New American Media put out an article about the rise of Asian Americans and suicide rates and referred to recent happenings involving three students at Caltech who committed suicide.   As I read this and people are chiming in about the influence of pressure of achievement from family and also the overall environment at the university to excel. I think that some of the scholars are missing is that suicide narratives are such a part of the cultural narrative.

As I remember so much of our histories and stories in our family has always had one or another relative who found their only way of escape was to take one’s life. It was not glorified in any sense but more of a necessary reality of our family history. As I think through the analysis of some of the psychological issues which we as a culture forgo or dismiss, I think the deeper issue of transparency or creating space so we know how to speak into our individual and collective pain.

I think that we do undergo a sense of shame or other circumstances of our cultural environment. But I think that the issue is in large part of the focus of personal achievement for the sake of the community approval. But it is the focus on the personal. On the burden of the individual to represent the whole that is so graceless and distorts our understanding of the gospel. But it is not unlike our western counterparts which also focus on the personal glory as the pinnacle of one’s existence. but when we subscribe this sense of worship of self, eventually we will find something toxic and disfunction because we are made to worship. This is an insoluble question of our existence…what or who do we worship? The reality is that this is aorist tension, of  in process or “already and not yet.” It is our theology or thinking that we work out this reality of our pain in the midst of our worship. To know that we are often found wanting in the midst of glory. But we put on the pretense that God is the very central thing or to the other extreme, our failure is the very central thing. We have a abbreviated gospel. It is either ONLY about God or ONLY about our failure. But it is the fuller view is our failure in the midst of God’s glory. To make it capable for us to enter in with  humility because we have a hope to our tragedy. That there is a wonderful narrative of salvation comes to those who are brokenhearted. To not self worship our moral conditions but rather to worship God who redeems.

Suicide is the darkest conclusion of our pursuit of self worship.

There is a sense that there is no way out because we have failed to present the gospel that invites us to the beautifully excessiveness of God grace. Especially in the Asian American culture, the religious works helps us keep our obligations to God tenable and even some of the sacrificial gestures are forms of appeasement to God. It is our moral credentials that is the measure of our success or failure that determines our discipleship but not at the work of Christ on the cross.

In varying degrees, we are so desperate for grace because of the tremendous despair of a world of ungrace. What a challenge for us to express grace. To show that all our hope is in Christ alone. So the movement is from this central place of grace and from that we can work out who we are in Christ.

As I return to filling various pulpits in the new york metro area since taking a one year sabbatical from preaching, I have gained a greater appreciation to my role in ministry and the heart that I have to this privilege of preaching.

As I have looked at this gift that I have been given to speak, it has always been an ambivalent relationship. one one hand, it is beautiful in going deep in the exegesis of the text and being able to share it with your church family but on the other hand, I think the celebrity that accompanies it is deceptive and sinfully alluring. for many preachers their sense of success comes from the quality of the reception of the sermon. in my case, i often felt that people equated my character with preaching and those are not necessarily the same. i confess that i often overshoot when i preach. i yearn for the gospel but not necessarily want to make the necessary sacrifices to follow the applications that I set out for others. so, i find myself at wits end because the culture of the church requires ministers to entertain, and be as provocative as their reality tv shows. so they want a good anecdote, a good message that is well organized, a message that is unique and witty. but if it were just that easy.

the words that are being formed around the preaching of the word are sometimes muted by the desires of the congregations and I am so afraid that i am falling into this trap. this trap of wanting so much for people to like me. to be a christian celebrity. but i am learning to speak harder with a prophetic imagination and especially with youth, i want them to go beyond “jesus loves you…” but rather “jesus is love…” and that truth should move us to a profound call to follow and to love with extravagance.

in the year, I have experienced some of the best and the worst of this profound office of preaching. As I think about the state of the pulpit i wonder if we can reform the culture of the congregation to delve to the power of the gospel to reach into the darkest depths of our shallowed faith. to show more than just the comfort of the gospel of grace but also the power of it to redeem the most uttermost hopeless situation in our lives and communities. i am praying for confidence as a relatively young preacher. searching for something more.

as i return, i have found that people (through twitters, facebook, and conversations) that they are more apt to speak about their jobs, their food preferences, their encounters with celebrities, awkward moments on their commute to work than about their daily encounter with God. to be honest, this just a source of such discouragement and cynicism for me.

i say this not out of righteousness but a yearning for community. for a desire to come along a community that their lives are shaped by the gospel call to bring redemption to all parts of the world. to have conversations about God that inspires me to holy and sacrificial. so much of my leading is compromised by following the church and its pursuit of the “dream.”

so i press forth, preach about our call as church and our role to express the hope we have and the generosity that comes from it… I need to remember and to remind others of the power of God’s saving work through Christ and how He gave the church to pronounce that to the world. as i think about this past sunday, michael oh’s sermon challenged us to think about what we have as a church and what could be possible for us as a church if we understood Christ’s sufferings.

