Archives for category: hope

Over the past couple of years, I have written a handful of articles for the online edition of Relevant magazine (you can find them archived on the sidebar under “My Writing). As their tagline suggests, the articles are categorized under the headings of God, Life and Progressive Culture. One might find articles from established authors such as Scot McKnight and Doug Paggitt alongside many other, lesser-known voices. Some articles come and go quickly and quietly, while others (which, for example, might be based on misquoting a famous rock star) generate some boisterous discussion.

One recent article about the environment caused a bit of a stir among some readers. While some might not have understood the format (“You can’t write a letter to the environment, you idol-worshiper!”), the most off-putting objections created a false dichotomy between being a good steward of God’s creation and sharing the Gospel with non-Christians. In a stunning display of logic, one commenter argues that caring for the environment is a slippery slope, inevitably leading to acceptance of homosexuality and abortion. Interestingly enough, this commenter also claims that creation care is a political, not kingdom, agenda — though this person’s politics are readily evident.

I recently completed Serve God, Save the Planet by J. Matthew Sleeth — it’s featured on my “Currently Enjoying” page. Sleeth does much to dispel the myth that people who care for creation must be mother earth-worshiping pagans. Just the opposite — for those of us who love Jesus and take seriously His command to love God and others whole-heartedly, we are compelled to care for His creation.  As the title implies, the greatest command is to love and serve God — but we must recognize that responsible living and creation care are expressions of deep, genuine love for God.

Sleeth argues that living an environmentally responsible lifestyle is a biblical mandate. He warns us not to equate “dominion” over the earth’s resources as a license for wastefulness or greed. Far too many Christians have justified their harmful lifestyles with faulty theology.  Picture the Bible-belt businessman who was caught dumping toxins into the water from which local residents drew their drinking water.  His response?  Well, Jesus is coming back anyways, so what does it matter if we trash the place?

For those who worry about elevating the care of creation over care for human beings, Sleeth writes, “Being pro-stewardship is not a case of valuing forests more than people; rather, it means valuing human possessions less, and God’s world more.”  Indeed, if we genuinely want to love our neighbors as ourselves, then we must be conscious of how our lifestyles affect them — especially the poorest among the world’s poor.  Sleeth writes from his personal experience:

This honest inventory (a personal assessment of the environmental impact made by his family) is what the Christian faith required of me. How could I say that I was being a good steward when I was causing so much damage to God’s creation?  How could I say that I cared about my neighbor when the poorest people are most affected by the climate change that I was causing?

In essence, caring for creation and being a goods steward is part of our response to the central command to love God with everything we have and to love others in the same way. We love God by caring for what He has created and partnering with Him in its stewardship.  We love others by recognizing that our lifestyles have a direct impact on them. Even for those who argue that a Christian’s only responsibility is to share the words of the Gospel with others, we cannot witness to people if they have already been killed because of the climate change, drought or famine that was dropped on them.

This has been a slow process of small changes in my life.  For example, my wife pointed out to me early in our marriage that I would let the water run the entire time while I brushed my teeth and washed the dishes.  I shudder to think of how much water I have wasted in my lifetime, especially given how limited access to clean water is in many parts of the world. So now, I shut off the water while brushing or washing dishes.  Recently, we have begun trying to drive our cars less.  In Southern California, it would not be uncommon for a person to drive down the block to see a friend instead of walking.  So these days, if I need to pick up a coffee while I’m at church, I will take the ten-minute walk instead of the thirty-second drive.

One of the things I am very excited about is the CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) we just signed up for.  Through the Tierra Miguel Foundation, we will be picking up about fifteen pounds of fresh produce every two weeks for less than $17.00 a week.  In this age of mass production of food, we are glad to be able to support a local farm.  The food is organically grown using environmentally-sound principles, so it is good for the earth.  And it is locally grown, so it reduces the negative impact of shipping food across long distances (exhaust from the long-haul trucks, wasteful packaging, etc.).

We might take our daughter to visit the farm during one of their volunteer days.  Although learning about creation care can be a bit stressful for her at times, we want her to develop a God-centered perspective early (which is not easy in our princess-obsessed culture for little ones).  After all, it makes more sense to start with simple living rather than trying to combat years of having a materialistic perspective.

I have been encouraged and challenged by the many communities who have seen that creation care is an integral part of God’s message of redemption for the entire world.  I hope this thread also runs through my life and the communities of which God calls me to be a part.

Reconciliation Blues by Edward Gilbreath achieves something more powerful than mere “balance” in addressing issues of race and reconciliation within the American evangelical church. [ht to DJ for highlighting this book on his blog]  Gilbreath confronts the reality of racism in the American church (whether those in the majority culture choose to acknowledge it or not) with dignity and strength, while also offers a compelling vision for reconciliation — a rare feat in this polarized age of sound bites and pundits.

