Dave (personal) — No comments
08
Oct 11

In memory of my mother’s birthday without her…

It’s 7:45pm on a Saturday as I tap this out on my Macbook. No blogger in their right mind would publish something on a Saturday night like this. Especially when I committed to write some posts for a friend’s blog that I am overdue on. However, this one is for me and needs not be read by anyone else. I’m doing this one to dull the pain I feel as I remember my mom on her birthday. That’s all I can do since she passed away 3 years ago and is no longer here to celebrate it with me. I still remember her face as I tried to be strong for her as she gasped her last breath in the hospital on May 27, 1998. I remember trying to reconcile in my mind that I would see her again in the future when my time here was done. I think about how much pain I felt as my mother passed away before my eyes, and how helpless and alone I felt. There was no joy in my heart that day three years ago. There was no anger either. I was overcome with an emptiness that I cannot describe.  It continued for almost a year before I would get over not having my mother here with me.

In retrospect, there was much to celebrate about her and many, many fond memories. She was one of the strongest people I have ever known, even surviving two bouts of breast cancer and an aortic ulcer that claimed 2/3 of her stomach only to die from a stupid infection that had no cure. However, it was hard to remember the joys I experienced with my mom because of the pain I carried with me. I still can’t shake that deep pain within me when I think of her. The pain is causing me to drip tears on my keyboard as I type.

Growing up as an atheist, my mom always encouraged me to never give in to the notion that there was a god, let alone God. She pushed me hard in life to excel and be the best I could be never showing weakness or a need for others. Her love for me wasn’t shown in hugs or praises. A lot of who my mom was is evident in me. I’m sure a lot of the stories my daughters would tell of me, would sound exactly like stories I would tell of my mom as a parent. However, I always knew she loved me. I always knew she would give everything she had to help me.

At the end of this month I celebrate 7 years with the Lord. It was in October 2004 that I realized God was real and called me into a relationship with him and his son Jesus. I don’t know if he ever did the same for my mom. I wonder sometimes if that is the source of the pain that never goes away when I think of my mom. To not know whether I will be reunited with her again in spirt kills me some days. I’ve done my best to find comfort in the Scriptures that give cause to believe we will be together again. However, I don’t think I’ve fully trusted God to know this with all of my heart. My mom and I had many conversations about my newfound faith and my new life as a pastor. We also had conversations where my mom would tell me that she would be outside talking to the stars and the moon and speaking things into being. She never affirmed a belief in God or asked me the questions that led me to believe she was seeking him. At the moment my mom passed away, I really have no idea what she believed or whether God was there to accept her into his arms or not. I guess I should be angry at God for having me at this crossroads. Maybe I should question a faith that would allow me to consider that I may go to heaven, yet my beautiful, strong, giving, caring and loving mother may not have. Yet, I just can’t do that. Instead, I do my best to find solace in what I’ve come to believe and look forward to a day where there will be no more pain or sadness. In that day, I pray that my mother will be there waiting for me. That I will see her and my dad standing there ready to pick up where we left off. I don’t know what to expect, and for this my heart aches.

Mommy, I love you. I hope that I was able to show you just how much before I lost you. You’d be so proud of your granddaughters Megan and Samantha. They are doing so well and we share stories of our times with you often. We miss you and hope that you are experiencing absolute peace and joy and that we will be with you soon enough, next time to never have to be apart ever again. Charlotte sends her love as well. Happy Birthday Mommy. Love, Dave

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Christianity / church / church planting / church relevance / Dave (personal) / God — No comments
03
Oct 11

On doing good and the church

I read a new study released by The Barna Group on Six Reasons Young Christians Leave The Church. Again, it’s another statistic that saddens me. I am beyond being classified as young right now, but I totally relate to what this study found:

  1. Churches seem overprotective.
  2. Teens’ and twentysomethings’ experience of Christianity is shallow.
  3. Churches come across as antagonistic to science.
  4. Young Christians’ church experiences related to sexuality are often simplistic, judgmental.
  5. They wrestle with the exclusive nature of Christianity.
  6. The church feels unfriendly to those who doubt.