I want to suffer for your gospel Lord. to stand before the world as a testimony that there is nothing more than i desire.

news: just returned from doing a youth workshop and moderated a panel about the Asian American Church at the New York Summer Conference where Ken Fong (evergreen baptist church) and Joseph Tsang (vision church) preached in the college & career track while Hoon Kim spoke in the youth track. As I spoke to the 100+ youth at my workshop (tsk tsk tsk for all you sneaking in), I heard their stories of burdens of religion and legality and yet also want so much more than bowling nights at church youth group but a call to a deeper discipleship.

I  am also still reflecting on the wonderful experience that may God will work through my talks at Teen Eastern Chinese Bible Conference (this is my 9th year serving with this ministry) and how much I love young people and their hope in the gospel. I pray for a church that will mentor them and love them to be who they are created to be in Christ. i pray that God will give them a heart to be mentored and to give them a stretching vision of radical discipleship that gives them a picture of Christ.

stumbled upon this on a friend’s facebook wall

The quality of mercy is not strain’d,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself,
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

-Portia
“The Merchant of Venice”

Yesterday, I went to the pediatrician for the first time with Jamie to get to know our doctor and also to just get used to the idea of bringing Nicolas there. For the last six months I have avoided it because of this poor and embarrassing confession that I am afraid of seeing my son cry. Jamie have endured it for the last several months and she has supported me in this very particular weakness of mine. But yesterday, I decided to “man up” and just go. 

As I pushed the stroller through the streets of Chinatown, Jamie and I discovered Eldridge Street was covered in lanterns and found out that they are filming “Sorcerer’s Apprentice” there. But as we got closer to the doctor’s office, I calmly told myself to not be such “weak sauce.” breathe. it is not as bad as you think. So, when we walked in, it was crowded, maybe from it being the beginning of Spring Break for the NYC kids or just a lot of sick kids. It was great to see so many Chinese grandparents caring for their grandkids, I saw a newborn crying and reminded me that Nico was that small once. There were unapologetic gazes from toddlers who looked at Nico in curiosity. It was quite a wait but Finding Nemo dubbed in Cantonese really made the time pass. Then the call came…”Nicolas…” 

As we walked in, the wonderful pediatrician greeted me and she was sweet in making comments about Nico’s hair. Oh you not happy Nicolas, is that why your hair sticking up? Our little boy was measured and checked on. We found out he has two teeth buds (to our surprise). He has some eczema and we had our conversation then it came time for the needle. Nico was just staring and enjoying his time. Jamie handed him to me and my heart started racing. I can’t watch this. 

the needle went in

and i saw Nico’s face turn red. 

a tear was forming on his eye. 

my heart broke and I started weeping. jamie comforted him by massaging his head as she cried with me. 

my throat choked up

He was soon better and he just looked at me. 

As I enter into this Good Friday. There is something that hits home about the Father’s heart as Christ cried out, “eloi eloi lama sabachtani” (Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?). as i held Nico, I knew he would get hurt and in that moment I just wanted to protect him to make sure he remains comforted in love. I experienced a pale reflection of what the Father could have expressed in that moment.

But there was so much more than my visit to the doctor.

Nico’s suffering was for his benefit but Christ suffering was for all.

Christ volunteered, Nico had no idea what was happening.Christ actively submitted to the cross.

Nico only felt the pain of a needle. Christ suffered the pain of the scourging, the crown of thorns, the nails, the weight of cross and torture of crucifixion.

Nico was in the presence of people who cared and was there to comfort him. Christ was alone. He was stripped naked before his enemies.

Nico was had no humiliation or mocking. Christ was mocked, spat on and humiliated.

Nico got a baby band aid, Christ got a grave. 

Christ surrendered his glory to be humiliated (for you, for us)

As I write this, I am filled with tears again. To know that God would go so far to express His love. To show that He is not only filled with Love but He is Love. 

On this Good Friday, I pause as a human father and wonder how can such a heavenly father show us any more than this…

“For God so loved the world, that He gave…” 

You know the rest of this…

but do you believe it? 

This is the gospel I collided with as a dad on Good Friday and I can’t stop crying to say “thank you” and my heart is filled with hope of Easter and I pray that as I walk these sidewalks of the Kingdom, I pray that each step is a prayer and each breath a litany of what is to come.

as i once accidently said to Jamie and I just before we went to bed

“God Night…I mean good night”

Today is God Friday. God Friday that is so profoundly good.

