Here's something a tad different. My internship site places the audio from sermons online, which means that the sermons I've preached are all online. Ack. The last sermon I preached was not on the Gospel text (which starts the audio file), but instead what I found to be a daunting text: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20.
And here you go: http://www.stpaul-lutheran.com/sermons/20120115.mp3
Showing posts with label theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theology. Show all posts
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, the Lord hath need of thee...
Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year B, December 18, 2011
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
Shortly after I was baptized, my pastor told me that he thought I should go to seminary. I was pretty confused. I thought I didn’t need to go to seminary, I was just fine the way that I was. And I wrestled for a good long time with what my pastor told me. I actually gave him a few choice words after he said that, words that I won’t repeat for you here. But I was confused. I was upset, and I was definitely wondering where in the world did my pastor get that idea? I wondered, “How can this be?”
That’s one of the fascinating things about call stories in the Bible. There are numerous accounts of people who struggle with being tapped by God as favored, as chosen, who wonder aloud, “How can this be?” There’s an internal struggle, the self doubt, the lamenting of “Why me? Couldn’t God have picked anyone else, because this is a really big deal… Anyone who could be more qualified, more skilled, more adept, yet God picked… me?” Then there’s processing, discerning, and sometimes, acceptance.
Which leads me to today’s Gospel lesson. The Annunciation, otherwise known as part of Mary’s call story. God’s messenger, the angel Gabriel, came to Mary and gave her some interesting news. One of the reasons why I wanted to share the conversation between my pastor and me was because in reading today’s Gospel, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Mary’s head when Gabriel came to her. What were the thoughts running through her head when Gabriel told her that she was so highly favored as to bear the Son of God?
Perhaps it would be helpful to have some background information on Mary… We know her as the mother of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, but Mary was also an ordinary girl. A very human girl. She was probably a teenager, around 12 or 13 years old. Mary was from the equivalent of middle-of-nowhere Hicksville. Before Jesus’ birth and tourist buses, Nazareth was not a happening place; it was looked down upon as a lowly little village. To heighten more of Mary’s ordinary life, her family was probably poor and part of the peasant class… These characteristics make Mary an insignificant and unremarkable girl. She was just a plain ol’ poor girl from the backwaters of Nazareth.
In the Gospel, we’re clued into Mary having a very human reaction to Gabriel’s visit and message. Mary, who in her brief depictions in the Bible is shown as a great person of faith, also struggled with this announcement, with this call. She was perplexed and pondered Gabriel’s words. But these words, perplexed and pondered, may be too “delicate” for the situation. Instead of perplexed, how about the word disturbed? Or even agitated? She may not have verbalized them, but she may have had some choice words for Gabriel… wondering, why me? To quote Mary, “How can this be?”
Mary was also probably a good Jewish girl, knowing her Hebrew Bible. This meant Mary believed in the arrival of a Messiah. But can you imagine her surprise when the angel Gabriel told her that not only will she give birth to a child, but the child she will carry “will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. [Her son] will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” No pressure, right? Yet this insignificant teenaged girl from an insignificant town and from an insignificant family… is visited by Gabriel, the messenger of God, being told that she has an amazing call and that God has found favor with her? How can this be? Why a poor peasant girl from the middle of nowhere?
Well, why not?
The minute we think we know how God will act in the world, God will to something radically different, something counter-cultural, something world changing. God promised in 2 Samuel that God would establish a dynasty for the house of David and that David’s kingdom would be forever. Yet the people of Israel had a tumultuous, difficult history in the time between God’s promise to David and Gabriel’s visit to Mary. This long-expected Messiah would lead them out of the constant oppression the Jewish people endured for hundreds of years. And God keeps God’s promises… yet those promises are kept in unexpected and surprising ways. Can you imagine Mary’s surprise and shock when she’s told that she will give birth to the Messiah? And that the Messiah is not some great, strong, powerful military leader, but that the Messiah comes to us as a weak newborn, born in a filthy animal-filled stable? That God looks upon Mary with favor in the tangible and very alive life of a newborn baby?
God looks upon us with favor too, and in a very tangible way. What does it mean to have God look upon us with favor? In the waters of baptism, God looks upon us with favor. In the waters of baptism, we are born to a new life in Christ; a baptism service is filled with language of light, of new life, and of rebirth; all that we hope for in a post-Advent life. Baptismal services are filled with this hope with words such as:
“God, who is rich in mercy and love, gives us a new birth into a living hope.”
And words such as…
“By water and the Holy Spirit we are reborn children of God.”
And words such as…
“Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”
These words lead us to the light of new birth. We could say it is a time in our lives that’s pregnant with possibilities when we’re set aside to be carriers of new life. The old sinful self falls away to a new life. And in this new life of being with Christ, we are set aside to be ministers, set aside to be favored by God. Our ministries may differ from person to person. It doesn’t have to be ordained or lay ministry. It is more how we are the light of Christ in the world to one another. Regardless, we are called into ministry; we are called into new birth in the waters of baptism. And God looks upon us with favor.
But then what? What does it mean for you to have God look at you with favor and be active in your life? How do you live your call in this world waiting for Christ to return? In this world that’s filled with brokenness, how do each and every one of us live out our call that God places on our hearts, especially at times that are particularly difficult? On days when we’re standing in the line at the DMV? On days when we step over a panhandler in order to get into the grocery store? On days when we’re feeling rushed to get everything done? On days where we’re not feeling favored? While we may not be told we’re going to give birth to the Son of God, how then in our call as ministers do we still be the presence of Christ in difficult moments? Moments when we’re angry, upset, and want to turn our backs and walk away from our call? How are we the presence of Christ, the bearers of Christ, especially if we’re wrestling in moments when we ask, “Really God? Really? How can this be?”
I think we have expectations of how God acts in the world. But when God acts, we can ponder, be perplexed, be terrified, and be amazed. We can especially feel these emotions when God comes to us, telling us God has found favor with us. We can sometimes feel this flood of emotions when we hear the words, “The Lord hath need of thee…” (to quote Pastor Ross when he needs someone to do something...) God is so active, that God became human, born of Mary, to live out a human experience. Living out that human experience to know our joys, our fears, our hopes, our despair, our experiences as called bearers of Christ. Jesus, born of the poor, unwed, teenaged Mary, shows how the humble are lifted, the world is turned upside down, and God comes to meet us in the most human, the most tangible way, coming to share our experience with us at our lowest places. God comes to us in the tangible waters of birth, of new and hopeful life to state that God has found favor with us and sets us apart to be ministers. God surpasses our expectations time and time again.
God found favor with Mary. God finds favor with us. How… in our flesh… in new birth… in waiting for the birth of Christ… will we respond as a minister in this time of waiting, watching, and hoping?
I leave you with the words of Lynn Ungar and part her poem, “Incarnation.”
I confess that I am caught
by the story of Christmas,
by the pronouncement of the Spirit
upon Mary’s plain flesh.
What right did the angel
have to come to her
with the news of that
unprovided, unimaginable
birth? What right
had God to take on flesh
so out of season?
The flesh has so few choices,
the angels, perhaps, none.
The trees will shake themselves
and wait for spring.
The angels, unbodied, will clutch
the night with their singing.
And Mary, like so many,
troubled and available,
will hear the word:
The power of the Most High
will overshadow you
And in her flesh, respond.
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
Shortly after I was baptized, my pastor told me that he thought I should go to seminary. I was pretty confused. I thought I didn’t need to go to seminary, I was just fine the way that I was. And I wrestled for a good long time with what my pastor told me. I actually gave him a few choice words after he said that, words that I won’t repeat for you here. But I was confused. I was upset, and I was definitely wondering where in the world did my pastor get that idea? I wondered, “How can this be?”
That’s one of the fascinating things about call stories in the Bible. There are numerous accounts of people who struggle with being tapped by God as favored, as chosen, who wonder aloud, “How can this be?” There’s an internal struggle, the self doubt, the lamenting of “Why me? Couldn’t God have picked anyone else, because this is a really big deal… Anyone who could be more qualified, more skilled, more adept, yet God picked… me?” Then there’s processing, discerning, and sometimes, acceptance.
Which leads me to today’s Gospel lesson. The Annunciation, otherwise known as part of Mary’s call story. God’s messenger, the angel Gabriel, came to Mary and gave her some interesting news. One of the reasons why I wanted to share the conversation between my pastor and me was because in reading today’s Gospel, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Mary’s head when Gabriel came to her. What were the thoughts running through her head when Gabriel told her that she was so highly favored as to bear the Son of God?
Perhaps it would be helpful to have some background information on Mary… We know her as the mother of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, but Mary was also an ordinary girl. A very human girl. She was probably a teenager, around 12 or 13 years old. Mary was from the equivalent of middle-of-nowhere Hicksville. Before Jesus’ birth and tourist buses, Nazareth was not a happening place; it was looked down upon as a lowly little village. To heighten more of Mary’s ordinary life, her family was probably poor and part of the peasant class… These characteristics make Mary an insignificant and unremarkable girl. She was just a plain ol’ poor girl from the backwaters of Nazareth.
In the Gospel, we’re clued into Mary having a very human reaction to Gabriel’s visit and message. Mary, who in her brief depictions in the Bible is shown as a great person of faith, also struggled with this announcement, with this call. She was perplexed and pondered Gabriel’s words. But these words, perplexed and pondered, may be too “delicate” for the situation. Instead of perplexed, how about the word disturbed? Or even agitated? She may not have verbalized them, but she may have had some choice words for Gabriel… wondering, why me? To quote Mary, “How can this be?”
Mary was also probably a good Jewish girl, knowing her Hebrew Bible. This meant Mary believed in the arrival of a Messiah. But can you imagine her surprise when the angel Gabriel told her that not only will she give birth to a child, but the child she will carry “will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. [Her son] will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” No pressure, right? Yet this insignificant teenaged girl from an insignificant town and from an insignificant family… is visited by Gabriel, the messenger of God, being told that she has an amazing call and that God has found favor with her? How can this be? Why a poor peasant girl from the middle of nowhere?
Well, why not?
The minute we think we know how God will act in the world, God will to something radically different, something counter-cultural, something world changing. God promised in 2 Samuel that God would establish a dynasty for the house of David and that David’s kingdom would be forever. Yet the people of Israel had a tumultuous, difficult history in the time between God’s promise to David and Gabriel’s visit to Mary. This long-expected Messiah would lead them out of the constant oppression the Jewish people endured for hundreds of years. And God keeps God’s promises… yet those promises are kept in unexpected and surprising ways. Can you imagine Mary’s surprise and shock when she’s told that she will give birth to the Messiah? And that the Messiah is not some great, strong, powerful military leader, but that the Messiah comes to us as a weak newborn, born in a filthy animal-filled stable? That God looks upon Mary with favor in the tangible and very alive life of a newborn baby?
God looks upon us with favor too, and in a very tangible way. What does it mean to have God look upon us with favor? In the waters of baptism, God looks upon us with favor. In the waters of baptism, we are born to a new life in Christ; a baptism service is filled with language of light, of new life, and of rebirth; all that we hope for in a post-Advent life. Baptismal services are filled with this hope with words such as:
“God, who is rich in mercy and love, gives us a new birth into a living hope.”
