Archives for category: race

Being in town meant that I would not be missing our Sunday at church. While there is a definite downside to not getting away for the weekend, I could sense how God was using the words spoken through Francis Chan and Doug Fields to enlarge my heart further for my students. Maybe it was nothing revolutionary for them — I’m sure I still managed to lull them to sleep during the sermon today — but I’m praying that, by the grace of God, my love and prayers for them would ever increase.

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After a full day at church, I hustled over to the Town & Country and caught the Q+A part of Shane Hipps’ first seminar. I chatted briefly with him and wandered with him over to his next seminar (which turned out to be a good thing, because I never would have found the seminar room on my own. I’m really bad with maps and have managed to get lost several times this weekend) which expanded on several of the ideas in his book The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture, which I highly recommend.

One of the most important things Shane discussed was the oft-referenced idea, “The methods change but the Message stays the same.” This speaks to our efforts to adapt new ways of bringing the timeless, eternal Truth of the Gospel to different peoples and cultures. Unfortunately, though the sentiment is sincere and well-intentioned, it is also false.

As Marshall McLuhan said, “The medium is the message.” Shane did a fantastic presentation of McLuhan’s life, thoughts on media and the future and how this impacts us as followers of Christ. We must be clear-eyed about the ways in which the media we use — and not only Media Shout or MySpace — fundamentally alters the message we are trying to convey. I saw this illustrated at every general session — although I was often sitting only several yards from the speaker, I found myself (and saw most of those around me) watching the giant screens rather than the actual person in front of us. Shane gave a great quote about this: The screen always wins — it’s almost a creepy, bizarro take on “Love Wins” but it’s so true.

Although this seminar was very much about our current media culture, Shane was really addressing worldviews. And, even to take a step back further from that, Shane was addressing the forces at work that shape our worldview. Another McLuhan quote is helpful here: “We become what we behold.”

The printing press ushered in an age of linear, sequential, uniform, repeatable thinking as normative. And, in the modern world, we find this repeated in unexpected places — from the assembly line of cars and cookies, to the orderly, linear pews in our churches, to reducing the entirety of the Gospel into a sequential formula (e.g., Repentance of sins + Acceptance of Christ = Salvation to heaven).

However, the world in which we live changed long before the advent of the internet. Shane argues that the invention of the telegraph, photograph and radio began a dramatic shift in how we see the world. The telegraph, or “Victorian Internet,” broke the relationship between transportation and communication. The photograph recalls the stained glass of the Middle Ages — consider the difference between seeing the printed words, “The boy is sad” versus this photograph of a sad boy. The words are rational, linear and left-brained; the photo is intuitive, non-linear, right-brained — qualities that describe the shift toward postmodernism.

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I will interact more in the future with some of these thoughts. Shane’s seminar today triggered quite a few thoughts that I’d like to work through — especially regarding the built-in fluidity and ability of Asian Americans to navigate between and through different cultures. He was extremely gracious in fielding all manner of questions, and taking time out to chat with me a bit before leaving to catch his flight. It was interesting to listen to the line of questions that people raised afterward — questions about doctrine, defending our faith and jumping straight to the “take-home” revealed their linear, sequential, rationalistic mindset.

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I’m getting packed up just in case we need to clear out of here because of the wildfires raging around here. Please keep us in prayer.

I missed the second half of today’s NYWC because our family went up to Disney for their annual Mickey’s Halloween Treat night. If you have the chance to go, it is lots of fun — games, crafts, dancing and, of course, tons of candy. In any case, that’s why these are my reflections from Day 2A at NYWC.

The running theme throughout the convention is “Storyline” and the YS team has done a fantastic job so far in pulling together the idea that we are all part of God’s larger meta-narrative story. I love that in the room where we meet for the general sessions, they have even played with the way we sit — kind of an “in the round” experience. I was half-expecting one of those U2 circular-type stages where Crowder could run a circuit through the crowd :)

For me, Joe Castillo’s artistic presentation of the Creation story was totally new and unexpected. I can be kind of a cultural Philistine when it comes to art, but my heart was definitely moved by his “SandStory” presentation. Joe has a SandStory video clip of the Passion on his site, which will give you an idea of what this was all about. Marquis Laughlin presented a powerful monologue from the book of Revelation — what a voice! If I had a voice like his, I would talk all day long (not that I don’t already!). I love the fact that to kick off the first general session, we were immersed in the beginning and the end, so to speak, of The Story.

