Archives for category: reconciliation

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.

I am deeply saddened, frustrated and outraged at the very idea that these kinds of things still happen in our day and age. I came across this story via Edward Gilbreath’s blog about a church in South Carolina where white members of the church performed in blackfacein blackface — for a Mother’s Day presentation.

Is it really necessary to explain to people why this kind of egregious conduct is so offensive? While it is vital that we educate people on the damaging effects of systemic racism, the fact remains that blatant, overt, hostile racism still exists. This story only spirals further and further downward as we begin to delve deeper into it.

This kind of behavior is unacceptable in any forum, but the fact that these people consider themselves Christians and presented this in church is absolutely dumbfounding. Seriously, what could such a horrible, offensive performance possibly have to do with Mother’s Day? Worse, the pastor of the church tried to pass it off as some kind of tribute to African American people and gospel music. Right, because our natural response to those we admire is to denigrate and dehumanize them. Worse still, the defensiveness, hostility and sarcasm of the pastor’s wife reveals the depth of their ignorance. In her own words,

“A little tiny blonde woman sang Randy Travis. So I guess Randy Travis should be offended,” Teresa Holbrooks said. “My husband pantomimed playing the piano. So I guess the piano should be offended.”

It is difficult for me even to gather a response to such overwhelming ignorance, but let’s go ahead and state what should be obvious to any human being — particularly someone who claims allegiance to Christ. I suppose if Randy Travis had been enslaved, attacked, degraded and oppressed by little blonde women for hundreds of years then, yes, he should be offended by such a performance. And pianos, if they were human beings created in the image of God, intimately known and loved, for whom Christ died then, sure, they should be offended as well.

Even worse than all of this was their “apology.” From their pastor:

Holbrooks gave a two-sentence statement: “Pilgrim Baptist Church and I meant no harm in the blackface skit. However there are those who have been offended and for that I am sorry.”

Anyone who has ever been in a relationship with another human being should realize that a conditional apology is not, in reality, a genuine apology. I don’t mean to parse out these sentences too much, but there is a serious problem with this pastor’s words — apparently, he is not sorry that they performed this routine; he is only sorry that they offended people. Or, to put it more cynically, he is only sorry they were caught red-handed.

Ed Gilbreath mentions a very troubling idea in his initial post on this topic that is well worth considering:

I can only speak anecdotally on this, but there seems to be a growing movement of white people—including Christians—who feel so victimized by political correctness (and how it’s robbing them of their rights) that they’ve hardened their hearts to any suggestion that racial injustice is a factor in our society today. And they’ve become cold to how their privileged words and actions might affect others. That defensive mindset and callousness could be the biggest obstacles to true reconciliation in our churches and nation.

It is deeply troubling that many white people seem to consider it their God-given right to use inflammatory, degrading, racist language and then become enraged when someone else calls them out on this. Certainly, there are racial prejudices and sinful attitudes among any and all racial/ethnic groups, but this attitude is uniquely troubling to me in white people. There is a kind of willful ignorance to the past, a bewildering sense of entitlement. People of other racial/ethnic backgrounds are told to “lighten up” because “it’s only a joke” and “I have some real good black friends.”

I know political correctness has almost exclusively negative connotations, and has failed in many ways. I experienced this during my first year in college during our university’s infamous “water buffalo” incident.

I am not advocating PC, but is it really such a terrible thing to have people engage one another in civil, polite discourse? Shouldn’t it be second nature, common sense, for God’s people to treat others with dignity and respect? I refuse to give into the shrill talking heads and shrieking pundits who equate “being real” with rudeness. I am fully aware that altering a person’s vocabulary does almost nothing to change their hearts — genuine transformation can only happen through the guidance and leadership of the Holy Spirit — but, again, would it really kill people that much to treat others with respect? In particular, followers of Christ who claim to believe what the Bible says cannot simply edit out the parts where God creates all people in His own image, replete with dignity, worth and honor.

And our words do matter. Jesus Himself said it this way in Luke 6:45, “Good people bring good things out of the good stored up in their heart, and evil people bring evil things out of the evil stored up in their heart. For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.” Hateful, racist words do not pop up out of nowhere, and they certainly do not flow from a pure, genuine heart for God.

Is there hope for our nation, for the body of Christ? Talking to people who willfully dwell in such ignorance is like beating your head against a wall. And yet, somehow, we are called to be messengers of reconciliation — with God and with one another. Although it is a small step for me personally, I am raising my voice as an Asian American follower of Christ to name this racist offense against the African American community as sin. May God have mercy on us.

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.

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.