And words such as…
“By water and the Holy Spirit we are reborn children of God.”
And words such as…
“Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”
These words lead us to the light of new birth. We could say it is a time in our lives that’s pregnant with possibilities when we’re set aside to be carriers of new life. The old sinful self falls away to a new life. And in this new life of being with Christ, we are set aside to be ministers, set aside to be favored by God. Our ministries may differ from person to person. It doesn’t have to be ordained or lay ministry. It is more how we are the light of Christ in the world to one another. Regardless, we are called into ministry; we are called into new birth in the waters of baptism. And God looks upon us with favor.
But then what? What does it mean for you to have God look at you with favor and be active in your life? How do you live your call in this world waiting for Christ to return? In this world that’s filled with brokenness, how do each and every one of us live out our call that God places on our hearts, especially at times that are particularly difficult? On days when we’re standing in the line at the DMV? On days when we step over a panhandler in order to get into the grocery store? On days when we’re feeling rushed to get everything done? On days where we’re not feeling favored? While we may not be told we’re going to give birth to the Son of God, how then in our call as ministers do we still be the presence of Christ in difficult moments? Moments when we’re angry, upset, and want to turn our backs and walk away from our call? How are we the presence of Christ, the bearers of Christ, especially if we’re wrestling in moments when we ask, “Really God? Really? How can this be?”
I think we have expectations of how God acts in the world. But when God acts, we can ponder, be perplexed, be terrified, and be amazed. We can especially feel these emotions when God comes to us, telling us God has found favor with us. We can sometimes feel this flood of emotions when we hear the words, “The Lord hath need of thee…” (to quote Pastor Ross when he needs someone to do something...) God is so active, that God became human, born of Mary, to live out a human experience. Living out that human experience to know our joys, our fears, our hopes, our despair, our experiences as called bearers of Christ. Jesus, born of the poor, unwed, teenaged Mary, shows how the humble are lifted, the world is turned upside down, and God comes to meet us in the most human, the most tangible way, coming to share our experience with us at our lowest places. God comes to us in the tangible waters of birth, of new and hopeful life to state that God has found favor with us and sets us apart to be ministers. God surpasses our expectations time and time again.
God found favor with Mary. God finds favor with us. How… in our flesh… in new birth… in waiting for the birth of Christ… will we respond as a minister in this time of waiting, watching, and hoping?
I leave you with the words of Lynn Ungar and part her poem, “Incarnation.”
I confess that I am caught
by the story of Christmas,
by the pronouncement of the Spirit
upon Mary’s plain flesh.
What right did the angel
have to come to her
with the news of that
unprovided, unimaginable
birth? What right
had God to take on flesh
so out of season?
The flesh has so few choices,
the angels, perhaps, none.
The trees will shake themselves
and wait for spring.
The angels, unbodied, will clutch
the night with their singing.
And Mary, like so many,
troubled and available,
will hear the word:
The power of the Most High
will overshadow you
And in her flesh, respond.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Sermon for Second Sunday of Advent
Sermon for the Second Sunday of Advent, Year B, December 4, 2011
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
My husband, Karl, and I were riding our bikes out in rural Ireland in 2004 for our honeymoon. We were going to undertake a pretty big trip by cycling up part of the western coast of Ireland. If you could have seen us on that first day; we were just giddy with excitement. We were going to start our lives together just being with each other, riding our bicycles in the idyllic Irish countryside. Never mind we’d only been married a week and a half, but marriage (and life, for that matter) is an adventure, right? Unfortunately, the first day of our bicycling adventure, after all the giddiness and excitement, did not go over so well. We both had a map that was highlighted for us by a local, but for some reason, the road we were on was not quite lining up with our map. We were supposed to turn onto another road, but the road that was on our map was nowhere to be seen. We were pedaling up and down this road, looking for this new road to materialize so we could get to our destination. But that road never showed itself.
We were lost. We were very, very lost.
We weren’t just lost anywhere. We were lost in an entirely different country, in the Irish countryside. Nothing but green fields, baa-ing sheep, and an occasional moo-ing cow. Sure, we could speak English, we had that much going for us, but that’s really not helpful when there’s not a whole lot of civilization around… we couldn’t just stop by a shop or someone’s house to ask for directions... We were in a place we had never visited before, so we didn’t have any familiar landmarks to help us get to where we were going. We didn’t know anyone. We didn’t have a cell phone with us. These were they days before affordable fancy GPS systems. All we had was a map. Karl and I were frustrated that we didn’t know where we were, and to top it all off, we were frustrated that we didn’t know quite where we were going. In our first week of marriage, this wasn’t exactly the best place to be, both physically and metaphorically. We were frustrated with our situation, but we tried really, really hard not to be frustrated with one another. We were out in the wilderness, alone and scared and wondering if we’d ever find our way out of the Irish countryside.
We did find our way back; otherwise Karl and I wouldn’t be in church today. But wandering out in the wilderness, being alone and scared, made me think of the prophet Isaiah’s words in this week’s lesson. This passage from Isaiah was written during a crazy time in Israel’s history. Israel had repeatedly turned away from their God; the prophets were trying to warn the people to turn from their selfish ways and turn back to God. The prophets stated that if the Israelites didn’t turn back to God, something bad was going to happen. That something bad was the Babylonians. The Babylonians not only conquered Jerusalem; they destroyed it. The Babylonians then carted the Israelites away from their home, marching them to Babylon. The Israelites were whisked away from a land that they loved and knew as home. The Israelites were in an awful wilderness in a foreign country being held against their will in a place they knew nothing about, in a land that wasn’t theirs. They turned away from God, and they found themselves out in the wilderness.
There’s something scary about being in the wilderness. There’s the physical wilderness, the middle of nowhere places that seem empty, desolate, and lacking life. Then there’s the theoretical wilderness in our spiritual, emotional, and psychological existence… times when we’re alone, destitute, feeling like we’ve royally screwed everything up and there’s nothing that can be done. The internal wilderness of despondency, isolation, and wondering, where, oh where, is God in the midst of all this mess? Have you been in a wilderness of doubt, of fear, or of anger wondering, “where in the heck is God in the midst of all this mess?”
God, it seems, is in the wilderness. But here’s another question: WHY is God out in the wilderness? The reading from Isaiah and the Gospel are filled with wilderness talk, and God is out in the midst of that middle-of-nowhere place.
Why the wilderness? I mean, even Judas questions the placement of proclamation in the wilderness in “Jesus Christ Superstar” when he asks Jesus, “Why'd you choose such a backwards time in such a strange land? If you'd come today you would've reached a whole nation! Israel in 4 B.C. had no mass communication…”
In the midst of being in an unknown, unfamiliar, and scary wilderness, God came to the Israelites with words of comfort. God comes to meet them many times in the wilderness… There’s the Exodus, when the Israelites are fleeing Egypt. God definitely clears a path for the Israelites out of Egypt in the dramatic parting of the Red Sea. Even in the midst of their complaining, God travels with the Israelites to the Promised Land. The Israelites turned away from God and did not heed the warnings of the prophets. The Israelites turned away from God, then were carted off to Babylonia, with Jerusalem in ruins. Yet God clears a way AGAIN for the Israelites to return to their land when they’re carted off to Babylon. Yes, the Israelites may have turned away from their God before the Babylonian exile, but GOD DID NOT ABANDON THEM EVEN THOUGH THEY SCREWED UP. God clears a way out of the wilderness for them. There’s something interesting about Isaiah’s words and the words of the Gospel… God is found in the most unexpected of places; God’s out in the wilderness. And even if God’s people have royally screwed up, God clears a way home for them.
The voice that cries out, proclaims, is God announcing the good news. We may think God’s out in the middle of nowhere. But when we think we know God, God has this nifty way of surprising God’s people time and time again. God being out in the wilderness can be thought of as weird and confusing. Sure, it seems backward and strange, lacking mass communication… But God is in the wilderness, experiencing the wilderness of human life with us. The Incarnation. This is what we’re waiting for in this Advent season; we’re waiting for God to come be with us. The amazing thing about God is that God is present in our past, in our present, and in our future. God reaching out to us in this amazing, crazy-loving way. God becoming human, to know of our lived experiences. The good, the bad, the clean, the outright messy. The Incarnation puts Christ in the middle of all of that, The feelings of anguish, of isolation, of our personal wilderness? Christ was there. Out being tempted in the wilderness. Feeling emotions of joy, anger, gladness, sorrow. And the cross. God being in the most unexpected of places, the worst kind of anguish up on that cross.
God knows our wilderness. God’s not just some entity out there, but God, CHRIST, knows our wilderness experiences because God’s been there too. And even in the middle of our wildernesses, we may have done something wrong. We may have turned away from God.
This is a time, even if we’ve committed sins, if we’ve done things we’re not proud of, that even in our broken humanness, valleys are lifted, mountains are made low, the ground becomes level, and the rough places are smoothed out. In stating, “The Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” we’re told, “Look, here’s God!” With us, among us, knowing us and our experiences! Frank Honeycutt, a pastor in South Carolina, said, “God is building a highway home for people who have screwed up their lives.” And we’ve all screwed up somewhere along the way. But God’s good news welcomes those who’ve been lost along the way. Isaiah writes that all earthly things will pass; especially with the changing of seasons, we’ve seen grass wither, flowers fade… but God’s word? God’s word is the word incarnate, Jesus Christ, who comes to be with us. To forgive us our sins. To lead us back to God. To lead us back home. It’s an announcement to people who have screwed up along the way that God welcomes each and every one of us home.
Come home.
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
My husband, Karl, and I were riding our bikes out in rural Ireland in 2004 for our honeymoon. We were going to undertake a pretty big trip by cycling up part of the western coast of Ireland. If you could have seen us on that first day; we were just giddy with excitement. We were going to start our lives together just being with each other, riding our bicycles in the idyllic Irish countryside. Never mind we’d only been married a week and a half, but marriage (and life, for that matter) is an adventure, right? Unfortunately, the first day of our bicycling adventure, after all the giddiness and excitement, did not go over so well. We both had a map that was highlighted for us by a local, but for some reason, the road we were on was not quite lining up with our map. We were supposed to turn onto another road, but the road that was on our map was nowhere to be seen. We were pedaling up and down this road, looking for this new road to materialize so we could get to our destination. But that road never showed itself.
We were lost. We were very, very lost.
We weren’t just lost anywhere. We were lost in an entirely different country, in the Irish countryside. Nothing but green fields, baa-ing sheep, and an occasional moo-ing cow. Sure, we could speak English, we had that much going for us, but that’s really not helpful when there’s not a whole lot of civilization around… we couldn’t just stop by a shop or someone’s house to ask for directions... We were in a place we had never visited before, so we didn’t have any familiar landmarks to help us get to where we were going. We didn’t know anyone. We didn’t have a cell phone with us. These were they days before affordable fancy GPS systems. All we had was a map. Karl and I were frustrated that we didn’t know where we were, and to top it all off, we were frustrated that we didn’t know quite where we were going. In our first week of marriage, this wasn’t exactly the best place to be, both physically and metaphorically. We were frustrated with our situation, but we tried really, really hard not to be frustrated with one another. We were out in the wilderness, alone and scared and wondering if we’d ever find our way out of the Irish countryside.
