Archives for category: community

While we don’t want to overschedule our daughter, we have signed her up for a couple of fun activities this summer. She will be a part of our church’s VBS, of course, and a really cool day camp at SeaWorld later this summer — but today marked the beginning of this fun season. My wife and I tried to play it cool as we dropped her off this morning for the start of her two-week day camp (it’s still harder on us than it is for our daughter).

We like to interact with our daughter’s teachers. As people who have been involved in youth & children’s ministries for awhile now, we value the participation and input of parents. When we returned to pick up our daughter, the main teacher (out of three) greeted us with a big smile and said that our daughter had done really well. I was relieved to hear this; some of the older kids in the Pre/K group at church are pretty mean, and it has kind of given our daughter a complex about making friends. She is still a very friendly & outgoing kid, but this stress about not being able to make friends surfaces from time to time — resulting in huge heartache & frustration for us. A quick aside: if you find time to pray for us, this is the one thing that is constantly on my mind. My sincere thanks.

My relief was short-lived, though, as the teacher completed her thought. It went something like this: Your daughter did really well… I mean, her English is pretty good. It took me a second to realize what she had said. We explained that English is actually our daughter’s first language, because she was born here. The second teacher followed this up with, “Where are you from?” With wide-eyed disbelief, my wife responded, “Well, we’ve lived here in the States our whole lives, but our parents are from Korea.” The main teacher tried to brush it off with, “Oh, I could tell you were pretty Americanized, since your daughter brought pizza for lunch. Some kids bring those Hello Kitty lunchboxes with sushi, you know.”

A couple of caveats: I realize that they probably meant no harm. I’m sure they’re nice and all; just a little bit ignorant. I also realize that they probably don’t deal with many non-white people. This neck of the woods can be a little bit like that. I also understand that this is the world in which my daughter will be living for the rest of her life — I can’t shield her from ignorance forever.

Nonetheless, I am still extremely frustrated. This line of questioning — “Where are you from?” — reinforces the idea that of course we’re not from here. I mean, how could these Asian-looking faces be American, like the rest of us? Now, don’t get me wrong — I don’t want my daughter to assimilate, to feel like she has to run from her Asian-ness or push it aside for the sake of fitting in. Later, if one of her well-meaning white friends says to her, “I don’t even think of you as being Asian,” I don’t want her to take it as a compliment. I want her to be very confident in who God made her to be. While alienation and self-hatred has been the unfortunate story for many Asian American youth, I don’t believe that it must be part of the equation — and I am hoping & praying that my daughter can be spared as much of this heartache as possible. So, when her teacher asks her, “Where are you from?” and thinks it is really funny when she responds, “San Diego,” perhaps you can see why that would bother me.

On a personal level, I am really praying that I would have a thicker skin about things. Sometimes, the intensity of my emotional reaction to these kinds of situations precludes any kind of reasonable, constructive, or appropriate response. I don’t want to live with some kind of chip on my shoulder — I don’t want to give ignorant people that kind of control over my life. And, in all honesty, I think I have been better able to handle these kinds of things — at least when they deal directly with me.

For example, I am usually pretty patient with older Caucasian people who ask, “Where are you from?” just because they come from another world (these teachers from today, however, are not old at all — thus compounding my frustration). I can very politely tell these people that I think I know what they’re asking, but that it is actually pretty rude to ask in that manner (and, if they ask why it is rude, I will explain the whole alienation deal to them). I’m not sure why our racial ethnic background matters so much to some Caucasian people — I don’t often hear them asking each other, Are you German? Irish? Dutch? If one must know, then it is marginally better to ask, “Where are your parents from?” although this still carries much of the same outsider-connotation with it. Probably, it’s best simply to ask the question directly: What is your ethnic background or heritage?

However, when it comes to my daughter, my father-bear instincts kick in big time. I held back today because I don’t want to bias these teachers against my daughter just because they might perceive me as being some uppity Asian person.

Despite protests to the contrary, ignorant and racist attitudes persist today as systemic and institutional issues.

