any town in the USA. And of course, there is this large air strip and long flight line of mainly B52’s
Since I had Officer’s club privileges, I would often have dinner with the folks who worked at Kadena.
My wife had headed back to Taiwan with our children so they could get back to school there. Hence, I was alone in Naha and often ended up at Kadena where I could catch an American movie after a good American dinner at the club.
Sitting at the bar, I would often get to talk with servicemen stationed on Kadena. We would explain what we were doing in Okinawa in terms of our daily activities.
Typical topics from my day sometimes astounded these airmen for example when I told them how I had gone to the civilian airport in Naha that day to collect frozen sperm flown in from the states to transship to Ryukyan farmers in remote islands to improve their livestock herds.
They in turn told of their daily bombing runs in their B52’s over Vietnam. Get up early in the morning, take off for Nam, drop your load and head back in time for a few drinks and dinner with the family. Days off included heading to the US military beaches or a round of golf at a Kadena course.
When I told these officers, some of whom had lived on Kadena for over two years, that I worked in Naha, they would ask, Where’s Naha?
Okinawa is a small island which one can cover on good highways in less than two hours from one end to the other.
“Where’s Naha?” I would answer incredulously, “Naha is the capitol of Okinawa and all the Ryukyu islands. It’s about 30 minutes from where we are sitting here at Kadena.”
I enjoyed my time with these fellow Americans as we relaxed from our day’s work. I even bought a complete scuba outfit with tanks and all from one of them, which they arranged to ship by US Air force shuttle to Taiwan via one of the Kadena Chaplains. After my stint in Okinawa we were able to use the scuba gear at the US military beach on Taiwan when I returned home there later in the fall.
If this all sounds surreal, it was.
I can even imagine that some of these guys are giving talks to social clubs back in the States in their retirement. I can hear them sum up their service time in Okinawa by saying, “It was so much fun.”
BarB Que and Jesus
BarB Que and Jesus
The culture in the Carolinas is a great deal about Bar B Que. Well, of course Basketball and Country music are important there also. We call it the BBC.
“We have the BBC here. Basketball, Bar B Que and Country Music.” But Bar B Que is sort of like a holy topic.
As a member of the Chapel Hill, N.C. Kiwanis Club for many years I can remember that the number one topic EVERY week, ALL year, would be about our annual Bar B Que cook-off. The rich variety of sauces, the logistics of getting cookers with their trailer ovens, the proper firewood, the whole pigs, the roasting procedures which lasted overnight, where to find the right slaw, which local celebrities should be judges, trophies, signs to advertise the event along the highways. But the basic concern was the taste and texture of the end product, mouth watering Carolina Bar B Que.
Folks up North are oblivious to how important our dedication is to Bar B Que. Tell a Carolinian visiting up North that there is going to be Bar B Que tonight and then toss some hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill, you will break his heart then and there.
So you can imagine how dubious I was when my wife told me here in Akron that a new restaurant just opened ten minutes down the road which is called Classic Carolina Bar B Que.
To make a long story short, we drove over there to what looked like a clean, attractive place with a menu that was just like it is back in North Carolina. It was lunch time and it was crowded even though it had been opened less than a week.
How could those Yankees learn so fast? This was the real stuff. It was the whole deal, hush puppies and all. I was so excited that I went around to all the staff, waiters, cookers and especially the cashier who even looked like a cute Southern Belle, praising what they had done. My bright Carolina Blue jacket with “Tar Heels” on the back helped confirm my sincerity. They even got the sauces right. Sauces are a closely guarded secret down South.
After filling myself and ordering some more for take-out I grabbed a bunch of menus to share this amazing discovery with all my friends.
Off went e-mails to family back in North Carolina, “We have Carolina Bar B Que right here in Akron, Ohio!”
Answers came back, “Yeah, sure, we’ll see when we get up there for Christmas.”
Waving menus I carried this good news to as many people I met. Our pharmacist was a little startled when I told him about my discovery with such enthusiasm. Repeating the message to his cashier caused her to furrow her brow as if I was relating some strange mystery.