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I’m a sucker for old-school punk rock. I grew up skateboarding to Minor Threat and The Pogues, so getting to hear Flatfoot 56 for the first time today at the general session was really nice. I mean, seriously, how can a band with a bagpiper not put a smile on your face? I really appreciated the video clip in which Tic interviewed them and they had a chance to share their heart. They are reaching kids who might feel utterly rejected by the church by literally meeting them where they are — for example, opening for Irish-punk heroes Flogging Molly. I commented to the bagpiper afterward that this probably isn’t their usual crowd, but he smiled and said they knew this wouldn’t necessarily be their typical audience but that they still had lots of fun performing.

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Dr. Brenda Salter McNeil gave a stirring talk which used The Lion King as an extended metaphor for reclaiming our identities as the people of God and our role in pointing youth back to their true heart and calling. It will probably take a couple of days to interpret the scratches and doodles I wrote in the dark in my notebook, but I will share soon about some of the great things Dr. McNeil shared about the global story in which we, and our students, find ourselves.

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As I’ve said before, I’m a big fan of the David Crowder*Band. And, from what I could see today, it appears that so are most of the 4000 or so of us gathered here this weekend. From the opening quarter-note hoedown clapping of “Undignified” to the really green keytar and the exhortation that our singing was “pretty” but need to be much louder, it was classic Crowder — which is to say, the man really has a knack for leading groups of people into the presence of God. The Super Mario synth jam and the (somewhat frightening) video of Crowder as Mario were bonuses.

Singing “Remedy” this afternoon was particularly powerful for me. I think people who have criticized the Remedy album for being too simple have missed the point. I think David has always been an incredible lyricist — pushing the boundaries of our imaginations in corporate worship — and his skill has only grown over time. He evokes so much through so few words. Those of us in ministry (or who have suffered through the “sermon that never ends”) know that it is much more difficult to preach a meaningful short message than it is to drone on & on for an hour.

These words came to life as we sang:

Here we are / Here we are

The broken and used / Mistreated, abused

Here we are

Here You are / Here You are

The beautiful one / Who came like a Son

Here You are

So many of us in youth ministry are hurt, wounded and weary. That’s why I appreciated Marko’s words about the “holiness of wasting time” so much. We need to be honest about our brokenness, not hiding it by working even harder. But it’s not just a story of our brokenness; rather, as we view our frailty and limitations, “We lift up our voices / We lift up our hands / To cling to the love that we can’t comprehend.”

After reading this article about a series of nooses being hung all around the nation, apparently in response to what is happening with the Jena 6, I am saddened, disgusted and frustrated. Nooses, really? Our culture is digressing in troubling ways. I get the same sinking feeling that Eugene Cho wrote about recently, in his post Racism Sucks, about the vast difference in media coverage between crimes committed against white and black people.

There is so much hatred lurking just beneath the surface. People are so quick to pin the blame for the difficulty in their lives on someone else — it’s always “their” fault, whoever they might be. What is particularly infuriating about these noose incidents is the disgusting cowardice of these perpetrators. Like the Klansmen who hide behind masks, these people sneak around as they attempt to inflict terror on others.

I am reminded of an ugly incident that occurred during my seminary days. Several non-white students received racist, hateful rants scrawled across the message boards on their doors. Although the seminary convened a task force in response to these incidents, the perpetrator was never caught and the matter was essentially swept under the rug. Looking back, I wish I had taken a stronger stand in pursuit of justice instead of allowing the seminary community to act like nothing ever happened. Princeton is a wonderful community in many ways, but very proud and set in its ways — during my time there I encountered many people who were shocked to find that not everyone shared their worldview and that, in fact, their perspective was not normative for everyone else.

We are often guilty of perpetuating the culture of self-centered entitlement — Jesus died just for you, our church is all about your needs, etc. — instead of self-giving servanthood.  This sense that someone, everyone, owes me only breeds resentment and violence.  May Christ break this sick, self-perpetuating cycle of privilege and selfishness.

