living a connected life
“In the West there is loneliness, which I call the leprosy of the West. In many ways it is worse than our poor in Calcutta. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty. There is a terrible hunger for love. We all experience that in our lives–the pain, the loneliness. We must have the courage to recognize it. These poor you may have right in your own family. Find them. Love them.“
-Mother Teresa
Something has baffled me for awhile now, and I’m wondering if anyone else can shed some light on this. In following the Deadly Viper controversy that emerged last week, I was reminded once again, that when Americans refer to “Asian”, they really mean “East Asian” (i.e. China, Korea, Japan, etc.) South Asia (India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, etc.) is really left completely out of the discussion, as evidenced by this website – I browsed a bit and everything was rooted in East Asian cultures. A simple Google Image search turns up almost all photos showing East Asians.
Whenever I teach, I generally try to refer to ‘East Asia’ or ‘South Asia’ because while the areas have some things in common, there’s a lot of culture that they don’t share. I hear my family refer to themselves at times as “Asian”, but they don’t ever seem to be ‘counted’ in the Asian discussion – this is reserved for East Asians. I’m not passing judgment on either side – just questioning something I don’t understand very well. Has anyone else ever wondered this? Is there history to it?
Read this poem this morning in “A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants“. Thought I’d share:
To struggle used to be
To grab with both hands
and shake
and twist
and turn
and push
and shove and not give in
But wrest an answer from it all
As Jacob did a blessing.
But there is another way
To struggle with an issue, a question –
Simply to jump
off
into the abyss
and find ourselves
floating
falling
tumbling
being led
slowly and gently
but surely
to the answers God has for us –
to watch the answers unfold
before our eyes and still
to be a part of the unfolding
But, oh! The trust
Necessary for this new way!
Not to be always reaching out
For the old hand-holds.
-From “A New Way of Struggling” by Susan W.N. Ruach
To struggle used to be
To grab with both hands
And shake
And twist
and turn
and push
and shove and not give in
But wrest an answer from it all
As Jacob did a blessing.
But there is another way
To struggle with an issue, a question –
Simply to jump
off
into the abyss
and find ourselves
floating
falling
tumbling
being led
slowly and gently
but surely
to the answers God has for us –
to watch the answers unfold
before our eyes and still
to be a part of the unfolding
But, oh! The trust
Necessary for this new way!
Not to be always reaching out
For the old hand-holds.
-Fro “A New Way of Struggling” by Susan W.N. Ruach
Zondervan has just released a book called “Deadly Viper Character Assassins: A Kung Fu Survival Guide for Life and Leadership” that left me nearly speechless, in a bad way. The racism and stereotyping is so palpable I am embarrassed that it is even associated with Christianity (though sadly, not surprised). Check out more info here, on the book’s website and on their FB Site (the video called “Deadly Viper Series Promo for Central” left my jaw on the ground).
Of course, my first reaction is anger. Then, sadness. How can the authors even begin to speak of integrity when the whole premise of the book is making fun of an ethnic group? Where is the integrity here?
The short story:
1. This is the clearest, most concise, and irenic book on a political issue that I have ever read. (And I don’t say that about many books, feel free to peruse my other reviews).
2. All Christians should read this book. This is an issue about which we cannot remain ignorant and silent. In fact, read it and buy an extra copy for your pastor.
The long(er) story:
I still can’t quite grasp what made a book about immigration so riveting and spiritual, and yet those are the two words I feel most accurately describe this book. While it’s not a page turner a-la-John-Grisham, I found myself chewing on ideas the authors had expressed and longing to know more. Combining the basic Biblical value of care for one another with the need for Christian involvement in immigration support and reform, Matt Soerens and Jenny Hwang lay out a clear, well-documented, and compelling examination of the state of immigration in America.
