I am only a wannabe tech-nerd, and a relatively recent Mac convert, but man — the iPhone looks pretty amazing!  When I heard the original announcement about the iPhone I thought, Big deal — a wireless phone that plays songs.  Isn’t that the deal with most cell phones these days?  And the price — sheesh!  If I could find any in stock, I could buy two Wii systems for this five hundred dollar price tag.  But then I watched this video introducing all of the features of the iPhone — all twenty minutes of it (I think I just broke through to a new level of nerditude).  And now I’m mad at Apple because it feels like this cursed iPhone is now an indispensable part of a happy future for me.

I realize that I will never need, or use, most of the features included on this phone (I have no stocks to check on, no need for merging someone from call waiting into my current conversation, etc.) but that will not stop me from obsessing over this blasted device.  Think of all the YouTube videos I could forward, and with such ease!  I can zoom in on my photo collection just by spreading out two fingers over the image?  Sign me up!  It’s even better than Conan imagined…

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.

I have no hard data on this, but I would imagine that many people whose vocation is found in church ministry are pulling for more Tuesday holidays. Sundays are no Sabbath at all for most church workers, and many of us have Mondays off anyways :)

We didn’t really have a chance to celebrate Father’s Day this Sunday, what with running around like crazy people for the better part of the morning & afternoon at church, and then driving up to OC to my father-in-law’s place in the evening. So we decided to have our celebration on Monday instead.

After my interesting Mexican adventure, we decided to go to SeaWorld. We are season pass holders there. This is one of the benefits of living in SD: for most of the year, if you purchase a regular ticket at SeaWorld, you automatically become a season pass holder.

My daughter really wanted to take me to the tide pool there, which she recently discovered. There, children of all ages can pick up various starfish, conch and sea urchin. My daughter described the starfish as feeling “orange.” I wonder if that is anything like feeling Minnesota. We also took a fun Sky Ride around Mission Bay. Our daughter is quite a thrill seeker — our gondola lurched forward upon take off and immediately both her arms went straight in the air and she let out a heartfelt, “Woooo!” We pointed out the jet skiiers in the bay to her and told her one day we would ride together. She responded right away by shaking her head and saying, “No, I want to ride by myself!”

We took in the new Shamu show, “Believe.” It is quite a fantastic production, although I think they’re trying a little too hard to push the audience’s emotional buttons. For me, the best part was the four-piece moving video screen. As a wannabe tech nerd, it had me oohing and ahhing throughout the entire show. Sometimes the four images would be independent; sometimes they would move together to form one larger image. They could also rotate to show images from a landscape or portrait perspective as well. Like I said, I was nerding out over them.

We were also able to feed the dolphins. For some strange reason, one of my great dreams is to hug a dolphin. And a panda bear. We were able to go right up to the water’s edge and toss some little fish to the dolphins. They came right up to us and we were able to touch their foreheads. They feel, as many children have described during the big dolphin show there, kind of like hot dogs. What a joy!

prizes.jpg

We also went to play a couple of the carnival games there. The one game at which I consistently win (unless I get too cocky about it) is the tilted basket toss. I was able to win a small SpongeBob doll for my daughter there. But on Monday, I was able to toss a softball into a milk jug for the first time. My daughter had the choice of a huge dog, penguin or bear. She chose the large green care bear type creature.

Is there any greater feeling for a dad than seeing his daughter reeling under weight of the massive toy he has just won for her? Here she is, on the verge of collapsing under the weight of her victorious bounty. She also won a large dolphin on her own (kind of) by winning a water shooting contest against her dad. It was definitely a very happy Father’s Day!

Twelve of our church members left this morning for a week-long outreach to a village in the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico.  There is a coalition of Korean American churches who have developed relationships with several villages throughout the Yucatan, and our church is one of them.  Apparently, there are Korean descendants scattered throughout the peninsula — this connection creates a natural kinship between many first-gen church members and the villages to which they are reaching out.

Instead of flying out from San Diego International Airport, our team decided to take a domestic flight from Tijuana — a relatively quick jaunt (less than thirty miles) across the border.  I agreed to drive the church van to TJ and bring it back to church.  The only problem was that no one was quite sure how to get there (or back to the church if we did find the airport).  One of the KM pastors who was going with the team decided to drive there, having been to the TJ airport a number of years ago.  I sat shotgun, furiously writing down notes (which consisted mainly of scratches like “turn left at the roundabout near Costco, with the big LG flatscreen billboard” because of distinct lack of street signage) while one of the elders joked from the back, “Daniel, I hope you don’t get lost.”  My reply: “Well, if I end up in a Mexican jail, I can count on you, right?”

After crossing the border and driving about a mile into TJ, we were pulled over by the Mexican police.  The KM pastor, who speaks a bit of Spanish, began trying to convince them to let us go.  Surrounding the car were a couple of angry looking Federalis, and the associate pastor basically kept on saying, “Come on, fellas… iglesia… Just let us go.”  The federalis escorted us back to the inspection station at the border.

