Belief, Restoration & Reconciliation

BOOK REVIEW: The Next Evangelicalism by Soong Chan Rah

(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…)

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Restoration & Reconciliation

Defending Equality: Skip Gates & Jimmy Carter

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.

Families, Children & Marriage, Restoration & Reconciliation

Talking to my five-year-old about war

I woke up last night gripped by a deep fear. Unfortunately, such occurrences are somewhat common for me. Sometimes, the fears are completely irrational because I am over tired or stressed – Monkeys chasing me through a house of mirrors, my foot turning into a giant piece of chocolate. Sometimes, like last night, the fears are more rational.

A few days ago, my five-year-old daughter asked me if people have guns in Sri Lanka.

“Yes.” I replied, which was followed by an inevitable why? “Well, because there’s a war going on there .” (We’d not yet told them about the war because they’d never asked.)

Another why.

“Because people are angry with each other.”

“Are Aththa and Seeya [her grandparents] angry?” she asked.

“No, they’re not part of the people who are fighting. They’re just living their normal lives there, like most of the other people.”

Continue reading “Talking to my five-year-old about war”

Restoration & Reconciliation, Travel

Chasing the Wind: The Fallacy of the American Dream vs. ‘The Good Life’

A deep bass beat rippled through the darkness of the dance club. Strobe lights flashed outlines of bodies, some clinging, some flailing, some just sitting and staring. A newly arrived English teacher to Burkina Faso, West Africa, this wasn’t exactly the way I had anticipated learning about a new culture. However, my new West African friends had mistakenly assumed that because I was American, this would be the scene in which I felt most comfortable. I am neither a clubber by personality nor a dancer by ability.

I ordered a Coke and did my best to play wallflower – not an easy task for one of two nasaras (white people) in the room. Pondering the scene, I realized ironically that I was the only person in the room not donning the “American” uniform of jeans and T-shirts. As the beat shook the walls, we abandoned our attempt at conversation and coolly turned our attention to the crowd, all the while Solomon’s warning about chasing the wind thundering through my head (Ecclesiastes 1 & 2).

With tight Levi’s, smooth moves, and Coke bottles, the clubbers of the night chased their imagined version of the American dream. In class, my Burkinabé students echoed similar assumptions, believing that American streets were literally paved with gold. Consequently, it wasn’t difficult to understand why a ticket to America was their dream come true (especially since most of the roads in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso’s capital city, were not paved at all). This mentality recurred throughout Ouagadougou – American flags on T-Shirts, pictures of American movie stars on billboards, or American rock classic playing in restaurants. Continue reading “Chasing the Wind: The Fallacy of the American Dream vs. ‘The Good Life’”

Families, Children & Marriage, Restoration & Reconciliation

Intercultural Marriage: a Model of Reconciliation for the Church

“Many waters cannot quench love,” I pondered Solomon’s words sitting on a dusty porch in West Africa, the afternoon downpour pounding on the tin roof over my head. “But they certainly do a good job trying to drown it.”

My boyfriend was spending the summer at his parent’s home in Sri Lanka while I was teaching English in Burkina Faso. At that time, there was little access to phone lines or email, so our only form of communication was the relentlessly slow exchange of letters. From the beginning, we had both sensed a unique kinship between us in spite of our cultural backgrounds.  However, we also realized that such a relationship carried many complexities, and that our cross-continental lives would not combine easily. When our respective summers ended, we reunited for the fall semester, somewhat unsure of our future together.

“You remind me of a Sri Lankan girl,” he told me one day, raising his deep eyes to meet mine. I had no idea what a Sri Lankan girl was like, but I was thrilled. Obviously, he connected deeply to something in me, regardless of my cornfield upbringing and blond hair. From the first day we met, I sensed an eerily similar reflection of myself in him. There were moments, of course, when we weren’t sure how to connect – meeting our families, interacting with hometown friends, navigating the chasms between third-world realities and first-world luxuries. While these cultural differences were a significant part of our relationship, our similarities ultimately prevailed. Nearly four years later, we married in a joyful ceremony, surrounded by family and friends from around the world.

Guide me, oh thou great Jehovah. These words sung at our wedding reflect our desire to follow God’s guidance in the steep task of uniting contrasting worlds.We entered the world of intercultural marriage as pilgrims in a barren land, knowing few role-models who had attained such unity across cultural boundaries. Together almost 10 years now, we have two young children and love journeying together through life.

