We’ve been diving into Faith and Race at Quest lately, with the second in a three part class last night, and our conference quickly approaching. This past week, a situation with Christian publishers Zondervan and (white) authors Mike Foster and Jud Wilhite has lit up the blogosphere. Much of the initial attention came from Dr. Soong Chan Rah, the North Park prof and ECC minister who will be speaking in the upcoming conference.

So what’s the deal?

Mike and Jud have published a book and series of resources called “Deadly Viper Character Assassins” that use blatant Asian stereotypes and references to Asian culture to sell their materials. The materials themselves have to do with encouraging integrity and fighting against allowing sin to control your life. Somehow, Asian stereotypes including ninjas, sumo wrestlers, nonsensical Chinese characters, and even a white guy using a fake “asian” accent in a video have been used to market the materials. Huh? What’s okay about conflating all Asian cultures into a generic “Asian” theme, and using it to market Christian materials, thus incorporating offensive, racist sterotypes alongside the Gospel message. Dr. Rah said it so eloquently on his blog:

My contention is not about the content of the book itself (i.e. – the material that discusses integrity and character). It is with the way in which you choose to co-opt Asian culture in inappropriate ways. Let me cite Edward Said in Orientalism where he states: “Orientalism can be discussed and analyzed as the corporate institution for dealing with the Orient – dealing with it by making statements about it, authorizing views of it, describing it, by teaching it, settling it, ruling over it: in short, Orientalism as a Western style of dominating, restructuring, and having authority over the Orient.”

Mike and Jud, you are two white males who are inappropriately co-opting another culture and using it to further the marketing of your book. You are not from our cultural framework, yet you feel that you have the authority to represent our culture before others. In other words, you are using what are important and significant cultural symbols to make a sale or to make your point. It is an affront to those who are a part of that culture. You’ll notice that there are a number of individuals that take offense at the ways you misuse Chinese characters. You also confuse aspects of Japanese and Chinese cultures. These are two very distinct and ancient cultures that you did not take the time to understand before using those symbols as a fun way to market your products.

Here are some examples of the more glaring and egregious offenses:

This video clip is extremely offensive and portraying Asians in a cartoonish manner in order market your merchandise. Particularly offensive is the voiceover of a white person doing a faux Asian accent: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=35881373178&ref=mf

This image presents Asian as sinister enemies: http://www.facebook.com/search/?q=deadly+viper&init=quick#/photo.php?pid=2233965&id=101311418670

This quote reveals an insensitivity to the Chinese language and mocks Chinese names: “There is a killer called Zi Qi Qi Ren. No, this is not some communicable disease, but it certainly is deadly. This funky Chinese word”

The use of Chinese characters and kanji in a non-sensical manner.

Other offenses:

The confusion and conflation of Chinese and Japanese cultures.

The use of Asian symbols, like a Japanese garden, kimonos, samurai swords in a non-essential manner that does not honor the heritage or culture of Asians.

You are taking a caricature of Asian culture (the martial arts warrior, the ninja, etc.) and furthering the caricature rather than engaging Asian culture in a way that honors it.

The bottom line. You are representing a culture that you do not know very well to thousands of people. You are using another culture to make your message more fun. That is offensive to those of us that are of that culture and seek to honor our culture.

In response to all of this, what can YOU, as a Christian, do in response to this situation?

1) Write to the Publishers. Zondervan is the Christian publishing house backing the materials. They’ve asked that protest emails be sent through their online forum at http://www.zondervan.com/Cultures/en-US/Company/FAQ.htm?QueryStringSite=Zondervan Click on the “contact us” tab, and type in your response.
2) Write to the Authors. Mike and Jud’s blog about the materials can be found at http://www.deadlyviper.org/blog/
3) Spread the word as a Facebook status or Twitter message. Here’s a sample message that can be cut and pasted into your status with the URL’s shrunk down for space: just sent my letter of protest to Zondervan. You can too: http://tinyurl.com/ykzte8q Make your voice heard! Wonder what I’m talking about? Click here: http://tinyurl.com/ygwjfwy

What are you waiting for, get online and ACT! Together, we can make a difference.

