Archives for category: community

I think a good part of what I’ve been struggling with these days comes from missing friendship. I’m not trying to write a sad song here — I definitely have friends and acquaintances and, more importantly, a beautiful, supportive family. But, in the last couple of years since we moved out to California, I find myself missing the community we had on the East Coast more & more. My seminary days were tumultuous and difficult, but I treasure the friendships we forged there.

David Park recently shared some great thoughts about accountability, authenticity and friendship. As I read, I was reminded of the “accountability” group I was a part of during my seminary days. We would gather every week to share about our sins & struggles and to pray for one another. However, all of us being Asian American, I think we were pretty guarded. There were several things working against sharing what was genuinely in our hearts — we didn’t all know each other that well, we were all raised in an honor/shame culture, we were all men and the group was little bit too large to allow everyone to share in a reasonable amount of time.

Now, don’t get me wrong — I really valued, and still value, those “official” gatherings. But those kinds of accountability groups, as Joseph Myers points out in Organic Community, have a tendency to focus on the negative. As he puts it, “There is such an underlying expectation of failure” when all we do is keep “account” of our sin & failure. Even my personality (introverted, and shy to boot) works against the effectiveness in my life of this kind of gathering.

I found that simply sharing life together with these same friends set me on a true path. Laughter and joy keep my heart in order and provide perspective, keeping me from getting too wrapped up in my own problems. Actually being there together builds more trust in my heart than going around in a circle and sharing coded prayer requests with people who are essentially strangers.  And it is being there together that creates an environment where, from time to time, deep sharing can occur.

I suppose this is all tied into what I am feeling about my future in the church. I am tired of being part of commuter communities, where the sheer physical distance makes it virtually impossible to build deep friendships. I’ll probably say more on the problems of commuter churches some other time but, seriously, can we develop meaningful relationships in a couple of hours a week — much of which is spent sitting in relative physical proximity but never really engaged with each other? Or can a people’s minds really be there for someone else sharing late into the night at a weekly small group gathering if they know they have a twenty or thirty mile drive in order to get home after everything is done?

Maybe I just need a friend to go to the batting cages, or some indie rock shows, with me. It would relieve a great burden from my wife — who is an extraordinary listener, but who is burdened with the entirety of my worry, stress and frustration — and from me.

Being in vocational ministry can be lonely and isolating. I have really been feeling it these days — my struggle with depression has left me worn out, on edge and easily angered. This leaves me feeling like a failure as a husband and father which, in turn, leads to more depression and on and on. Ugh. I can recognize what’s happening inside of me — which is a pretty big step for me — but it is very difficult to actually break free from it.

Part of my sadness comes from feeling out of place. I don’t blame our church. In fact, I think they would be much better off with someone who understands the language and culture. Although I know it is commonplace in first generation immigrant churches, I find myself increasingly intolerant of “family ministry” meaning essentially “I want to get rid of my children for as long as possible while you supervise them.” Some of the things that are most important to me in life don’t really have a realistic place in the first generation immigrant church context, and that makes it extremely difficult to keep forging ahead in the same direction.

However, as much as I know there is no future for me in the first gen church, I have a hard time picturing myself in a second generation Asian American church context — or, at least, with many of these churches that I have encountered. Let me illustrate: we have a couple of close friends from Orange County who are part of an Asian American church. When the leadership team found out that his background was in the PC(USA) they joked that he was “just barely” a Christian. Sigh. I am weary of this kind of theological arrogance — what good does it do if I can quote Calvin and Piper verbatim, but still act like a gigantic jerk most of the time?

So, then, do we plant a church? Maybe one day, but for now the last thing I would want to do is try to build a new faith community out of frustration or hurt. There is holy discontent, and then there is just plain bitterness. I think I just want to be part of a community where we can be honest and open — maybe not constantly spilling our guts (that’s not really in my personality anyways), but at least one in which we don’t have to go through an elaborate charade every week (and in which “church” is more than once or twice a week in the first place).

Yes, I want to do everything I can to build the kind of community I believe in right where I am. But I would love to be a part of — and contribute to — a church that I am genuinely passionate about, where we have more than “vision statements” that sound great but have little bearing on our reality. I have to admit, though, that dream always seems just out of reach.

Marko has written a great post about the future of youth ministry [a link! let’s get those Technorati stats back up!]. He asks this vital question:

if youth ministry past was “proclamation-driven”, and youth ministry present is “program-driven”, what’s our hopeful ‘driver’ in the future?

And Marko takes the conversation deeper with this question about how we would shape the character and ethos of future youth ministry:

if youth ministry past was focused around key themes of EVANGELISM and CORRECTION, and youth ministry present is focused around key themes of DISCIPLESHIP and POSITIVE PEER GROUP, then what would be the key themes of this preferred future?

I love the discussion this has generated in the comments section of this post. It is beautiful to see the hearts of so many people dedicated to serving youth and the passion with which they love them. I really needed to hear these words; I have been pretty worn out lately, and it does my heart good to get my nose off the grindstone for a moment and walk alongside others, even if it’s just to listen in.