Remember the Skit Guys controversy from a little while back? I don’t mean to dredge up the past — certainly, the response of Youth Specialties, Marko, and the Skit Guys themselves showed that something good could come out of a bad situation. But, judging from the response of many people both at Marko’s and the Skit Guys’ blogs, we still have a long, long way to go. Some highlights:

Part of humor is laughing at ourselves. I hope we don’t become so sensitive that you guys can’t even minister. You guys characterize pastors, janitors, deacons, blondes, Christians, girls, boys…and all of those on purpose. And I love it! Is an Asian character not supposed to speak with an Asian dialect? I have not read the skit, but…at this rate you’ll be writing more apologies than skits.

Well, I have read the original skit and, though it might be pointless to try to help this person understand the underlying issues here, there is a world of difference between poking fun at a Caucasian pastor/janitor/blonde, etc. and laughing at the Engrish-speaking “oriental” buffoon, who clearly is not from here and does not, and could never, belong.

Or how about this little gem:

I pray that you don’t let this discourage you because in today’s society everyone is offended about something. God has truly blessed you two with the gift of ministry through comedy. I have seen you 3 times at the International Church of God Youth Conventions and you were awesome. Just remember that satan will use anything or anyone he can to try to keep us from glorifying God and spreading his Word. Just keep doing what you are doing….showing the love, mercy and grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ through the gift of christian comedy that he has given you!!!

Right, right… now I see — It’s the fault of uppity people of color that they are offended by blatant, degrading racial stereotyping. And speaking out for justice is obviously satanic. Our God (the same One who said, “Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” and commanded His people, “You shall not oppress a stranger, since you yourselves know the feelings of a stranger, for you also were strangers in the land of Egypt”) would clearly not approve of this.

I’m really hoping this works out.

Having enjoyed and been challenged by The Search to Belong, I have been looking forward to reading Organic Community by Joseph Myers for awhile. While I was a little bit sore at DFW for not having free wi-fi access (do people really spend ten dollars to get online for an hour?), I was glad to have a couple of hours to finish up this book.

One of my favorite chapters is about coordination and the difference between cooperation and collaboration. I have been a part of many top-down, master-planned, vision-casted church communities where falling in line is spun as “cooperating.” I love this idea of people actually working together and contributing in meaningful ways in church communities. Recently, I have been asked to take on several additional ministry responsibilities, including developing a college ministry and preaching in our afternoon EM service from time to time. I have been doing my best to print, copy and fold the bulletins for our EM worship services — a task previously performed by a couple of EM members — to free them for the more important ministry of relationship building. Eventually, when we need to print more than forty or fifty Sunday bulletins, we might need volunteers to come in and take care of it. For now, though, I really want to see our people invested in the things that really count — not just plugging them into our church’s perceived “needs” (folding bulletins, parking lot attendants, etc.). Having a big vision for the church is great but, if we’re not careful, it can lead us to love the idea of church more than the reality of where we actually live.

Myers gives a couple of interesting analogies about forging a new way forward in building communities:

We can be as intentional with community as we are with going to sleep. It is almost impossible to make yourself go to sleep. In fact, the more intentional you are, the less likely it is that you will fall asleep.

A more helpful way forward is to create an environment in which there is a good chance you will fall asleep… The same is true for community. We can have some control over the environments in which community usually emerges, but we have little or no control over community actually emerging. We can intend for the process of community to begin, but we cannot create community intentionally.

Think about the last party you hosted at your home. Did you offer a guarantee to your guests that they would have a good time? That they would make new friends? Of course not. But I’m sure you did try to create an environment that would help your guests feel comfortable and relaxed…

You would put food on the table, imagining perhaps that people would linger there… You probably played some ambient music in the background, soften enough that people wouldn’t have to compete with it, but loud enough that it might alleviate awkward pauses in conversation. You might have grouped chairs together in such a way to facilitate conversation. And so on.