I can already hear a lot of so called “mature Christians” looking at the study and condemning younger Christians as being shallow. Heck, it even states that in reason #2! However, it’s not just young Christians that feel this way. How many times have we spoken to someone about attending a church service only to hear the response, “Church just isn’t relevant to me. I have a personal relationship with God and I don’t need to go to a place where all they want to do is take my money and ask me for my time.” I hear stories like this about the church far too often. It’s particularly saddening to me though when it applies to the younger generation. Mainly because the younger generation may find the church irrelevant because they aren’t hearing answers to their questions as shown in Scripture or they just find it boring. I think the two go hand-in-hand.

The contemporary church moves towards seeking to connect with people through modern, guitar-driven music and dynamic preaching. In the end, I feel it’s better-suited to drawing in Boomers rather than Millenials. If the church fails to connect with the younger generation, how does that play out for our future?

The reason this is on my mind and weighing heavy in my heart is that I have been sensing a call to action lately. A lot of passions lie outside of what typically is viewed as taking place within the church and after being engaged in so many conversations about how many people feel they are close to God, yet distance themselves completely from the church makes me wonder if doing good outside the church may be my future.

As I look at my life, I had an experience with God that had nothing to with sitting in a church service and feeling convicted or being at a low point in my life where I was seeking strength and hope. However, I truly believe that God still wants to move through his people and is using the local church to affect transformation in our cities. It’s time that the church woke up to the change in the next generations and take what is good and shed what is not so good. Catering to the whims of Gen Y Christians isn’t the answer though. If you look deeply at what the Barna study states and what I hear from people on the street every day is that they would find church relevant if they truly experienced an encounter with God as they gather together. If they could serve in ways that made a difference, without judgement and chose to answer questions rather than force what is deemed as truth on a disconnected audience, the local church could experience revival. The awesome thing about this would be that it isn’t just going to be relevant to young people. It could be a multi-generational movement of amazing proportions with God in the midst and evidenced through the church’s story.

Obviously, there is a place for ministries of all shapes and sizes and there is definitely a need for people/orgs that will focus on specific areas of need to do good. In the end, the most glaring question to me is this: If the church really did what it seems like it was called to do, would the need for so many organizations exist? If we weren’t bombarded with so many calls for compassion on tv/radio/print media/social media to commit our time and resources to a cause every few seconds each and every day, would we respond differently? Would the world be a different place? Could it be a better place?

My call to action is not a calling or a vision that mandates me to something… yet. I am feeling something is about to change, and this time I don’t think I’ll have the energy to fight against it. This time, I don’t think I’ll feel like I’m in it alone.

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church / culture / diversity / multi-cultural church — 2 comments
21
Sep 11

In the church, lack of diversity can be good

The title of this post needs some immediate clarification. It’s strictly in the context of segregated churches that stand on their own for a particular reason, such as ethnic churches (Russian, Chinese, Spanish) or fringe churches (Biker, Hip-Hop, Urban).

I wrote two previous posts here and here that had to do with the apathy of being a diverse local church and why I feel it is important to embrace and celebrate cultural diversity more so than ethnic or socio-econimic diversity.

Having served in pastoral ministry in an ethnic church, I find it very awkward to not be part of the group. Many people will immediately think that me being Asian means I must be comfortable around others Asians. However, I was a Japanese American in an almost exclusively Korean American church and it was not very comfortable for me. I had to learn an entirely new culture and how I could transcend that at times for the sake of communicating effectively. To come in from the street and connect during a Sunday gathering would be great. On the surface the only difference would be that the congregation was Korean in appearance, yet not much would seem different. However, if you kept coming back every week, you’d begin to notice the context of the sermon illustrations were very Korean, some of the words in a sermon were Korean because there really wasn’t a good English equivalent, and the people seemed to have an unspoken communication that outsiders wouldn’t quite get. Many days were spent with me feeling like such an outsider. Many days I felt like those I was serving in the church didn’t appreciate me being different.