I think the amount of conversation this has generated also speaks to significance of asking the right questions — and Marko has given a wonderful example of how people come alive not through yet another top-down, I’m the expert with all the answers lecture but through excellent questions that get to the core of who they are and what they’re all about.

While I can’t say that I agree with everything in the comments (and, really, when does that ever happen?), I appreciate the deep engagement so many people have shown with theology and praxis. Of course, whenever I enter these discussions, I automatically begin filtering and re-processing my thoughts to contextualize it to Asian American youth ministry.

If we want to revitalize Asian American churches, so much of it begins with youth. This is part of what drew me back into youth ministry after several years of serving an adult congregation. Asian American youth (Korean American kids, in particular) are so churched, and yet this does not result in healthy churches. In fact, many young people end up leaving the church in droves, a silent exodus of thousands.

In the next couple of weeks, I will try to put together some thoughts about how I see the future of Asian American youth ministry — or, at least, how I would like to contribute towards building a better future.

Jonah Matranga is one of my favorite artists. His music has been influential on a wide variety of bands. His work in Far showed that it wasn’t a contradiction to bring together heartfelt lyrics and face melting riffs. And before Chris Carrabba was stealing hearts and gracing magazine covers and the Plain White Ts were in heavy rotation on every tween in America’s playlist (you know, the Hey There, Delilah guys?), Jonah’s work as onelinedrawing brought being a singer/songrwriter back into style in indie and punk circles. He has even been featured on a couple of hip hop tracks by Fort Minor and Lupe Fiasco.

While I am a big fan of his music, I appreciate his honesty and humility as a human being. I saw him perform to an audience of about twenty or thirty people last week at the Casbah and he sang with the same sincerity and passion as he does to a packed house of hundreds. Afterward, he manned his own merch table and stayed late into the night to talk with everyone who came. I had emailed Jonah a couple of weeks ago with some questions about his show — and he surprised me with a phone call the day before the concert. Although I was trying hard to hide my enthusiasm and play it cool, Jonah was extremely normal — just a friend reaching out to another friend and connecting. After his performance, we talked a bit about family and he gave me a big hug as I left.

One of the most fun parts of Jonah’s live performance is his wealth of stories. With a big smile, he introduced his cover of the Jackson 5’s I Want You Back as being the roots of “emo” — not Rites of Spring or Fugazi. And before singing his song Tides, he described how a major corporation offered him essentially a hatchback full of cash to use this song in a commercial. In the end, he said, he turned them down — not out of some high and mighty, punk rock ethic — but simply because it didn’t sit right with him. These days, music is commercialized to the point of “indie” music being indistinguishable from mainstream radio in terms of usage in ads and sponsorships.

Jonah made a really good point during his show about the importance of honesty. Some bands “sell out” but experience a kind of cognitive dissonance about it, and so they try to rationalize or explain away what they’ve done. However, wouldn’t we all be better off with a little more honesty? If Apple wants to use your song in an iPod commercial or EA Sports in their next video game franchise — and the prospect of swimming in a vat of the gold dubloons these mega corporations are willing to pay is really attractive to your band — then just be honest about it. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, you don’t have to score scene points with anyone — just do what you do with integrity and honesty.

I think this really hit me hard because I’ve been struggling with my current ministry context. Please don’t misunderstand: this is a good church , I love working with the students here, and our church’s leadership loves the Lord and His people. But I can’t help but feel that I’m not being completely honest to my calling — the thoughts about ecclesiology, mission, creativity, friendship and community that have been brewing inside me for quite some time now. I’m living in that tension, and trying to discern where this road might lead — with as much honesty and truth as I can muster.

I love this line from As Much To Myself As To You by onelinedrawing:

As much to myself as to you
As much a list of questions as
A list of what to do

Mystery, doubt, confusion. This is the mess that so many of us live in — I’m just hoping that it leads somewhere soon.

I had the chance to meet up with James Choung last week. My wife teases me about having “internet friends” (a phrase which could easily come across the wrong way if taken out of context!). While I am very glad for the camaraderie and kinship I find in the blogosphere, it is still nice to meet people face to face. James introduced me a great local coffee shop and we sat down and talked, laughed and shared for awhile. Because James is the San Diego staff director for InterVarsity, I picked his brain and learned quite a bit regarding the spiritual vibe and general scene of our local college campuses.

If you haven’t already seen it, I highly recommend this video clip James put together about “The Big Story” of the Gospel. A very creative and thought-provoking picture of what it means to follow Christ:

I am thankful for this reminder that the Gospel is a much bigger narrative than just my story. I love the paradox at work here, though: when I remove myself from the center of the story and gain some much-needed perspective, I experience a deeper intimacy with God. The mighty, providential God of all time, history and creation wants small, messed-up me to be a part of His story of reconciliation, redemption and rescue. It’s almost too much to wrap my head around.

Thankfully, I don’t need to see the entire metanarrative at once (not that I could, even if I wanted to); sometimes, sitting down with new friends and sharing our stories allows me, in small pieces, to plug into the overarching narrative of the big story.

Speaking of stories, James has written a book, True Story: A Christianity Worth Believing In which will be released through InterVarsity Press next year. I’ll definitely pick up a copy when it hits the bookstores, and I encourage you to do the same!