We did find our way back; otherwise Karl and I wouldn’t be in church today. But wandering out in the wilderness, being alone and scared, made me think of the prophet Isaiah’s words in this week’s lesson. This passage from Isaiah was written during a crazy time in Israel’s history. Israel had repeatedly turned away from their God; the prophets were trying to warn the people to turn from their selfish ways and turn back to God. The prophets stated that if the Israelites didn’t turn back to God, something bad was going to happen. That something bad was the Babylonians. The Babylonians not only conquered Jerusalem; they destroyed it. The Babylonians then carted the Israelites away from their home, marching them to Babylon. The Israelites were whisked away from a land that they loved and knew as home. The Israelites were in an awful wilderness in a foreign country being held against their will in a place they knew nothing about, in a land that wasn’t theirs. They turned away from God, and they found themselves out in the wilderness.
There’s something scary about being in the wilderness. There’s the physical wilderness, the middle of nowhere places that seem empty, desolate, and lacking life. Then there’s the theoretical wilderness in our spiritual, emotional, and psychological existence… times when we’re alone, destitute, feeling like we’ve royally screwed everything up and there’s nothing that can be done. The internal wilderness of despondency, isolation, and wondering, where, oh where, is God in the midst of all this mess? Have you been in a wilderness of doubt, of fear, or of anger wondering, “where in the heck is God in the midst of all this mess?”
God, it seems, is in the wilderness. But here’s another question: WHY is God out in the wilderness? The reading from Isaiah and the Gospel are filled with wilderness talk, and God is out in the midst of that middle-of-nowhere place.
Why the wilderness? I mean, even Judas questions the placement of proclamation in the wilderness in “Jesus Christ Superstar” when he asks Jesus, “Why'd you choose such a backwards time in such a strange land? If you'd come today you would've reached a whole nation! Israel in 4 B.C. had no mass communication…”
In the midst of being in an unknown, unfamiliar, and scary wilderness, God came to the Israelites with words of comfort. God comes to meet them many times in the wilderness… There’s the Exodus, when the Israelites are fleeing Egypt. God definitely clears a path for the Israelites out of Egypt in the dramatic parting of the Red Sea. Even in the midst of their complaining, God travels with the Israelites to the Promised Land. The Israelites turned away from God and did not heed the warnings of the prophets. The Israelites turned away from God, then were carted off to Babylonia, with Jerusalem in ruins. Yet God clears a way AGAIN for the Israelites to return to their land when they’re carted off to Babylon. Yes, the Israelites may have turned away from their God before the Babylonian exile, but GOD DID NOT ABANDON THEM EVEN THOUGH THEY SCREWED UP. God clears a way out of the wilderness for them. There’s something interesting about Isaiah’s words and the words of the Gospel… God is found in the most unexpected of places; God’s out in the wilderness. And even if God’s people have royally screwed up, God clears a way home for them.
The voice that cries out, proclaims, is God announcing the good news. We may think God’s out in the middle of nowhere. But when we think we know God, God has this nifty way of surprising God’s people time and time again. God being out in the wilderness can be thought of as weird and confusing. Sure, it seems backward and strange, lacking mass communication… But God is in the wilderness, experiencing the wilderness of human life with us. The Incarnation. This is what we’re waiting for in this Advent season; we’re waiting for God to come be with us. The amazing thing about God is that God is present in our past, in our present, and in our future. God reaching out to us in this amazing, crazy-loving way. God becoming human, to know of our lived experiences. The good, the bad, the clean, the outright messy. The Incarnation puts Christ in the middle of all of that, The feelings of anguish, of isolation, of our personal wilderness? Christ was there. Out being tempted in the wilderness. Feeling emotions of joy, anger, gladness, sorrow. And the cross. God being in the most unexpected of places, the worst kind of anguish up on that cross.
God knows our wilderness. God’s not just some entity out there, but God, CHRIST, knows our wilderness experiences because God’s been there too. And even in the middle of our wildernesses, we may have done something wrong. We may have turned away from God.
This is a time, even if we’ve committed sins, if we’ve done things we’re not proud of, that even in our broken humanness, valleys are lifted, mountains are made low, the ground becomes level, and the rough places are smoothed out. In stating, “The Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” we’re told, “Look, here’s God!” With us, among us, knowing us and our experiences! Frank Honeycutt, a pastor in South Carolina, said, “God is building a highway home for people who have screwed up their lives.” And we’ve all screwed up somewhere along the way. But God’s good news welcomes those who’ve been lost along the way. Isaiah writes that all earthly things will pass; especially with the changing of seasons, we’ve seen grass wither, flowers fade… but God’s word? God’s word is the word incarnate, Jesus Christ, who comes to be with us. To forgive us our sins. To lead us back to God. To lead us back home. It’s an announcement to people who have screwed up along the way that God welcomes each and every one of us home.
Come home.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Twin Cities, Part II
My third visit in the Twin Cities was to Luther Seminary. This was outside the scope of my original proposal, though. I had the intention of traveling around visiting Asian American pastors in the ELCA (which means my visit to the Church of All Nations was also outside the original scope of my proposal), but the nature of a proposal is that it is merely that: a plan or a suggestion put forward. And the nature of plans or suggestions is that they are able to change, morph, and evolve. I realized while wandering around the library lounge at Lutheran School of Theology Chicago that I would be visiting cities that are home to ELCA Lutheran seminaries. I started this journey out at Lutheran School of Theology in Philadelphia, getting to wander the campus and interact with some of the professors. I attended chapel in Chicago, but did not have time for a guided tour of the physical building of the seminary and to speak to professors and staff about curriculum.
Why visit a seminary at this phase of the journey? Well, why not? I'm currently a seminary student at an ELCA seminary, and I was curious as to how other ELCA seminaries speak to "multicultural ministries." The staff at Luther made sure that I had a full day, but with this full day came many questions and some frustrations with seminary education and reactions with particular individuals in the ELCA. One conversation in particular was a struggle for me. The person I spoke with would throw out general terms such as "students of color," "international students," "us," and "them." Throughout the conversation, I asked her for clarification on these terms, to which she would add, "You know what I mean?" I told her, "No, actually I don't know what you mean." With words being used as powerful symbols, I get frustrated when words get thrown around without an adequate personal definition. I remember asking, "What do you mean by 'us'? Am I a part of this 'us'? Because if you're talking about students of color not being called to a congregation based on their physical appearance, I am not a part of your 'us.'" Honestly, I was sad and frustrated that this individual has a position which greatly impacts all students at Luther. She then asked me, "Well, you have all the answers, right?"
This is where I have an issue with diversity within the ELCA. Who then is responsible for acting to make the church a diverse body representative of humanity? Is it the responsibility of people of color to bring in diversity? Or is it the responsibility of each member of the denominational church body? Who then is accountable? Will the individual-ness of each person be honored if they come to the church, or will they be forced to act in a certain manner to match up with the dominant population?
I spoke with another individual who talked about some of the multicultural components that goes into a seminary education. One of my gripes with the whole of seminary education is that I wonder if I'm learning about ministry and theology that is applicable to the parish? Are future church leaders being trained to speak about race, gender, and class issues? Are future church leaders being trained in ecumenical and interfaith dialogue? Also, what the heck is multicultural ministry? There have been different definitions flying around since I've started this journey. There is no concrete definition for a multicultural ministry. With the constraints of seminary education, there is an incredible nuance; there can be a significant difference between what one is trained to do and what one is called to do.
I spoke with one of the staff of Church of All Nations before I left the Twin Cities. It was an insightful and challenging conversation. Part of the discussion led to the question, "Can there really be a 'multicultural' ministry?" What happens if populations are segregated? What happens when one population is forced to act unlike themselves to act like the majority? Colonialism still happens in the church, yet can we love one another when people don't fully understand who they are? Ultimately, I still think to John 13:34-35, which is one of the verse I carried with me during my Clinical Pastoral Education experience. "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." Yet, what does it mean to love? What does it look like to love? I revert back to my conversation with Pastor Jin Kim when he spoke of letting go of fears into the hands of the Spirit, freeing us to love each other, giving us the ability to tell each other, "I care about you" with genuine love and compassion.
Why visit a seminary at this phase of the journey? Well, why not? I'm currently a seminary student at an ELCA seminary, and I was curious as to how other ELCA seminaries speak to "multicultural ministries." The staff at Luther made sure that I had a full day, but with this full day came many questions and some frustrations with seminary education and reactions with particular individuals in the ELCA. One conversation in particular was a struggle for me. The person I spoke with would throw out general terms such as "students of color," "international students," "us," and "them." Throughout the conversation, I asked her for clarification on these terms, to which she would add, "You know what I mean?" I told her, "No, actually I don't know what you mean." With words being used as powerful symbols, I get frustrated when words get thrown around without an adequate personal definition. I remember asking, "What do you mean by 'us'? Am I a part of this 'us'? Because if you're talking about students of color not being called to a congregation based on their physical appearance, I am not a part of your 'us.'" Honestly, I was sad and frustrated that this individual has a position which greatly impacts all students at Luther. She then asked me, "Well, you have all the answers, right?"
This is where I have an issue with diversity within the ELCA. Who then is responsible for acting to make the church a diverse body representative of humanity? Is it the responsibility of people of color to bring in diversity? Or is it the responsibility of each member of the denominational church body? Who then is accountable? Will the individual-ness of each person be honored if they come to the church, or will they be forced to act in a certain manner to match up with the dominant population?
I spoke with another individual who talked about some of the multicultural components that goes into a seminary education. One of my gripes with the whole of seminary education is that I wonder if I'm learning about ministry and theology that is applicable to the parish? Are future church leaders being trained to speak about race, gender, and class issues? Are future church leaders being trained in ecumenical and interfaith dialogue? Also, what the heck is multicultural ministry? There have been different definitions flying around since I've started this journey. There is no concrete definition for a multicultural ministry. With the constraints of seminary education, there is an incredible nuance; there can be a significant difference between what one is trained to do and what one is called to do.
I spoke with one of the staff of Church of All Nations before I left the Twin Cities. It was an insightful and challenging conversation. Part of the discussion led to the question, "Can there really be a 'multicultural' ministry?" What happens if populations are segregated? What happens when one population is forced to act unlike themselves to act like the majority? Colonialism still happens in the church, yet can we love one another when people don't fully understand who they are? Ultimately, I still think to John 13:34-35, which is one of the verse I carried with me during my Clinical Pastoral Education experience. "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you should also love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." Yet, what does it mean to love? What does it look like to love? I revert back to my conversation with Pastor Jin Kim when he spoke of letting go of fears into the hands of the Spirit, freeing us to love each other, giving us the ability to tell each other, "I care about you" with genuine love and compassion.
Catching Up and Processing.
I realize that I haven't visited this space in a couple of days. My time in Minneapolis/ St. Paul provided immense food for thought. I think I'm still processing a lot of the conversations that took place in Minnesota, because I see similar conversation threads appearing in people I'm speaking with in Los Angeles.