As uncomfortable as much of my time in ministry with my Korean American brothers and sisters was, I can’t tell you how much I learned from them. How I could have been (and probably was at times) judgmental of them, before learning of certain things that are taught and seemingly inherent in their nature and personalities. A small thing that ended up being a big thing was the use of titles. Even as a youth pastor intern, I had to be referred to as pastor by the teens in my group. I hate titles and don’t like the formality of being referred to as “Pastor Dave.” However, if the teens just called me Dave it was a sign of disrespect. I was okay with it, but their parents were not. On top of that, I was not really an official pastor in the church since I was not ordained at the time. So, I was referred to differently by adults in the church. I was the jundosa and the senior pastor was the moksanim. It had everything to do with respect and hierarchy. A tough pill for me to swallow at first, but once I grew to understand the culture more, I knew it had to be that way.

In the same way, there is culture that surrounds a church of bikers. As much as we in the suburban local church like to say that we welcome everybody and encourage anyone to “come as they are,” I can assure you that in most white, upper-middle class suburban churches, if a few bikers came in on a Sunday it would freak people out. If they chose to come back several Sundays in a row, it would cause some people to leave for another church. Being surrounded in a church with people that understand the biker culture may be much more positive for them than being around a bunch of accountants and soccer moms sharing stories.

Not just cultural differences that cause a lack of diversity to be a positive thing in a church, but language itself is a barrier. If people immigrate from Spain and only speak Spanish, having a church where they can worship in Spanish would be a good thing, whereas English-only may make it impossible for them to gather in the name of the Lord. Having a church where people of Vietnamese, Russian, or Mexican descent has a place in the community. They serve a particular need that an English-only church cannot. Language, more than culture, can determine diversity sometimes--even if that language is from being a biker or Hip-Hop.

At some point I have to believe that there will be blending of cultures in America. As we make the shift very soon to caucasians being the minority in the US, things are going to change--like it or not. My hope is that rather than continue segregating churches that we will someday be able to celebrate the diversity of cultures in America and embrace them and learn from them. What makes me who I am is a conflict of being a Japanese American with certain traits inherently Japanese, yet feeling fully American. I hope you’ll want to learn more about me as a person so you can understand me and others like me better. I want to learn more about you so that I can relate and celebrate those things that are unique to you and your culture that I may not know or experience had I not come to know you. That makes the world a better place and converges our cultures into something far more beautiful than if we just kept it to ourselves. Don’t just show me your skin color, but take me on a journey with you and let me hear your story and get to know you. We’ll both be better people as a result of our time together.

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20
Sep 11

In the church, diversity is mostly a misnomer

[This is a continuation of a previous post titled "In the church, ethnic diversity is meaningless," which you can read here.]

Continuing with my perspective on church diversity, let me start off with the three positions the local church takes on diversity (or lack of):

  1. The church should be racially diverse because heaven is diverse.
  2. The church should be relevant to one’s own culture where people can explore the context of their culture relative to the context of Jesus’ culture.
  3. We want to be a church to all people, where everyone feels welcome.

These days it’s hard to escape diversity. We find people of different races and economic levels in the: workplace, school yard, and suburban neighborhood. Yet, in the local church, diversity is tough to come by. Should our local church reflect of the demographics of our neighboring community? I think it should. That goes along with points 1 & 3 above. So, for the purposes of this post, I am going to save point 2 for a third post and focus on points 1 & 3.

We are led to believe, as Christians, that heaven is a place where we will find people from all nations. As we walk out our driveways and look down the street we will probably see people of various ethnicities and varying income levels. So, if we are called to see heaven here on earth the local church should be diverse in its makeup. If we are to be a diverse church in our community, then we have to strive to make all people welcome. Makes sense, right?

