Return of the Jedi Revenging the Phantom Empire Striking Back...

On March 15, 2012, I updated my Facebook status.

This is noteworthy for two reasons.

First, I agree with "Columbus" when it comes to status updates:

So, I update mine about once a year.

Secondly, this update was special. Here's the scene:

I was just about asleep in my less-than-comfortable Turkish dorm room bed, which was a feat in itself in that place. Suddenly, my eyes snapped open, and I rushed to my computer. I had been hit by a philosophical conundrum like a freight train. My mind was instantly, and from out of nowhere, assaulted with this question:

I mean, honestly, what is a good dad to do? I want my kids to be idolizing Han Solo, I want them to be able to tell you why Boba Fett did not die in the Sarlaac pit, and of course, I want this:

But I also want my kids to think that Qui-Gon was the stud he is, and I want for them to see how Anakin turns to the Dark Side, and I want them to want to punch Jar Jar...

Little did I know that this question would create a great debate among the students on our trip and would be by far the most commented upon thing ever to appear on my Facebook. 

It was fantastic. People gots serious. This turned into a full-scale debate.

Some people were logical,

Others appealed to emotion...

 Some layered their good points in appropriate humor...

Some were controversial...

 Others were just plain funny...

 Or snarky...

This was the closest I got to an answer I could settle upon...

Despite the excellent responses, and the less-than-excellent ones, I still didn't feel at peace. I would still freeze up during that pivotal parenting moment. I couldn't decide. Quickly subject my kids to Jar Jar Binks and the Clone Wars before they could completely understand the butchery, or risk them losing interest in 45 year old special effects.

I was doomed to spend the rest of the nights in that dorm room restlessly tossing and turning; unsure of my to-be-parenting-skills. 

The question would fester until I just learned to live with it. I would forget my identity crisis...

Until.

A light from Bespin came beaming down in the form of novelty... and magazine print.

I opened this month's issue of Wired and gasped aloud!

They had tackled my Lucas-inspired dilemma.

Wired wrote up an article describing their perfect viewing order. It maintains the integrity of the original series AND allows for integration of the prequels.

To her credit, I had a friend who pointed this order out to me on that very status:

See that? I have friends who are months ahead of professional journalists.

I'm still not 100% sold, but here are the morals of the story:

1.  It will be absolutely fascinating to see where the profession of journalism will be in 10, 15, and 20 years.

2. Social media is the new way in which news is broken. People will find out about worldwide events because of their own personal accounts - not because of news anchors or paper writers. Which is incredible - and kind of scary. People will increasingly become aware of world events - a sorely needed quality. But more and more of the world will get their news in silos. People will simply filter out anything they don't like. The legacy of 24 hour news networks will be that people will be able to dismiss sources as irrelevant just because they have a different narrative of every story.

3. Star Wars is awesome. During the year of its 35th anniversary, this series is still creating and fueling debates. Most importantly, these movies are gaining new fans in every generation. Even now, in this generation, which will be the first without a Star Wars movie in theaters (if you count the Special Edition screenings). That is simply stunning.

If You Listen...

This was written in my journal 1 month ago. I do not mean for it to represent full truth, or even my opinion on the events in Syria. It was just so incredible for me to be talking to someone about what was going on as we were speaking. You see, Syrians are famous for being tight-lipped about their government and its current affairs. So, take my words not as gospel, simply for what they are. Words of the broken-hearted.

[Note: I have deliberately taken out any personal information about my contact out of respect for him, his safety, and the sensitivity of his words.]

Istanbul   February 4

 He was very nice and hospitable (as always) - and his English is impeccable. 

The most fascinating part was his willingness to discuss the current events of Syria. Once we asked him about it he wouldn't stop talking. There were tears in his eyes as he talked about 6,000 dead -

 "Not just a number. 6,000. That means 6,000 families, brothers, friends"

And his words were marked by the familiar Arabic questioning "for what?"

It was heart-wrenching to not be able to reply with any substance. Through his only-marginally-broken English, he spoke stirring words denouncing killing, demanding freedom, and asking for help. 

"Iran and Russia are friends with Assad. Why? They do not care about the killing. About our people. I don't understand."

