Archives for category: community

Our daughter, like many other four and a half year olds, has lots of questions. For example, why didn’t she have school yesterday, even though it was a Monday – and doesn’t she go to school on the day after church? We explained that it was because we were remembering Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and everything he had done for us. Her eyes lit up and she smiled, asking, “He was a king?”

We began to explain to her who Dr. King was and why he was so important, especially for us as Asian Americans. I don’t want to talk down to my daughter, as if she cannot understand anything simply because she is a child, or try to gloss over the problems our world faces. But, at the same time, systemic racism is a weighty and difficult discussion for anyone to have, at any age.

While we were eating Pho on Sunday night, CNN was showing a retrospective of Dr. King’s life and legacy. We didn’t realize this, though, until our daughter asked us what those people were doing with the hoses and the “puppies.” We tried our best to explain how people who were African American were mistreated and abused in our country, and can you believe that someone would try to hurt others with firehoses and attack dogs? Our daughter was horrified — she explained indignantly that hoses are supposed to be used to help people by putting out fires and that we shouldn’t use puppies to hurt others.

We told her how Dr. King believed that God created and loves everyone, and that we should treat everyone the way that God wants us to, with dignity and respect. We explained that even though Dr. King shared this message peacefully, without fighting or hurting people, he was still put in jail. At this point, it was almost too much for our daughter to bear. Extremely frustrated, she said, “No — those people should have been put in jail because they were hurting people and being mean!”

My wife explained that, today, our daughter can go to school and be friends with everyone because of what Dr. King had done.  While we hope to sit down with her one day and share, in the words of Dr. King, “…the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice” we were glad to have this small chance to remember Dr. King’s legacy together as a family.

I shared my recent near-grifting last Sunday during our weekly teachers’ meeting. We marveled together at our capacity as human beings to lie so brazenly at times and how we could discern those who are truly in need. It is altogether too easy, in the name of being wise about sharing our resources, to close the door completely to anyone who asks for help.

The sanctuary in which we gather to worship together every Sunday afternoon opens almost directly onto a major street in town. When the doors are open, I can see the sidewalk and street from the pulpit. This past Sunday, while we were reciting Scripture together during our worship gathering, I could see a tall stranger, obviously in need, appear in the doorway. The first to speak with him was one of our Sunday school teachers. Because of that morning’s conversation about grifting, she told us that she was very cautious, and a little bit skeptical, in listening to this man’s story. A couple of minutes into the conversation, I saw this teacher leave in order to speak with my wife, who is also one of the pastors here at church. My wife greeted this man and spent several minutes in conversation with him as well.

Although he was looking for help, he did not ask for money. Rather, he asked my wife if the church could help him find some diapers for his two young children (seated in a car, visible, about ten yards away). My wife found one of our youth group students and the three of them walked across the street to buy diapers for his kids. While they were there, my wife purchased a large box of diapers and some juice for his kids. When this man asked how he could repay her, my wife simply told him, that when he was back on his feet, to share what he had with someone else in need.

As my wife listened to this man’s story, she asked him how he ended up coming to our church to ask for help. He told her that he had been to several other places that morning, including other religious communities, and had been rejected at every stop. He said he drove by our church and saw that our doors were open and thought, maybe, someone could help.

One of the things I admire most about my wife is her pure heart to love, serve and help those in need. To me, this story is a snapshot of what grace looks like. Sure, there’s always the chance that this man was running some strange hustle (I don’t know, re-selling these diapers on ebay or something) but grace always runs the risk of being misunderstood, abused or exploited.

Chuck Swindoll quotes Maryn Lloyd-Jones in The Grace Awakening:

If it is true that where sin abounded grace has much more abounded, well then, “shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound yet further?” First of all let me make a comment, to me a very important and vital comment. The true preaching of the gospel of salvation by grace alone always leads to the possibility of this charge being brought against it… There is this kind of dangerous element about the true presentation of the doctrine of salvation.

While the Lloyd-Jones quote above is referring specifically to God’s salvific grace extended to us through Christ, there is a similar principle at work in how we see and treat those around us.

I am not advocating recklessness in how we share with others. Generally, we do not give money to people on the street who might ask, preferring instead to buy food if they are hungry or, in this instance, some diapers for a family in need. However, there is always something risky about extending grace, unconditional love. In a world in which outreach feels like a timeshare sales pitch (Sure, it’s free… but first you have to sit through our 90 minute presentation) and “free” carwash fundraisers actually cost a five dollar minimum donation, grace is strange and unfamiliar.

Grace is stumbling across an open door. The grace Jesus extended to others, even those He knew full well would reject, swindle or otherwise disrespect Him, is hard to comprehend (some might even say amazing). Part of our dream for our community is that, when faced with the choice, we will risk grace. If our life is our mission and each one of us is part of the priesthood of all believers, then grace must be at the heart of it all.

Because of our church’s location, we encounter a relatively steady stream of people — many of them homeless — who come in and ask for money. Even in the year or so we’ve been here, we have met quite a few characters with a wide range of stories that span the spectrum of believability.

Yesterday, however, I met a man with the most elaborate story yet. For about forty-five minutes, John laid out his story of the difficult divorce he was enduring — that his wife of almost thirty years had been seeing another man for about a year and was in the process of draining him of all his resources: financial, emotional, etc. He said he worked in the area and had passed by our church many times but was compelled to stop by today because he was at the end of his rope and needed someone, anyone, to talk to.

