01/11/16

Asian Immigrants and Black Lives Matter

Last week I had the pleasure of leading worship for Urbana- InterVarsity’s triennial missions conference. It was a fantastic experience. One of the highlights was a session where we led gospel worship and heard from local leader and activist Michelle Higgins. You can read a bunch of other posts about the ripples of that night. But at one point in the night, I asked people to respond to Michelle’s talk by being more open to listening to what people are saying through Black Lives Matter.

A few days later I was texting with my friend Christine, who is Chinese American. Here is the exchange.

IMG_4539  IMG_4540  IMG_4541  IMG_4542

 

This texting exchange felt significant, it put something to words that I had felt below the surface. In my last post I talked some about why Asian Americans are uncomfortable with disruption and protest. For those of us who had parents that came over after The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965,  there is a shared experience. Many of our parents generation experienced great suffering in their homelands. My mother grew up on the tail end of the Korean war and ever so often I get small glimpses into the poverty and the pain. She’ll say things like

  • Your uncle doesn’t eat bean sprouts, because that’s all we ate when we were poor.
  • I had a teacher who paid for me to go to school. But then he could not help me anymore and I had to drop out of middle school and work in a factory.
  • I went to my brother to ask for a blanket, during the winter. Because winter is very cold in Korea. But he said he could not help me. And it hurt him so much.
  • When I came to this country people yelled at me to go back to Vietnam.

These moments are dropped in passing in the midst of other conversations. Sometimes with tears. But it seems like the pain is never really processed. And because so many others have a similar pain, it is dismissed.

And then the next generation has its own dance with stories of pain. I remember about 12 years ago, InterVarsity Los Angeles was focusing on issues of racial reconciliation. And there were some painful moments. But my friend Yii-Shyun and I had a hilarious and bizarre conversation comparing our suffering to that of our parents and grandparents. Statements like- “Grandma I know it was hard when you had to hide in a cave during the winter during the Cultural Revolution but.. I’ve suffered too… sometimes my staff partner doesn’t understand my culture.”

“Oh mom- I know it was hard when you barely had food and had to eat grass pounded with old rice and had no blanket for winter- but sometimes my organization doesn’t understand my biracial identity.”

Through humor and tears we were acknowledging that we carry the last generations pain with us- and it is not resolved. And it dwarfs our suffering. But we feel dissonance in our own life experience as well.Working on those organizational dynamics are important, but I want to focus on the unresolved suffering in our history.

There is a cultural value for absorbing and swallowing pain.

There is shame in revealing suffering or poverty.

There are very few acceptable cultural ways to ask about these past experiences. And even fewer ways to show compassion. ( Aziz Anzari actually does a pretty sweet job of tackling some of this in his show Master of None- episode 2)

Many first generation immigrants have painful stories locked inside. But some of the limits of our own culture lock those stories away and the pain is never healed. I truly believe that there is healing in telling your story and being heard with compassion, empathy, and kindness.

It’s not just stories from the motherland that are locked away. Many have misunderstood how painful the Japanese internment camps were to our Japanese American brothers and sisters, because so little of that pain was put to words.

But it was painful. It was humiliating and awful.

So we have very strong cultural factors that lock stories of pain inside. And the broader culture has interpreted this as meaning that we don’t feel pain and suffering as deeply as other people. I would suggest that part of why Asian Americans have a hard time hearing and showing compassion towards the story of black people in the US- is because they have shown very little compassion to their own stories. We have unaddressed pain and it makes it difficult to engage with another community’s pain.

This is where we need cross cultural community. Because an all Asian community will reinforce this cultural approach to narrative and pain. But sometimes another context, an outside voice, a different way can be introduced by an outsider.

As Asian Americans we need to find a way to present our pain and our stories to Jesus and to each other. I think our parents need room to share, lament, cry ( that really awkward painful cry of older Asian folks) and then actually process and receive healing.

And the grace we have received could become be the grace we extend.

Perhaps as we watch the black community seek compassion, dignity, and justice for its community. We can begin to do that for ourselves as well. And we can stand together with them. And hopefully they will stand with us. Since this is what is means to be Christian community.

11/4/15

We Need More Disruption

Here’s a special glimpse into my marriage. In the first few years we were married, whenever I was upset about something- we ended up having two fights- the thing I was originally mad about, and my husband’s dislike of my tone of voice when I brought it up. After having some version of the same fight over and over again- I agreed, I would bring things up “nicely.” I would use a gentle tone of voice to bring up what was bothering me. So we tried this method for a while.

I would bring it up nicely.

Nothing.

Bring it up again.

Nothing.

So then I would be pissed- and I would bring it up again- in my angry voice.

And he would say, “Hey, you said you wouldn’t use that tone of voice.”

“You don’t listen when I use my nice voice.” And I would list out the times I had brought it up “nicely” and his lack of response. “So you can’t tone patrol me if you don’t respond to my nice voice. It’s actually you- that requires this tone of voice.”

This reminds me of how White and Asian Americans respond to the activists in the Black Lives Matter movement.

141213170300-08-protest-1213-ny-horizontal-large-galleryI hear white and Asian American Christians bothered by the disruption- stopping a freeway, interrupting a Bernie Sander rally, marching the streets.  The critique is, they seem angry. They are disruptive. It is uncomfortable. It is annoying. And my answer is- yes. Yes they are. Yes it is. But you wouldn’t listen when they used their “nice” voice, so this is what it takes. Interruption is what is takes to get dominant culture to even consider change.

White America, and frankly that portion of Asian American that is flowing with the dominant culture’s worldviews, won’t listen to “nice tone.” I spent the last few days in St. Louis filming activist, theologian, preacher, and worship leader Michelle Higgins. She talked about the fact that most activist consider interruption and disruption a last resort. They have tried phone calls, letters, meeting with local leaders, and community organizing. But when that doesn’t work, when it doesn’t get people’s attention, you have to interrupt. They used “nice” methods to seek change. Too bad, nobody would listen.

1211084 I know I don’t like being interrupted. I understand our general dislike of interruption. Even in conversation it’s annoying. But that doesn’t make it wrong. White America hates all forms of disruption and interruption to its normal life.

Take the civil rights movement. Civil rights activists peacefully, non-violently, and calmly interrupted lunch
by sitting at a counter. They were greeted with hateful slurs, had food poured on them, and were surrounded by angry mobs of white people. They were interrupting the most mundane thing- lunch at a diner. And in the most peaceful way possible- sitting in silence. And white people lost their damn minds about it.

Lets remember- Black Lives Matter is a message to non-black people. Black people know it. They are trying to interrupt the normal flow of life to get everyone else’s attention and say- our lives, our bodies are treated with violence. Will you wake up and care?