While keeping the value of the individual at the forefront, they examine the complex dynamics of undocumented workers, the history of immigration in the US, and legal components of our modern day immigration policy. While addressing concerns regarding immigration, they also present the positive effects that immigration has on a society. Finally, they close the book with a call to the church to embrace the ‘stranger among us’. Spiritually, I appreciated most their commitment to integrate justice, compassion, and truth by presenting both individual stories and national responsibilities. Their ultimate perspective seems well summarized through what Intervarsity pastor Bill Nelson says, “Whenever there is opportunity for the church to reach out to people in our communities, we must consider what it will take to further the kingdom. If it means putting down the American flag and raising the kingdom flag, that is what we should do.”
I’ve tried reading other books on immigration, but none of them have been so clear in connecting all the dots between history, policy, and Biblical mandates. Thank you, Matthew & Jenny. You’ve given us all a great gift. I’ll be passing my copy along to as many people as possible!
So six year old my daughter is very sensitive to race and often asks many questions about skin color, why she’s the only brown kid, why no one else is from Sri Lanka, why she’s the only one who has to eat curry, etc. (My son, on the other hand, has yet to figure out anything beyond race cars and fire trucks…)
This summer, we were processing some of her feelings about race while we were in Sri Lanka, and my daughter asked, “But mama, why is everyone in America white? Why am I the only one with brown skin?” (disclaimer: I *know* not everyone in America is white – please refrain from pointing this out… however, where we live there are very few non-white people, so it feels like this to my daughter). Wanting to help clarify my daughter’s understanding, I responded, “Well, honey, not everyone is white – there’s __ and __ and __. And everyone you see here is brown, right?”
She was too distracted to acknowledge my right-ness. “No, mama,” she said. “EVERYONE is white – and I’m not. Even Jesus is white!”
Well, she might as well have stuck a knife through my heart. Those blasted colonialist publishers who had to go and make Jesus look just like them – they were fully responsible for my child feeling on the outs. I collected myself and told her that actually, Jesus isn’t white, and that the people who painted the pictures of Him got a little too focused on themselves and didn’t pay attention to what Jesus really looked like. “He probably looked much more like you, hon,” I told her, hoping to soothe her angst.
“Really?” She was now listening to me, and seemed a bit relieved. We finished our conversation and the topic seemed resolved for quite some time – until we took communion several months later.
I’d told her she couldn’t take communion because she wasn’t old enough to fully understand what it meant. She was mad because she loves grape juice. (I was mad because I prefer wine for communion, but that’s a story for another day). The ride home from church entailed a detailed explanation of the components of and symbolism behind communion. Later that week, communion came up in conversation. I asked my daughter if she remembered what the grape juice represented.
“I know, mama. The grape juice is Jesus’ blood, and the bread is his – his – his – ”
“Body,” I completed the sentence for her.
“Yeah, that’s it! His body,” she seemed satisfied that the whole ritual was straight in her head. “But mama, there’s still something I don’t understand.”
“Ok, what is it?”
“Well, mama, if the bread represents Jesus’ body, then why do we use white bread?”
*Sigh*
As Kathy Khang says, “I need a manual for this.”
This is an excellent lecture by Eboo Patel, a committed Muslim, speaking to evangelical Christians at the Q conference in NYC about necessity of interfaith dialogue and collaboration. It’s very thought-provoking. I was primarily captured by his challenge for Muslims and Christians to interact on the common value for humanity that they share as the basis for establishing peace. What thoughts do you have about his lecture?
I just saw this on Amazon (published in 2008) and was surprised I haven’t seen it before. “In love but worlds apart” by Greta Shelling – looks interesting, and the author is certainly well qualified to write the book! She’s also written a workbook for intercultural couples called ‘Love across Latitudes“.
When my husband and I started dating 12 years ago, I searched fastidiously for a book on intercultural marriage. I found two excellent ones: Intercultural Marriage by Dugan Romano and Mixed Matches by Joel Crohn. Both were informative, and helpful, but for us, they failed to offer perspective on one important piece – our common bond of faith. Marla Alupoaicei’s new book Your Intercultural Marriage: a Guide to a Healthy, Happy Relationship seeks to fill this hole.