I argue that diversity, for the sake of being a colorful congregation is just a facade. It’s something put in place to make congregants feel like they are being cosmopolitan and for ministry leaders to put a feather in their cap. I won’t say that it is all done in the name of vanity, but if you really break down the effect of diversity on the church, what do we accomplish by encouraging it? If everyone in your Sunday church service closed their eyes, would the effect of diversity really have any meaning?

You see, I am not a fan of diversity. What I am is an advocate for infusing culture into the local church. I believe that when we are in a church gathering and we were to close our eyes, that we could feel culture--and its influence on our lives--regardless of the skin color or job title of those around us. To me, beauty is not skin deep. In fact, I contend that our true beauty can only be realized when we get to know what lies under ones skin.

Not only is understanding other people’s culture relevant when it comes to ministering to them, but I say that it is more important for us to take the opportunity to learn their culture for the sake of making us better people. Offering different styles of music or having colorful faces in leadership in the church has no bearing on who the church it is. It may influence some to come so they don’t feel like standouts, but it doesn’t have much impact on us as a gospel community.

If we use the epistles as a reference, we can easily see that each church Paul wrote letters to was praised or admonished differently. They each battled different idols and ideals and were written to differently as a result. We don’t just align ourselves with one of the churches in the New Testament and then say that we will only learn what Paul taught from that particular Epistle. We take each Epistle into account and learn the context of each church and therefore understand why Paul wrote to each individually. We should do the same thing when it comes people of other cultures. Only when we get to know people deeper than what we see on the surface, can we truly be connected and stand alongside them. Only when I see you reach out to me to learn about my culture, will I truly believe that you care about me, rather than desire to see my Japanese face added to the mix of your congregation to confirm that you have your good deed. It is culture, not diversity, that will cause us to grow and become more beautiful as people.

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church / church relevance / culture / diversity / multi-cultural / multi-cultural church — 4 comments
15
Sep 11

In the church, ethnic diversity is meaningless

I’ve made many, many attempts to engage people in a continuing dialog about racial diversity and cultural diversity within the local church. There seems to be three camps within church circles these days:

  1. The church should be racially diverse because heaven is diverse.
  2. The church should be relevant to one’s own culture where people can explore the context of their culture relative to the context of Jesus’ culture.
  3. We want to be a church to all people, where everyone feels welcome.

The problem with scenario number 1 is that diversity for the sake of coloring a room to give it the appearance of heaven, isn’t really heaven. Think about it. When you walk into a church gathering and see a lot of races represented, is it truly any different than if you walk into a room with only people that look like you? Is the music any different? Is the perspective of the message any different? What do you take away from a room filled with people of different races vs a room filled with only your own? Maybe pride that you’ve done a good thing?  Aside from that, you have gained--nor learned--nothing.

Scenario number 2 is most often used in the context of an ethnic church such as: Spanish, Chinese, Russian, etc. However, it does apply to the White American church as well. Growing up in Mexico, China, or Russia comes with a different set of cultures than growing up in America. Certain practices/customs/viewpoints/taboos are going to be different than here in the United States. As people migrate to our nation, should we force our culture on them from day one? Do we make them feel unwelcome in the land known as the melting pot of people? Not only do these issues conflict with culture, but they also conflict with faith. One’s faith as practiced in Korea is probably not going to look like ones faith as practiced in Tennessee. Gathering in this manner can lead to exclusion, which leads to inclusion. That’s he problem with this scenario.

Number 3 is like the Disneyland of churches. Most conversations I’ve had with pastors and church planters describes their ideal view of this scenario. A church of diversity, both in race and social/economic class. A church where the alcoholic can worship next to the millionaire and everyone can experience love and grace. I know churches like this do exist in some communities, but what can one learn from such an experience? Just because you enter a room with people that do not look like you, that can afford more or less than you, that speak different languages than you, what difference does it really make?

We’ll never escape any of these three scenarios. Each has some merit and will have those people drawn to gather within those contexts. As I continue this topic in my next blog post, I will argue that what we want to gain from each of these can only truly be found when we get past race and learn to embrace culture. It’s what the first century church did, and I believe it’s what the twenty-first century church must do.

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