I had three meetings scheduled in the Twin Cities. My first meeting was with Pastor Thiem Baccam of the Lao Evangelical Lutheran Church of Robbinsdale, Minnesota. I found Pastor Baccam through the ELCA Asian American Pacific Islander Church listing. I pretty much cold called him, and he graciously agreed to be interviewed for my project. I was engrossed in Pastor Baccam's life story and ministry experience. He was raised as a Christian in Laos, but fled his home country in the mind 1970s. He and his family relocated to Iowa. While he identified as a Christian in Laos, he became Lutheran when he lived in the United States. He went on to attend college and seminary in Iowa. His ministry experience is also filled with incredible, blessed, and challenging events. He was called to lead a Laotian congregation in the Twin Cities area when he left seminary. His congregation fluctuated in size, nested with white congregations, had their own physical church building until Minneapolis seized the building for eminent domain as the church sat in an area of the city that was being redeveloped and revitalized, and making the space to minister to first and second generation Laotians. Parts of my conversation with Pastor Baccam resonate in my head. He and lay leaders within his congregation had to restructure the liturgy for worship so that worship communicates to his congregation's context. He also wrestled with having separate language services; he currently has one service which is bilingual. He stated there is challenges in such worship, as the first generation is comfortable worshiping in Laotian and the second generation is comfortable worshiping in English. Pastor Baccam has provided pastoral care to both groups, but also letting both populations know that room must be made for community to exist as a *single* community, as opposed to a community separated by language and generational differences. Pastor Baccam is highly invested in the younger people in his congregation, seeing ministry leadership traits abound in this population. He wants to grow leaders from within his church; he encourages such leadership in worship and organizing community activities. He believes that part of his ministry is to strengthen the priesthood of all believers.
Pastor Baccam's congregation has experienced numerous changes. He stated the congregation has nested in several buildings, even owning their own building at one point. Membership increases and decreases. Latinos, Blacks, and Whites are now coming to worship in his bilingual Laotian/ English services. He's wondering how to be an inclusive church, recognizing that the life of this congregation continues to change and evolve. He's partnered with the Pentecostal congregation that shares the same church building and they're having their first joint worship service on July 10th. He is also working to strengthen the relationship with the white congregation that owns the physical property of the church. They share in fellowship activities, but Pastor Baccam acknowledged that there are some cultural differences between the two communities that hamper clear communication. In speaking with Pastor Baccam, he is living in a space where he as the opportunity for creative ministries. Since I only spent time with him, I wonder what ministry within this congregation will look like in the coming months and the next few years.
My next meeting was transformational and incredible. I read about Church of All Nations in Dr. Joanne Doi's Asian American Theologies class. In Sang Hyun Lee's book, "From a Liminal Place: An Asian American Theology," he talks about the diverse population within the congregation at Church of All Nations. How can such a diverse population worship as a single community? What does the church leadership look like theologically and physically? What advice would the lead pastor (in this case, Pastor Jin Kim) have for future leaders of the church? What advice would the pastor and staff have for congregations that are wrestling with a sense of identity? I spent a couple of hours in the church staff meeting. I was intrigued by the meeting; I've sat in meetings where the church is concerned about the needs of the immediate congregation and the physical building of the church with little regard to the church catholic. I also realize this can be seen as an unfair statement because no church meeting is the same and each church has its own unique concerns. But I can speak to the church meetings I have attended (and at different congregations) and the similarity was focusing on the immediate needs of the immediately present congregation.
Part of looking at the greater church was from the pastor and one of the staff returning from a Korean caucus meeting. Changes in ordination processes (similar to the ordination of LGBT clergy within the ELCA) are coming about within the PCUSA. In Pastor Jin's keynote address to the caucus, he stated that the Holy Spirit has left the PCUSA. Pastor Jin and the staff talked about this present time being a critical period within the PCUSA's history, and also a critical period in history for the Korean church in America.
In visiting with Church of All Nations, much of the conversation with Pastor Jin focused on identity and the state of mainline Protestant traditions in the United States. I was intrigued by a list I saw on the wall titled, "Who We Are." It is a ten-point list that was created at their Board of Deacon's Retreat on May 2, 1010. Their "Top 10" can be found if you scroll down on this page. In pastoral identity, Pastor Jin spoke to me about transforming character. They have an internship program where there is not an assigned time limit; character cannot be developed within a rigid amount of time. Transforming character is something that cannot be confined to the constraints of time; it is instead carefully developed.
I was excited and challenged by my conversation with Pastor Jin and interacting with the staff at Church of All Nations. I cannot fully describe in words on this blog how I was impacted by the visit. There are so many topics in my head, particularly transformation versus deformation, fear in church communities, placing fears and apprehensions on the Holy Spirit to freely love people as they are, self-esteem, and Jesus being victimized but never playing the victim. I will probably come back to this space to communicate my experience with the people of Church of All Nations.
With all of this processing, I will use my next post to talk about my visit to Luther Seminary, my frustrations with theological education, and my journeys in the southern California area.
I had three meetings scheduled in the Twin Cities. My first meeting was with Pastor Thiem Baccam of the Lao Evangelical Lutheran Church of Robbinsdale, Minnesota. I found Pastor Baccam through the ELCA Asian American Pacific Islander Church listing. I pretty much cold called him, and he graciously agreed to be interviewed for my project. I was engrossed in Pastor Baccam's life story and ministry experience. He was raised as a Christian in Laos, but fled his home country in the mind 1970s. He and his family relocated to Iowa. While he identified as a Christian in Laos, he became Lutheran when he lived in the United States. He went on to attend college and seminary in Iowa. His ministry experience is also filled with incredible, blessed, and challenging events. He was called to lead a Laotian congregation in the Twin Cities area when he left seminary. His congregation fluctuated in size, nested with white congregations, had their own physical church building until Minneapolis seized the building for eminent domain as the church sat in an area of the city that was being redeveloped and revitalized, and making the space to minister to first and second generation Laotians. Parts of my conversation with Pastor Baccam resonate in my head. He and lay leaders within his congregation had to restructure the liturgy for worship so that worship communicates to his congregation's context. He also wrestled with having separate language services; he currently has one service which is bilingual. He stated there is challenges in such worship, as the first generation is comfortable worshiping in Laotian and the second generation is comfortable worshiping in English. Pastor Baccam has provided pastoral care to both groups, but also letting both populations know that room must be made for community to exist as a *single* community, as opposed to a community separated by language and generational differences. Pastor Baccam is highly invested in the younger people in his congregation, seeing ministry leadership traits abound in this population. He wants to grow leaders from within his church; he encourages such leadership in worship and organizing community activities. He believes that part of his ministry is to strengthen the priesthood of all believers.
Pastor Baccam's congregation has experienced numerous changes. He stated the congregation has nested in several buildings, even owning their own building at one point. Membership increases and decreases. Latinos, Blacks, and Whites are now coming to worship in his bilingual Laotian/ English services. He's wondering how to be an inclusive church, recognizing that the life of this congregation continues to change and evolve. He's partnered with the Pentecostal congregation that shares the same church building and they're having their first joint worship service on July 10th. He is also working to strengthen the relationship with the white congregation that owns the physical property of the church. They share in fellowship activities, but Pastor Baccam acknowledged that there are some cultural differences between the two communities that hamper clear communication. In speaking with Pastor Baccam, he is living in a space where he as the opportunity for creative ministries. Since I only spent time with him, I wonder what ministry within this congregation will look like in the coming months and the next few years.
My next meeting was transformational and incredible. I read about Church of All Nations in Dr. Joanne Doi's Asian American Theologies class. In Sang Hyun Lee's book, "From a Liminal Place: An Asian American Theology," he talks about the diverse population within the congregation at Church of All Nations. How can such a diverse population worship as a single community? What does the church leadership look like theologically and physically? What advice would the lead pastor (in this case, Pastor Jin Kim) have for future leaders of the church? What advice would the pastor and staff have for congregations that are wrestling with a sense of identity? I spent a couple of hours in the church staff meeting. I was intrigued by the meeting; I've sat in meetings where the church is concerned about the needs of the immediate congregation and the physical building of the church with little regard to the church catholic. I also realize this can be seen as an unfair statement because no church meeting is the same and each church has its own unique concerns. But I can speak to the church meetings I have attended (and at different congregations) and the similarity was focusing on the immediate needs of the immediately present congregation.
Part of looking at the greater church was from the pastor and one of the staff returning from a Korean caucus meeting. Changes in ordination processes (similar to the ordination of LGBT clergy within the ELCA) are coming about within the PCUSA. In Pastor Jin's keynote address to the caucus, he stated that the Holy Spirit has left the PCUSA. Pastor Jin and the staff talked about this present time being a critical period within the PCUSA's history, and also a critical period in history for the Korean church in America.
In visiting with Church of All Nations, much of the conversation with Pastor Jin focused on identity and the state of mainline Protestant traditions in the United States. I was intrigued by a list I saw on the wall titled, "Who We Are." It is a ten-point list that was created at their Board of Deacon's Retreat on May 2, 1010. Their "Top 10" can be found if you scroll down on this page. In pastoral identity, Pastor Jin spoke to me about transforming character. They have an internship program where there is not an assigned time limit; character cannot be developed within a rigid amount of time. Transforming character is something that cannot be confined to the constraints of time; it is instead carefully developed.
I was excited and challenged by my conversation with Pastor Jin and interacting with the staff at Church of All Nations. I cannot fully describe in words on this blog how I was impacted by the visit. There are so many topics in my head, particularly transformation versus deformation, fear in church communities, placing fears and apprehensions on the Holy Spirit to freely love people as they are, self-esteem, and Jesus being victimized but never playing the victim. I will probably come back to this space to communicate my experience with the people of Church of All Nations.
With all of this processing, I will use my next post to talk about my visit to Luther Seminary, my frustrations with theological education, and my journeys in the southern California area.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Sowing of seeds.
I had a wonderful last couple of days in Chicago. Friday was spent visiting Lutheran Theological Seminary Chicago and attending a chapel led by a Missionary Baptist praise team. The sermon was titled, "Desperate times call for desperate measures." The text was from Matthew 15 of the faith of the Caananite woman, desperate to heal her child. I continue to struggle with the text concerning the Caananite woman, because Jesus comes off as kind of a jerk. The preacher spoke of Jesus pulling reversals on everyone, being an expert of sorts. But the Caananite woman is the one to pull a reversal on the ruler of reversals. She does this in great desperation for her daughter, but also in great faith. The preacher spoke to how he has been marginalized in so many ways, and in his desperation, Christ comes to meet him. For just coming off a bus and walking into the seminary's chapel, this sermon was spiritual food.