And the repeated answer is- no.

No we will not.

For systemic racial change to happen- cities, neighborhoods, schools, and organizations need to be interrupted.

They need something to stop the normal flow of life. Because normal life is racist.

I understand disruption and interruption are never comfortable. So is police brutality. And Black children being shot. And Black children being handcuffed. And Black people being treated with violence.

Jesus actually used disruption all the time. Look at his life and ministry.

He opens Luke with a teaching on being good news to the poor and it is well received. But when he gets particular and calls out the Jewish people on their own ethnocentrism and pride- they want to throw him off a cliff. He is interrupting their worldview and they don’t like it.

Jesus drives out the merchants - John 2:13-16

When Jesus interrupts dinner conversation by telling people they are being proud. It’s more than awkward. It interrupts what could have been some pleasant dinner talk.

When he overthrows the tables in the temple because they have blocked the court of the Gentiles, lots of business people would have been angry. It interrupted business as usual.

Jesus interrupted and disrupted all the time to get people’s attention and tell them to change. But we in the U.S. have castrated Jesus, and made him into Precious Moments Jesus, and we can’t believe that he was as passionate and disconcerting as he was.

Being interrupted is jarring and it requires humility. It required wanting to change and wanting to learn. It requires being confused and not knowing what to do, because you have to stop your normal habits.  It required not being derailed by criticism or insecurity.

Asian Americans and Interruption

I’ve thought for a long time that Asian Americans move away from the Black Lives Matter movement because interruption is extra uncomfortable for us. A lot of Asian American communication is about nonverbals. It is about not needing to say something. It is about saying something at a level 3, but the hearer knows it is really a level 8. And in our culture, interruption is incredibly rude- especially to someone older than you or in authority.

And here is the Black community- disrupting and interrupting. Here they are challenging authority. I think that it feels foreign us. I think we see protesters, we see their anger and the emotion, and we interpret it through our communication lens.

They seem too emotional.

Too angry.

Rude.

And they are making public spaces uncomfortable.

But we are missing the truth in the message, because we are uncomfortable with the method. We wouldn’t listen when they used their “nice” voice. So it is us who requires interruption.

 

We Need More Disruption, Not Less

More churches need to be interrupted. Stop doing regular church every Sunday. Engage with the violence and injustice directed towards Black people in our country.

More Christian organizations need to be interrupted. Stop trying to care for people of color, while not having any people of color in leadership.

More Christian ministries need to be interrupted and take a prophetic stance about race and injustice, instead of staying silent because so may donors are white and uncomfortable with Black Lives Matter.

My own organization could use some interruption.

We say we value mulitethnicity, but have we let Black Lives Matter interrupt us? Have we talked about it with our student leaders? Did we incorporate it into our New Student Outreach in any way? Did we incorporate anything about multiethnicity into our Fall Conferences? Did we do more than pray for Black staff that are underfunded?

Or did we go on, business as usual, not being interrupted?

We may not like it. But frankly, I think we need more of it. More disruption. More interruption. Until justice and real change have come.

 

PS- Don’t worry- the hubby and I worked that dynamic out. In case you think we are tragically stuck in that dynamic 8 years later.

10/22/15

Women Of Color in Justice Work- We need this!

Recently I was invited into a very special opportunity, the chance to help plan a gathering for women of color (WOC) in social justice work. I was very excited. I have had serious fan girl status toward Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes since I saw her facilitate a panel at CCDA’s national conference last year. And then I got her book, Too Heavy a Yoke- Black Women and the Burden of Strength and my respect kicked up to the next level. She was heading up this planning committee and I was pumped. The whole planning team is amazing women doing amazing work.

But as I started to think about the gathering, I got stuck. It was hard for me to put into words the need for this gathering. And my job is putting things into words!

I knew I was excited to be with other WOC.

I knew it was needed.

But I couldn’t explain why.

I’m used to talking about issues of race, but rarely the intersection of race and gender. I’m constantly talking about social justice, but rarely my experience as a women leading out in social justice work. I’m used to talking about class issues, racial conflict, and leading groups into conversations around race- but never in a context where my experience as a WOC leading into these things is centered.

Even though I talk about intersectionality all the time, I realize I’m not very fluent in the intersection of race, gender, and social justice work in my own life. Dr. Barnes summed it up perfectly. This is what is on the website regarding the gathering this November 14th and 15th.

 To be a woman of color committed to racial reconciliation and social justice in the Christian church––whether evangelical or mainline––is to be a perpetual outsider. Many of us are culturally and theologically isolated in the spaces where we live, work, and minister. Our existence at the intersection of race and gender invites unique experiences, different from those of our White sisters and our brothers of all races. Sometimes those experiences include struggling to be heard and valued by the very communities and organizations that we serve. When the burden of isolation becomes too much, we are tempted to walk away from CCD ministry and give up on the vision of beloved community.

I do often feel isolated. People label me as liberal, but I think of myself as evangelical and trying to be Biblical.  I’m fighting to be taken seriously as a women leader in the church. But when I am in the pulpit, I have to be careful not to get “too racial”, or share my own racialized experience of the world because it makes white people uncomfortable. When I lead out in social justice contexts, I have many wonderful partnerships with men, but we rarely bring gender into the conversation. And I watch as women, who work in the hood, are undervalued because people want men to step up and lead.

I want to invite you to join me in Memphis Tennessee for a gathering of Women of Color in social justice work. Come for the entire Christian Community Development Conference or come for the 24 hour gathering for Women of Color. You can get all the info you need at www.ccda.org

I think it will be good for our souls and our spirits.

10/11/15

Real Native Americans and Mattress Sales

I can honestly say that for most of my life I have given no thought at all to Columbus Day. Similar to Ortho-Mattress-Columbus-Day-Sale1
President’s Day, Memorial Day, and Labor Day I think of the holiday in terms of mattresses going on sale and hopefully getting a day off of school.

Recently I have embarked on a new season of learning. I have begun a Master’s in Intercultural Studies. The program is in partnership with George Fox seminary- but run by NAIITS– the North American Institute for Indigenous Theological Studies. So the program is taught by all Native American/Indigenous Christian professors, and many of my classmates are Native and Indigenous people.

I am a newbie to this world. I have only taken a couple classes, attended one conference, and just begun to learn about smudging, sweat lodges, and indigenous spirituality and worldview.  So what I offer is purely 101, or maybe even less than 101. I’m offering the pre-req’s before 101.  Here are a few lessons that I have been learning as I have entered into this new community.

Not all Indians are dead.