I’m white. I also live in the United States, a society that elevates upper middle class white culture as the normative ideal. I enjoy a number of advantages simply because of the color of my skin. I can choose to live in a predominantly white neighborhood, associate with mostly white people, worship at a white church, shop in majority white neighborhoods and bask in the insidious illusion that I deserve all that I have accomplished. I can pretend that my own intelligence and merit and hard work have brought me to the place I am today. The problem is, it’s all built on a lie. Once you stop to examine the institutional racism that pervades every aspect of our society and our world, the conclusion is clear: the deck has been stacked from the beginning in favor of those with white skin, money and power. But as a white person, what can I do about racism? As long as I don’t consider myself a racist, I’m okay, right?

Because I am part of the group favored by the lie, I can choose to pretend it doesn’t exist. In fact, media, culture and society all push me toward acceptance of the status quo with a matrix-like obsession with false fulfillment, so long as I buy into the system. Once you recognize the system and begin to challenge its ideals, you are no longer seen as a good citizen. In classes, I have challenged the selection of readings or pedagogical approaches, offended by the lily white course offerings, only to be asked why I would be offended by this, because usually only ‘those’ students complain. That I may take issue with the perpetuation of majority white viewpoints in classes intended to instill within future ministers the ability to draw congregations further into the reality of the Kingdom of God is puzzling, somehow, when coming from a white woman. Challenging racist practices in academia, church and society is sometimes seen by white people as a practice only undertaken by people of color. Why would I speak about racism when I myself might be called a racist, or accused of being the oppressor?

To be clear, I agree with Becky Thompson’s statement in A Promise and a Way of Life that “There would be no significant white antiracist struggle or cultural practices were it not for the resistance of people of color.” Power is at once seductive and blinding and without the critical lens of resistance, without relationship that allows both to see each other with the humanity of beings created equally in the image of God, why would one group choose to give up the privilege that dominance and oppression of another group brings? I would further state that the Gospel itself calls all who identify as followers of Christ to be the first to resist, the first to speak, the first to repent of privilege and oppression, and the first to advocate for a Kingdom equality that counters the cultural norms reinforced by our society and our world. Bluntly, white people who consider themselves Christians must embrace the identity of someone who “daily vigilantly resist[s] becoming reinvested in white supremacy.” (bell hooks in O’Brien, 2002)

Personally, I have felt called to participate in anti-racist work as a white person on a systemic level since college. Learning more deeply about issues of race, class and gender opened my heart and mind to the reality of our society and to my own complicity in creating and maintaining that reality. In the thirteen years since those classes, I have been personally compelled, again and again to repentance and turning away from complacency. I have failed many times in speaking out against those very systems that give me privilege and oppress others. I continue attempting to learn through action what it means to walk alongside as advocate and ally, knowing that my own liberation is inextricably entwined with that of my brothers and sisters. Like the rich young ruler of scripture I cannot approach the Kingdom, I cannot follow Christ, if I am unwilling to give up my own privilege for my own sake, and work toward the coming of the Kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven.” At times, the most difficult part of this journey has often been sharing the road with other white folks. Honestly, we are often defensive, indignant, ignorant and unwilling to acknowledge our own place in the system of racial injustice. White folks are likely to say things like “it’s so hard for me to do anything about racism, because it makes me feel bad.” And just as ridiculous, “I don’t get enough practice talking about race, so I feel like I can’t speak out about it.” White people need to stand up and take issue every time racism and racial injustice rear their ugly heads, we need to repent of our own apathy and complicity, and we need to recognize that it is a big deal for all of us. There will be times when it seems overwhelming, when it feels like you say the wrong thing, or you feel that you’re learning. Embrace the discomfort as a sign that you’re actually starting to see and experience the system, and step outside of the privilege that has constructed a comfortable society for you. Join with others who are on the same journey and never assume you have arrived, or finished your own heart work. Instead of always calling in a person of color to speak about diversity, how can white folks also speak about power and privilege in way that sends the message that racism is something white folks care about, stand up against, and will no longer practice.