Your Intercultural Marriage seems best suited for young, Christian cross-cultural couples exploring the waters of intercultural marriage. It addresses topics such as engagement and weddings, communication skills, food, finances, and children. It is also full of movie and book recommendations, as well as lists of helpful questions to consider with a potential spouse. For a couple who has never before considered what dynamics might arise in an intercultural marriage, it is a thorough introduction to the concept. I will certainly be suggesting it to Christian college couples I know who are considering intercultural marriage. Continue reading “Book Review: Your Intercultural Marriage”
(Disclaimer: this is kind of a book review. Plenty of other people have written nice summaries and critiques. My thoughts here are probably more accurately labeled a book response.)
When I first heard Rah speak on the predominately white Christian college campus where I teach, a black friend leaned over and whispered, “He’s not actually saying that out loud, is he? I mean, we all know what he’s saying is the truth, but is he really allowed to say it – here?”
Her sentiments were confirmed when many of the students began squirming in their seats, uncomfortable at the sentiments regarding the colonialist role of White people in missions that Rah was expressing.I felt a bit mixed – relief at finally hearing this perspective expressed articulately and boldly in a public forum where the people who need to hear are present (not just preaching to the choir), and fear for how majority people would respond when faced with such difficult truths about themselves and their history.
I’ve been mucking through this race business for awhile now, and it’s just not easy stuff. Because of the lack of diversity where we live, my husband and I deal with race struggles on a daily basis – sometimes boldly, sometimes blindly. Because of this, I’m deeply indebted to Soong-Chan Rah for offering some leadership and bold thoughts for the blind moments we encounter as we work through our own cross-cultural relationship.
Perhaps the most challenging thing for me in The Next Evangelicalism is Rah’s premise that white people must submit themselves to the leadership of minorities if they are to be truly effective ministers of the gospel. While I am completely on board with this perspective, I found it challenging in some very practical ways as our family spent the time in Sri Lanka this summer. This trip, I particularly noticed the heat/humidity in Sri Lanka and found myself desperately longing for air conditioning. As my husband and I continued to toss around thoughts about how we might one day relocate to Sri Lanka, I found myself dreading this hot reality. “Couldn’t we just have one room of air conditioning?” I pleaded with my husband. “I don’t think I could really do this without air conditioning.”
Now, my husband is no beast (he’s actually quite a teddy J), but his response was simple: “No. It’s way too expensive. Only the wealthiest of the wealthy run air conditioning.” In my sulking, Rah’s words came back to me, “Submit yourself to them.They know what’s best here – not you,” I heard behind his words. Just because you’re white doesn’t mean it’s ok to live exorbitantly in the developing world – even if it doesn’t seem exorbitant to you.
Yikes.
This still feels a bit harsh to me, and yet also a bit true (uncomfortably so). What does that mean for the rest of how I might live? I mean – what about comfy shoes, quality make-up, a car? It’s a bit much for me to go there, and yet Rah is the first leader I’ve encountered in the evangelical world to poke at (or, perhaps more accurately rip the façade right off) this inflexible side of myself. So even though I’m still sulking/sweating a little, I also feel deeply indebted to him for his honesty with me. Like broccoli, I’m not sure I like it yet, but I suspect it’s good for me.
All of this being said, I LOVED this book and strongly recommend it to the entire church. I’ll be passing my copy to along to as many as possible. Well written, supported, and organized, Rah presents a strong base for his premise that global Christianity should not be defined by the White Western church, and that the White Western church also has a great deal to learn from our brothers and sisters who don’t carry the imperialistic baggage that we can’t even see. Rah writes boldly about the difficult reality that many are hoping we’ll be able to ignore, and for this reason, I look forward to hearing more from him.
(My one beef: Great subtitle/bad title.This whole “The Next name-your-ism” thing is going a bit too far…)
I stumbled up on a couple fascinating stories today regarding high-profile people defending equality:
Skip Gates found himself a victim and racial profiling and was arrested for ‘breaking into’ his own house. Read the story and another take.
Jimmy Carter severed his ties with the Southern Baptists over their stance on women.