Kind of an abrupt statement. But I have learned that for someone like me, educated from the perspective of the dominant culture- the narrative is that Native Americans are a part of our history. Something along the lines of “It’s kind of sad what happened- but that was a long time ago. All the Indians died and we don’t need to really worry about them today.” We are taught to think of Native Americans as part of our past, not our present. This is part of how we reconcile ourselves with our colonial, genocidal, and racist history- we think of it as something that was perpetrated a long time ago by other people, not something that we need to be affected by today. Real, living, non-historical Native Americans, are troubling to this comforting worldview. My comforting worldview.

Everyday is talk about Colonialism Day

When I am in predominantly African American contexts or with activist minded POC, we talk about race all the time. We talk about systemic injustice all the time. We talk about what is bothering us about our churches, organizations, cities, and white friends- ALL THE TIME. We process the stress and dissonance of our racialized experience ALL THE TIME. It’s just normal. It’s just talking. But when white, and some Asian American folks, get around this they experience dissonance. It seems extreme, like we are making everything very racial. It has to be a special occasion (usually a crisis) for most white and Asian American people to talk about race.

Well I experienced this dissonance as I entered into my NAIITS context. Talking about colonialism and settler colonial issues is not special occasion talk in my new circle. It is everyday talk. I called something a hoe-down- which is part of my charming and whimsical slang, and got told, causally over lunch, that it was very colonial of me. I had to laugh at myself. When is the last time someone casually callethought-i-was-nnjcwtd me colonial!?!

At the NAIITS conference the Indigenous people introduce themselves by their tribe and geography, and everyone else introduces themselves by name and as a settler. I’m a settler!!! Ha- no free pass cause I’m a WOC. I have to own my identity as a settler on this land. Not just on special occasions, but everyday. It’s just normal talk. It seemed so militant at first. I was no accustomed to having this as a normal lens on life. But it would be weird to say to my Native American classmates and teachers- “Why do you keep referencing this totally normal part of your daily experience and worldview? It’s not something I usually talk about, so lets stop.” That would be ridiculous. Now after a short time, talking about how colonial I am, is as normal as talking about my next hair color.

So here we are at Columbus Day 2015. Most of us know that Columbus did not 11800361_894716260622089_5228560746448242866_nin fact “discover” this land. And we have become aware, to varying degrees, that he was a raping, pillaging, enslaving, violent man. Read this biography of the man for a helpful history of his life and the holiday. But what can be done and who wants to expend any real effort? Well, Native Americans have been expending effort to end Columbus Day as a holiday for a long time- since 1954 in my hometown of Portland.

So my application of my 101 lessons is to proactively support the trend of cities changing Columbus Day to Indigenous People’s Day. I know that many people will write off this change as politically correct and irrelevant. I disagree. It matters. It matters who we want to honor in our history. It matters that we are willing to even think about our history and our present. And it matters that we begin to bear the fruit of repentance in any way we can. So if Indigenous people are lobbying for this change- why wouldn’t we listen to them?

Indig.PeoplesDayI for one will pay attention to October 12th for the first time in my life. And I will celebrate Indigenous people and their presence. I will continue to try and learn from them. I will urge my community of friends to honor actual real Native American leaders and stop using them as costumes, mascots, and festival gear.

Do you want to listen to some North American Indigenous voices to celebrate Indigenous People’s Day? Don’t just turn to history, listen to contemporary voices. Here are a few interesting options.

Unexpectedly, MTV took an episode of its Rebel Music series to feature several next generation Indigenous artist. Here is a write up on the mic about several artists they are featuring. And below is the episode. Absolutely worth the 30 minutes.

Here are some additional resources, mostly Christian Indigenous perspectives.

Rescuing the Gospel from the Cowboys by Richard Twiss

Shalom and the Community of Creation by Randy Woodley

God is Red by Vine Deloris Jr.

Singer Cheryl Bear’s music

Band Broken Walls

Here is a list of cities from www.usuncut.com that have changed Columbus Day to Indigenous people’s day.

  • Albuquerque, New Mexico – The city’s formal declaration”encourages businesses, organizations and public entities to recognize Indigenous Peoples Day, which shall be used to reflect upon the ongoing struggles of Indigenous people on this land, and to celebrate the thriving culture and value that our Indigenous nations add to our City.”
  • Lawrence, KS– Since September, students from Haskell University in Lawrence, Kansas have been taking initiative and pushing for the city to honor their ancestors by declaring October 12th Indigenous Peoples’ day. Just this Wednesday, they won.
  • Portland, OR– Portland’s City Council declared Indigenous Peoples’ day on Tuesday, something tribal leaders have been seeking since 1954.
  • Paul, MN– In August, St. Paul followed Minneapolis by declaring Indigenous Peoples’ Day instead of Columbus Day. Minneapolis passed its own resolution last year.
  • Bexar County, TX– The resolution was passed Tuesday, and local activists intend to press for the same thing in San Antonio.
  • Anadarko, OK– In September, Anadarko declared Indigenous Peoples’ Day. Anadarko Mayor Kyle Eastwood signed the proclamation while surrounded by tribal leaders from the Apache, Choctaw, Delaware, Wichita and others.
  • Olympia, WA– Mayor Pro Tem Nathaniel Jones presented Olympia’s proclamation at a rally in August. Nearly 150 people showed up to support the initiative.
  • Alpena, MI– In September, Mayor Matt Waligora declared Indigenous Peoples’ Day. The city says they desire “to develop a strong and productive relationship with all indigenous peoples, including the Saginaw Chippewa Tribe, based on mutual respect and trust.”

These cities are following in the footsteps of Seattle and Minneapolis. Meanwhile, Oklahoma City    came close to passing it in September and will try to pass it again on October 13th, the day after the holiday.

 

Happy Indigenous People’s Day!

Indig.PeoplesDay

 

 

 

08/12/15

24 Hours 365 Days Later in Ferguson

This post is to let you walk through Sunday August 9th, 2015 with me. It is not a reflection on what I learned about about the BLM movement. That is still coming. But since I had the privilege and opportunity to be in Ferguson on the one year mark of Michael Brown’s death, I wanted to let you experience it with me, since what I saw changed me and it will help you get closer to the people that are leading this movement on the ground.

6:30 AM

It’s already warm, and very humid as I and several friends/co-workers arrive at the Canfield apartments. Pastor Blackmon, a local pastor who has worked closely with the local activists has invited clergy to pray at the Michael Brown Jr.  Memorial. There are stuffed animals in the middle of the streets, but otherwise it is a very ordinary street running between two apartment complexes. But it is also sacred, because the activists in this suburb ignited a national movement. It is a picture that the sacred and the ordinary often look exactly the same. The profound and mundane are intertwined.

