I still haven’t caught one of their notoriously ear-splitting shows live, but My Bloody Valentine has just released their first album in decades.

While this track might not be Only Shallow (but, really, what is?), MBV seems to be back in fine, shoegazing form. Observe for yourself:

Droney guitars, buried vocals, swirling fuzz — let the mopey rejoice!

One of the toughest things to break free from as an Asian American is fear.

Not of spiders or heights, but of failure and what others might think.

When I was younger, I would stay silent most of the time when I would hear racist remarks — even if they were directed at me. As one of the few Asian Americans I knew growing up in the Mitten, it was easier to stay silent and not rock the boat.

Ethnicity is a Gift

After I became a Christian, though, God began to do powerful work to restore my sense of identity in Christ. Our ethnicity is a GIFT, not a burden for which we should apologize nor an inconvenience to brush aside. When Jesus redeems us, He makes us into the people He dreams of us becoming — ethnicity and culture and all.

Speaking out about racism is vital for the Church — which often ignores ethnicity for the sake of growth (see: the homogeneous unit principle) or because it’s uncomfortable (or, in the worst-case scenario, because we’ve already printed the curriculum and why can’t you just get over it already). The Church is meant to be a diverse community where each person counts, where Jesus Himself tears down ancient walls of hatred and division.

Fight the Good Fight

Last night, at my daughter’s school choral concert, the grade levels were performing different Disney songs. The Lion KingTangled… and then Mulan. Each grade was dressed up in clothes that reflected their particular film — animal prints and safari clothing for Lion King, etc.

For the Mulan performance, a Caucasian boy came out in one of those conical hats hats that are often used in stereotyping Asians (for example, in scare-tactic political ads). Now, of course I know that this young man wasn’t trying to be a racist and, to be frank, I wasn’t particularly offended. The choral director for the school is Asian American as well (which, in an of itself doesn’t always make things right. I’m thinking of many people’s excuse of “i have lots of Asian friends and they’re not offended by my racist words/actions.”).

My wife and I work hard to instill in our daughter a sense of confidence about who she is in Christ — including her background as an Asian American. We want her to be empowered to live as a both/and person (as opposed to be neither fully Asian nor accepted as fully American). We want her to be able to shake off the little stuff, but be ready to stand up for what’s right, particularly on behalf of others.

Ninjas, Again. Really?

However, there are times where we must speak up. That’s why I was glad to see there was some positive resolution to a recent discussion about something called Easter Ninja — an online event designed to help churches with their outreach.

Of course, I know that in today’s popular culture — particularly in social media circles — there are gurus, jedis, rockstars and, yes, ninjas around almost every corner. I understand that, in this context, ninja is meant to imply expertise, skill, and a certain amount of I’m with it cachet.

However, as an Asian American, I cringe when I see this kind of branding. Personally, I think of how many times non-Asians have come up to me making karate motions or “Bruce Lee” sounds, pulling back their eyes, etc. For people of color, it’s often not the major blowout racist events (e.g., a Klan rally against you in town) but the compilation of years of microaggressions that causes us to lose heart and grow weary. Like this.

I’m sure the pastor organizing the Easter Ninja event means well — reaching more people for Christ at Easter is a good and worthy goal. I’m sure he did not mean anything racist by branding his event in this manner. I’m thankful for voices like Soong-Chan Rah and Mark DeYmaz who communicated these important issues to the organizer of this event, and that the organizer was open to listening and growing from this discussion.

Moving Forward

All too often, in cases like this, we see the following pattern:

  • Offending incident
  • Response
  • Overwhelming backlash to the response

Learning to listen is absolutely vital. We all have blind spots, we all make mistakes. The question is: How will we grow through these missteps and failures? It’s good to have fruitful discussions after mistakes have been made; it would be even better not to make these kinds of mistakes in the first place. In the big picture of things, this ninja event wasn’t such a huge deal — however, it is important to create positive momentum for future occasions that are a big deal.

Hopefully, as the Church, we will move forward in the hard work of racial reconciliation — not only for Asians or Asian Americans, but for people of all races and ethnicities. If we are to be faithful to God’s calling, we must move forward in unity, celebrating our God-given ethnicities while joining together in worship and mission.

A number of years ago, when I responded to God’s call to full-time vocational ministry, I willingly abandoned other lines of work that would have been much more financially stable (in particular, in the fields of consulting and marketing).

At the time, being young, single, and idealistic, it wasn’t too much to sacrifice financial gain for the sake of the call. Today, as a husband and father, it would be a significantly more difficult decision. Not because I believe in serving God any less, but because there is so much more at stake.

Over the last couple of year, I’ve been serving in a church, editing part-time online, and hustling for whatever freelance design gigs I can in order to make ends meet. As ‘Ye says, I had to did what I had to did ’cause I had to get. Please don’t misunderstand: I will joyfully sacrifice my time and comfort in order to provide for my family.

However, this has not left much time for self-reflection, particularly about big-picture or long-term dreams that God has put on my heart.

I want my life to count for the Kingdom – to see the oppressed set free, the lonely set in families, and for freedom songs to be sung in Jesus’ name anywhere and everywhere. When these God-dreams slam into reality, though, they are delayed and I can feel stuck. I get the feeling many of us feel that way.

It’s not always dramatic tragedy that sidetracks us but, often, a low-grade dissatisfaction with things as they are (and an unwillingness to change course).

My friend Marko offered up this compelling insight recently:

You don’t lack the ability to make the decision; what you lack is the willingness to make the wrong decision.

