I’ve heard Charles Lee say that, while Erwin McManus is the face of Mosaic, Eric Bryant is the behind-the-scenes guy who makes it happen there.
In the audiobook version of his book, Peppermint-Filled Pinatas, Eric shares from his life, family and ministry experience with humor and grace. A quick aside: Eric narrates his own audiobook, which is a nice touch given the number of personal anecdotes and stories he shares.
Part four of my ongoing series of reflections on The Idea Camp (catch up on part one, part two, part three):
I loved seeing a wide range of speakers and facilitators presenting from the main stage. It’s not just diversity for its own sake (which can so quickly devole into tokenism). As David Gibbons shared with us at the Camp, creativity and life come from the margins, from intersections you might not otherwise cross. When we hear the same people making the same rounds from the same book tour on the same circuit…. well, you get the idea. That’s why I appreciated William Paul Young, author of The Shack, urging the National Pastors Convention to highlight women’s voices from the main stage there (this past year, the main stage was not the most diverse bunch).
The diversity at The Idea Camp was more than just cosmetic: we heard from pastors, non-profit innovators, business leaders, men, women, young, old, people from a variety of racial & ethnic backgrounds, the tech-savvy, the well-known and the not-as-well-known. Kudos to Charles Lee for his vision of bringing together a remarkable group of people to lead & share.
For me, as an Asian American, every conference I attend is a cross-cultural experience. Occasionally my wife and I talk about how difficult it is to find our place in life & ministry – not quite here or there most of the time. It was encouraging to be reminded that diversity is an important part of creativity and listening for God’s voice.
According to this article at ESPN.com, the LPGA has reversed its planned policy of suspending players who could not speak English:
Facing anger from lawmakers and bewilderment from sponsors, the LPGA Tour backed off plans to suspend players who cannot speak English well enough to be understood at pro-ams, in interviews or in making acceptance speeches at tournaments in the United States.
The policy has generated a storm of bad publicity since it was announced last month
Perhaps this is a testimony to Eugene Cho’s blogging power (and, if so, how can I get him to blog about people sending me gifts of gold doubloons?). In any case, this is a small bit of good news — even if it takes the threat of sponsors withdrawing financial support and possible legal challenges — that change is possible (although, really, the LPGA should have seen this one coming).
The Olympics are about the bringing the world together in perfect harmony, right? Maybe that was just an old soda commercial.
I have definitely been enjoying these Olympic games — in fact, I might be watching too much. The other day, my daughter identified the Chinese flag without prompting. And she’s never studied flags or nations or anything of the sort in her five years of life. It must be from all the handball, fencing and table tennis I’ve been watching.
The Olympics are supposed to bring us together, to provide a literal playing field upon which nations can come together and forget their differences. And yet, as the headlines of reality remind us, nations still continue to sabre-rattle, posture, provoke and invade one another. Even within the games themselves, we are reminded — despite Visa’s best advertising efforts (“Go World,” to which we respond, “Go where?”) — that we still have a long way to go in understanding one another. A very long way.
What would characterize a uniquely Asian American worship or preaching experience? Does such a thing even exist? asks David Park over at Next Gener.Asian Church.
It seems that, in order to answer this question, we must first begin with the primary issue of our identity, to know deeply what it means to be created as Asian Americans in the image of God. The “neither/nor” struggle — not being fully Asian nor fully American in our identity — has led to shame, rebellion and self-hatred. Because many of us have wandered through this fog for twenty, thirty, forty years, the quest to discover our God-given identity is not easily or quickly resolved. We need the Holy Spirit to repair, heal, restore and redeem the mess that we are.
headsparks* 