As I look around the circle of about 90 people that are gathered. Half are Black clergy. The next IMG_2392largest group is white women clergy, many wearing collars and stoles representing mainline denominations. There is a small group of Jewish clergy. And then a mix of white men, a few local activists, a few people like myself who are visiting. There are queer leaders and activists.

I am painfully aware that I and my friend Amy are the only Asian Americans in the circle. There are no Asian American clergy or pastors here.

I am aware that there are very few evangelicals present.

IMG_2375We spend 20 minutes praying.

When we are done most people linger for a while looking at the memorial, greeting each other.

I hear someone say this in passing “Everyone here is on the margins. On the margins of the margins.” And that rings true. Women clergy are on the margins of the church. Black people are on the margins of our society. Even more, trans and queer black people are further on the margins. And this feels like church. A version of the Kingdom that isn’t full of fear, always drawing lines and pushing people out.

Rather dramatically and fittingly, thunder starts rolling over us, and giant drops of rain drench us as we walk back to the car.

IMG_2388

11am

Half our group is participating in a silent march in Ferguson, with members of Michael Brown Jr.’s family and the family members of other shooting victims from around the country.  You can read Sean’s reflections on the experience here. We arrive at Christ the King church which is pastored by Pastor Traci Blackmon. Out front there are 179 crosses, one for each person who has died in a shooting death in St. Louis in the last year. I heard her preach yesterday at the Black Scholars event, and she was amazing. I was looking forward to hearing her preach again and must confess I was disappointed when I saw another name on the church sign.

The choir began singing and everyone was wearing a shirt that read

Black lives matterIMG_2381

Black love matters

Black votes matter

Black church matters

This encouraged me. Beginning with the week that Trayvon Martin was shot, I do not attend church, or only attend black churches after a shooting. I can not bear to be in a house of worship that does not even address the grief and pain that is happening in our country.

A place that claims to worship Jesus, who was a victim of police brutality, but does not talk about police bruitality today. A place that claims to worship Jesus, who died with a racial slur hanging over his head, but does not talk about the value of black lives. I can not sit in fellowship there. To claim to worship Jesus, but ignore the systemic oppression and violence against His people. It is a sin. I can not sing songs in that place.

So to enter a sanctuary, where every member of the choir is wearing a shirt that affirms Black lives. I am already ushered into the Lords presence.

Then the sermon by Dr. John Dorhauer.  What can I say about a white man who absolutely shocked me by preaching on white privilege in the deepest, most radical, and relevant way I have ever heard. Who exegeted and expounded on the image of the lion laying down with the lamb in ways I had never considered or imagined. He did so without guilt, apology, or centering himself in the narrative. It is the sermon I have longed to hear, and frankly hoped to hear in my own organization, but never have. Brother John, as we started calling him, spoke to my heart, soul, and mind in a profound way.

Here are some quotes.

  • There is only one pathway forward according Isaiah 11, and it is the one chosen by the lamb
  • The lion’s only task- to ask the lamb what it wants and what it requires so that it will willingly choose to lay down with the lion.
  • White privilege must be laid down at the feet of the lamb.
  • The lion must give up its memory. Its nostalgia for its own power.

We end with a chant that I hear again that evening. A rally cry. A woman stands in front of the group and says- repeat after me. She yells-

It is our duty to  fight for our freedom

It is our duty to win

We must love each other and support each other

We have nothing to lose but out chains

And she yells it a second time, at the tope of her voice, with tears coming down her cheeks.

IT IS OUR DUTY TO FIGHT FOR OUR FREEDOM!

IT IS OUR DUTY TO WIN!

WE MUST LOVE AND SUPPORT EACH OTHER!

WE HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE BUT OUR CHAINS!

I am breathless by the time she is done. There is so much passion and commitment in the room. I am humbled. My heart is laid out before these everyday people that are on the streets daily, laboring for a new civil rights movement. And their complete commitment and devotion is inspiring and humbling. I really had no idea, the depth of commitment of the local activists.

7:00pm

We arrive at Greater St. Marks to hear Cornel West. The evening is opened by Rev. Osagyefo Sekou. (photo below) He is one of the clergy that has been leading on the ground in Ferguson.  He begins with a song

I hear my neighbor crying, I can’t breathe….   Sekou Boston keffiyeh

We’re calling out the violence of the racist police

We ain’t gonna stop until our people are free

Its a powerful opening.  He then gives an opening word and  introduces Dr. Cornel West.

Cornel West gets up and it is electric. He is passionate. He opens with,  “I’m not gonna take much time, cause the focus has to be on what’s happening on the streets. I’m not here to talk. I’m here to go to jail. ” He ends by calling the church out of hypocrisy and mediocrity and back to the prophetic.

When he is done I am breathless. It was a very short speech.  I’ve never wanted to chant someone 11873411_701936519933724_668913951796881565_nback on stage to make them keep talking. And he was true to his word. This is Rev. Sekou and Dr. Cornel West about to be arrested the following morning. They were at the St. Louis DOJ calling for expanded police reform.

After Dr. West a panel of amazing activists was sitting on the stage

  •  Rahiel Tesgamariam- follow her on Urban Cusp @urbancusp
  • Rev. Starsky Wilson  from St. Johns Church
  • Bree Newson- who removed the confederate flag from the South Carolina State house @breenewsome
  • Michael McBride- a Bay Area pastor that has been leading out on the west coast @pastormycmac
  • Rev. Leah
  • Pastor Blackmon- local clergy that is leading on the ground @pastortraci

Here they are after the event.

11822550_943656832360402_534587742321122885_n

Please look up these leaders and learn about them and follow them on twitter. They are critical voices to this movement and the ones you should be learning from. If you say you care about this movement, then you must take initiative to self educate. You can watch the entire event here.

More than what they said- which was insightful. There was something powerful about seeing this group of Black leaders, women and men, queer and straight, clergy and artists- leading and speaking unapoligetically as Black people. It made me realize that in the majority of contexts I am in, Black voices and leadership are not centered. But more than that, Black people are not thriving, they are not in a healthy environment.

Even in my own organization, which claims to hold a value for multi-ethnicity, Black leader must always cater to the feelings of the dominant culture. Their voices and perspectives are never centered. Even when black staff gather on their own, it is to respond to something the organization has or hasn’t done, or to figure out how to survive an organization that is not about their flourishing.  I have an entire post dedicated to this topic coming, so I won’t expound on this. But the contrast was marked.