Leadership in faith is seeing what is not yet, but one day — by the grace of God — will be.

Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of changing things up: These are dream-killers. Thankfully, we are not left alone in this fight:

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear. – 1 John 4:18

It’s time for different outcomes. And that means different approaches — both to the big-picture and the mundane, everyday business of faithfulness.

I had an insightful conversation with my daughter recently. I grew up with so much fear, and I want her to be free of that burden so she can be everything God dreams of her becoming. We were discussing failure and risk, and she said to me:

The pain of failing only lasts a little while. But the lessons you learn from it stick with you for a long time.

Here’s to not getting stuck, but driving ahead through the fear — and failure — in grace and love.

Robots

I am, like many of us, quite wary of people who claim to have heard God speak to them.

As Anne Lamott writes in Bird by Bird“You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out God hates all the same people you do.”

That is, it’s way too easy for us to hear what we want to hear, and then attribute it to God.

However, I do believe God speaks.

Certainly, through Scripture — and not the “Bible roulette” kind of reading, where God’s Word becomes little more than tarot cards or tea leaves as we try to divine the future.

No, the kind of reading that engages us at the deepest level, where it grabs hold of our thoughts and to which we return again and again weeks after reading it. The kind of Bible reading that illuminates our understanding of how things are and the incomparable heart and character of God. The kind that challenges, upsets, and upends our way of thinking.

I also believe God speaks through His people.

Again, not through the blustery megaphone wielded like a sledgehammer or the arrogant presumptions of those who simply want to control others.

Often, I find that God speaks most powerfully through people when they don’t even realize He’s speaking through them.

A friend from our church community recently shared an amazing story about how God was at work in ordinary and unforeseen ways through him.

One of his friends, who we’ll call John — whose only religious background is Buddhist — had a dream in which someone came to him, handed him a book, and told him that if he wanted to be successful in life, he should read this.

When John opened the cover, he discovered it was the Bible.

My friend directed John to connect with a church in his area, and he has been taking steps toward faith.

However, God did not speak to John randomly, out of the blue (although I know God does speak powerfully through dreams, particularly in areas in which following Jesus is dangerous or against culture or law).

John revealed that it was a Facebook photo my friend had posted that got him thinking about what he wanted his life to be about.

That photo was from one of our church’s housebuilding trips across the border to Tijuana, Mexico. And as John saw this photo, it made him think that about sacrifice and service.

My friend is a phenomenal photographer with an amazing artistic eye. But he had no intention of proselytizing through his photo.

He was simply sharing with family and friends what our community was up to. And that natural discussion of how we’re joining what God is doing in our ordinary and everyday lives is, to me, an incredibly powerful witness.

May you walk so closely to Christ that you cannot help but hear His voice, and may He speak powerfully through you.

Clearly, blogging has not been a favorite of mine this year (although I should resolve to commit myself to more regular writing in the new year. I need to take a Buddy the Elf kind of approach to blogging: I just like to blog. Blogging’s my favorite.)

While this was a bad year for apocalyptic predictions, it was a good year for movie explosions. And my enjoyment of films is almost always directly proportional to the number of onscreen pyrotechnics. Three cheers for The Avengers, Looper, and The Dark Knight Rises. I greatly enjoyed watching Wreck-It Ralph with my family, and trying to explain all of the old-school gaming references to my daughter.

2012 was also a good year for old guys getting the band back together for the purpose of melting faces.

I missed Refused the first time around  back in the late 90s, but managed to catch them twice this year. I even managed to keep both my contact lenses in for the second show! Their genuine gratitude at being given a second chance to perform and their energetic approach to playing reminded me why I love punk rock.

Quicksand played a short, but mean set at the FYF Fest — it was worth kicking around in the dust to catch them (I’m really stoked to see them again in January!).

And, while it wasn’t the Drive Like Jehu reunion show I’ve been pining away for, I was blown away by SD’s own Hot Snakes at the Casbah. It took two drummers to maintain the intensity of their barn-burning punk set.

Not all my live music events were reunions shows, though. There was also the Christmas Unicorn:

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And now, a few of my favorite albums released in 2012, alphabetically:

 151a, by Kishi Bashi

Perhaps you’ve heard his song in that Microsoft ad? Multi-instrumental indie bliss. Always love supporting Asian Americans creating amazing music.

Violins + delay pedal + toss that beat in a garbage can, below!

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Bloom, by Beach House

So sleepy! Bloom’s dreamy shoegaze-y slow jams should bring you back to the 90s, in a good way.

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Swing Lo Magellan, by Dirty Projectors

Jangly, disjointed, frustrating. I don’t always like my music difficult, but when I do, Dirty Projectors.

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Shields, by Grizzly Bear

Headline: Indie bands have a hard time making money! Wait, that’s not news at all.

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S/T, by Monsters Calling Home (now Run River North)

My friend Wayne writes eloquently about why MCH/RRN matters.

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My Head is an Animal, by Of Monsters and Men

Are these Icelandic sprites the reason for MCH’s name change? Their songs make me want to knit an octopus sweater.

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Wrecking Ball, by Bruce Springsteen

If the Boss releases an album, I’m not saying no. Americana, and then some.

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Silver & Gold, by Sufjan Stevens

I’m a Christmas unicorn. You’re a Christmas unicorn, too.

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And a few that I’ve liked so far (but haven’t had a chance to sit down with): Metz, Future of the Left, and Japandroids. More noise!