This post is a very limited attempt at approaching a multifaceted and complex issue, and I will be addressing further thoughts in upcoming weeks. In the meantime, there are many white anti-racist leaders who have provided role models for the work we must be doing. If you’re reading this as a white person, look up Anne Braden, J. Waties Waring, Mab Segrest, Virginia Foster Durr, and Tim Wise. While their resistance has not been widely publicized, they are only a few of the white anti-racist leaders who have been active in speaking and acting against the systemic injustice of racism. What are you called to do?

I belong to a wonderful, tightly knit denomination. At our annual pastor’s gathering this year I was introduced to about a thousand new people, and remembered some of them. A few months ago, I received a follow-up email from one of the new faces, an editor for our denomination’s monthly magazine. Cathy asked me if I was willing to write something up for the denomination, and I obliged. Thanks to Cathy’s masterful editing, a briefer version of the article below will be posted in the November Companion magazine. For both of my blog readers, I thought I’d reward you with the extended version. The topic was “thanksgiving”.

My family used to have a wanagan. When I lived in Alaska, my family built an extra room—wanagan is an old logging term used to describe a shack or room to store goods–onto our trailer so that we could store food for the winter. Living on Kuiu Island, there were no grocery stores, telephones or paved roads and supplies arrived from the nearest towns via floatplane. In winter, brutal snowstorms often meant weeks or a month between deliveries, isolating us from the world. Necessities like toilet tissue were ordered by the case, milk came seven gallons at a time and joined the fish, deer, and in a good year, moose, in the chest freezer. Looking into that room, my mother could tell what we needed for our next order, if we were running low, or if she should send my brother or me to borrow from a neighbor before the next plane arrived. Our survival depended on our ability to prepare well for the coldest season, and when fishing or hunting was plentiful, we joyfully gave thanks. What can we learn from these patterns of harvest and rejoicing, storing up the means to sustain ourselves through the long cold seasons of life?

In any church, there is cause for great rejoicing, and cause for great mourning. This past year, we have grappled together with death, illness, unemployment, loss and disappointment. In the midst of such circumstances, how can we encourage one another to rejoice, give thanks, and know we are prepared for the arrival of our own winters? Praying for a parishioner this week, I was reminded of the wanagan. While storing up provisions in Alaska meant hunting, smoking fish and ordering ahead from the grocery store on the next island over, here at Quest storing up spiritual nourishment means gathering regularly for Sunday worship and community groups. Tucking away words of encouragement, scripture, song, and lessons learned in Biblical teaching, we fill the storerooms of our hearts. Hearing again each week the Gospel message of a God who “so loved the world”, we cannot help but respond to such news with hearts of thanksgiving. If we recognize the importance of storing up material provisions of food and necessities to make it through the long winters, how much more do we need to store up spiritual provisions to help us make it through the long, cold seasons of our lives?

During those winters in Alaska everything would shut down, drifts piled so deep the Alaska Pulp Corporation closed operations. With storerooms full, knowing we could borrow from one another when supplies ran short, the few families who wintered in the logging camp built a deep bond. As the Northern lights came, we would run from house to house, knocking on doors to let them know the show had begun. Together, we would trudge in our snow clothes to a clearing, and lay on our backs in the snow, staring up at the brilliant, living tapestry of light overhead. The kids would break out sleds, the adults would brew coffee, and together we rejoiced in the cold.

Just as preparing the bounty of a material harvest protected us from hunger and allowed us to enjoy the winter, the fruits of a spiritual harvest are critical to survival in community. Ministering to those in situations of deep heartache and need, we are called to remember those promises stored up in times of plenty, how God has spoken to us and showed Himself real in moments of crisis. Together each Sunday, and during our personal devotions, we mine the rich depths of scripture to learn of God’s character and promises. In Psalm 30 we are promised that “weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” We are given the ultimate expression of God’s love in the person of Jesus Christ and the sacrifice made for us (John 3:16). In Revelation 7:9-17 we glimpse the final restoration of God’s kingdom come on earth as in heaven, where all God’s children are gathered in worship. As we look inside our own spiritual wanagans, how have we been outfitted to survive the seasons? Do we remember to pause in thanksgiving for the promises we have been given as children of the living God, and are we willing to share our gifts with those around us in need?

