Time: 3:18:57
Distance: 15.92 miles
우리는따로였던 두 영혼 앤드류 링크하트와 강유리가 이 결혼의 서약을 통해 하나로 함께 되는 것을 축하하고 기뻐하기 위해 모였습니다
Friends we are gathered to celebrate the coming together of two separate lives, to rejoice with Andrew Linkhart and Yuri Kang as they enter into this marriage covenant.
Woo-ri-nuen / ddaro-yut-dun/ du young-hone /Andrew Linkhart-wa / KangYuri-ga /e-kyul-hone-nui / sah-yah-kuel / tong-hae / hah-nah-ro / ham-ggae / dwae-nuen- guh-suel / chookha-hah-go / ghi-bbauh-hah-ghi, we-hae / mo-yut-suem-ni-da Just a few simple words. The groom was a handsome young American. The bride a beautiful young Korean. This was a very special day for Andrew and Yuri. Andrew’s twin brother and his parents from Longmont Colorado were here. Friends and extended family were present. The focus of the day should be on these two wonderful people who have blessed my life with their friendship. I now had the honor of officiating at the ceremony. I had practiced all week a few simple lines in Korean. Kim Me, who translated what I had written and served in that role during the ceremony, had patiently worked with me on diction, pronunciation, phrasing.
Is it possible to have language dyslexia? I swear the words that came out of my mouth are not the words in my brain. I have officiated at dozens of weddings spanning 35 years of ministry. Why was I so nervous with this one? Thankfully, the congregation had no interest in paying attention to the foreign minister. The focus was on the bride and groom. And a lovely wedding it was. It was so much fun to be a part of this celebration.
However, having a wedding buffet before a 16-mile run is NOT smart. I begin with this introduction to my long run because of what happened during the next three hours. As I headed down through Yonhidong, the words that I could not pronounce correctly or memorize were now flowing freely as I rounded corners, crossed streets, and moved with traffic. I could shout out the vows to folks passing by and they instantly recognized the words I was saying. I put the phrases of Shin-boo Yuri, hah-nue-nim-ggae / soon-jong-hah - yah / doo-sah-rahm-e / hahm-ggae / hah-nuen / sal-muel / chi- jahk- hah-myun - sah / kyul-hone-ui / sung-yak-uel /bah-dah-d(t)uel-(ria)yuh / Andrew-ruel / dahng-shi-nui/ shi-rahng-ue-ro / mah-ja / oh-nuel-boo-tuh / ah-pro / gyae-soke / jo-uel-ddae-na / nah-bbuel-ddae-na / booyoo-hahl -ddae-na / ga-nahn-hahl-ddae-na / ah-puel-ddae-na / gun-gahng-hahl-ddae-do / suh-ro / sah-rang-hah-go / ah-gge-gaet-suem-ne-gga? 신부 유리는 하느님께 순종하여 두 사람이 함께 하는 삶을 시작하면서, 결혼의 성약을 받아들여 앤드류를 신랑으로 맞아 오늘부터 계속, 좋을 때나 나쁠 때나, 부자일 때나 가난할 때, 아플 때나 건강할 때도 사랑하고 아끼겠습니까? to the music of Aretha and Willie. I introduced the couple to congregations gathered at stop lights and street crossings: Ghi- bbuen / ma-huemeuro / Kang Yuri -wa / Andrew Linkhart / bubu-ruel / yah-rah-b(p)oon-gge / so-gae-hahm-ni-da. (It is my pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Kang-Linkhart.) Folks would pretend either not to hear, or step back, clearing the way for the crazy guy. Words that would not come out properly during the ceremony, were now forcing themselves through my teeth, as if I had turned on the self-cleaning button on the oven. (You know, the ones, that once the cycle begins, you cannot stop until it is finished!) It was only in the exhaustion of mile 15 that the words subsided and I could think again.
Outside my head, Seoul was a busy city on this Saturday afternoon. Filled with hope and Hite, dozens of protesters rallied at Seoul Station around the cause of the oppressed. Police busses lined the streets coming into the station. Further down the boulevard, in the Yongsan area, another protest was in progress regarding the plight of poor home owners being forced out of thier homes by the government, some of whom had lost their lives in a severe fire just two months ago. Running along the railroad tracks, I passed a food kitchen sponsored by a local church. As I swung through the Hongik University Campus, a group of students were passing out phamplets raising awareness of the extreme conditions of poverty in North Korea. In the last mile, I passed through a block long neighborhood of simple one-room homes, some with tin roofing. Two women were squatting in the street, sharing the news of the day. See, the poor are invisible in the shadows of the multistory apartment buildings that are so prevalent in Seoul—but they are here, just as they are present across the urban landscape of our global village.
Often the poor only have words with which to fight their cause. Their voices are their only weapon. They need to be heard. But will we listen? Join me in running to end poverty one child, one family, one village at a time. Lift your voice in their cause. Let your words flow.
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