Once I get beyond my tendency to jump right to the best-practices/takeaways (“Yes! At church we will now group our chairs in a certain way and play perfectly balanced ambient music in the background. And then we’ll grow our numbers. Thanks, Joe Myers!”) I am both challenged and relieved. Challenged, because I think most pastors have a certain amount of stubborn confidence in their leadership that is necessary at times (forging ahead in obedience to God’s will when it is difficult for others to see it) but can often lead to unnecessary conflict and hinder the leadership of others. But mostly I an encouraged, because this frees me from being solely responsible for the growth and health of our community (not that I ever had any control over these things).

I don’t know if I have ever really felt connected in a small group setting. I have had wonderful friends with whom I have grown, laughed, cried and prayed — but, somehow, when we formalize the relationship into an “official” small group it feels sterile and cold. Myers writes a little bit about this in his chapter on partnership and the difference between accountability and what he called edit-ability. The focus of many small groups is pretty bleak. As Myers writes,

There is such an underlying expectation of failure phrased in a language of absolutes and either/ors. If you truthfully answer any of these questions (e.g., “What one sin plagued your walk with God this week? Is your thought life pure? At any time did you compromise your integrity?”) with a less-than-perfect response, what happens?

We definitely need help in living for Christ, but all too often we interpret “iron sharpening iron” as, “You’ll be sharpened when I get all up in your grill and bust you for your long list of sin and failure.” This might work for some people, but the vast majority of people I have known cannot be coerced or shamed into loving God more deeply.

We can build a more positive ethos in our communities if we see accountability as a kind of author/editor relationship — thus, “edit-ability.” Here is the way Myers puts it,

This is how a good author-editor relationship works: The author submits a rough draft. The editor makes suggestions, even disagrees at times with the author. The author considers the editor’s suggestions, and will often make adjustments. The author and editor continue to go back and forth until the project is complete. The entire process is one of give-and-take collaboration.

The title of the book, “Organic Community,” calls to mind images of farming — not the pesticide-laden, hormone-added mass production kind, but the slow-food, small-scale local farmer. It is time to move away from the pastor as CEO concept (although this is still necessary for some large-scale operations), where one person stands before the entire group and hands down “the vision” to the masses. It might be a little too nostalgic, but I think there is some merit to the idea of pastor as farmer. We must cultivate the land; we must work with the conditions we are given (not as we would have them, or as our weather plug-in tells us); we must be willing to get our hands dirty as we attempt to steward new life; we must be aware of the overall balance of the farm — not pushing so hard that the fields become fallow, but not underutilizing our resources either.

We just received our first installment of our CSA membership. Though I missed the momentous occasion of picking up the produce, my wife called me to tell me all about it. The produce was fresh and tasty — and extremely natural. Upon shucking one of the ears of corn, my wife and daughter discovered some kind of corn bug in there. But instead of being grossed out, my wife was kind of happy to find the little critter in there because it showed that the food was not being bombarded with pesticides but was grown with care, naturally. When we lead an organic community, we might not get the slick production of excellence to which we’re accustomed but we just might find the friendships we’re looking for, corn bugs and all.

No, not this one

I was reading today over at Notcot (a great site for checking out aesthetically pleasing miscellany) about a store in Manhattan’s ever-hip Lower East Side called GrandOpening. The owners, brothers Ben and Hall Smyth, reinvent and re-open this 400-square foot space every three months — thus, the name “GrandOpening.”

In its current iteration, New Yorkers can test their table tennis skills against one another in pickup games or even in a season-ending tournament — the LES Cup. It’s not just for ping-pong players, either. Fans can watch from a small set of bleachers on the inside, or from a live feed on the web.

Call it a manifesto or a vision statement, but here is something interesting from their website:

GrandOpening is a store.
GrandOpening will have many “Grand Openings”.
Grand
Opening isn’t afraid to change its face.
GrandOpening will engage and entertain the community.
GrandOpening could be yours for a month, or two, or three.
GrandOpening might be different the next time you come by

If I were still living out there, I think I would want to stop by and play a game. Although it might border on being a bit precious, there is something whimsical and playful about this idea. A lot of church communities could benefit from some whimsy from time to time. I mean, would it work to substitute a church’s name in the purpose statement above?