This morning, I stopped by a Christian bookstore to pick up some resources for our youth ministry. I was deeply disappointed to discover an old edition of Skits That Teach still on the shelves — the one that opens with a mocking, racist portrayal of a “Chinese food deliveryman.” Although it might feel like a long time ago, this whole commotion took place earlier this year. I have asked this particular bookstore to remove this edition on at least three occasions. This morning I sent both an email and a letter to their corporate office. Hopefully, this issue can be resolved quickly and simply. After all, the publishers, Youth Specialties, took extraordinary and decisive action to make this right. It seems like a very small step for this store to replace the old version with the updated one.

As draining and frustrating as this issue has been, I know that it it is only a very small component of the greater picture of racial justice in our country. It was only fifty years ago that nine African American students required the protection of the 101st Airborne simply to attend classes as schools became racially integrated. How could a society be so sick that a group of high school students required Presidential protection?

And yet, this is not a story that happened and we moved on from it. It continues to happen today. As Juan Williams writes in The Legacy of Little Rock, for Time Magazine:

American schools are still nearly as segregated as they were 50 years ago. Almost three-quarters of African-American students are currently in schools that are more than 50% black and Latino, while the average white student goes to a school that is 80% white, according to a 2001 study by the National Center for Education Statistics.

However, what might be more disturbing than this continued segregation is the underlying attitude that Williams identifies in the current state of our approach to education, race and civil rights:

…even as we celebrate what happened 50 years ago in the glory days of the civil rights movement, the political will to integrate schools in this country is long gone. So, too, is the desire to fix every economic inequity before delivering quality education to all children.

It is so easy to lose heart, to grow apathetic, to feel like things will never change. Maybe it’s because we think we’re beyond all of this “race talk.” After all, we don’t see hooded Klansmen murdering people or the police turning firehoses and attack dogs on peaceful protesters, right? Then again, the Jena 6 situation might suggest that we haven’t come as far as we’d like to think.

And yet, in the midst of this confusing mess, we cling to the promise of our God who makes all things new. I must believe that God wants to create His perfect shalom out of all our hatred, violence and nonsense.

In his recent post — “Multiethnic churches saying and doing different things” — DJ Chuang writes about the difficulties the church still faces when it comes to race. DJ notes that while it is a positive step for 9 Marks Ministries to take on the problem of racism in their latest issue, they do not engage these issues in a way that might actually provoke transformation:

I found most of their articles to barely scratch the surface of the embedded problem of race within the American church. While upholding the imperative to think theologically about all things, and perhaps due to the limited space of addressing such a complex and multi-layered problem, all the energy gets spent on theological abstractions and doctrinal priorities with little consideration for strategic moves to make long overdue systemic and structural changes.

Right theology, doctrine and belief are important. Sincerity is not enough; as the old cliche goes, there are plenty of people who are sincerely wrong. However, I am increasingly frustrated with the kind of emphasis on orthodoxy that is completely disconnected from the transformation of our lives. This kind of orthodoxy is almost paralyzing — any discussion of orthopraxis is immediately dismissed as “emergent” heresy or caving into the culture. In these circles, people can be overbearing, obnoxious cavemen (and it usually is men in these cases) who insult, belittle and demean others and yet still be held in high esteem if they promote their particular theological agenda with zeal.

The church fails when we evade the topic of race and reconciliation under the guise of upholding right theology. If our beliefs are so deeply held, shouldn’t we see radically different communities of faith rising up? Even if we overemphasize the personal nature of salvation, wouldn’t a result of having more Christ-like individuals be more Christ-like church communities? As DJ asks in this incisive but crucial question:

And, why is it that just thinking rightly about theology, the Gospel, and the cross, and supposedly living out of that faith, has not resulted in Reformed churches being any more ethnically-diverse than non-Reformed churches.

In the reviews of Growing Healthy Asian American Churches over at 9 Marks, the reviewers repeat the mantra of “doctrine, orthodoxy, doctrine” as their main critique. One reviewer writes, “Since doctrine must birth action, people must first know who God is and what he desires of them before adequately addressing the how-tos of church.” Even if we grant that this sequential nature of spiritual growth is true (which, as David Park points out below, is not necessarily the case), we still find ourselves in the same dilemma — where doctrine is emphasized as an end in itself, and never actually gives birth to action.