Gilbreath is interested in much more than simply “playing the race card” or doing a Geraldo-style undercover expose of how African American people get hassled at the mall (although this is still a shameful reality in our nation).  In the prologue, Gilbreath introduces macro ideas about racism, “For many people, ‘institutional racism’ is now the term invoked to describe the unnamable brand of discrimination we experience today… sociologist James Jones provided the most concise definition in his book Prejudice and Racism when he described it as ‘those established laws, customs, and practices which systematically reflect and produce racial inequities in American society.'”

Perhaps taking a cue from chic-onomics tomes such as Freakonomics and The World is Flat, Gilbreath peppers his big-picture take on race, faith and reconciliation with a variety of powerful anecdotes throughout the book.  I had to read this particular passage several times — I was at once outraged and stunned that such a thing actually happened in our nation’s recent past:

As Dolphus (Weary, national speaker and executive director of Mission Mississippi) left the library on April 4, 1968, a white student approached him and said, “Did you hear? Martin Luther King got shot.”

“I remember running to my room, flipping on the radio and listening to the news report,” he recalls. A rifle bullet had ripped into King’s neck as he stood on a motel balcony in Memphis, Tennessee.  The civil rights leader was rushed to a hospital in serious condition. “I was devastated,” Dolphus says.

As he sat on his bed holding back the tears, he could hear the voices down the hall: white students talking about King’s shooting. but Dolphus quickly realized that they were not just talking; they were laughing.

“I couldn’t understand what I was hearing,” he says. “These Christian kids were glad that Dr. King — my hero — had been shot. I wanted to run out there and confront them.” Instead, he steeled his nerves and lay prostrate on his bed. Finally, as the newscaster delivered the awful update — “Martin Luther King has died in a Memphis hospital” — Dolphus could hear the white voices down the hall let out a cheer.”

I can barely type out these words without feeling my heart both ache and begin to boil over.  But this is where the power of this book becomes clear.  If we are to move forward into genuine reconciliation, then we must honestly address the ugliness of both personal prejudice and systemic racism. Otherwise, we achieve little more than photo-ops and temporary guilt relief.

As an insider for many years in “white” evangelical Christian circles, Gilbreath has a unique ability to shed light on something many white Christians may have never considered.  Though they might not be perpetrators of hate crimes, many of these well-meaning people do not realize that the white, male, Western perspective on Christianity is not normative for all believers. In fact, that very worldview has often been the reason the church has shamefully lagged behind the world in terms of race.  About his life within the white evangelical world, Gilbreath writes:

But it has also meant living within a religious movement that takes for granted its cultural superiority. It has meant disregarding the occasional stray epithet or ingoring shortsighted comments that beg for a retort. You’ve heard them, perhaps said them: “I don’t even think of you as black,” or “Why do black people need to have their own beauty pageants and magazines and colleges? If whites did that, we’d be called racists.”

If, by chance, you found yourself saying “Yeah, why do they need all that stuff?” I highly recommend that you read this book, along with Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? by Beverly Daniel Tatum.

Gilbreath acknowledges the difficulty of moving toward reconciliation, sharing personal stories with candor. And yet his voice remains hopeful throughout the book — not a false cheer that turns a blind eye to racism and prejudice, but one that confronts its paralyzing effects with the Gospel of Christ for all nations.  He shares examples of real church communities who are working through these issues together, including both successes and failures. I am particularly thankful for Chapter Ten, “The ‘Other’ Others,” in which Gilbreath thoughtfully addresses issues that other racial/ethnic cultures face in the American church — including Native American, Latino and Asian Christians.  Even without this chapter, I would have heartily endorsed this book — its inclusion only deepens my respect for the author.

I hope this important book makes it into the hands (and hearts and minds) of many readers, especially those who might not ordinarily be inclined to take on issues of race and reconciliation.

My wife and I spent most of the day picking up pastors at the airport and dropping them off at our church for a conference on transitioning into house church ministry.  We started around 9:00 am, and because of a distinct lack of planning, we ended up going back and forth about ten times throughout the day — wrapping up around 5:30 pm.

It wasn’t until we picked up our daughter, purchased up some much-needed groceries and got settled in at home that we found out the extent of the tragedy at Virginia Tech.  When we left our place in the morning, the story was just starting to register on the morning news.  By the end of the day, an unimaginable tragedy.

It’s strange how these types of events move us to self-reflection.  Hopefully, it’s more than just narcissism at work, where even world events point back to ourselves.  Massive tragedy reminds us that we are not in control, and how frightening that can be.  I remember when the Columbine shootings happened, during my seminary years.  I was sitting in a roomful of bright, devoted, funny and usually very chatty youth workers in a youth ministry class.  But there was a heavy silence that day, tears and confusion filling the space where thoughtful conversation normally existed.