Have you seen this ad? It is one of the popular series of Apple commercials touting the advantages of Macs over PCs. You can even find some church-related parodies of this ad, which are sure to spark some kind of discussion (I’ll save my thoughts on this for another time). In any case, when we purchased the laptops we use for church a couple of months ago, they came preloaded with tons of nonsensical trial software. If the goal of these companies was to harass customers and obstruct productivity, then job well done!

Fortunately, a church member recently offered to give our computers a nice little tune-up last week. In addition to receiving a much smoother-running computer, I experienced another corollary benefit: being without a computer left me with time to catch up on some reading.

I was able to finish Serve God, Save the Planet by J. Matthew Sleeth and most of This Beautiful Mess by Rick McKinley. For now, I wanted to share my thoughts about The Search to Belong, by Joseph Myers.

This book came to me recommended by Marko and, after finishing it, I can see why. As the subtitle of this book suggests, Myers wants us to reconsider some of our preconceived notions about intimacy, community and small groups. I have struggled with the way we often approach small group ministry — both as a member of such groups and, later, as a pastor trying to build community. As a member, I have often felt guilty for not sharing enough with the group; that, somehow, I let down the other group members by not spilling my guts every time. As a leader, I have felt disappointed in the failure of our small group ministries to yield success (deep connection! church growth! powerful community!).

Myers offers a welcome alternative to understanding what it means to belong. He expands our understanding of belonging by connecting Edward Hall’s idea of proxemics — “the study of how physical space influences culture and communications” — to building community in our churches. Hall identifies four different spaces in which people interact: public, social, personal and intimate. Myers argues that instead of trying to push people along the intimacy spectrum, churches must recognize that all four spaces are valid, important and necessary for building genuine community. As he writes:

We tend to think of intimacy as the “Mecca” of relationship. But would all relationships be better if they were intimate? Think of all the relationships in your life, from bank teller to sister to coworker to spouse. Could we adequately sustain all these relationships if they were intimate?

All belonging is significant. Healthy community — the goal humankind has sought since the beginning — is achieved when we hold harmonious connections within all four spaces.

It might sound like heresy in the contemporary church to argue that small groups are not the only way to build community, but Myers builds a compelling case for this idea. He writes about one pastor who led a church with a respected and successful small group ministry who confessed, “My small groups don’t really work. They never have. To be honest, I don’t think they’re for everyone. In fact, I have never attended a small group nor wanted to attend one.” It’s hard for me to describe the relief I felt after reading that quote — I’m not alone!

But this work is not an attack on small group ministry. Rather, it is a calling for churches to create environments where people can connect in many different ways. Myers posits, “If we would concentrate upon facilitating the environment instead of the result (people experiencing community), we might see healthy, spontaneous community emerge.”

Towards the end of the book, in the chapter called “Searching for a Front Porch,” Myers argues that churches should create “median spaces” that act as a symbolic front porch for people. He quotes Scott Cook, who says the front porch is “the zone between the public and private, an area that could be shared between the sanctity of the home and the community outside.” Now, I must admit that I am leery of writers who wax nostalgic about The Andy Griffith Show, as that has never been a meaningful cultural touchstone for me and often signifies a desire for a homogeneous white society. However, this is an important discussion — the disappearance of front porches from the architecture of most newly constructed neighborhoods mirrors the increasing privatization and individualization of American culture. In the current climate, churches can act as a “third place” (a location that is neither work nor home that provides community).

Myers devotes his final chapter to a dialogue (ah, postmodernism) between himself and a church leader who wants to put these principles into practice. I often find myself wanting to skip ahead to the take-away or transferable but, for me, the more useful part of this book dealt with the conceptual framework of understanding community. One potential concern: People often have a tendency to self-select into groups where everyone looks the same — without thoughtful and skillful leadership, emphasizing spontaneous relationships could end up feeding our highly individualized preferences rather than building loving, sacrificial communities.

This is a worthwhile book, perhaps even for the first chapter (“The Myths of Belonging”) alone. The Search to Belong provides eye-opening and thought-provoking insights into the difficult task of building community.