I am writing this partly because I had to do an outline for Bavinck’s “our reasonable faith” for a seminary class, and as much as I pride myself in being truant in my studies, which perplexed me because I love scripture. i love theology. but somehow the whole experience of writing this outline made me reflect on this journey towards being presbyterian and what is there tension in my heart. one of my tension has been that I find the intellectualizing of this gospel narrative to be so excruciatingly sterile to me (I know that I sound judgmental but please give me some license to share my heart). The picture that I can’t get out of my mind is when I watch csi and they are picking apart the body and looking at it with such forensic acuity but don’t take into account the corporeal aspect of this body that they are examining. who they are? what made them happy? what were their fears? who did they love or loved by? it is about solving a crime. it is to about solving a problem. to recreate a story without affection or adoration. that is what i felt when i outlined Bavinck. it was cold. it was filled with theological acuity. it brought something that is so bloody. the cross is put as a vocabulary of atonement or the fulfillment of the messianic vision of the suffering servant. so the cry on the cross becomes something to exegete and not receive the profound humanity in that moment. 

theology has been such a wonder to me. it has been a gateway of seeing the grand picture of the unfolding story of redemption that we are participating but somehow, what i am wanting is what Peter Ahn, pastor of metro community church, shared today at our PaLM meeting, that we often preach the theology of resurrection at easter sunday but we don’t recognize that good friday came before easter sunday. in the little exposure that i have been to reformed folks and also from what i see and experience  is that there is a lot of layers removed from the pain of this fallen world. god is sovereign. when people struggle to figure out how to passionately pursue god. it is futile, we are depraved. 

i have tension. and i never felt so ashamed of this affection i have for god. i question if i really know what i am in love with. as if it is infantile. as if a cloud of calvinists are scribing their theologies and guarding the intellectual property of scripture and look at me with such disgust. i suspect that i have not capture true reformed culture but i can’t shake this feeling that i am become a part of an infantry that is guarding a fort of our leader but i am not eating at the table with my lord. i am not communing but guarding. even the sacrament of communion is a theological creed. i love the creed. but they are not jesus. they are words. 

and right now. i am yearning for the the first chapter of john. the word became flesh and dwelt among us. I am putting down Bavinck for the time being…and I am going to worship…and hoping that this deep affection i have for this wonderful Jesus is not a source of an outline.

how i miss these days

It is the year of the ox and as I walked the streets of Chinatown, I watched the cleaning crew sweep up the multi-colored confetti. I watched tourist swarm around corners with their guides pointing at destinations yet to have been arrived. I walked and there is such a feeling of loss of this tradition in New York City. When I grew up, we were able to celebrate with fire crackers. for the most part, this section of the world was ours. my family and those other chinese people who shared something with each other. i remember watching with excitement as the dragon danced closer to me and I would hold my ears as the firecrackers exploded just inches from my feet. feeling exhilarated from being so close to danger. being engulfed in the sea of red collateral firecrackers. 

now, chinatown is so different. there are still dragon dances but mostly by non-Chinese youth. the firecrackers are replaces by these air pumped confetti makers, there are just as many people from Ohio as there are Chinese people, the restaurants are now filled with more people wanting General Tso’s instead of jelly fish. 

Chinatown was formed as an ethnic ghetto but when I was a child, it was a haven for me. To being able to have place where i am not “the other.” it was a place where i was reminded that i wasn’t alone. that when i saw other kids, we understood something. there was something about those unhurried Sunday’s when i entered this world. a world that i barely recognize anymore.

I came across this entry by one of my most visited blogs “unreasonable faith” and it really required me to respond on his newest entry called “how to stump an anti-abortionist with one question.” I thought it is unfortunate that for so many of us, we want to have the question that stumps instead of engage the conversation. We want to be winners of arguments instead of moving towards really engaging each other and mutually growing together. I think this is the fault of both sides…leaving both of us isolated and preaching to the converted. Here is my response that I posted:

thank you for pointing this out and in some reflection I think that the question you pose is so reasonable and affords us as a community to think through. I think that the language in the abortion debate has been unfortunate in its divisiveness. Words like murder and killing mutes the conversation to pervasive silences. I do think we have a long way for us to transform the conversation to look at the value of life include those who are unborn. what troubles me is that the women’s choice movement is not about choice but about one choice–abortion. I think that in reality it curtails choice because of the burden of having a child in our country is tremendous and instead of reframing the conversation on how can we as a society provide options for women and families to bring a child to term. I think that life in essence is filled with incredible value and we should wrestle together on this issue. But to just try to get people in these video situations to get a laugh or to point out a fallacy as an ends is narrow and mean spirited. I think that we have to take it further and think about this issue. One question in response is “how would feel if your mother had an abortion of you?” I think we often don’t think of the possibilities of an unborn is and when we ponder on this question it makes us pause that each of us have a life to be worth living and life is a miracle. Life is what God has provided for us to unveil the splendors of His creation, of our invitation to fellowship with Him and with one another. To move us from self centered worship to worship the one that prevails over the brokenness that is evident…but not without the promise of hope. Of redemption.