The room was an electrifying contrast to almost any other space I have been in. It was unapologetic and it was church in the truest sense. Unafraid. Not trying to push people out. Fighting for justice.

I and my friends turned to each other when it was over. “I’m ruined for normal life.” “How am I going to go back?” We just kept repeating these questions to each other.

We left to grab dinner, but the restaurant we stopped in on had already closed its kitchen. Word that things were getting rowdy on the streets had spread, and they were getting ready to close. Unfortunately, things took a turn and shots were fired between two groups of people who appear unconnected to the protests. There was an officer involved shooting of an armed man later in the evening.

We ended up at the Waffle House across the streets from the hotel, emotionally hung over from all we had seen and experienced in one short day. Beyond words. Feeling changed forever.

If you want to hear more voices, check out the hashtags #FaithInFerguson and #FergusonTaughtMe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

08/8/15

Ferguson- a primer

As I have told people that I’m going to Ferguson for the one year anniversary of Michael Brown’s death it has raised a lot of questions.

Wait- which shooting happened there? Weren’t cops shot there? Didn’t Michael Brown attack the officer? So in light of that, I am providing a short recap ( full of my own editorializing) and framework to help us enter into reflection and engagement at the one year mark of the Ferguson uprising.

On July 17, 2014 Eric Garner was approached by police for selling loose cigarettes on a corner in New York. Though chronologically this happened before Michael Brown was shot, thgarnerxx-4-webe story did not gain momentum until after the shooting in Ferguson.

For context, New York is known for its stupid and racist policy of stop and frisk.

Stop and frisk is an incredibly wide spread practice, used disproportionately on Black and Latino men, where people are stopped and searched and harassed by the police for no reason. This has never happened to me- as a member of the least likely to be harassed by the police demographic in the US- mixed white and Asian and a woman. But I believe the many Black and Latino men that have spoken up about this, I have watched videos of the practice, and it is harassment and dehumanizing and wrong. If it was done to rich white people in New York- the practice would have ended a long time ago. White people would never tolerate being handled by the police in this way.

I provide that information because it appears to me, in the descriptions of Eric Garner’s interaction NBA-players-wearing-I-cant-breathe-shirtswith the police, that he is frustrated that police are harassing him again. In the course of questioning him, they decide to arrest him, and when he swats away the officers hand as he is putting on the handcuffs, the officer pulls him back and throws him to the ground using an illegal chokehold. Eric Garner repeated numerous times that he could not breathe. (This incident is why protesters use the phrase I Can’t Breathe.) The medical examiner found the chokehold, chest compressions, and poor health as the cause of death and it was ruled a homicide. Many felt that because the interaction was caught on videotape that the officers would be held accountable, however on December 3, 2014 a grand jury decided not to indict the officers.

Sidebar #1

Let’s all just stop and ponder if anyone believes that you should die for selling cigarettes on the corner.

Sidebar #2

Our culture has a presumed guilt when it sees Black people and presumed innocence when it sees patrick-killer-smilewhite people. Let’s do a little exercise.

Imagine this man was standing on the corner, selling loose cigarettes to some people. And when the police tried to handcuff him, he is angry and indignant and can’t believe he is being arrested and swats the officers hand away. Do you imagine this man ending up dead? Would he “deserve” it? What he had made a fortune betting on people losing their homes in the economic downturn? I use this example, because as much as people say they are colorblind, they assume, solely based on race that this man is an innocent and good individual. Even if there is evidence to the contrary.

Back to the timeline.

Several weeks later on August 9th Michael Brown was shot. There is video footage of him leaving a convenience store after stealing some cigarillos (which from what I can gather are mini cigars) He shoves a clerk out of the way and leaves with his friend. Now lets all stop and ponder for a moment if we really think that someone should die for that. Was it a smart move? No. Legal? No. Should you end up dead for it? No. He was physical, but he did not use a gun, nor did he beat anyone up. He stole some stuff from a mini-mart. Not a great decision, but not a violent crime.

Sidebar #3

michael-brownHe was also teenage kid trying to figure out what he was going to do after high school. He was hanging with a friend. He was not a monster, a demon, not the embodiment of evil. He was not invaluable as a human because he stole stuff from that mini mart. He was made in the image of God. And committed far less violent of a crime than King David and the Apostle Paul. White people have been very quick to dismiss the value of his life and I don’t see a Biblical basis for that.

Here’s a partial summary from wikipedia.

The entire interaction eventually resulted in Officer Wilson firing at him several times, all striking him in the front, with the possible exception of the two bullets fired into Brown’s right arm. In the entire altercation, Wilson fired a total of twelve bullets; the last was probably the fatal shot. Brown was unarmed. Brown was moving toward Wilson when the final shots were fired. Witness reports differed as to what Brown was doing with his hands when he was shot, but no credible witness said that he had his hands up in surrender.

 However, early reports said that Michael Brown was facing the officer with his hands up in a sign of surrender. Activists across the country then adopted the image of standing with hands raised as a symbol of unarmed Black people being shot by police.

congress_handsupdontshoothoward-hands-up

 

As shooting after shooting has continued over the year, as body after body has piled up, it has become painfully clear that black people and white people see the world completely differently. I really believed that white people would become more engaged and more concerned as the bodies piled up. But for the most part, they have not.

Here is my summary of how black and white people interpret these moments differently.

White people

Unless the person being attacked has no criminal record, an intact family, and is in the middle of singing Open the Eyes of my Heart- they are probably a thug. Which is a euphemism for bad Black person that probably had it coming. So we don’t need to be troubled or sad, cause that person was a bad person and hence their life was not that valuable. And somehow all black people can end up in this category. Where their lives aren’t valued. Also it doesn’t count as racism unless the officer is wearing a klan hood and yelling racial slurs. Because white people are always innocent unless proven guilty. And video, work history, and past acts of violence apparently don’t count as proof. Proof is demanded, and yet can never established.

There is a tiny circle and things are only racist if they fit inside this tiny circle of very specific circumstance.

Little Racism

 

 

Black people

Who, let’s just remember, were right when they spoke up about slavery being wrong.

Were right when they spoke up about Jim Crow being wrong.

Have always been a prophetic voice to white people about their own blindness and racism. And they have never been greeted with agreement until 50 years after the fact. White folks love to claim MLK now, but back in his day, white folks thought he was moving things along too soon, and too fast, and too radically.

Black folks see racism as a big circle. It is a web that permeates all of our society where white people are constantly given the benefit of the doubt (#crimingwhilewhite) and Black people are treated with suspicion and fear and often violence. They are speaking up about a giant circle- law enforcement, the criminal justice system, the war on drugs. ( If you haven’t read The New Jim Crowe- just do yourself a favor and read it so you won’t have to tell you kids 20 years from now you decided to stay ignorant during a significant time of change in our society.)