How does spiritual food come about? Agriculturally, seeds need to be sown in order to grow food. I thought about the sowing of seeds my last couple of days in Chicago for many reasons. One reason was that so many people from transitional parts of my life were in Chicago that same weekend. A member of my failed master's thesis committee was in Chicago visiting friends. One of my first friends from Fuller Theological Seminary was in town for his 25th high school reunion. A fellow PLTS student was in town for meetings. And Chris Heavner was in town. My husband and I lovingly refer to Christ Heavner as PC; many of Chris's flock call him PC as well. PC is the campus pastor at Clemson University in Clemson, SC. It is through PC's conversations and patience that I became curious about Christianity. As a joke, I tell people that I became Lutheran because I went to a potluck, but I think the Spirit was working on me through PC. I met PC when I was a sophomore in college; one of my best friends invited me to a potluck at University Lutheran Church and I went because there was going to be free home-cooked food. But what came out of that potluck was a sense of koinonia and love; being in community was actually awkward for me since I was so used to worshiping with just my family. I graduated from Clemson thankful for knowing PC through campus ministry and Habitat for Humanity, not thinking much about how PC would impact my future. I worked as a consultant for a couple of years. I met Karl. Then Karl and I decided to get married. PC re-entered our lives, and in quite an interesting way. PC, Karl, and I met once a week for two years so I could ask PC anything about Christianity; PC would answer my questions to the best of his ability, and he could ask me questions about my faith journey. This was an incredible time of learning and growing for me. And it was at University Lutheran, in the midst of singing "I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry" that I experienced God's love and grace. I was actually so freaked out by the experience, I burst into tears in the middle of the hymn. And I was scared. I experienced a real God in church, but didn't know if I wanted to follow God. So I wavered. I wavered for two years, when I was finally baptized at Salem Lutheran Church in Glendale, CA, on the other side of the country from Clemson, SC.
Getting to spend time with PC in Chicago was a wonderful experience for me. It was in Chicago where PC was a seminarian and worked for the church office. It was wonderful to hear of his experiences in the city and to share my own with him. We wandered around the city talking about ministry experiences. We talked about loving people, even though it's not always easy. We talked about changes in mainline churches. We also talked about internship and community.
After such a rich experience getting to spend time with PC, I was excited to go to church on Sunday morning. I planned to attend First Evangelical Lutheran Church located in Logan Square. When I stepped off the Blue Line, I was reminded of my experiences in the neighborhood around University of Southern California. There were shop signs in Spanish, but also upscale eateries. The neighborhood looked like it was in transition. I reached the church and met Pastor Eardley Mendis (Pastor Mendis is originally from Sri Lanka). I joined in the Bible study, which was in both Spanish and English. I participated in worship, where I read the Hebrew Bible reading from Jeremiah 28:5-9 concerning true and false prophets. I was also asked to give my testimony at the end of the service. I spoke to the congregation and told them a brief version of my story and how I am currently a seminarian. I spoke to the awesomeness and mysteriousness of God's love. I joined members of the congregation for lunch. I was hoping to interview Pastor Mendis, but the realities of ministry made the interview not possible. We were hoping to speak after lunch, but the front wheel of a parishioner's bicycle went missing. The bicycle was the only means of transportation for this parishioner, and there was a search for the missing wheel. I spoke to Pastor Mendis later in the evening, and he gave the parishioner money for a new wheel.
I was very struck by the mural immediately behind the chancel space in the church. The mural was a sign that the congregation itself appeared to be in fluctuation. The mural depicted a predominantly Caucasian population, ranging from crusaders, pilgrims, and pioneers. Native Americans were placed at the bottom of the mural, not directly gazing at the congregation like the other people in the mural. Representative in the congregation, however, were Latinos, Blacks, Whites, and Asians. We knelt together at the communion rail, recognizing our common bond in brother and sisterhood in Christ. I was happy to be in church that Sunday morning.
How does spiritual food come about? Agriculturally, seeds need to be sown in order to grow food. I thought about the sowing of seeds my last couple of days in Chicago for many reasons. One reason was that so many people from transitional parts of my life were in Chicago that same weekend. A member of my failed master's thesis committee was in Chicago visiting friends. One of my first friends from Fuller Theological Seminary was in town for his 25th high school reunion. A fellow PLTS student was in town for meetings. And Chris Heavner was in town. My husband and I lovingly refer to Christ Heavner as PC; many of Chris's flock call him PC as well. PC is the campus pastor at Clemson University in Clemson, SC. It is through PC's conversations and patience that I became curious about Christianity. As a joke, I tell people that I became Lutheran because I went to a potluck, but I think the Spirit was working on me through PC. I met PC when I was a sophomore in college; one of my best friends invited me to a potluck at University Lutheran Church and I went because there was going to be free home-cooked food. But what came out of that potluck was a sense of koinonia and love; being in community was actually awkward for me since I was so used to worshiping with just my family. I graduated from Clemson thankful for knowing PC through campus ministry and Habitat for Humanity, not thinking much about how PC would impact my future. I worked as a consultant for a couple of years. I met Karl. Then Karl and I decided to get married. PC re-entered our lives, and in quite an interesting way. PC, Karl, and I met once a week for two years so I could ask PC anything about Christianity; PC would answer my questions to the best of his ability, and he could ask me questions about my faith journey. This was an incredible time of learning and growing for me. And it was at University Lutheran, in the midst of singing "I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry" that I experienced God's love and grace. I was actually so freaked out by the experience, I burst into tears in the middle of the hymn. And I was scared. I experienced a real God in church, but didn't know if I wanted to follow God. So I wavered. I wavered for two years, when I was finally baptized at Salem Lutheran Church in Glendale, CA, on the other side of the country from Clemson, SC.
Getting to spend time with PC in Chicago was a wonderful experience for me. It was in Chicago where PC was a seminarian and worked for the church office. It was wonderful to hear of his experiences in the city and to share my own with him. We wandered around the city talking about ministry experiences. We talked about loving people, even though it's not always easy. We talked about changes in mainline churches. We also talked about internship and community.
After such a rich experience getting to spend time with PC, I was excited to go to church on Sunday morning. I planned to attend First Evangelical Lutheran Church located in Logan Square. When I stepped off the Blue Line, I was reminded of my experiences in the neighborhood around University of Southern California. There were shop signs in Spanish, but also upscale eateries. The neighborhood looked like it was in transition. I reached the church and met Pastor Eardley Mendis (Pastor Mendis is originally from Sri Lanka). I joined in the Bible study, which was in both Spanish and English. I participated in worship, where I read the Hebrew Bible reading from Jeremiah 28:5-9 concerning true and false prophets. I was also asked to give my testimony at the end of the service. I spoke to the congregation and told them a brief version of my story and how I am currently a seminarian. I spoke to the awesomeness and mysteriousness of God's love. I joined members of the congregation for lunch. I was hoping to interview Pastor Mendis, but the realities of ministry made the interview not possible. We were hoping to speak after lunch, but the front wheel of a parishioner's bicycle went missing. The bicycle was the only means of transportation for this parishioner, and there was a search for the missing wheel. I spoke to Pastor Mendis later in the evening, and he gave the parishioner money for a new wheel.
I was very struck by the mural immediately behind the chancel space in the church. The mural was a sign that the congregation itself appeared to be in fluctuation. The mural depicted a predominantly Caucasian population, ranging from crusaders, pilgrims, and pioneers. Native Americans were placed at the bottom of the mural, not directly gazing at the congregation like the other people in the mural. Representative in the congregation, however, were Latinos, Blacks, Whites, and Asians. We knelt together at the communion rail, recognizing our common bond in brother and sisterhood in Christ. I was happy to be in church that Sunday morning.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Thoughts on the day.
Today I participated in a roundtable discussion at Truth Lutheran Church in Naperville, IL. This was a valuable opportunity to talk to Asian pastoral leadership in the ELCA. En route to Naperville, I had an interesting conversation with Pongsak Limthongvirtan about Multicultural Ministries in the ELCA. He had some advice for me, which was to get a PhD. I'm still struggling with this as part of my discernment process, because I'm called to serve the church, yet I still don't quite know what that looks like... is it as a pastor, or as an educator, and of course, why not a pastor/ educator? This comment also made me wonder about my future in the church. Maybe I'm over-thinking the comment, but is the PhD to prove something, and what
In speaking with the pastors and lay leaders in attendance, we spoke about pastoral identity, "Lutheran identity," hopes and expectations for the Office of Multicultural Ministries, creative ministry, and a church that is becoming increasingly marginalized.
One of the aspects of "multicultural" ministry with which I still struggle is separated services. Two pastors in attendance stated that they have a native language service, with the second generation population attending a separate English service. Truth Lutheran Church even has two separate sanctuaries and the native language service is the same time as the English language service. There is a combined service once a month. There are fellowship opportunities to bring the separate worship communities together, but what binds the communities together?
Two of the pastors also spoke of bringing not just their ethnicity to the table, but their life and ministry experiences. There was mention of segregating the Asian/ Asian American population to their own church, but at what cost? Is that representative of the body of Christ?
We also talked about definitions of "identity" and "multiculturalism." Words have such loaded meanings, especially in speaking about self and lived experience. A word as a symbol can mean entirely different things among different people. How then do we communicate when a symbol carries a multitude of meanings? How then does translation occur?
In speaking with the pastors and lay leaders in attendance, we spoke about pastoral identity, "Lutheran identity," hopes and expectations for the Office of Multicultural Ministries, creative ministry, and a church that is becoming increasingly marginalized.
One of the aspects of "multicultural" ministry with which I still struggle is separated services. Two pastors in attendance stated that they have a native language service, with the second generation population attending a separate English service. Truth Lutheran Church even has two separate sanctuaries and the native language service is the same time as the English language service. There is a combined service once a month. There are fellowship opportunities to bring the separate worship communities together, but what binds the communities together?
Two of the pastors also spoke of bringing not just their ethnicity to the table, but their life and ministry experiences. There was mention of segregating the Asian/ Asian American population to their own church, but at what cost? Is that representative of the body of Christ?
We also talked about definitions of "identity" and "multiculturalism." Words have such loaded meanings, especially in speaking about self and lived experience. A word as a symbol can mean entirely different things among different people. How then do we communicate when a symbol carries a multitude of meanings? How then does translation occur?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Think Glocally.
The past couple of days have been wonderful and interesting. Yesterday started the second part of my trips focusing on my FTE Fellowship project. I left San Francisco in the morning and arrived in Chicago in the afternoon. Once I checked into my hotel room, I hopped on the Blue Line to meet a fellow FTE Fellow, Jennifer. Jennifer, her friend, and I dined at a Puerto Rican restaurant called Borinquen where I ate my first jibarito (meat between pieces of fried plantains). The discussion over dinner was amazing. Jennifer and I talked about the similarity of our projects, and Jennifer's friend had phenomenal input on speaking of embodied experience and "languages" learned by our bodies. The conversation continued at Jennifer's apartment over dessert. It was an incredible conversation and such a sacred space. As Jennifer's friend stated, she didn't believe in accidents. Last night's conversation reminded me of words as symbols, and that such symbols have different definitions in different contexts.
Today I visited the Churchwide Office of the ELCA. I spoke with Sunitha Mortha, director of the ELCA Global Formation Program. We spoke about issues of identity as well. We spoke at length about the nebulous concept of "Lutheran identity," and how that is a highly contextual notion. What could be considered Lutheran in one location may not be considered as Lutheran in another location. We spoke a lot about shifting ideas in theological education, and paradigm shifts in not only theological education, but in ministry.