Our church secretary was surprised at my sudden sales pitch while she was absorbed in her regular duties. But since she was originally from Tennessee she tried to understand. (Even though Tennessee “Que” would hardly qualify in the Carolinas as the real thing.) The ministers and fellow choir members were polite as I relayed my hot news to them. We were in church after all.
It was shortly after my latest mission around town for real Que as I stopped at a red light that I heard a voice from above.
“Chuck, you have been running around town excited with this good news about Carolina Bar B Que coming to Akron.”
“You used to feel that way about Jesus. You couldn’t wait to share that message back then. As a young man it propelled you off to seminary, and carried you to far away places to share the “Good News.”
Then the voice said, “It’s been a while Chuck.”
I had to brush away tears as I headed back to Classic Carolina Bar B Que.
The culture in the Carolinas is a great deal about Bar B Que. Well, of course Basketball and Country music are important there also. We call it the BBC.
“We have the BBC here. Basketball, Bar B Que and Country Music.” But Bar B Que is sort of like a holy topic.
As a member of the Chapel Hill, N.C. Kiwanis Club for many years I can remember that the number one topic EVERY week, ALL year, would be about our annual Bar B Que cook-off. The rich variety of sauces, the logistics of getting cookers with their trailer ovens, the proper firewood, the whole pigs, the roasting procedures which lasted overnight, where to find the right slaw, which local celebrities should be judges, trophies, signs to advertise the event along the highways. But the basic concern was the taste and texture of the end product, mouth watering Carolina Bar B Que.
Folks up North are oblivious to how important our dedication is to Bar B Que. Tell a Carolinian visiting up North that there is going to be Bar B Que tonight and then toss some hot dogs and hamburgers on a grill, you will break his heart then and there.
So you can imagine how dubious I was when my wife told me here in Akron that a new restaurant just opened ten minutes down the road which is called Classic Carolina Bar B Que.
To make a long story short, we drove over there to what looked like a clean, attractive place with a menu that was just like it is back in North Carolina. It was lunch time and it was crowded even though it had been opened less than a week.
How could those Yankees learn so fast? This was the real stuff. It was the whole deal, hush puppies and all. I was so excited that I went around to all the staff, waiters, cookers and especially the cashier who even looked like a cute Southern Belle, praising what they had done. My bright Carolina Blue jacket with “Tar Heels” on the back helped confirm my sincerity. They even got the sauces right. Sauces are a closely guarded secret down South.
After filling myself and ordering some more for take-out I grabbed a bunch of menus to share this amazing discovery with all my friends.
Off went e-mails to family back in North Carolina, “We have Carolina Bar B Que right here in Akron, Ohio!”
Answers came back, “Yeah, sure, we’ll see when we get up there for Christmas.”
Waving menus I carried this good news to as many people I met. Our pharmacist was a little startled when I told him about my discovery with such enthusiasm. Repeating the message to his cashier caused her to furrow her brow as if I was relating some strange mystery.
Our church secretary was surprised at my sudden sales pitch while she was absorbed in her regular duties. But since she was originally from Tennessee she tried to understand. (Even though Tennessee “Que” would hardly qualify in the Carolinas as the real thing.) The ministers and fellow choir members were polite as I relayed my hot news to them. We were in church after all.
It was shortly after my latest mission around town for real Que as I stopped at a red light that I heard a voice from above.
“Chuck, you have been running around town excited with this good news about Carolina Bar B Que coming to Akron.”
“You used to feel that way about Jesus. You couldn’t wait to share that message back then. As a young man it propelled you off to seminary, and carried you to far away places to share the “Good News.”
Then the voice said, “It’s been a while Chuck.”
I had to brush away tears as I headed back to Classic Carolina Bar B Que.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Fighting for Christianity
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
I just read an article about some evangelical churches that are promoting "extreme martial arts" and "ultimate fighting" to attract young men to their churches. Those in charge point out that very few young men are attending church because it is too "feminine" for them.