The litany of suffering in community is all too familiar to those in ministry. Another couple separates and prepares for divorce. Cancer brutally ravages the life of a young family. A father finds himself for the first time without employment or the means to support his wife and children. The local hospital calls: the family has requested a pastor to bless a newborn baby before he dies. Can you come? These are the cold seasons, the times of desolation. Faced alone, they can seem overwhelming, a spiritual wasteland without end. But we are not alone. In seasons of need or doubt, we are called to come alongside one another for encouragement and prayer, and we are sent the gift of the Holy Spirit, that God might minister to us directly in our pain.

Standing alongside that newborn baby boy and his family, I prayed to God for help. I am not yet a mother; I can guess but do not know how this young woman and her family are feeling as the life support is removed, and the tiny infant laid in her arms. I pray, and I hear the Spirit nudging: ‘sing to the baby’. Asking, I learn there is a song they have sung often in the short weeks of this child’s life. In one voice, we all sing “Jesus Loves the Little Children” as both blessing and benediction. Precious in His sight, as we sang together that afternoon the baby joined his twin in the arms of Jesus. While I could claim it as my own idea, acting out of my own wisdom, the truth is I have no background or gifting in music. I wriggle out of singing the benediction at church as often as possible. And yet in a small room, with a dozen people present, I felt the Spirit urging me to use what I perceive as my weakest weakness to bring comfort. In this postmodern age, we may consider ourselves removed from the act of laying up provisions and offering thankful sacrifices to a God who has given us the means to survive a difficult season. In that hospital room, God provided when I was sure I was lacking. For that provision, and for all of God’s provision, I give thanks.

After we were welcomed to Chamwino by St. Peter’s, I accompanied Quest Elder Barbara Lundquist; Dr. Kati Szego, a former pupil of Barb’s and current professor of Music at Memorial University in Canada; Karl Dreschler, a Seattlite who will be living for a year in Chamwino while working on behalf of Chamwino Connect; Lewis Kashiri, a man from Zimbabwe who also plans on assisting the project in Chamwino; and Zachary Gerald to our next stop.  The musical folks in our party had arranged a visit with a remarkable group of women singers, the Muh Eme singers.  As we traveled, we were accompanied by Pastor Daniel Meshach, the amazing Nassan Mazengo and Rev. Eubert Nyembela.  After a few years of reading names printed on paper, it was great to meet many of these folks in real life.

Left to right pictured are Kedmon's mother, Pastor Daniel, Pastor Nyembela, Barb, Kati, Karl (standing) and myself. Lewis is just out of the frame on the right.

Much of the next few days of our journey were a blur of introductions and music.  As we were visiting Chamwino, we also met with the village chairman Joseph Seganji, as a matter of respect, and to learn more of the village’s unique history in Tanzania.

That's the Seganji in the green just to my right. On the far left next to Barb is Imani, who graciously translated for us. Zach and Nassan are in front, and Pastor Nyembela, Lewis, and Yousef are on my left.

We’re standing at the heart of the village, with the memorial to former president Nyerere’s philosophy on our right in the background.  As the village was created by Nyerere as an example of what it could mean for the people of Tanzania to work together, the president lived in the village for a few months.  Even today, state houses remain in the village for a time when the current president decides to visit.

While we witnessed and enjoyed many musical performances, my favorite memories continue to be those of relationships and friendships started.  To know Zach, who is graduating this week from the University of Dar es Salaam and looking to start his own business.  Lewis, who has been working alongside Professor Mitch Strumpf to get the efforts of those in Seattle connected to the team in Chamwino, whose family is still in Zimbabwe, and whom he misses greatly.  I think of Nassan and all the work he has done to carry out the projects at St. Peter’s.

Today, I leave you with a video of the women singing.  Would it help to know that these songs were once used in female circumcision rituals, and now have found new meaning? That the woman leading the songs used to perform the rituals herself, and that these women are some who have come of age under her leadership and guidance? It adds meaning to the untrained ear knowing that there are layers upon layers of context here, layers that the women are now singing for themselves.