Sunitha is currently working on "Glocal Mission Gatherings," which are taking place all over the United States throughout 2010 and 2011 (click on the link to find out more about these gatherings on Facebook; the ELCA link is here). These gatherings are asking vital questions, such as "What is mission?" and "Who is the neighbor?" particularly in a world of migration and immigration. We talked about the changing world of mission work; missionary work does not have to be an exotic notion of colonizing a far-away land, but mission can happen in the pews, immediately outside the walls of the church. She is working to create spaces where people can share their feelings, thoughts, and ideas concerning ideas of modern mission. Trinity Lutheran Seminary is going to be the first seminary to host a Glocal Gathering. I think speaking of Glocal Mission is vital for future church leaders; when she told me that there was a seminary participating, I was excited that a ministry experience was being brought to future church leaders. I think Glocal experiences should not be limited to a cross-cultural requirement, but that mission work should be integral to theological education.
We also spoke on issues of diversity and responsibility. How can the church become more diverse? We talked about the continuing paradigm shifts in ministry, but we also talked about coming from a tradition of reformation. The church, in light of recent economic problems, is being forced to reform. We also talked about Martin Luther; what would happen if he walked into a present-day ELCA church? What would he say?
Meeting Sunitha and having the opportunity to speak with her was such an incredible experience which parleyed to last night's discussion with Jennifer and Jennifer's friend. This experience continues to be an incredible experience and blessing.
Today I visited the Churchwide Office of the ELCA. I spoke with Sunitha Mortha, director of the ELCA Global Formation Program. We spoke about issues of identity as well. We spoke at length about the nebulous concept of "Lutheran identity," and how that is a highly contextual notion. What could be considered Lutheran in one location may not be considered as Lutheran in another location. We spoke a lot about shifting ideas in theological education, and paradigm shifts in not only theological education, but in ministry.
Sunitha is currently working on "Glocal Mission Gatherings," which are taking place all over the United States throughout 2010 and 2011 (click on the link to find out more about these gatherings on Facebook; the ELCA link is here). These gatherings are asking vital questions, such as "What is mission?" and "Who is the neighbor?" particularly in a world of migration and immigration. We talked about the changing world of mission work; missionary work does not have to be an exotic notion of colonizing a far-away land, but mission can happen in the pews, immediately outside the walls of the church. She is working to create spaces where people can share their feelings, thoughts, and ideas concerning ideas of modern mission. Trinity Lutheran Seminary is going to be the first seminary to host a Glocal Gathering. I think speaking of Glocal Mission is vital for future church leaders; when she told me that there was a seminary participating, I was excited that a ministry experience was being brought to future church leaders. I think Glocal experiences should not be limited to a cross-cultural requirement, but that mission work should be integral to theological education.
We also spoke on issues of diversity and responsibility. How can the church become more diverse? We talked about the continuing paradigm shifts in ministry, but we also talked about coming from a tradition of reformation. The church, in light of recent economic problems, is being forced to reform. We also talked about Martin Luther; what would happen if he walked into a present-day ELCA church? What would he say?
Meeting Sunitha and having the opportunity to speak with her was such an incredible experience which parleyed to last night's discussion with Jennifer and Jennifer's friend. This experience continues to be an incredible experience and blessing.
Monday, June 20, 2011
On the Road. Again.
I leave tomorrow morning for the second leg of my travels. I will first go to Chicago, the location of the main offices for the ELCA. My time in Chicago will be incredibly busy, but I'm also looking forward to it. My first interview is with the head of Global Missions for the ELCA. She is a lay leader within the denomination, and I'll be asking her about lay leadership, and hopes and expectations for diversifying the denomination.
My second interview will be with the head of Asian American Pacific Islander ministry within the Office of Multicultural Ministries. From this second interview, I will then participate in a roundtable discussion with seven other Asian American leaders within the denomination. I hope that we'll talk about hopes and expectations for Multicultural Ministries, especially with budget cuts impacting the ELCA.
I will then travel to Minneapolis/ St. Paul, Minnesota, where I will speak to an ordained Asian American pastor. Why Minnesota? Honestly, why not? One of the reasons for selecting Minnesota is its historical ties with Lutheranism, as well as being the home for Luther Seminary, the largest ELCA seminary. Part of my visit to the Twin Cities is to see contextual education at the largest ELCA seminary and how they're training future church leaders in "multicultural ministry."
After Minneapolis/ St. Paul, I'm then headed to Los Angeles, which is the location of my home congregation and home synod. I'll be meeting with the head of Asian American Pacific Islander ministry for the Pacifica Synod. I'm also hoping to attend a bilingual church service in Arcadia (English and Chinese).
After returning home from ATSI in Philly, I've worked on simple, open-ended questions. Here they are, in no particular order. They'll be ordered by the time I make it to Chicago...
1. Who have been your role models/ mentors?
2. Can you tell me about yourself, your ministry experience, and your call process?
3. What are your hopes and expectations for Multicultural Ministries?
4. Dreaming big and without limitations, what would Multicultural Ministries do to diversify the church?
5. Define your personal sense of pastoral identity (for ordained ministers)?
6. Define your personal sense of Incarnational identity (for ordained ministers)?
7. What do you think should be the primary focus of Multicultural Ministries, particularly in light of recent ELCA budget cuts?
8. How do you define Lutheran identity in your personal context?
For those of you perusing the blog, how would you answer these questions? Feel free to leave your answers in the comments!
My second interview will be with the head of Asian American Pacific Islander ministry within the Office of Multicultural Ministries. From this second interview, I will then participate in a roundtable discussion with seven other Asian American leaders within the denomination. I hope that we'll talk about hopes and expectations for Multicultural Ministries, especially with budget cuts impacting the ELCA.
I will then travel to Minneapolis/ St. Paul, Minnesota, where I will speak to an ordained Asian American pastor. Why Minnesota? Honestly, why not? One of the reasons for selecting Minnesota is its historical ties with Lutheranism, as well as being the home for Luther Seminary, the largest ELCA seminary. Part of my visit to the Twin Cities is to see contextual education at the largest ELCA seminary and how they're training future church leaders in "multicultural ministry."
After Minneapolis/ St. Paul, I'm then headed to Los Angeles, which is the location of my home congregation and home synod. I'll be meeting with the head of Asian American Pacific Islander ministry for the Pacifica Synod. I'm also hoping to attend a bilingual church service in Arcadia (English and Chinese).
After returning home from ATSI in Philly, I've worked on simple, open-ended questions. Here they are, in no particular order. They'll be ordered by the time I make it to Chicago...
1. Who have been your role models/ mentors?
2. Can you tell me about yourself, your ministry experience, and your call process?
3. What are your hopes and expectations for Multicultural Ministries?
4. Dreaming big and without limitations, what would Multicultural Ministries do to diversify the church?
5. Define your personal sense of pastoral identity (for ordained ministers)?
6. Define your personal sense of Incarnational identity (for ordained ministers)?
7. What do you think should be the primary focus of Multicultural Ministries, particularly in light of recent ELCA budget cuts?
8. How do you define Lutheran identity in your personal context?
For those of you perusing the blog, how would you answer these questions? Feel free to leave your answers in the comments!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
A response to The Namesake for my Asian American Theologies class
The first time I read The Namesake, I finally felt like someone understood my story as living between worlds, or not quite fitting into worlds at all. I spent much of my life wandering around thinking that there wasn’t anyone that really shared in my story. When I read the book, I felt like a light switch went off in my life. Here was an author who somehow knew my story and turned it into a bestselling novel.
Reading the book years later through the lens of a seminary student, I saw new things. I very much related this reading of The Namesake to Peter Phan’s idea of "betwixt and between" (Peter C. Phan, "The Dragon and the Eagle: Toward a Vietnamese-American Theology" in Realizing the America of Our Hearts: Theological Voices of Asian Americans, 164). Living between worlds is further highlighted with the unfortunate incident of Gogol receiving his given name at the hospital. Gogol’s name amplifies his inability to fit into the country of his birth, the United States of America, as well as the inability to fit into the country of his ancestry, India. Gogol, as a teenager and young adult, laments that his name is of an ill-fated Russian writer. He claims his name sounds peculiar, and is further embarrassed when he discovers that the writer Nikolai Gogol led a tortured and conflicted life. Part of the irony is that Gogol himself is in a sense tortured and conflicted. He cannot communicate with or understand his parents; his parents are from a different land and a different culture from which Gogol is so far removed. He blames his parents for much of his young adult life concerning the awkwardness of his name; it is only later that Gogol discovers that his name has incredible significance, as the name Gogol is related to Ashoke’s second chance at life, a resurrection of sorts, to create himself as something new and to travel to a new land.
A life of betwixt and between is also reflected in Ashoke and Ashima’s relationship with each other, and their life as husband and wife in the United States. Ashima has constant thoughts of wanting to return home to Calcutta. She carries around mementos of her family and former life in India; she reads and rereads letters from her family, Bengali magazines, and Bengali books. She longs for her family to help her raise her children. Ashima and Ashoke live a life in exile from their home country. Much of Ashima’s thoughts are lamentations, missing her home country and her family. She finds substitutions within the Indian and Bengali community in the United States, but Ashima reflects that these are but mere substitutes for a reality that she once knew. She laments that she does not feel a connection with or understand her American-born children. In this life led in exile, Ashoke and Ashima do not make outrageous attempts to assimilate to the culture. They do eventually have to give Gogol a legal name, they purchase a home in a suburb, Ashoke has a professorship at a university, and accommodations are made to make by Gogol’s and Sonia’s request, such as celebrating a secular form of Christmas, and inevitably having to give in to the wishes of a five-year old Gogol to use his pet name in place of his good name.
Ultimately, in reading The Namesake through a theological lens, I continued to think of Jesus Christ as the immigrant par excellence. Gogol had no one to relate to throughout the novel. Part of the distance was through his parents’ mistakes; they were not prepared to give him a good name, and instead used a family name in place of his proper name. Gogol’s name ostracized him from everyone. When Gogol legally changed his name to Nikhil, there was still a sense of ostracism. He could not connect to his “former” identity as Gogol; ironically, using a proper Bengali name seemed to further separate him from his family prior to Ashoke’s sudden death. As Nikhil, Gogol seemed to live a different life but could not connect to his parents, his status of living between worlds and cultures, but could not connect to American culture. In reading, I think of Jesus as the mestizo and as the "Immigrant par excellence, the Marginalized One living in the both-and and beyond situation" (Phan, 174). While The Namesake does not mention religion, there is something particularly Christ-like in the character of Gogol. Gogol wanders through his life with a mixed identity of being neither Indian nor American, or being too Indian or too American; Jesus walked this earth as truly human and truly divine. Gogol is the child of immigrants trying to find his identity in a land where he doesn’t fit; Jesus is the immigrant par excellence in a world where he perfectly fits and a world he does not fit at all.
