Roots: A Communal Journal

Before I was anything, I was yours. Fearfully, wonderfully made, or something. But I wonder sometimes if you meant me to be this a half of something, a shadow of something, a flickering image of light or wrath or... something else entirely and I wonder if I am missing that part of cruciformity that looks like the cross because I don't want to bear anything anymore I just want to be back to that something Was I radiant? Was I free? Was I loved? Was I enough? Or am I just a fool, hoping for mirrors to tell me I am more than I am, more than a severed vine, rotting, worthless more than a shameful creature, cowering in the corner of the Garden more than someone else's Something this is your body, broken for us here's my body, broken for someone but here's my body, broken for nothing sorry, I know you wanted me to be something or was it Some Thing?  Someone's Some Thing? i can't remember but this is your blood, take I have been bleeding for three weeks straight and fe...

This week was a week of victory for many. A week of relief. Of celebration. Of hope. For some of us, it was a week of reflection and contemplation. Many of us believed in an America that wasn't - a mirage of unrealized hope and unfilled promises. These past years taught us what America was, and yet, this week offered glimpses of hope. And amidst these glimpses of hope - the celebration of democracy, of America - we ask ourselves what America can be to us. In The Accidental Asian, Eric Liu, a second generation Chinese American, shares his story of identity, culture, and assimilation. He writes about his journey growing up in a suburban community, going to school in majority white settings, working at the highest levels of our country's government - and through it all, tries to understand how his identity has been shaped by each of those experiences. And on a week when we're constantly reminded of the promise of America, I ask myself whether I believe in that promise, and whe...

I am grateful to have grown under the loving care of two godly parents that shaped my imagination about God and his world.  Unfortunately, too many others like me grew up with other Christian pastors, teachers, friends, and mentors who taught that when things were going wrong in our lives or the lives of others—if life was not one moment of glory followed by another—there were two possible answers: either we were not doing all of the right things or we were not believing all the right things. A lack of faith, a misstep here or there, results in hardships and divine disfavor. Meanwhile, material blessing and convenience was a "sign" from God that we were walking in step with his purposes.   This conception of God has been showing up routinely in evangelical responses to the COVID pandemic.  Most people would call this superstition. It is certainly not the gospel. It’s ironic that for many like me, this kind of superstitious theology was not all t...

[ Photo Credit: JEFF KOWALSKY/AFP via Getty Images ] I think it is fair to say that many of these Lansing "protesters" have convinced themselves that they are the heroes of their own story. You can see it throughout their public statements—they are constitutional champions, protectors of patriotism, legends of liberty. They are, in their own stories, the difference between keeping and losing the republic. Of course, they're wrong. These "protesters" are throwing a very public temper tantrum. With their rifles and respiratory particles, they are recklessly endangering themselves, their comrades, and the brave public servants facing them nose-to-nose. And of course, they are flaunting their ever-apparent white privilege.  To be frank, this selfish and senseless superhero complex is the predictable result of how many of us white folks grow up. And if we (white people) want to confront this protest, we have to confront that reality.  Think abou...

[ The "National Memorial for Peace and Justice" located in Montgomery, AL ]   -- Note: In January, I  posted  what amounted to a public confrontation with my with experience growing up as a White American Evangelical, and more specifically, the anti-Christian, violent impulses which I believe animate much of that community's public and political behavior. It was an attempt to kick-off a series of self-examinations on how my upbringing has shaped my development, tainted my values, and affected even my most basic understandings of the Christian faith. This post is a continuation of that "confrontation" and examination--it was also my answer when I was asked recently what it means to be "white". I welcome your perspectives and insight. -- To talk about whiteness, I feel as though I have to begin with what Chanequa Walker-Barnes describes as the "great moral injury" at the heart of whiteness (see her book I Bring the Voices of My Peo...

Face masks are now ubiquitous wherever we go - you'll rarely see someone at the grocery store, post office, or other public places without one. These masks are physical barriers to protect ourselves from others' germs, and to protect others from ours. But for many Asian Americans, we've had to contend with whether we'd put on figurative masks. Many of us have held in tension whether to amplify or hide our identity - to protect ourselves not from others' germs, but from their bigotry.  First, two things are important to keep in mind. One: this isn't a story about the experience of every Asian American. It's a tension I feel myself. It may not be one that other Asian Americans feel. Two: I don't believe one group's hardship should ever diminish that of the other. Racism and racially-tinged bigotry are very different hardships from contracting COVID-19. I don't believe highlighting the hardship from discrimination should hide the fact that tho...

Last month, in an attempt to explain white evangelical support for President Trump, Brit Hume of Fox News wrote the following: " And he's willing to fight ."  I have been thinking about this tweet for weeks now. It's become a kind of magnet for many of my wayward reflections on race, politics, faith, and my own white American evangelical culture. That is, at least in part, because I believe Hume unwittingly identified the central deception which has captured the imagination of white American evangelicals: they regard their place in the wider American culture in terms of combat . It is this error which has led the vast majority of white American evangelicals to believe that the POTUS is fighting alongside them. For some time now, I have been reflecting on evangelicalism—the culture of evangelicals—and white American evangelicalism in particular. I grew up in a white evangelical home. We were homeschooled, watched Veggie Tales , attended non-denomin...

This week, a few others and I, somewhat spontaneously, started sharing with each other about our experiences with race. It was humbling and somber, yet encouraging and hopeful. Our shared experiences created a foundation for us to work with a common understanding and commitment to learning what we don't know, and responding to what we now know. For me, it was liberating - to know that I was joined by a community that not only will share with me in pain and sorrow, but to celebrate our joys and join together in hope for what can be. Most importantly, however, I was taught an important lesson about our sheer humanity. In our conversation, I was reminded by one of the group that what binds us together in our journey for justice and liberation aren't common frameworks or theories of change. Our identities are not abstractions or theories because they are the result of lived experiences. What connects us is far greater, and yet far simpler, than can be intellectualized - our s...

As I prepare to spend a week in my homeland – my formerly and currently colonized, beautifully diverse, and unfortunately battered-by-violence homeland – I reflect on my own yearlong personal and professional journey learning about place, power and people. I had the privilege of visiting several U.S. cities to learn about just, equitable places that dignify all peoples. It was a journey that revealed the pain of racialized oppression, highlighted the stark reality of systemic injustices and challenged everything I knew about how our country functioned, but ultimately, it celebrated the beauty of humanity that found joy in its fight for justice and liberation. The Lakota people at Standing Rock in North Dakota powerfully demonstrated the centrality of place. Even though they were systemically removed from their ancestral lands, and have since had access to their resources slowly stripped away, they continue to honor their past and present homelands as sacred. They ...