Lastly, I do think that as an evangelical community need to examine our true commitment to sanctity of all life. Including those who are being massacred around the world. For us to engage with issues of poverty, AIDS, and war. We often focus so much of our rhetoric around abortion but not committing ourselves to a larger pursuit of bringing value to life.

I do want to thank you for your words and your blog, it has encouraged me and made me (re)think my faith and what I believe.

I  just came across this interesting article in the Los Angeles Times about the growth of Korean Americans in the Fullerton Area. What struck me and got me thinking was the Asian American culture is often seen as one of upward mobility and a pursuance of comfort. It is not surprising why there are so many churches (according to the article, two of the largest Korean Churches in California are in Orange County) in the area to minister to them as well as food conveniences. 

But there is very little said about our connectedness to the gospel that reaches beyond the creature comforts of our lives. I write this in the comfort of a pretty nice church office, but my heart yearns for more of a discipleship that requires sacrifice. Not out of duty because it is part of our immediate transformation by the gospel. 

I come across conversations with so many Asian American Christians and what is always pressing on their minds are where to live, where to eat and where to shop. I find it hard to bring up anything else. I remember asking a person at church this Sunday, “how is your marriage?” and this person looked at me as if I asked them what is their preference for pornography. But if I asked where do you want to eat, I would get a catalog of restaurants and the choice meals. Or if I was to ask where we should live, I would get a series of answers of schools and parking rules. 

I wonder if the gospel is simply a purpose driven life to enjoy the comforts. To live out like that song “Heart of Worship” says, it’s all about God but the irony of that  song it is not about God but all about this person’s struggle. 

As I read the article I thought about perhaps it reflects a bias from the contributer in how he sees Asian American culture or it is a dangerous reality…and if it is so, does it reflect our gospel community the same way. It ends with this summary: 

As a student in 1979, Ahn lived in Garden Grove but became turned off by what he said was an unsafe area. Like many Korean Americans who first got their footing in Garden Grove, Ahn was lured to some of the more posh areas of the county.

“A lot of people did what I did. Young couples look for a job in the Garden Grove area and live there for three or four years. Then their children grow up and people are looking for bigger houses,” Ahn said. “They don’t have a choice in Garden Grove, so they move to another city like Fullerton or Irvine.”

Ahn now lives in a gated community in Anaheim Hills but still drives to Garden Grove every weekend for the grocery stores and restaurants.

 

I fighting a cold and getting out of bed with certain aches and pains. it has slowed me down and as usual, it frees me to understand that there are limits and boundaries of what I am to do. Yet, I am compelled to write and to get these thoughts on and it reminds me of the days when I wrote more when I was living in Syracuse (when demands of ministry were less and the blog world were a new and exciting way for my soul to find nourishment from the wilderness of Syracuse). 

It was a sabbatical time for me; those two years in Syracuse and I as sit in my bathrobe, with a cup of green tea, I reflect on this past year and returning to New York City has been such an enriching time. For me to reconnect and yet remember the humility of just being present in the lives of others. To hear people just wrestling through faith and finding comfort that I am not a lone doubter of this experiment of worship. 

As I write this paragraph, my little son is grunting and making “body music” my thoughts return to him and how I want words to be part of his discipleship. For me to chronicle some of my journeys for him to know that this encounter with the cross is explicitly violent and yet, it is transformed into something so glorious. That atones us. That restores us. I want him to recognize that the cross is not to be censored or sanitized but to enter into the brutality so that he can know the depth of love that comes from it. So I pray. 

I know that this blog has been an oasis of sorts for others and for some others it is just another blog among thousands/millions. But I have this corner that exposure has been somewhat assured that people are moved by it. but I write with a heaviness and responsibility that I am to maintain it. To write so that God can be reflected in this journey. I have found myself more and more regularly returning to orthodoxy and how much more I trust it. Seminary has taught me the paradigm of orthodoxy as a groundwork of engagement in a new generation who needs to understand the message of the cross. We are all born with a theology, the question is which one is it? 

I miss this place. of creating words. of jaunting through the world where people who are becoming fellow pilgrims. I have met so many good people through it and I miss the diversity, the passion and the distinct approach towards faith. I miss it but I also found refuge from it, from the constant insecurity of my blog stats, my feedback, my referrers, etc. I just want to write because my heart is full and it overflows into words. I do miss the people. from the atheist who discovered with me a gospel that is so close to being beautiful to her. to the seattle pastor who continues to stretch people towards encounter out call to those who are poor, to the asian american brother who I find we are living in parallels of having a child and going to seminary, to the teenager who thought that pro choice is really having a choice and her choosing to have her child adopted, to the young man who lost his faith in the Asian American church and found that there were places in his life that was crying out for freedom and to the one woman who lost her child to suicide who is slowly stumbling back into faith. 

this is my story unfolding and with each word, I pray that I remain in worship.