Reading the book years later through the lens of a seminary student, I saw new things. I very much related this reading of The Namesake to Peter Phan’s idea of "betwixt and between" (Peter C. Phan, "The Dragon and the Eagle: Toward a Vietnamese-American Theology" in Realizing the America of Our Hearts: Theological Voices of Asian Americans, 164). Living between worlds is further highlighted with the unfortunate incident of Gogol receiving his given name at the hospital. Gogol’s name amplifies his inability to fit into the country of his birth, the United States of America, as well as the inability to fit into the country of his ancestry, India. Gogol, as a teenager and young adult, laments that his name is of an ill-fated Russian writer. He claims his name sounds peculiar, and is further embarrassed when he discovers that the writer Nikolai Gogol led a tortured and conflicted life. Part of the irony is that Gogol himself is in a sense tortured and conflicted. He cannot communicate with or understand his parents; his parents are from a different land and a different culture from which Gogol is so far removed. He blames his parents for much of his young adult life concerning the awkwardness of his name; it is only later that Gogol discovers that his name has incredible significance, as the name Gogol is related to Ashoke’s second chance at life, a resurrection of sorts, to create himself as something new and to travel to a new land.
A life of betwixt and between is also reflected in Ashoke and Ashima’s relationship with each other, and their life as husband and wife in the United States. Ashima has constant thoughts of wanting to return home to Calcutta. She carries around mementos of her family and former life in India; she reads and rereads letters from her family, Bengali magazines, and Bengali books. She longs for her family to help her raise her children. Ashima and Ashoke live a life in exile from their home country. Much of Ashima’s thoughts are lamentations, missing her home country and her family. She finds substitutions within the Indian and Bengali community in the United States, but Ashima reflects that these are but mere substitutes for a reality that she once knew. She laments that she does not feel a connection with or understand her American-born children. In this life led in exile, Ashoke and Ashima do not make outrageous attempts to assimilate to the culture. They do eventually have to give Gogol a legal name, they purchase a home in a suburb, Ashoke has a professorship at a university, and accommodations are made to make by Gogol’s and Sonia’s request, such as celebrating a secular form of Christmas, and inevitably having to give in to the wishes of a five-year old Gogol to use his pet name in place of his good name.
Ultimately, in reading The Namesake through a theological lens, I continued to think of Jesus Christ as the immigrant par excellence. Gogol had no one to relate to throughout the novel. Part of the distance was through his parents’ mistakes; they were not prepared to give him a good name, and instead used a family name in place of his proper name. Gogol’s name ostracized him from everyone. When Gogol legally changed his name to Nikhil, there was still a sense of ostracism. He could not connect to his “former” identity as Gogol; ironically, using a proper Bengali name seemed to further separate him from his family prior to Ashoke’s sudden death. As Nikhil, Gogol seemed to live a different life but could not connect to his parents, his status of living between worlds and cultures, but could not connect to American culture. In reading, I think of Jesus as the mestizo and as the "Immigrant par excellence, the Marginalized One living in the both-and and beyond situation" (Phan, 174). While The Namesake does not mention religion, there is something particularly Christ-like in the character of Gogol. Gogol wanders through his life with a mixed identity of being neither Indian nor American, or being too Indian or too American; Jesus walked this earth as truly human and truly divine. Gogol is the child of immigrants trying to find his identity in a land where he doesn’t fit; Jesus is the immigrant par excellence in a world where he perfectly fits and a world he does not fit at all.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Day Four, Asian Theological Summer Institute
What thoughts do I have as I am sitting on an airplane, flying back to the west coast? I am honored, humbled, and blessed for the opportunity to attend the Asian Theological Summer Institute. It was fascinating to sit in a room with new and established scholars listening to the future of theological research from Asians and Asian Americans. I'm excited for the church catholic, and while theological education has entered tough times, I am waiting in eager anticipation for the future of Asian and Asian American theological scholarship.
Identity was further played with today with Dr. Eleazar Fernandez's presentation. I'm still digesting what he presented, because it was pretty darned intense. It leads me to wonder about listening to multiple narratives in a greater story, and am I listening to other narratives? What narratives am I not hearing? Yet again, questions of identity pop up...
I had an interesting conversation with one of the mentors at the conference. He asked me about the purpose of my FTE project. I told him there were a few reasons why I came to build this project. Part of this project is an opportunity for me to network within my denomination. I haven't been Lutheran all that long, and I'm still wandering about trying to find relationships with denominational leadership, particularly Asian and Asian American leadership. While I know people in northern and southern California, I want to know educators, pastors, and lay leaders. I want to know their narratives in the greater ELCA narrative.
One of my more formative classes in Spring 2011 was a systematics class in Asian American Theologies taught by Dr. Joanne Doi. In that class, I acquired a vocabulary that was more appropriate to my social location. I had read different types of liberation theology, reading books by Justo Gonzales, Gustavo Gutiérrez, James Cone, and Delores Williams, but there was something about their vocabularies that didn't quite fit my situation. There was a resonance, but at the same time, there was not a complete comprehension. It was somewhat of a disjointed connection. In Dr. Doi's class, I questioned one of the readings with a heavy reliance on Black Liberation Theology; while there were some common threads with talking about an experience, they were very different lived experiences. Dr. Doi mentioned that there is a need to look to others to start building a vocabulary, pushing and pulling with words for a comparative experience, but not the *same* experience. Then yesterday's conversation with Lucia started to hit home as well: we need to learn the voices of others to better understand our own voice. The sense of borrowing was also brought up today, which reminded me of using the words of Black Liberation Theology in my Asian American Theologies class. And of course, when it comes to borrowing, who really owns knowledge?
Part of this project is also learning about my own identity. In speaking with Dr. Rajashekar, I didn't really think about my identity in the United States until joining a church. I never thought about my sense of being until being in a greater church population. But when I joined the church, I received some odd comments that made me think about the appearance of my person. I didn't question my relationship with God in Christ, but I did start to question my relationships within a church community. I also noticed the physical appearance of my person when my husband and I visited India. It was odd realizing that I married a Caucasian man three years after our marraige.
I was wondering about what the ELCA calls "Multicultural Ministries" and how it worked. I thought of the Office of Multicultural Ministries as a nebulous cloud somewhere in the distant land of Chicago. The FTE project gave me an impetus to contact the office to make connections with the staff, but also to see what was actually going on in this ministry.
My time at ATSI was so valuable. I now have a better idea of interview questions I plan to ask my subjects in the coming weeks. While this is a formation experience for me, it's also a chance for me to interact with new people in the ELCA, talk about "Multicultural Ministries," and see four out of the eight ELCA seminaries.
This post is more like a stream of consciousness. I have pages upon pages of notes from ATSI that I need to sort through, look more in depth at the comments and questions I had concerning common threads I experienced. I need to sit and think about what I've heard and what I've experienced. I also need to continue through my personal discernment process, especially concerning theological education.
I wish all of the doctoral students blessings as they enter the writing process and look forward to hearing about their work. I also want to thank the ATSI mentors for their words of wisdom and their encouragement. It was wonderful to meet the people behind the essays and books I've read.
Identity was further played with today with Dr. Eleazar Fernandez's presentation. I'm still digesting what he presented, because it was pretty darned intense. It leads me to wonder about listening to multiple narratives in a greater story, and am I listening to other narratives? What narratives am I not hearing? Yet again, questions of identity pop up...
I had an interesting conversation with one of the mentors at the conference. He asked me about the purpose of my FTE project. I told him there were a few reasons why I came to build this project. Part of this project is an opportunity for me to network within my denomination. I haven't been Lutheran all that long, and I'm still wandering about trying to find relationships with denominational leadership, particularly Asian and Asian American leadership. While I know people in northern and southern California, I want to know educators, pastors, and lay leaders. I want to know their narratives in the greater ELCA narrative.
One of my more formative classes in Spring 2011 was a systematics class in Asian American Theologies taught by Dr. Joanne Doi. In that class, I acquired a vocabulary that was more appropriate to my social location. I had read different types of liberation theology, reading books by Justo Gonzales, Gustavo Gutiérrez, James Cone, and Delores Williams, but there was something about their vocabularies that didn't quite fit my situation. There was a resonance, but at the same time, there was not a complete comprehension. It was somewhat of a disjointed connection. In Dr. Doi's class, I questioned one of the readings with a heavy reliance on Black Liberation Theology; while there were some common threads with talking about an experience, they were very different lived experiences. Dr. Doi mentioned that there is a need to look to others to start building a vocabulary, pushing and pulling with words for a comparative experience, but not the *same* experience. Then yesterday's conversation with Lucia started to hit home as well: we need to learn the voices of others to better understand our own voice. The sense of borrowing was also brought up today, which reminded me of using the words of Black Liberation Theology in my Asian American Theologies class. And of course, when it comes to borrowing, who really owns knowledge?
Part of this project is also learning about my own identity. In speaking with Dr. Rajashekar, I didn't really think about my identity in the United States until joining a church. I never thought about my sense of being until being in a greater church population. But when I joined the church, I received some odd comments that made me think about the appearance of my person. I didn't question my relationship with God in Christ, but I did start to question my relationships within a church community. I also noticed the physical appearance of my person when my husband and I visited India. It was odd realizing that I married a Caucasian man three years after our marraige.
I was wondering about what the ELCA calls "Multicultural Ministries" and how it worked. I thought of the Office of Multicultural Ministries as a nebulous cloud somewhere in the distant land of Chicago. The FTE project gave me an impetus to contact the office to make connections with the staff, but also to see what was actually going on in this ministry.
My time at ATSI was so valuable. I now have a better idea of interview questions I plan to ask my subjects in the coming weeks. While this is a formation experience for me, it's also a chance for me to interact with new people in the ELCA, talk about "Multicultural Ministries," and see four out of the eight ELCA seminaries.
This post is more like a stream of consciousness. I have pages upon pages of notes from ATSI that I need to sort through, look more in depth at the comments and questions I had concerning common threads I experienced. I need to sit and think about what I've heard and what I've experienced. I also need to continue through my personal discernment process, especially concerning theological education.
I wish all of the doctoral students blessings as they enter the writing process and look forward to hearing about their work. I also want to thank the ATSI mentors for their words of wisdom and their encouragement. It was wonderful to meet the people behind the essays and books I've read.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Day Three, Asian Theological Summer Institute
One of the books I brought with me was One With God: Salvation as Deification and Justification. While this is not my normal fare, I'm reading it for my class on Christology, Soteriology, and Pneumatology. One of the bigger arguments according to the author is that Lutheranism totally misunderstood Luther in justification and sanctification. Luther thought the two were united, while the latter Lutherans separated the two, as evidenced in The Book of Concord. This made me seriously wonder about something I was asked my first day at Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary: "What is Lutheran identity?" I even went to the Lutheran Theological Seminary of Philadelphia's library during my lunch hour to reread Luther's "The Freedom of a Christian" to make sure that the author's argument (and that I myself) wasn't totally bonkers. I think Kärkkäinen (the author of One of God) has something vital to say to the present-day Lutheran tradition...