Fortunately (providentially?), our senior pastor — who was also going with the team — and another deacon met us at the inspection station.  Not only are both fluent in Spanish (our senior pastor grew up in Brazil, the deacon spent many years in Argentina) but both are really great with people.  It only took about fifteen minutes before we were on our way again.

Last week, I spoke to a pastor who had recently returned from reaching out to college students in Russia for three years.  We had some really great conversations about short-term mission work.  I know these kind of one/two-week trips have kind of fallen out of fashion in some circles.  There are some legitimate critiques — maybe the money spent on airfare, food & lodging would be better spent if we sent it directly to local churches; these trips are often treated as a spiritual quick-fix; we always hear the “same old” testimony from people when they return — “I didn’t realize people there were so poor.  We have so much here, we should be more grateful, etc.”… However, my conversation with this pastor confirmed in my mind that there is an important place for these short-term mission trips.

One caveat: I believe short-term outreaches work best in conjunction with the local body of Christ, whether that means connecting with a local church or long-term missionary.  The “shock and awe” approach to evangelism — where a completely independent, outside team storms into town with a big production, gospel tracts and salvation prayers, and then storms out just as quickly — falls far short of our calling to help people become lovers of God and followers of Christ.

But, in the context of working together with the local body of believers, there can be really amazing results.  This pastor described how vital short-term teams were in his ministry to local students.  For example, his family had begun organizing a camp for students.  While it was great news that 200 Russian students had signed up, they simply did not have the resources available to pull off such a massive event.  Cue the team of twenty college students from South Carolina.  They spent two weeks registering students, organizing schedules, building friendships with individual students and basically generating a lot of goodwill within the local community.  When they left, their enthusiasm and joy reinvigorated this pastor’s family and made a lasting impact on the community.

For now, I’m just glad I made it out of TJ in one piece.  Although it took well over an hour to get back across the border into the States, I did make it back in time for a very happy belated Father’s Day.  Let’s see about next Monday, though, when I have to try to find the TJ airport on my own.

David Gate has written a couple of posts urging the church to move beyond mere functionality in songwriting and McWorship and towards creativity, awe and wonder. David has written many incredible worship songs. His song, “Led to the Lost,” includes one of my favorite lines in any song (“worship” or otherwise) — As we follow Your heart, we are led to the lost.

His most recent album, Unapproachable Light, is well worth picking up, particularly if you’ve had enough of the radio-ready, adult contemporary, borderline-country, “modern” praise songs that fill the shelves at the local Christian bookstore. David writes:

Today it is possible to walk into a church in Sydney or London or Dallas or Vancouver or Johannesburg or Phuket or Sao Paulo or Helsinki or Belfast or almost anywhere that is connected to the rest of the world, and to sing the same songs. And more than that, to sing them in the same way. The music has resembled little else but Middle of the Road, American, radio friendly hits. It is full of common denominators, not a crime on its own, but its exclusion of other forms is concerning.

While I have experienced first-hand the joy of worshiping together with believers in faraway places through common songs (singing “Shout to the Lord” in a bamboo hut in a tiny Philippine village — in English, no less), I find it hard to believe that there are no songwriters who can express what God is doing in their particular community. I just met a pastor here in Dallas who spent close to three years in Russia, reaching out to college students. He shared about how amazing it was to sing the same songs with them (translated into Russian, this time) and how connected he felt to the global body of Christ. I believe it is important to have world-wide anthems that proclaim God’s renown to the ends of the earth. But I also believe that there are certain things that God is doing in local gatherings that can only be expressed through new songs rising up from these communities.

This is not only an issue for the global church — this relates directly to what is happening in many Asian American churches today. I can’t think of a single Asian American church I have encountered that did not have either a youth or English-speaking adult worship band. Most often, these churches have both. And yet, there has been a conspicuous lack of songwriting. Usually, we end up with a really great sounding cover band.

David Park tackled some of these issues in his post, “The Search for Asian American Worship.” I would love it if we could express something of our unique context in our music — I don’t know what that might look like, but what a glorious sound that would be! At this point, though, I would be satisfied with any songwriting. I have encouraged many students to write their own songs, but their fear of failure (truly Asian American youth) and lack of role models kept them from really pursuing this.

I’m not advocating a ban on Hillsong United or Chris Tomlin songs in our churches, though this could potentially yield some incredible results. We live in a time of unprecedented availability of worship resources and we would be foolish not to tap into them. But it seems like it would be a more faithful response from our churches if we balanced this use of outside songs with songs that rise up from the hearts of our people in our specific setting. Or, as DM says, we need to, “get the balance right.”

Incidentally, I was this close to purchasing this t-shirt until my wife reminded me how off-putting it would be to see a big guy like me walking around in a DM shirt. Next thing you know, she’s going to be rescuing me from mowing the lawn in a sleeveless undershirt, shorts, dark socks and slippers. So much trauma for so many Asian American youth, and all from how their dads dressed!