Sometimes I grow weary when people step back and let things remain status quo. While I can understand the reluctance to fight such a big system, I also am struck by both of these men’s willingness to use their influence to highlight these injustices.
AP article courtesy my friend Josh…. This fascinates me. I wonder what it means for my kids? the future of US race relations? the world?
So this book really doesn’t have much to do with cross-cultural relationships, but I’ve found it quite helpful on general relationships, particularly those often times awkward ones forged in small groups. I’m not a huge fan of them, although I do love the general concept of intentionally getting to know people through regular conversation about meaningful topics. The problem I’ve found is that this rarely happens, at least in the small groups in which I’ve participated.
Finding the Flow addresses this reality and offers some very practical guidance on how to forge meaningful relationships through small groups. I especially appreciate how the authors encourage a strong knowledge of one’s self in relation to the group, as well as understanding of group dynamics and conflict. Each chapter has discussion questions and “Do This” exercises sprinkled throughout which are thoughtful, not cheesey. There are also tons of resources at the end of the book to utilize in small group situations.
While I detest Christian how-to books, I do appreciate clear, concise analysis on concrete yet realistic ways to tackle tough issues. This book certainly does that with wisdom, clarity, and honesty. Check out the book’s website for more information and resources.
Sorry for the loooooooooooong absence. First was Christmas travels, then our January term at the university that I spent somewhere between intense project mode and complete vegging out due to Christmas exhaustion and winter depression. We’re currently in the throes of the onset of second semester, so now I’m somewhere between completely overwhelmed by my newly realized workload and waking back up from the January slump.
A significant piece of this slump was influenced by the cultural isolation we experience living in a non-diverse environment. While there are many upsides to where we live (no commute, low cost of living, tight community, job satisfaction, balanced work-home commitments, etc.), one of the downsides that arises intensely at times is cultural isolation. I was explaining a bit of this struggle to an Asian colleague who’s moving to our town, and he commented, “But you’re ok, right?” suggesting that because I’m white & American, I don’t experience the same struggles that the rest of my family does. In a sense, I completely understand where he’s coming from, and he’s right. I don’t experience what they do. In another sense, though, it still affects me significantly because it affects the people I love most. My husband hit a significant low – basically just feeling lonely for people who see him as “normal” (and frustrated by people who eye him wearily) – over January and all I can do is listen, give him a hug, and try not to diminish his feelings of isolation. My daughter’s continues to ask about race, the latest being, “Mama, why is everyone white except me?”
While it may be easy for the casual observer to simply respond: “Yikes. Get outta there,” it’s not quite so simple for us. Yes, we do feel like this at times. But then there is also this issue of calling – a deep sense that we are to stay where we are for now, regardless of the challenge it holds for us. What I’m still trying to sort through is how to live ‘contentedly discontent’. Every so often I wonder what God’s purpose is for us around here, breathe in a deep breath of courage, and then let out a shallow, slow breath of exhaustion. It. is. so. stinkin’. lonely. doing. this. *sigh*
Anyone out there have experience/wisdom in this area? I’m sure missionaries experience this kind of isolation. How do you possibly survive when there’s no way you’ll ever fit in where you live? How do you survive the (at times) crushing tension of being a square peg in a round hole? One small request – I *know* that God carries us all through such valleys, but God does not come to my house to relish a curry dinner, or share a meaningful hug over the struggle of war in a home country or missing family afar. God IS here, but he’s also NOT here like people can be who share similar experiences. Hence, the cultural (not spiritual) isolation. Because of this, I bristle when people’s response is, “Trust God” or “You have a purpose here.” Both true, but not really addressing the root of the issue.
I do apoligize in advance for my grumpiness. But, it is what it is, and I’m guessing someone, somewhere has had similar feelings. Quite obviously, I don’t have perspective on this and I need some, but, hey, the only way is through, right?
I found this interesting…
Coming to grips with the alarming disconnects of our consumerist society: Priceless
(originally posted by Jim Moss on The Seminal)
between worlds 