What did my professors mean by asking, "What is Lutheran identity?" Hasn't the denomination been around the United States for a few hundred years? Why is there yet again an obsession with identity? Yet again, in conversation with the faculty advisers of the Asian Theological Summer Institute, there is a similar obsession with Lutheran identity as there is with Asian American identity. There is a need for immigrant communities to know a sense of self in a different context. Part of the struggle with Lutheran identity is coming from a rich western European background; but how is that background then compared with the immigrant experience to a foreign land (in this case, the United States)? How does the Lutheran struggle with finding a sense of identity then relate to an Asian American sense of finding identity? Is there then potential for creativity in liminal spaces? Or are there going to be the concrete restrictions of borders of definition?
Speaking of definition concerning borders and restrictions, this then leads me to a presentation made today by Dr. Frank Yamada of McCormick Seminary. He spoke to pedagogy, and I was quite intrigued by his three questions in what he titles "The 'Culture' Exercise." I will leave you with the three questions of "The 'Culture' Exercise" and hope that you will take the time to think about these three questions:
1. What is your culture?
2. In what ways do you reflect and resist your culture?
3. How does your culture influence your reading of biblical text?
This led to interesting discussion. My discussion partner was Lucia, a Catholic sister who just successfully completed her PhD. She mentioned something insightful that I would like to leave with you. She stated that there is a need to learn about other voices in order to better understand our own voice. Somethings are starting to click, while somethings are becoming increasingly complicated.
What did my professors mean by asking, "What is Lutheran identity?" Hasn't the denomination been around the United States for a few hundred years? Why is there yet again an obsession with identity? Yet again, in conversation with the faculty advisers of the Asian Theological Summer Institute, there is a similar obsession with Lutheran identity as there is with Asian American identity. There is a need for immigrant communities to know a sense of self in a different context. Part of the struggle with Lutheran identity is coming from a rich western European background; but how is that background then compared with the immigrant experience to a foreign land (in this case, the United States)? How does the Lutheran struggle with finding a sense of identity then relate to an Asian American sense of finding identity? Is there then potential for creativity in liminal spaces? Or are there going to be the concrete restrictions of borders of definition?
Speaking of definition concerning borders and restrictions, this then leads me to a presentation made today by Dr. Frank Yamada of McCormick Seminary. He spoke to pedagogy, and I was quite intrigued by his three questions in what he titles "The 'Culture' Exercise." I will leave you with the three questions of "The 'Culture' Exercise" and hope that you will take the time to think about these three questions:
1. What is your culture?
2. In what ways do you reflect and resist your culture?
3. How does your culture influence your reading of biblical text?
This led to interesting discussion. My discussion partner was Lucia, a Catholic sister who just successfully completed her PhD. She mentioned something insightful that I would like to leave with you. She stated that there is a need to learn about other voices in order to better understand our own voice. Somethings are starting to click, while somethings are becoming increasingly complicated.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Day Two, Asian Theological Summer Institute
"Be still and know that I am God..."
I tend to forget this passage in Scripture. A lot. The students and professors of ATSI gathered early this morning for a devotion led by Dr. Kwok Pui-Lan. She had us sit still for five minutes. I forgot what it feels like to sit still for even a minute. She spoke of the "monkey mind" that wanders off, but she wanted us to be centered and focused on our breathing. And of course, my monkey mind wandered off to think about the papers I still have to write for my systematics class, but I remembered to come back, center, and breathe.
Today was pretty spectacular and thought-provoking. The morning started off with Dr. Jayakiran Sebastian's presentation on "The Baptism of Death: Reading, Rereading, and Resignifying a 19th Century Mission Document Today." It dealt with Christian missionaries coming to India with the intent to convert Brahmins, looking at the relationship between a Brahmin woman and her Christian convert husband. What is interesting about the convert's wife is that she had been erased from history; historical documentation acknowledges the convert's white, Christian wife, but history has removed the first Indian Hindu Brahmin wife. One of the big questions from Dr. Sebastian's presentation concerned unlearning present social power constructs to enter into dialogue with historical documents... and how identity has been constructed through text.
The rest of the day was filled with student proposal presentations, which was fascinating. One of the common themes I found with many (but not all) of the presentations related to a sense of identity. With much of today's doctoral proposal presentations pointing towards identity, I feel that I am on the right track in formulating my questions for my future interviews. While identity is an interesting subject, why is it so prevalent within an Asian and Asian American theological context? Why is there such a focus on identity? Why is this one of the prevalent threads appearing on the first day, from both established professors and doctoral students? In speaking with Dr. Kwok Pui-Lan, she made this fascination understandable. She stated that there is an American obsession with identity, particularly in a land populated by immigrants.
An obsession with identity. Yep, I'm there too. What is my story in the greater theological narrative? What is the story for Asian Americans within the greater narrative of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America? What happens when identity is placed upon a marginalized population? Why do those in power place such labels on the marginalized? Is the idea of belonging a sense of "be-longing" for Asian American Christians?
I tend to forget this passage in Scripture. A lot. The students and professors of ATSI gathered early this morning for a devotion led by Dr. Kwok Pui-Lan. She had us sit still for five minutes. I forgot what it feels like to sit still for even a minute. She spoke of the "monkey mind" that wanders off, but she wanted us to be centered and focused on our breathing. And of course, my monkey mind wandered off to think about the papers I still have to write for my systematics class, but I remembered to come back, center, and breathe.
Today was pretty spectacular and thought-provoking. The morning started off with Dr. Jayakiran Sebastian's presentation on "The Baptism of Death: Reading, Rereading, and Resignifying a 19th Century Mission Document Today." It dealt with Christian missionaries coming to India with the intent to convert Brahmins, looking at the relationship between a Brahmin woman and her Christian convert husband. What is interesting about the convert's wife is that she had been erased from history; historical documentation acknowledges the convert's white, Christian wife, but history has removed the first Indian Hindu Brahmin wife. One of the big questions from Dr. Sebastian's presentation concerned unlearning present social power constructs to enter into dialogue with historical documents... and how identity has been constructed through text.
The rest of the day was filled with student proposal presentations, which was fascinating. One of the common themes I found with many (but not all) of the presentations related to a sense of identity. With much of today's doctoral proposal presentations pointing towards identity, I feel that I am on the right track in formulating my questions for my future interviews. While identity is an interesting subject, why is it so prevalent within an Asian and Asian American theological context? Why is there such a focus on identity? Why is this one of the prevalent threads appearing on the first day, from both established professors and doctoral students? In speaking with Dr. Kwok Pui-Lan, she made this fascination understandable. She stated that there is an American obsession with identity, particularly in a land populated by immigrants.
An obsession with identity. Yep, I'm there too. What is my story in the greater theological narrative? What is the story for Asian Americans within the greater narrative of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America? What happens when identity is placed upon a marginalized population? Why do those in power place such labels on the marginalized? Is the idea of belonging a sense of "be-longing" for Asian American Christians?
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Day One, Asian Theological Summer Institute
"This Lutheran Life" is going to be on the road for the next few weeks. I am currently at the Asian Theological Summer Institute at Lutheran Theological Seminary Philadelphia. Let me first state that I still cannot believe that I am here. I spent the day with such incredible theologians, and getting to hear about the future of doctoral research for Asians and Asian American theologians is quite remarkable. I am not a participant, as I am not a PhD student, but I am allowed to be here as an observer. Why? I am formulating questions for the interviews I will conduct with Asian American pastors in the ELCA later in the summer. I want to ask about pastoral identity in a predominantly white denomination. I also want to ask if such a minority status impacts an interpretation of incarnational identity in any way. I also want to ask about the hopes for the ELCA's office of Multicultural Ministries. What works? What doesn't? What are the hopes of dreaming big, even if the denomination is leaner and streamlining due to current financial situations? I hope that hearing the research of Asians and Asian American doctoral students will help me hone my interview questions and give me further insight to the ELCA's Multicultural Ministries.
Today consisted primarily of introductions. The program director, Dr. Paul Rajashekar, has been an amazing host, particularly to someone attending the institute as an observer. Speaking to the future professors of theological education is also inspiring. It's both scary and exciting to see how the church will be shaped by the Spirit in the future. It's also so valuable to speak to current Asian and Asian American theologians currently working in the academy. It's amazing to find mentor scholars who have similar research interests, particularly when my interests have been limited by the demographics of my denomination.
Part of today's discussion was also talking about the cultural and colonial legacies that current Asian and Asian American scholars face today. Some academic advisors may not allow for studies in Asian American research because the advisor knows nothing about the field. Or the adivsor may think the field of Asian American theology isn't "mainstream" enough, and that research should be done on a well-established topic. As an Asian American in theology, there is difficulty in navigating the totality of identity. I cannot and do not want to change who I am, but part of who I am and how I am identified can be both a help and a hindrance, especially when that hindrance can be "tokenism."
Ultimately, what are my thoughts on this first day? I am thankful and so blessed for this opportunity. It's only day one, and I'm having such intriguing discussions concerning identity. I'm also so honored to observe this institute and to listen in on conversations concerning the future of Asian American theologies. I'm so thankful that I took Dr. Doi's Asian American Theologies class, because I'm meeting so many people; they are real flesh and blood, giving life and voice to the pages I read in a book. This is incarnational in a sense for me, the word becoming flesh. I'm meeting mentors and theologians that have impacted my early theological education.
Today consisted primarily of introductions. The program director, Dr. Paul Rajashekar, has been an amazing host, particularly to someone attending the institute as an observer. Speaking to the future professors of theological education is also inspiring. It's both scary and exciting to see how the church will be shaped by the Spirit in the future. It's also so valuable to speak to current Asian and Asian American theologians currently working in the academy. It's amazing to find mentor scholars who have similar research interests, particularly when my interests have been limited by the demographics of my denomination.
Part of today's discussion was also talking about the cultural and colonial legacies that current Asian and Asian American scholars face today. Some academic advisors may not allow for studies in Asian American research because the advisor knows nothing about the field. Or the adivsor may think the field of Asian American theology isn't "mainstream" enough, and that research should be done on a well-established topic. As an Asian American in theology, there is difficulty in navigating the totality of identity. I cannot and do not want to change who I am, but part of who I am and how I am identified can be both a help and a hindrance, especially when that hindrance can be "tokenism."
Ultimately, what are my thoughts on this first day? I am thankful and so blessed for this opportunity. It's only day one, and I'm having such intriguing discussions concerning identity. I'm also so honored to observe this institute and to listen in on conversations concerning the future of Asian American theologies. I'm so thankful that I took Dr. Doi's Asian American Theologies class, because I'm meeting so many people; they are real flesh and blood, giving life and voice to the pages I read in a book. This is incarnational in a sense for me, the word becoming flesh. I'm meeting mentors and theologians that have impacted my early theological education.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Superbowl Sunday
My five for today.
1. God finds a way to talk to me, even when I am a theological dumb butt.
2. Finishing my application essay for Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary.
3. A funny Superbowl commercial with John Elway.
4. The husband's guacamole from scratch and homemade flour tortilla chips.
5. Yet another gorgeous LA day; perfect for a walk to church and the grocery store.
1. God finds a way to talk to me, even when I am a theological dumb butt.
2. Finishing my application essay for Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary.
3. A funny Superbowl commercial with John Elway.
4. The husband's guacamole from scratch and homemade flour tortilla chips.
5. Yet another gorgeous LA day; perfect for a walk to church and the grocery store.
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