Just over two weeks ago, I made my way out of the airport in Dar es Salaam and into the waiting arms of Barbara Lundquist and a local friend, Zach Gerald. Pitching my trusty backpack and a bag of donated clothes into the back of our vehicle, we headed for Prof. Mitch Strumpf’s house and early the next morning set out for the village of Chamwino.  What does it mean to build partnership with a parish halfway around the world? I was about to find out. As we approached St. Peter’s Church, we were greeted with song and dancing.

A few of the folks gathered at St. Peter's. The woman on the far right is Kedmon Mapana's mother!

Along the way, St. Peter’s Pastor, Pastor Daniel Meshach, joined us for a song.

Me and Pastor Daniel, chillin in Chamwino.

Having been to Chamwino before, Barb points out the new church building to all of us.

The new St. Peter's, Maduma Parish, is almost complete!

Joining the village for a week was more than a short-term experience; it was meant to be a time of continuing to build relationships that had been started by Barbara more than two years ago on her initial journey to Tanzania.  Over the next few days, and next few blog posts, I look forward to introducing you to Nassan, the project coordinator in Chamwino, the St. Peter’s Church council, and some of the talented and amazing musical groups we met along the way.  For now, I leave you with a snapshot of the congregation gathered in the new church building.  The ladies in red are part of the Jericho Choir, one of five choirs that all call St. Peter’s home.  Incidentally, everyone asked how our church choir was doing, and expressed their sincere apologies when I shared that we had no choir. Perhaps it’s time for some cross cultural worship music sharing!

If you look closely, you can see the windows on the sides, and the doorways in the back. More building pics to come, and sincere gratitude for those who have sponsored doors and windows!

Stay tuned next post for links to music videos, more pics of time with the church council, and Kedmon and Pendo’s house! Thanks so much Kedmon and Pendo for letting us crash at your house in Chamwino, and thanks to Kedmon for all his coordinating from across the ocean.

After 18+ hours of travel, I arrived in Dubai a few hours ago for a 12 hour layover and decided to attempt pictures and a blog post. While it’s considered overnight here, thankfully I’m still enough on Seattle time to process it more like a day spent walking around the airport. There were a few indicators along the way that the airport here is a little different.

First sight out of security: Lamborghini Gallardo LPS60. This could be a nice take-home gift for Alan.

Next up, I took a look at the map to find food, restrooms, oh, and GOLD.

Umm...just what do they mean by "Gold"?

And then I realized they’re serious about their Gold.  The long counters are separated by karat weight, and ’special’ vs. ‘regular’. I could only take a quick snap walking by, the security guards didn’t seem too crazy about pictures in this area.

The staff at the 24 karat counter, hanging out.

Since I already had my eye on the Lamborghini for Alan, I decided to pick a little something out for myself as well. Tasteful, understated, modest.

A nice little bauble. Seriously, the last time I saw a rock this big I was in the Tower of London checking out the crown jewels. Sheesh.

After passing the hotel, spa, two story French restaurant and bar, I thought I heard a waterfall. Turns out, I did.

Getting back to nature...

And now, after all that, I think it’s time for prayer. Good thing the prayer rooms are everywhere!

St. Peter's Anglican Church in Chamwino, under construction

Next Tuesday, I’ll step on board one of Boeing’s finest airplanes and begin two straight days of travel.  From San Francisco to Dubai, Dubai to Dar es Salaam, I’ll join Quest Elder Barbara Lundquist and head to Chamwino, Tanzania.  Having been to Tanzania a few times, and as the founder of Chamwino Connect, Barb is one of the church’s primary contacts with the village and the projects Quest is supporting.  Along with recent Seattle native and Tanzanian Chamwino Connect member and Quester Kedmon Mapana, Barb has created an itinerary designed to build relationship and further establish ties between Seattle and Chamwino.

Kedmon and Pendo Mapana, celebrating the music of Chamwino. Kedmon is currently studying for his doctorate in Seattle, and has been instrumental in establishing Chamwino Connect. He, Pendo, and son Rasmus attend Quest on Sundays.