My heart really went out to John. After all, who hasn’t felt let down by life before, harassed and helpless before a constant barrage of circumstances beyond our control? And, from the way he described his circumstances, things were going to get much worse before they might become any better. He said he was alone — no parents, no siblings, no kids. I listened, asked questions, tried to reassure him that God never abandons us, even if it appears that all hope is lost.

However, by the last third of our conversation it became readily apparent that he was asking for money. If we could just float him a loan for $150 he would pay us back by Friday, payday. This would cover his hotel costs for the week, you see, and he was totally good for it.

I don’t mean to come across cynically in sharing this story. In fact, my wife and I were ready to strain our meager financial resources in order to help him out. We want to be wise, however, in how we choose to help. I made a couple of phone calls and it became quite clear almost immediately that John’s story did not check out. He left for a “meeting” and, when he returned, I told him the church would not be able to help him out financially. He left quickly, but not before asking half-heartedly, “You don’t have any money, do you?”

At the risk of sounding naive or idealistic, I am still pretty shocked when a person can lie so brazenly — clearly, John knew which buttons to push and which heartstrings to pull. I suppose, since he was asking for more than just a couple of dollars to eat a meal, he needed an appropriately large story to match. I can understand a person’s struggle and desperation to make it. To quote Kanye West, “So I did, what I had to did, because I had a kid…”

I want to be part of the solution. I believe in contributing to organizations that have experience and expertise in dealing with the root causes of poverty and injustice. I wonder with the same ambivalence if that panhandler asking for a dollar will spend it on alcohol or drugs. Like others, I think I prefer to give a sandwich or buy a meal for someone who says that they are hungry. Had John’s story checked out, my wife and I were prepared to drive down to his hotel and cover his bill until Friday.

But, at the same time, I want to do more than cut a check from a distance and call it a day. As Shane Claiborne writes in The Irresistible Revolution:

Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He seeks concrete acts of love: “you fed me.. you visited me in prison… you welcomed me into your home… you clothed me….” The church becomes a distribution center, a place where the poor come to get stuff and the rich come to dump stuff. Both go away satisfied (the rich feel good, the poor get clothed and fed), but no one leaves transformed.

Learning to sort through and filter out the hustling, lying and scamming is part of the territory. Choosing to enter into the mess of someone else’s life always means getting your hands dirty. I don’t want the audacity of some grifter to harden my heart to others who are in need. Even John, who thought he’d come and pull a fast one on some dumb pastor, is someone deeply in need.

Like Eugene Cho, 2007 was my first year of really engaging the blogosphere (however, unlike Eugene, I do not regularly generate 200+ comments. Dat mange iz populerz like da kittyz!). In many ways, blogging has been a kind of spiritual discipline for me — though not nearly as awesome as Bruce Reyes-Chow’s take on blogging as spiritual discipline (Reyes-Chow in 2008!) and a way to get my head around different things, not to mention a forum for my inner music-nerd’s need to make lists.

One of the best, and most surprising, parts of this bloggy year has been making friends — actual friends with whom I have shared an inner resonance about life, ministry, music and community. Although I still worry that it sounds totally wrong when I say it, I am glad to have met several friends this past year through the internet. I have also been very glad to re-connect with several old friends via Facebook, potential scourge of humanity and harbinger of the apocalypse but wonderful host to online Scrabble and Tetris competitions. I missed the whole MySpace thing (most pages leave me feeling on the verge of a seizure) but FB has been a great way to catch up with friends from all over the country I haven’t heard from in years.

Yesterday, I met up with Jason Evans for lunch at Sipz (vegetarian food even a total meat-eater like myself can enjoy). While it was his impeccable taste in music (Battles! Old school San Diego noise punk bands! Hooray!!) that initially set off our email communications, I really enjoyed hearing about Jason’s intentional community and how God might be leading him & his family in the future. I find great encouragement listening to the stories of those for whom the Gospel encompasses all of life — for me, that’s what missional living is all about.

My wife was teasing me because I was all excited to have a friend with whom to attend concerts now!

… or, as we might say on the mainland, Merry Christmas!

Christmas is such a strange time for those of us in vocational church ministry. Advent is supposed to be a season of watching and waiting, but because this is one of the “Big Two” seasons of the church (Easter being the other one) it’s more like a season of hustling and hurrying. I’m not complaining, mind you; this is all part of the territory of church work. It’s just that it can make things more difficult to find moments of deep reflection, quietness or joy.

It was a happy surprise yesterday when our family had a chance to visit Christmas Card Lane up in Rancho Penasquitos, not too far from our home. Before visiting, I had my doubts. My father-in-law lives in what is basically a mandatory massive Christmas light display neighborhood. It’s kind of fun for our daughter, but all I can think of is the massive electricity bills. Last year, my father-in-law blew out the electricity in half of his house.

However, what we found in Christmas Card Lane was a neighborhood of mostly hand-crafted, personalized displays. Sure, there were plenty of lights but, clearly, the focus was on the larger than life “Christmas Cards” families had made and put into their front yards. How can seeing Charlie Brown and friends not put you into a good mood? Whenever I hear Luke 2:8-20 being read during the Christmas season, I hear Linus’ voice.

Snow White was our daughter’s favorite:

I’m partial to Calvin, myself!

May the joy that came down from heaven fill your heart to overflowing!