So the Black community saw the shooting of Michael Brown as inside the large circle.

 

Big Racism

I would sum up this year as white folks repeatedly saying – nope that does not fit in the tiny circle. And black folks saying- it’s in the circle. And the circle is big. And your ignorant self is in the circle too cause you’re so blind.

And all year long, as each shooting has happened, this conversation has been repeated.

Then it happened, in an awful moment. The most explicitly perfect example of the little circle happened. A group of Christians- pastors, community leaders, and the type of people who show up to mid week Bible study welcomed a weird white kid into their Bible study and prayer meeting. And when it was done he murdered them because he is a white supremisict and he wanted to start a race war.

So I thought- well at least White folks will have to put this one in the little circle. It’s racism.

Yup. That one was racism.

That’s troubling.

That wasn’t right.

But instead everyone focused on the forgiveness of the family members towards the shooter. Which is the family’s right to do. But actually distracted white people from the real issue. The Charleston shooting  not only should have been a perfect example of little circle racism, it pointed to big circle racism.  I mean, “good black people” had been murdered while racial slurs were being yelled. Maybe white people would have to actually listen when Black people said racism was still a thing.

But one of the deepest affects of white supremacy, is that you never let anyone tell you the truth about yourself. You never have to learn from a Black person that isn’t Oprah.

Syncretism all day long

The weakness of white reform theology is that it has been over informed by the Western secular value of individualism. It is completely syncretistic. This syncretism blinds white Christians to corporate sin. I understand white people not wanting to feel culpable for systemic racism. But, white Christians should be able to open their heart to this idea. Being a sinner is one of the foundational tenants of our religion. So when someone suggests you might be sinning, the answer should be “Sounds about right. Because I am in fact, according to my religious world view, a jacked up sinner.”

In addition the fact that the Bible is addressed to a GROUP of people almost ALL the time should help us. Entire countries, entire tribes, entire groups of people are called to account by God. And no, not every individual in that group was committing the sin, but Scripture is very corporate in its worldview. American Christians are not.  Syncretism at its finest.

After the shooting in Ferguson, activists rose up and organized and protested the injustice of the big circle of racism. And white people sent in the army to shut them up. And the activists didn’t’ give up, and they didn’t shut up, and they catalyzed a movement that is known as Black Lives Matter. And it is courageous, grassroots, and we should pay attention. I spent the last two days listening to Black academics and pastors and repeatedly called for a new theology and new view of church, that is formed by what is happening on the streets of Ferguson.

I am in Ferguson because I want to testify that Jesus was a revolutionary that would not have lived quietly in an ethnically segregated suburb attending an ethnically segregated church, turning a blind eye to the violence being done to black people across our country. I’m here because Black Lives Matter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

08/3/15

The Parable of the Merciful Muslims

This is a guest post by my friend and co-worker Andrea Emerson. She shared it as a devotional reflectional to open a training I was leading a couple weeks ago for InterVarsity staff. InterVarsity is a Christian ministry to college students. We raise financial support to do our work, which we call ministry partnership development. These terms will be helpful in understanding her interpretation of the parable.  I deeply appreciated her contemporary take on the story of the Good Samaritan. Have a read and let us know your thoughts.

The Parable of the Merciful Muslims

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

He said to him, “What is written in the law?”

He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”

And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”

But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

Jesus replied:

America has always been a deadly and dangerous place for our Black brothers and sisters. Publicized police killings of unarmed Black men and women in the past year have made this more obvious to those of us who have not lived their reality.

Last month after the slaughter of nine precious Black saints in Charleston the danger took a new, but familiar shape: Black churches began to burn.

In the ten days after the massacre, first one, then two…no three…four, five, six….seven, eight.

Eight Black churches burned –  a deeply painful reminder that to be a Black American is to find no mercy. Both the Charleston massacre and the subsequent church burnings cry out to us that not even the buildings of the Black church, a pillar and sanctuary of the community since slavery, are safe.

Our country is a deadly and dangerous place for our Black brothers and sisters.

In the wake of these church burnings most prominent White and Asian-American pastors behaved as if they did not know it had happened. Therefore, it did not occur to them to include the stories of these churches, let alone an entire year of #blacklivesmatter stories, in their sermons or invite their congregations to give toward rebuilding efforts. They just kept going with their church’s business as usual, unaware of this gaping wound in the capital “C” church in America.

Then there were the InterVarsity staff workers diligently spending their summers working on ministry partnership development. They were aware of what was happening, so they posted Facebook statuses filled with the language of mourning and outrage. “Black churches are burning and Christians who aren’t Black don’t know or care! We can change that!” they thought as they hit ‘share’. But they never asked their ministry partners and supporting churches to make generous gifts toward the rebuilding efforts of the burned Black churches, let alone make a gift of their own. They were too busy finding partners for themselves.

But then another story began to circulate: Muslim charities were collecting money to rebuild burned Black churches. They decided to use Ramadan, a holy month in Islam marked by self sacrifice and giving to launch their special campaign. Their “Respond with Love” campaign website states:

“ALL houses of worship are sanctuaries, a place where all should feel safe, a place we can seek refuge when the world is too much to bear. We want for others what we want for ourselves: the right to worship without intimidation, the right to safety, and the right to property.” *

But maybe not every church burned because of a hate crime, some pointed out. Do they deserve all of this money. All of this attention?

The Muslims were undeterred. The director for one of the charities spearheading the campaign said, “It doesn’t matter to us how or why these churches burned down, we want to help our Black sisters and brothers get back into their houses of worship as soon as they can. Ramadan is a time of giving and what better cause to give to than one that rebuilds houses of worship where God’s name is constantly called, remembered and loved.” *

Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the Black Christians and Black Churches?

Jesus says to us, “Go and do likewise.”

I (Andrea) wanted to let myself off the hook. I was one of those irate InterVarsity staff who posted a link to an initial article about the Muslim charities. I wrote that I was almost certain the church where I’m a member would not take up an offering for this cause and how I felt a healthy sense of shame about it.

I was content to leave it at that.

But then a friend was curious if I planned to ask my church to take an offering. When I read his words I felt conviction: I am a supported missionary of my congregation, with the ear of the outreach pastor, and rather than use my position of power and privilege to bring awareness of injustice in the Church, I was content to let my position serve myself. I hadn’t thought to speak up. That is the real shame!

My friend invited me to choose the Jesus way and love with my actions. My outreach pastor is in Zambia right now, there will be an email in his inbox with an invitation to grab a cup of coffee and talk about what our church can do.