If you’re a member, attender or supporter of Quest Church, this concerns you directly.  A portion of all giving and budgeted funds have gone toward this project for the past two years.  As we continue discerning how to deepen our partnership with Chamwino Connect, we’re headed to Tanzania this July to pray with our brothers and sisters, build relationships, and get to know one another.  In the years to come, this could become a site for partnership through Questers moving to Tanzania, working with the education and health care projects, or working with strategic short term projects.  Pray with us as we walk alongside our brothers and sisters in Tanzania in an attempt to fellowship and seek God’s heart together.  Come out to our monthly Global Presence meetings–next Monday July 13th, 7pm at Q Cafe–and dream with us.   If you’re interested in becoming more involved with Chamwino Connect specifically, email Barb at lundquistbarbara@gmail.com

Nasson Mazengo, Chamwino project coordinator, is presenting his report infront of the St. Peter's church.

Remember 2007?  Buddhist monks peacefully protested in the streets of Rangoon, Burma (Myanmar).  As they walked or stood, in robes of crimson and saffron, they were arrested, beaten, shot, killed, silenced.  The international community was outraged, celebrities were contacted, and suddenly we were all sporting t-shirts and bracelets.  Protests took place here in the US, and a campaign was started to put pressure on the illegal military junta: 30 days for a million voices, the Burma Can’t Wait campaign for freedom for the people of Burma.  The new Rambo movie even highlighted the ongoing civil war in the country.  Only Burma is still waiting.  The fickle media attention has waned, and democratically elected ruler Ang San Suu Kyi has celebrated her 64^th birthday under house arrest.

Fast forward to now. The Burmese military continues their nationwide campaign of terror, and is currently focused on the Thai/Burma border, home to many ethnic refugee camps, orphanages, and the most vulnerable.  Children and families are fleeing for their lives, and Thai border police who stand watch are told they must return the children to the Burmese military so they can be killed.  Most of the reports we have received through our contacts we cannot share here, for the safety of those involved.  One secure way to keep in touch with the conflict is through the Thai Burma Border Consortium Website, a group dedicated to helping those in the border region.

Quest has partnered with organizations helping meet needs in the area for years, and we have pledged $3,000 from our Global Presence Foundation to provide the most vulnerable with the most needed supplies: giving food, mosquito nets, blankets, medicine and tarps to children and families.  If you would like to contribute as well, give through our partner organization, World Aid.  Give, and pray for these children, women and men who fight and run for their very lives.  In the words of one border worker, pray that they persecutors (Saul’s) would become witnesses (Paul’s), that God would turn the hearts of the military officers and soldiers.  Pray for safety for those who flee, and for freedom and peace for all people living in Burma.  Shine the light.

Along with a few delegates from our denomination, my mother in law and I are chilling out in Portland, Oregon for the Evangelical Covenant Church Annual Meeting.  Currently, we’re in a meeting with all the other pastors in our denomination, a gathering referred to as the ministerium. Sounds sinister, and perhaps it has that potential, but it’s really a great opportunity to spend time together, and hear how the greater denomination family is doing.

Saturday, we’re scheduled for ordination, and for those who are interested, the link above will take you to a live video feed. I have no idea what to expect, but am prayerfully excited about the next steps of honoring God’s call.

Isaiah 50:4-9a

To those who suffer, what words of comfort dare we offer? Do we know the “word that sustains the weary,” (v. 4)?  In the late 1990’s, besieged by circumstances unaccountably complex, my parents were faced with an impossible choice: choose which child you will keep.  Working class salaries, especially when work became harder and harder to find, could no longer cover the medical care my younger brother needed.  Can you imagine the loss?  Who is there to vindicate your cause against government and economic systems that would rather see a family apart, than together?

Isaiah speaks prophetically of a God who knows loss and suffering, a God who is subject to impossible circumstances, and yet finds hope in the “Sovereign LORD who helps me,” (v. 9).  The Jesus I identify with is the Jesus who knows what it is to suffer, and still finds hope.  These are the words that sustain the weary.

God, in my suffering, may I hear your words of hope.  Grant me the strength to believe in your help, and to allow you to be my vindicator.  Amen.