I hate how the news anchors, and even the entertainment wrap-up hosts, roll out stories like this as the “big story” of the night.  They try to behave with a professional demeanor, forehead slightly wrinkled to convey sincerity. But there is always a hint of enthusiasm in the voice, almost as if they are glad to move on from tainted pet food and car bombings far away.  The graphic in the background lays out the statistics of the highest death tolls from different shootings in our recent history as if we were checking batting averages or free throw percentages.

Evil can be so real and present.  That lingering fear disrupts our security, brings up those dormant questions of theodicy — how can such evil and a good God coexist?  There are answers, great answers, to those questions. But to someone who just lived through such terror, how does any of this make any sense?

I hear the words of the psalmist and I want to be comforted.  I want these words to comfort others.  I want to believe.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging

May the real presence of God be closer than any terror, a refuge in the face of violence, strength when ours crumbles into the foamy waters.

Today’s Christian magazine, a publication of Christianity Today, just published this interview with Soong-Chan Rah entitled, “Speaking Up for Asian Americans.” [h/t to DJ for the heads-up on this interview]

In the interview, Soong-Chan gives a brief overview of the recent Youth Specialties/Skit Guys controversy and the LifeWay Rickshaw Rally debacle. More importantly, he is able to discuss some of the larger, underlying issues regarding race, faith and the church. For example:

Why do you think this type of incident happens in Christian circles?

We’ve simplified issues of race so much in the American church that we fail to see some elements, some larger issues of race. It’s not just individual prejudice, but larger racial injustice. Sometimes, these are issues we don’t talk about in the Christian community. American society is changing; there are more non-whites. Yet in leadership, those writing and reviewing Christian books still tend to come from the white community. It limits the point of view.

We assume if we’re Christians, we are all the same, equal. That’s not the way life operates.

Though many of us are probably going through a bit of “Skit Guys” burnout, I am glad to see that the larger issues at play here are still being discussed. It would be too easy to say we’re sorry, make nice and then pretend like nothing ever happened. Sort of like those “last night of the big retreat” testimony times where one sibling tearfully apologizes to the other for using a shovel to bash in the other’s nose and then, upon returning home, immediately reengages the same lifestyle patterns. Reconciliation is slower than we’d like, most costly than we might imagine and messier than we plan, but can we pursue anything else?

Because of DJ’s glowing review, I am hoping to pick up went out and picked up Reconciliation Blues by Edward Gilbreath in the near future today. I am encouraged to see, both in his book and on his blog, that Edward has raised in voice in support of the Asian American community. So often, we treat racial reconciliation as a zero-sum proposition — if one racial ethnic group advances, it must be at the expense of another. During my seminary days, there was a series of ugly racial incidents. Most involved African American students, but one was directed at an Asian American student. During the ensuing fallout, I remember feeling that the Asian American incident was lost in the shuffle. Looking back on it, I realize that this was due to the lack of participation of Asian American voices — not the strength of other voices. I don’t know if we were too wrapped up in balancing studies and ministry, or if we gave into apathy, but in the end we abdicated responsibility for justice and reconciliation to others. This could have been a powerful witness of solidarity with our African American sisters & brothers, as well as speaking out on behalf of our own community.

That’s why I am also challenged by Edward’s post linking to the aforementioned article. While it is a significant step for us no longer to play the role of the quiet, passive Asian American and to let our voice be heard, it is also vital for us to speak in solidarity with other members of the body of Christ. While some in the majority culture might be tempted to brush us off if they perceive our indignation to be self-serving (which is not right, but it happens), it is an extremely powerful witness for us to stand up for those who might not be members of our communities.

a quick update about “skits that teach”…

i emailed zondervan, youth specialties and the skit guys toward the end of last week regarding a racially offensive skit that was published in a book called “skits that teach.” my cynical side was fully expecting another “rickshaw rally”-type showdown, but so far, things have been encouraging.

first, i received thoughtful responses from everyone i had contacted. i say thoughtful, because in contrast to lifeway and their stubborn refusal to admit that they had done anything wrong, zondervan, ys, and the skit guys all expressed sincere remorse for what had happened. more importantly, they have agreed to edit future editions of the book to remove the skit and remove current editions from the bookshelves.

i suppose now, all we can do is wait and see how the parties involved follow through on their commitments, but this appears to be a positive start.

david park, over at next gener.asian church, shared some thoughts about asian-americans moving beyond issues that exclusively concern our communities. i certainly agree that our biblical mandate is to speak out for the oppressed, voiceless and marginalized regardless of their race or ethnic background. however, my experience in the asian-american (korean-american, more specifically) church has emphasized personal piety — almost to the exclusion of concern for others. even building houses for families in faraway places serves only as a means to an end — sharing an eternal gospel that has almost no bearing on our present reality, other than to get others to do the same. simply to get as/am believers motivated regarding issues that directly affect us is an enormous task. hopefully, it can serve as a springboard toward a wider, more balanced (and biblical) concern for others.

i think it is a very powerful witness when we are able to advocate for justice for others outside of our community. may God give us His heart and awaken each one of us with care, concern and passion for others around us.