This makes me wonder to what extent Christians will go in order to fill the pews. I just can't find Jesus and his teachings in this practice.
I would like to point out that it is a minority of churches that are going this route, and I have no argument with evangelicals in general!
Posted by Carol Button at 6:10 PM 0 comments
I just read an article about some evangelical churches that are promoting "extreme martial arts" and "ultimate fighting" to attract young men to their churches. Those in charge point out that very few young men are attending church because it is too "feminine" for them.
This makes me wonder to what extent Christians will go in order to fill the pews. I just can't find Jesus and his teachings in this practice.
I would like to point out that it is a minority of churches that are going this route, and I have no argument with evangelicals in general!
Posted by Carol Button at 6:10 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Greg Mortenson at Mount Union in March
Greg Mortenson, author of Three Cups of Tea and Stones into Schools will be speaking at Mount Union on March 23. He believes that education is the key to peace and has devoted his life to building schools for girls in Pakistan and Afghanistan. For anyone interested, here is some ticket information:
March 23, 2010
8:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Mount Union College
Timken Gymnasium
1972 Clark Ave.
Alliance, Ohio 44601
Contact: Anne GrafficeEmail: graffiaz@muc. edu http://www2. muc.edu/
Ticketing Information: Contact the office of alumni & college activities at 330-823-2030 to obtain free tickets for the lecture. A separate ticket line will be activated closer to the event date.
March 23, 2010
8:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Mount Union College
Timken Gymnasium
1972 Clark Ave.
Alliance, Ohio 44601
Contact: Anne GrafficeEmail: graffiaz@muc. edu http://www2. muc.edu/
Ticketing Information: Contact the office of alumni & college activities at 330-823-2030 to obtain free tickets for the lecture. A separate ticket line will be activated closer to the event date.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Stoles
The StolesThese two stoles were once worn by a Lutheran pastor who served a large congregation in a beautiful church built by the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company in Parkchester, the Bronx.
At that time Parkchester, represented an avant garde innovation in urban planning. Built in 1939 on 129 acres it included over 75% of open space for gardens and walkways in one of the most crowded boroughs of New York City.
Parkchester was intended for middle class residents with an unwritten but enforced rule that only Caucasians be allowed to rent in any of the 12,000 apartments.
Rev. Elmer Dressel was determined to integrate his congregation and thus desegregate Parkchester. The area surrounding Parkchester contained every race and nationality even in those days. His board, consisting of Metropolitan executives blocked his efforts at every turn.
I was a young minister in a much smaller parish nearby. Serving my first charge I was grateful for our East Bronx Monday morning clergy meetings where ministers openly shared their challenges as they served in the dynamic and diverse city of New York. The other members of our group including Rev. Dressel had vastly more experience than I who was fresh out of seminary.
Elmer, once again related his frustration with his church council to our group. He then got up from his chair and presented me with his set of clerical stoles.
I was very moved by this generous gesture especially since I could hardly afford to purchase my own stoles. My annual salary in those days was $5,000.
Rev. Dressel did not attend our next Monday morning weekly meeting. He had gone to his summer cottage in New Jersey that week-end and ended his life. He was found by his family hanging from a rafter.
The funeral service in this large sanctuary was filled to overflowing with mourners. Elmer’s two young daughters in their early twenties, stood next to their father’s open coffin. Overcome with grief they screamed in agony the circumstances of his death and physically barred members of the church board from approaching the bier. The emotions were electrifying for us all.
In decades to come I wore Elmer’s stoles in worship services in many parts of the world until they became frayed with time and service.
They appear here now as a symbol of even how life’s great tragedies can go on to serve meaning and hope.
Parkchester today is still a beautiful place to live in the city. Its residents are of every race and nationality.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Reinhold Niebuhr back in the news
Take a look at this great article by Paul Raushenbush, urging the President to take another look at his "favorite philosopher" for guidance. Raushenbush is Moderator of the Progressive Revival blog and the Associate Dean of Religious Life at Princeton.
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