Further, I am disappointed with the criticisms both reviewers have of the theology and ecclesiology in GHAAC. Instead of criticizing the authors’ theology or ecclesiology as “weak” it would be more accurate — and honest — for the reviewers to simply say that they disagree with the authors’ perspective. The theology/ecclesiology described in the book is only “weak” if one considers one’s own perspective on these issues as normative for all believers and all churches. It seems that part of the point of having a book written by multiple authors is to gain a broad spectrum of insights; as such, it is not a legitimate critique to expect a book like this to articulate one clearly defined theology or ecclesiology.

Growing into the people God has called us to become, in and through Christ, is not always a neat, linear process — although such a concept squares nicely with a Western perspective, reality can often be a much messier prospect. David Park sums up this idea nicely in a comment on DJ’s site:

I don’t disregard the notion that discipleship comes with submitting ourselves to the transformative process of the Holy Spirit. However, I find that this “hierarchy of spiritual needs” to be retarding the activity the body of Christ is called to do. That’s like saying I shouldn’t raise children until I learn to be a good husband when the fact of the matter is, that the raising of children can positively impact my ability to be a good husband. Besides, when is ever a good time to have children? We don’t control these passions. I believe God calls us to those things that are on his heart and we should not say, you are skipping steps 5-17 before getting to 18, lest we become Pharisaical in the way we view of God. Love does not have to follow a certain order.

Perhaps, ironically, Western evangelicalism doesn’t personalize our faith enough. We emphasize personal salvation and sanctification, but prescribe a sort of one-size-fits-all approach. However, life is messy. No matter how badly we want to systematize, categorize, guarantee or prescribe a set pattern for growth, it will not necessarily look the same for each of us. There are certain common elements to be sure (e.g., prayer, Bible reading, fasting, etc.) but I think this kind of “my way or the highway” type of thinking doesn’t add much to the conversation.

On a personal note, I was really frustrated by Jeremy Yong’s accusation that GHAAC was “misleading” in many ways. In particular, Yong criticizes Soong-Chan Rah’s call for the church to acknowledge and confront systemic racism and injustice. Here is Yong’s quote:

Another misleading example comes from Soong-Chan Ra’s chapter on mercy and justice. He calls the church to confront “systemic injustice.” Then he names several examples like “the enslavement of Africans, the genocide of the Native Americans and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War 2” (197). Then, three lines down on the page, he speaks of the “racist attitudes” of LifeWay Christian Resources (of the Southern Baptist Convention) and their 2004 Vacation Bible School curriculum “Rickshaw Rally: Far Out, Far East.”

Huh? How can he mention the enslavement of Africans and LifeWay Christian Resources in the very same breath? Call LifeWay what you want, but is not comparing chattel slavery with the blunders of LifeWay an injustice itself?

I cannot speak for Soong-Chan, but I find it hard to believe that he is equating the Rickshaw Rally debacle with chattel slavery. However, Yong misses the larger point: LifeWay was not only guilty of creating a reprehensible, racist VBS program — their stubborn refusal to apologize or make amends reveals a deeply ingrained racism. In his misguided attempt at garnering sympathy for LifeWay by claiming injustice on their behalf, Yong does the entire church — not only Asian American followers of Christ — a massive disservice. We cannot continue to sweep these issues under the rug. It saddens me that these reviewers have no problem naming what they perceive to be the theological shortcomings of the authors, but cannot acknowledge the blatant sinfulness of LifeWay’s actions. Obviously, the Rickshaw Rally curriculum was not equivalent to slavery — but both find their roots in the same attitude.

I am not trying to dwell in the past. It takes courage to name and confront systemic racism in the church, but perhaps it takes even more to work towards understanding, reconciliation and love. As many have said, we cannot move forward if the needle keeps getting stuck in the same groove over and over again. A final word from DJ:

So let’s get to the fresh thinking about racism already, rather than concluding with the same song to get more theological and get more thinking about the racism problem. And let’s really dig deeper and recognize how culture shapes theology, and the lens by which theological constructs were put together may need re-examination and itself re-considered in a more multicultural context.