What a difficult conversation to leave. I want to ask him so much more about his feelings:

"I know he should be tried - brought to justice - but in my heart I think he deserves the death of Qaddafi."

More about his family:

"Sometimes when I call them on my phone, I can hear guns firing."

And about the future:

"Civil war? Between who? Us Syrians make our country a good place because we look out for each other - not the police, not the government. We love each other."

It is incredible what you can find, if you listen.

Pray for Syria.

Days of the Future-Past...

I gave the following devotion to the group of Friday.

Past - Future - Present

Past
Think back to that far way time: 2011. Remember  yourself innocently. Think of where you were.

-You were home. Soaking up your last few days in America.

-You had no idea what you could get for just two Lira.

-You didn't know the taste of fresh kebap.

-You had no idea what roasted chestnuts smell like. Or how annoying that smell could be.

-You had never seen the majesty of Justinian's great church.

-You hadn't heard the call to prayer minutes apart from church bells.

-You had no idea what "bomba gibiyum" or "lavabos nerede?" meant. Or how useful they would be.

-You probably had no idea what the inside of a mosque actually felt like.

-Or what Syriani church services were like.

-Or how hilly Istanbul really is.

-You hadn't seen the fire in a Turk's eyes when they talk about politics.

-Nor the slow measured words used when other words like "Armenian" or "Kurd" come up.

You've come far! 2012 has been an eventful year! You should be proud of how much you have been blessed to see in two weeks. But, before we continue.
Think back to 2011 again. Remember what you were actually feeling like on January 5th? You weren't focused on January 5th, you were thinking about where you would be on January 7th! Us Westerners are trained to focus-on-the-future.

Future
Speaking of the future, lets try another thought experiment. Clos your eyes and picture this:
-Golden. The sunset reflects off of the sea. Birds fly by and cry out against the ocean wind. You're surrounded by beauty - but Izmir is known for its beauty. [Izmir]
-Now imagine a stone amphitheater. You can see a Roman path to your right and the ocean in the distance. The marble is warn out and chilly - but it's alive. Long ago, a man from Tarsus orated his letter in this very theater. Can you hear his words? "And now you Gentiles have also heard the truth, the good news that God saves you. And when you believed in Christ, he identified you as His own - by giving you the Holy Spirit, whom he promised long ago." [Ephesus]
-Now imagine a strange ceremony. It's religious, and somehow relatable, yet it's untouchable. It's bizarrely romantic. It seems totally normal that one of the most famous poets would find many muses here. [Konya]
-Now imagine silence. Warmth. Laughter. The beach. Relaxation. Refreshment. Slow-ness. [Antalya]
-Now imagine rock. Lots of rock. But imagine soft rock - not like Enya or Sting or Ray LaMontagne - like easily malleable. So easily malleable there are caves all around. Interconnected caves. Cities, even. All underground. Now imagine going into one of these caves and looking up to see a dome decorated with paintings of Mary, Jesus, and many angels - then, you realize that this is a church - an actual, ancient, underground church. [Cappadocia]

OK, open your eyes.
Sounds good, doesn't it?
But don't get too carried away just yet. These next two weeks could be really hard. You could be sick of that person who snores on the bus. You could be sick of buses in general. You could just be sick. You could be experiencing your first wave of homesickness. The future is totally unknowable - and it's impossible for us to live future-oriented.
Eventually, our future-oriented emotions - excitement, nervousness, anxiety, fear - they all run out. They hit their expiration dates. Or, you become so enraptured with them that you forget what it's like to live without them.

Present
So, this is a challenge.
To me as much as it is to you - to live in the present. To dwell on what the call to prayer means for you right now. To commit that Turkish to memory instead of flushing it our of your head. To think about your friends on the streets of Istanbul, and not the ones on the streets of Santa Barbara. To talk with the person in this room who you still don't know. To look at the people on Istiklal - not the ground or the buildings, but the people. To get a Turk to tach you backgammon. To see how present God is in this room - and out in the streets.

I'm going to play a song , and for the five minutes it's playing, just live in the present. Be with your thoughts. Find meaning in the words, or just listen to the melody. But shed yourself of anything regarding excitement or worry about the future or longings for the past, and just be here.

This is the song I played: