Forever a Foreigner

I once read a comment that said, “Southeast Asia is haunted.” Cambodia definitely is.

People are deeply animist, worshipping spirits of all kinds and seeking to commune with the dead. People see ghosts, interpret dreams, and go to fortune tellers. The language has vocabulary words for categories of spirits that do not even exist in English. Christians speak of brushes they’ve had with demons. There is a cultural fascination with supernatural horror films, and children are always playing ghost games. Cambodia’s biggest holiday, Pchum Ben, is a festival for the dead, during which the cities are thick with altars and the smell of incense in the mornings.

“Sokun” (not his real name) is around 7 years old, a 1st grader. For about a year he has been one of the most faithful attenders of our kids’ club and church services. Sokun is incredibly sharp, the first to memorize the verse, and the first to answer the preacher’s question, even as he concentrates on copying a verse during the sermon. He’s all there, his curious mind turning. No one else in his family is connected to the church, so at home he is immersed in Folk Buddhist beliefs.

The week before the Pchum Ben holiday, after showing me his cool jumps, Sokun asked me, “Teacher, do you believe in ghosts? Teacher, where do the monks’ beliefs come from?” I had my hands full watching toddlers during prayer meeting, so I looked into his bright eyes and promised him, “On Sunday I will teach about this, about ghosts and what the Bible says.”

Sokun had begun to recognize the tension between what he’s hearing at church and what he hears at home and in the community.

I prepared a special lesson, a lesson which really could have been titled, “The Spirits of the Dead Do Not Roam the Earth.”

Sunday came, and Sokun was there bright and early. We walked down the street to call other kids, and Sokun trotted beside me, asking question after question as usual, prefaced by “Teacher, Teacher!” Then he said, “Teacher, how many temples have you visited?” He was mimicking the adults around him, asking the social question of the holiday. During Pchum Ben, people try to visit multiple temples to make offerings. It is said that the spirits of their dead relatives will wander seven temples, looking for their living relatives’ offerings to feed them. So people ask each other how many temples they’ve been to, comparing. The more you’ve been to, the more religious piety you have. Hearing this question from Sokun’s mouth, I was reminded again how confused he must be.

I had 6 kids for class, and because I failed to arrange for extra helpers, I also had our church’s 2 toddlers, who are cousins. For ease, I will call them Big T and Little T. (Spoiler: they will misbehave). We did not have our usual teaching space, so we were under a house on stilts. The kids all had to sit on a mat on the floor while I sat in a chair to teach. There were two small pickup trucks parked next to us. The gigantic pot of Khmer curry for the fellowship meal simmered over a fire pot a few feet away.

My first point I tried to explain was that the monks’ religion (Buddhism) was created from the thoughts of man, but the Bible comes from the Creator God.

(Little T tries to go out the gate and cries on the top of his lungs when he is prevented.)

The next point I had to address was reincarnation. The Bible says that we have only one life. We are born one time, and have only two parents. We die only one time, and after that there is judgment. So, there is no reincarnation.

Briefly, I covered that we have bodies, but when we die, there is a spirit. The kids already knew about this, easy.

(Big T helps Little T into one of the trucks, where he starts playing with the key that is in the ignition. He has to be removed. Cue more screaming.)

Then we got to the main discussion. Where do spirits go after we die? The answer: heaven or hell. If they accept Jesus, they go to heaven. If they don’t accept Jesus, they go to hell. But, I emphasized, once the spirits go to one of these places, it is closed. They cannot come out again.

Sokun interrupted. “But they can, Teacher! At Pchum Ben the praich (hungry ancestral ghosts) come out of hell.”

“No,” I said, aware that I was directly contradicting what his relatives and friends must be saying. “The Bible says that they cannot come out at all. Not even at Pchum Ben. No spirit comes back out of heaven. No spirit comes back out of hell. They stay there forever. So, that’s why people who follow Jesus don’t go to the temple. They don’t make offerings, because they know that no praich are there. No one comes to eat the food. So it’s of no use to offer food, because no one is there at all!”

Sokun was silent, absorbing the information. I knew he was dressed up because later he would be going to the temple to make these very offerings to his own dead relatives.

(Big T decides it’s his turn to cause a scene and climbs into the other truck, honking the horn. He is ordered to come out.)

“So, children,” I asked, “what about ghosts? There cannot be ghosts, because all the spirits of the dead are in either heaven or hell, and cannot come back.”

Da-Lin asked, “Teacher, why do adults say that kids can’t play in the dark then?” (Adults often threaten children with ghosts to keep them from doing dangerous things.) “My friend said if you play hide-and-seek in the dark, then a ghost will eat you.”

“Your friend speaks without understanding. But sometimes people do say that they see something. Have you heard people say that?”

A chorus of “yes!” broke out, and there was a burst of stories.

“Sometimes people do probably see something, but it’s not a ghost or a dead person’s spirit. Do you know what it is? Evil spirits that we call demons, who follow Satan. Sometimes they will change their faces to look like ghosts. Why? To make people afraid and make them not want to follow Jesus. So if you see anything one day, it is probably an evil spirit. But it is not a ghost.

“So that’s why people who follow Jesus aren’t afraid of ghosts, because we know that there aren’t any. When we go to the graveyard, we aren’t scared, even if we are close to the graves, because the person’s spirit isn’t there. They are in heaven. And we don’t offer food, because no one is there.”

Da-Lin said, “Oh, it’s nice to be a follower of Jesus, it’s so simple for us!”

“But when someone dies, people who follow Jesus are still sad,” I emphasized. “They still love that person. They miss them. We can even go and clean up the graves, but we don’t make offerings. We don’t go to the temple.”

Sokun interrupted anxiously. “Teacher, in my family, I’m the only one who believes in Jesus. So, they go to the temple, and I have to accompany my mom.”

“Yes, I understand,” I said to him. He identifies himself as a follower of Jesus, but what does that mean for him? “You are still a child, and you go with your mom.”

(Little T approaches the fire pot on tiptoe, hoping to see into the pot. He has to be rescued and warned.)

I kept going. “Some people say that those who follow Jesus don’t know how to honor their parents and grandparents because we don’t make offerings or go to the temple. But the Bible tells us that because we have only one life, it is very important to honor our relatives while they are still alive. We need to show love and respect to them while they are living.

“Who lives with their mom and dad? Who lives with their grandma or grandpa?”

Hands flew up. Every home situation was different. Sokun said he has his grandmother at home and a grandpa. I know he also has a stepmom and a dad.

“How can we show love to them?” Suggestions flew. Sokun said if he had money, he would buy his mom a gift. Every day he helps his grandma by doing yard work and fetching things for her.

(I lose a student as she runs off to control the toddlers. Rather than give up on teaching the lesson, I allow it.)

“How else can you show love?” We discussed obedience and saying, “I love you.”

As I wrapped up the lesson, Da-Lee crouched at my side and started braiding the tassels at the fringe of my shrug. Soon she was joined by Da-Lin and Sokun. These kids.

“Do you have any more questions?” I asked.

“So, where do the monks’ beliefs come from?” Sokun wondered again.

Still, this question? I explained again, patiently, that a man from long ago came up with the beliefs and taught others. Sokun listened, and did not ask again.

How much of this chaotic lesson did these kids get? How much will they remember? What might come of this, now that Sokun and potentially his relatives realize that Christianity is not compatible with their beliefs and way of life? I don’t know, but I know God will not let his Word return empty.

May God give grace to these young hearts and rescue them from darkness!

May God use me as a light in this dark community.

May others respond to God’s call to come join us in sharing the light with Cambodians.