*quoted from:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/07/07/muslims-rebuild-black-churches_n_7747794.html

08/2/15

Why It Has Been Hard to Write

I have wanted to write. I have wanted to share reflections and in any way possible to support the Black Lives Matter movement. But I haven’t been able to write because it has been too exhausting and too sad. The moment I start to wrap my heart and mind around one incident- for example the violent and dehumanizing way a group of kids were treated at a pool party. Then another unarmed black man is shot by the police. I can barely wrap my mind around the explicitly white supremacist shooting of a group of Black brothers and sisters who were praying and studying the Bible together in their church, before a conversation about the Confederate flag derails the grief. I think the conversation about the flag is important, but it felt distracting from so many other things about that shooting. The way white people seemed unable to acknowledge that he was a white supremacist and that he was motivated by racist hatred. I was troubled by the way that white and Asian American Christians were so excited to talk about the forgiveness extended to the shooter, but not the racism that led to it.

I have felt worn out by grief and sitting with friends in their grief. Which to be clear, I consider an honor and a part of friendship. As they have stood with me in my loneliness in moving and my fears as I’ve stepped into a new leadership role. But grief is exhausting. And each time I, or my friends seem to just catch a breath, something awful happens.

I was sitting in my living room with a couple friends. And we had to stop and acknowledge that this year has been like no other. A never ending cycle of grief and anger and pain. As we are coming up on the one year mark of the shooting of Michael Brown, I’m committing to try and rally to write again.

Here’s why.

I have access to a group of people that may not engage with the Black community. But they will engage with me, and perhaps I can serve as a bridge.

My friends prayed for me and got the Scripture in Ezekiel 33. It’s all about being a watchman. God says to Ezekiel- If you speak up and warn people then you have done your duty, no matter how people respond. But if you don’t speak up, then you are accountable. So, I must speak up. I have opportunities to do that when I lead worship and preach, and in my daily life. Writing is one more way to speak up. I have learned in my work in multi-ethnicity that silence isn’t neutral- it is negative. You have to say something. So I want to say something in writing, while being thoughtful to keep Black voices and Black leaders at the center.

Here are two blogs I strongly suggest you check out by Black leaders/thinkers I highly respect.

Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes

Sean M. Watkins

I’ve come to the end of anger sustaining me. Not that anger isn’t a right response, but I’m hungry for something more. I’m having to dig deeper to stay engaged. And I choose to write because I don’t want to hide behind the privilege of disengagement. I have come to believe that hope is a spiritual discipline and that it is the fuel needed to sustain. I don’t mean a hope that leads to cheesy sayings that cause me to engage less with pain in the world. But hope that helps me stay engaged with the world even when it is breaking my heart.

Also, I’ve felt stuck because stories come and go before I can form my thoughts about them. But I’ve realized that even if it feels like facebook, and twitter, and the news have moved on, there is a place for deeper reflection that takes time. And it is important for me to complete my own reflections, even if momentum has shifted elsewhere. The Charleston shooting took place less than six weeks ago. It merits greater thought. Thoughts that I can’t sort out in 48 hours. And feelings that can’t be completed in 24 hours.

I’m heading to Ferguson later this week to participate in a series of events surrounding the one year mark of Michael Brown’s death. Do you remember the extreme and militarized response to the protesters? Do you Aftermath of Michael Brown shooting, Ferguson, Missouri, America - 18 Aug 2014remember the doubt that greeted the protesters? The assumption that the Black community was overreacting. But nobody thought that tanks was overacting? And after the Ferguson report came out- who let that real data change their minds? The report showed a constant and systemic harassment of the Black community. All of that was less than a year ago. Have we grown at all?

I’m going as a pilgrimage to mark a painful year. I’m going to sit at the feet of Black academics, Black leaders, and Black activists and learn from them. I’m going as a spiritual pilgrimage to say that, I believe, to be a Christian in the United States in 2015 means to care about this movement, join it, participate in whatever way is helpful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

04/22/15

Is He Just Rude or Oppressing Me?

Here’s the Facebook post that started all this.

 Ok I need my FB community to weigh in on this. Tonight I had the privilege of attending a performance by the Dance Theater of Harlem. Amazing! By far the most diverse crowd I’ve seen in Portland. Almost a third African American. As I sat waiting for the show to start, an older white man asked me to take my hair out of the bun that it was in because it was high and blocking his view. Before I share my response I’m curious how others of you view this interaction and what lens you would use to interpret it.

 

Since my fabulous FB community did weigh in- I decided to write out a more thorough response than could fit in FB comments.

 

Lens #1- The dude just wants to see the stage.

I get this. I was at a play last week and the women sitting next to me was holding the program on her lap and the stage light was glaring off of it in a weird way. So I politely asked her to put in on the floor. She did. I was no longer distracted. I believe this was part of what was going on.

 Lens #2- My hair is less political than a Black woman’s hair

My first thought, after feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed by his request, was to be glad that he hadn’t made the request of a Black woman. I was in a theater full of Black women, wearing their hair natural, or in braids that were in buns much larger than mine. White people commenting on Black women’s hair is racially, politically, socially, and historically charged. I was annoyed, but sort of glad it was me instead of one of the women around me. Cause having a white guy tell you to change your hair, as one of the only Black folks in Portland, while you are waiting to watch the Dance Theater of Harlem is NOT where it’s at.

 Lens #3- Cause he’s a man.

The women he was sitting with were clearly embarrassed by his request. They were laughing and I could hear them whispering “He asked her to take down her bun.” I don’t think that a woman would have asked me to do that. One, because a woman understands that another woman has put some time and energy into her appearance, and asking her to change it while she is in a fancy theater is pretty rude. But also because it assumes a type of power that women typically don’t exert over each other directly.

 Lens #4- Intersection- Thank you bell hooks

One of my FB friends asked why I made a point of describing his age, race, and gender. I included that he was an older white man, because I believe it was the intersection of those identities that made him think he could ask me to take down my hair. Try to imagine a young Black man asking an older white woman to change her hairdo. It wouldn’t happen. The man’s request reflected privilege and it affected how I experienced it. If an elderly Korean woman had told me to take down my hair, I would have experienced it differently. Context matters.

Do I think he was trying to “oppress” me? Not intentionally. But did he act out of place that was both rude and privileged? Yes. And I’m left processing the interaction, while he is enjoying the show- without the obstruction of my bun.

Because though I was surprised by his request, I was caught of guard and just acquiesced. And then I spent the rest of the night trying to articulate why it bothered me so much.