While comparatively few are called to such an intimate cross-cultural partnership, all Christians have a responsibility to seek reconciliation across barriers. In an increasingly diverse society, our ability to establish unity across cultural boundaries is rapidly becoming a key factor in the strength of the church. Because we practice these skills daily, I have found lessons I’ve learned from our relationship to bea microcosm for cross-cultural relations at large.

Here are some skills we find useful in seeking unity across our own cultural differences:

Pay attention, be intentional
Sri Lanka is half way around the world from the U.S. At times, it feels very far away. Being so far removed from our lives, it is easy to fall into an “out-of-sight, out-of-mind” mentality with this part of my husband’s life. This has, at times, caused division between us because an essential part of his personhood lies neglected. Therefore, it is essential to pay close attention to the Sri Lankan part of him, and to seek to incorporate it in our daily lives. We both read the news and follow current events on a regular basis. Our home is filled with reminders of Sri Lanka, from batik wall hangings to photos of sari-clad relatives. We visit Sri Lanka as often as we can afford, prioritizing this over other options, even when inconvenient or complicated. We maintain regular contact with my husband’s family through phone calls, email, and pictures.

In the same way, many live in isolated communities and interact little with other cultures. People in these communities can make intentional efforts to consider differing perspectives by readingbooks or watching films, as well as by traveling to places where they interact across cultures. Just as I must intentionally seek to pay attention to my husband’s culture, so can people pay attention to cultures outside their own as an effort toward unity. As current events, dialogue, and perspectives from other cultures are encountered, a broader way of thinking and interacting with others naturally develops.

Share honestly, listen carefully

Romance, while breath-taking, is not particularly characterized by honesty. As the passionate romance of our relationship has settled into a committed, deeper love, we have shared many moments of intense honesty. At times, it is simpler to avoid such conversations, for we each have our own interpretation of “normal” and fear looking ignorant or prejudiced. However, this kind of honesty brings about true compromise, and ultimately, inner change.

Having grown up in a wealthy, stable, and efficient country, I struggle with certain aspects of Sri Lanka’s developing and conflict-filled environment. My husband has experienced these aspects as “normal” for much of his life.Because these perspectives form an integral part of our core-beings, we feel strongly vulnerable when sharing our fears. This fear creates a reluctance to relinquish my expectations of order, cleanliness, and safety, causing me to shut out a cherished part of my husband’s life.

In a similar vain, he has experienced certain “looks”, discomfort, and ignorance when interacting with people from my home. While I hold deep affinity for my home, it is helpful to separate from my personal attachments in order to hear his emotions. In doing this, I listen without defense, letting him process his feelings honestly.

Ultimately, honesty between cultures is not about being right orwrong. It’s about listening and considering another’s experience without defense or justification. In order to create a safe place for trustworthy relationships, people need to feel they will be heard when sharing honestly.

Be salad, not soup
The idea of a “melting pot” denies the individual characteristics that exist within cultures. A mixed salad is a more accurate comparison, as it contains various ingredients that compose one dish, yet retains unique qualities rather than dissolving everything into the majority flavor. Likewise, in our marriage, we attempt to value the individuality of each other’s cultures.

One way we love each other is by knowing about each other’s homes. For example, my husband knows things about my small hometown that only “insiders” know. He knows where the locals eat a hot breakfast, and the names of high school basketball players. Because he pays attention to my cultural background, I sense a deep love for who I am and where I come from. In the same way, I don shalwar kameez (a traditional Sri Lankan dress) every so often, can cook a mean curry, and enjoy building relationships with his family and friends. Each trip to his home increases my understanding of who my husband is.

When the majority culture blindly expects others to follow their lead without knowledge of other perspectives, they subtly send the message, “You are not important to me. Your importance is to make me comfortable.” Loving across cultures means that both sides release their grip on familiarity in order to experience deeper flavors of diversity.

While many waters could not quench our love, their rough waves have certainly smoothed our rough edges. In all of these ways, we embrace our own culture while keeping our arms open to the other. Guided by our great Jehovah each step of the way, we find deep richness in loving across cultural boundaries. Our hope remains that the church will deepen in its ability to love across such boundaries as well.