I would have felt self conscious pushing back, and that would have made me feel embarrassed. I’m direct when I’m talking about other people’s oppression. But I turn pretty indirect and Asian American in my communication when I feel personally offended. Do I wish I was different? Do I wish I had had some sassy response in the moment? Sure. But that’s why it’s feisty thoughts- where I have time to put things in writing. Not feisty improv comedy that fights racial and gendered micro-aggressions.

In the big picture this is not a terrible interaction.

But when you add that to the older white guy in Starbucks who made weird slanty eyed gestures and asked me what I was from

And then you add that to the seminary class where the 8 (mostly white) guys talk non-stop for 2 hours, as the 4 women in the class sit silently.

And then you add that to the man who called me the other day and mansplained my job to me.

And then you add that to the consistency with which older white men in Christianity talk to and about ethnic minority women with a condescending and patronizing manner.

Then it becomes something more than just a rude guy at the theater.

When people tell me that I’m making something out of nothing- I want them to understand it’s a part of a much larger experience, not just an isolated incident.

But if my response to this man is really strong, I get interpreted as crazy and inappropriate, because people don’t see the buildup of multiple other “isolated” interactions. And getting dismissed only drives up the crazy.

Would love to hear more of your experiences with this type of thing.

And here is a photo of the bun of oppression. Thought much less cute than how I had it at the theater.

IMG_0962

 

 

 

04/14/15

Why are we always Peter and never Judas?

I was studying the opening chapter of Acts today. I’ve always had a hard time with the book. The stories don’t capture me in the same way as the gospels. But I’ve made this commitment to sit with the text until it stirs my imagination. So I sat there being bored until I got curious about Judas. I started wondering how the disciples must have felt about Judas. I don’t hear much discussion of Judus in the church. He’s usually cast aside as a two-dimensional character. But that interpretation isn’t satisfying. Judas was one of the twelve. Jesus stayed up all night discerning who to focus on and commit to for three years, and Judas made the cut.  He was personally mentored by the living incarnate God for three years. He was sent out on multiple missionary journeys. He cast out demons, he healed the sick, he preached the gospel. He received almost the exact same training as Peter. He had an intimate relationship with Jesus, sharing life on a day-to-day basis. So how can we dismiss him in such a perfunctory manner?

How did the discples feel about Judas? They must have been friends. They must have  grown to close. It’s always presented as if their feelings towards J6a00d8341bffb053ef00e54f45be3b8833-500wiudas were clearcut- he betrayed Jesus so we hate him. But it seems like their feelings about Judas would have been complicated. He is in every memory that they have of learning and growing with Jesus. He wasn’t pure evil incarnate all the time. He was just like them. So much so, that up until the night that he actually betrayed Jesus, he didn’t stand out as very different from the group.

When I first considered writing about this, I started from the perspective of Peter. What do you do when you’re leading a team and you lose a member ? What do you do when there is betrayal in a community? But I had to ask myself , why am I assuming that I’m Peter when I read a story. Why aren’t I Judas. Why do I always identify with the positive example? This really got me thinking. Why does everyone think they are Peter, and nobody thinks that they are Judas, because the difference between the two men doesn’t seem very clear to me. They both seem passionate. They were both committed to Jesus. Jesus saw something in Judas that made him worth making one of the twelve. I honestly don’t know if, when Jesus appointed to 12, He knew that Judas would betray Him. It’s easy to assume that he did in retrospect, but it seems like an awful waste of leadership development to spent three years with somebody, if they’re only purpose is to betray you in the end. That keeps our view of Judas two dimensional and I’m not satisfied with that anymore.images-196

I’ve heard many sermons where the preacher has identified with Peter. Often in self deprecating ways- “I’m loud and opinionated- like Peter!” or  “We are all tempted to deny Jesus- like Peter.” But still, they are identifying with the man that became the head of the church. So it’s a bit of a humble brag.

Lets have the courage to see ourselves in Judas. Especially those of us who would call ourselves “committed Christians.” Judas was a committed disciple of Jesus. Judas changed his whole life around so that he could be one of Jesus’ disciples. When Peter says “We have left everything to follow you.” Judas is included in that well. He paid costs in order to follow Jesus. You can’t fake commitment like that for three years.

Judas is challenging to me personally, because many believe that he was a Zealot. His surname, Iscariot, translates to Dagger. Such men carried daggers at all times, prepared to take action in pursuit of their desire to see Rome overthrown. Judas was political, he was an activist, he was passionate about his cause. All of this catches my attention because I am an activist and I long to see systemic transformation in my own country. So in that way, I am like Judas.

Judas must have been trustworthy because he was given charge of the money box. So he appeared responsible and integrous to his peer group. Perhaps this was a point of pride for him, he had a responsibility that the other men did not. But at some point he began to steal from the money box. So Judas is somebody who appears trustworthy and responsible and is entrusted with tasks by his peers, but has some hidden character flaws. In that way, I am like Judas

In addition, I’m not sure how his betrayal is worse than Peter’s betrayal. Both Peter 6a00d8341bffb053ef0133ec634d93970b-640wiand Judas betray their relationship with Jesus in his greatest moment of need. Both men regret it later. Peter is ashamed and afraid to be associated with Jesus and not once, but three times, he denies even knowing Jesus. Judas is no longer in agreement with Jesus’ picture of the Kingdom of God, so he sells him out. The consequences of his actions are greater, but is the content of his heart so different than Peters? I don’t have a good answer to this question, but I feel challenged by the presence of Judas and I don’t want to dismiss him is a two-dimensional character that can’t teach me anything. He is a humbling and challenging silent figure in almost every gospel story.

File_PassionMovie_JudasMy reflection this morning made me feel like I need to be more deliberate about learning from the “bad guys” of scripture. Maybe I need to think more about how I’m like Herod instead of assuming I’m like John the Baptist. Maybe I need to see how I’m like Saul instead of pretending that I’m like David. Maybe I need the humility to see how I’m like Pilate instead of Joseph of Arimathea.

My take away from this morning is that I need to have the humility to see myself in every character in the Bible.  I need to have the courage to see myself in the crowd that asked Jesus to leave after he cast the demons out of the demoniac.  I need to have the humility to see myself in the crowd that wants to throw Jesus off the cliff in Luke four. I need to see myself in the crowd that wanted to throw stones at the woman caught in adultery.  I need to see myself in the people that try to silence Bartimaeus as he cries out for Jesus to have mercy on him. I’m well trained in gleaning leadership lessons from Peter and Paul and trying to model myself after Jesus. Maybe I’ve been too proud to truly see myself in all the other characters in the Bible. And I think that is limiting my growth and my learning.