What Short-Term Missions Has To Do With Race in America

Way back when, one of my best friends shared with me a paper he wrote on the efficacy of short-term Christian missions trips.  His interest in exploring this topic was to find some middle ground between people parachuting into another culture versus having to commit many years and decades to a people group not their own.   In other words, was there a role for short-term trips (of a week to several months) that was an easier on-ramp for the majority of people but that didn’t feel so shallow and self-serving?  My friend was optimistic that such a middle ground existed, and I am inclined to believe that he is correct.

I am reminded of this dynamic as I peruse my Facebook feed and see my black and non-black friends weigh in on contemporary issues of race and class in America.  There is, understandably, a desire by my non-black friends to be supportive but it is mixed with an uncertainty about how to be supportive.  And there is, rightly so, an appreciation from my black friends for the support but a weariness about the ignorance and fatigue expressed by others who do not live the experience directly.

The privilege of the majority is the freedom to opt in and out of the plight of the minority.  So it is with race, gender, and sexual orientation issues.  It can seem irksome when some of us can choose to raise our voices when it is convenient for us and makes us look good, only to slough off the weight and pain at any moment.  But no matter how much we desire to “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes,” at the end of the day we don’t wear those shoes and never will. 

I’ll need to reconnect with my friend to get refreshed on his conclusions about short-term missions, but I recall that where he landed was at a wise place.  There should be no doubt that short-term missions trips are more for the participant than for the people she is going to; after all, there is not much that can be done of substance in a week or even several months.  But what benefit that participant should derive from the experience shouldn’t be self-serving but rather self-sacrificing and other-elevating:

·         Self-serving means going just to check a box, assuage guilt, or score glory points.

·         Self-sacrificing means absorbing the experience and being humbled by the awareness of the privilege we now know we live in.

·         Other-elevating means being newly and permanently sensitized to the plight of others different than us, so that we can continue to have that connection and help others make that connection.

It’s not a perfect analogy but I think it has some merits.  What do others think?

Non-Black Privilege

Many moons ago, I participated in Leadership Inc., a great leadership training class here in Philadelphia.  To this day I still keep in touch with some of my cohorts from that experience.  If you have a chance to do it, you should do it.

OK, commercial over.  Anyway, I remember one of the sessions was on diversity.  We did an activity that was eye-opening for me, in which men were interviewed about what it is like to be a man, non-minorities were interviewed about what it is like to not be a minority, and straight people were interviewed about what it is like to be straight.  The exercise exposed both the burden some of us face in feeling like we have to speak on behalf of an entire group of people, as well as the hidden privileges some of us face in daily life that we completely take for granted.

I am reminded of that exercise as I think about what extra instruction I need to invest in with Asher, over and above that which I am investing in with Aaron and Jada.  Unlike his big siblings, Asher will not have such luxuries as being able to be out and about in public without being hyper-vigilant about what he is wearing and how he is behaving.  There will be many more situations where Asher will stick out and therefore cannot enjoy the ease of blending in.  There will be many more times, I’m sure, where he will be asked to opine on something that he didn’t choose to be thrust as spokesperson for. 

I wish it weren’t so, but nor am I naïve that it isn’t so.  I can only hope that, by God’s grace and with the help of many, I can do my part to instruct and prepare.  Though it is a heavier burden, I take comfort that I will be forced, in a good way, to relinquish some of my own privileges or at the very least appreciate that I can enjoy them whereas Asher cannot.  It is a perspective and a vigilance that I will be the better for, I believe.

Who Could Stand

We often lament how polarizing our society has become without realizing our own contribution to that polarization.  Whether it's race, politics, or racial politics, how often have we shared something with friends or on Facebook in a spirit of "can you believe how dumb/ignorant/evil so-and-so is?"  I've written about this before, about how quickly we assume that if someone disagrees with us, it must be either they are ignorant (they don't know better) or evil (they know exactly what's going on and are willfully choosing the more heinous way), without considering that is possible to have an informed and moral position that is opposite ours.

But I'm not even talking about that today.  Let's assume for a minute that we are talking about something that is truly ignorant and evil.  Let's assume that what we are talking about is no mere quibbling over differences of opinions, but is rather something of far-reaching and severe consequences.  Let's assume that we're talking about life and death, about degradation and destruction and tragedy.

Shall we distance ourselves from such ignorance and evil, pointing fingers from our loftier position so as to let others know that we are not like that, and so as to soothe our own ego that we are better than others?  Or shall we lament the depravity of our wretched human condition, which we are not untainted by?  There are many examples in the Bible, Nehemiah and Daniel being the two that come to my mind now, of morally upright people coming before God at a time of great sin and using "we" instead of "they" (emphasis below is mine):

I prayed to the Lord my God and confessed and said, “Alas, O Lord, the great and awesome God, who keeps His covenant and lovingkindness for those who love Him and keep His commandments, we have sinned, committed iniquity, acted wickedly and rebelled, even turning aside from Your commandments and ordinances. – Daniel 9:4-5

When I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days; and I was fasting and praying before the God of heaven. I said, “I beseech You, O Lord God of heaven, the great and awesome God, who preserves the covenant and lovingkindness for those who love Him and keep His commandments, let Your ear now be attentive and Your eyes open to hear the prayer of Your servant which I am praying before You now, day and night, on behalf of the sons of Israel Your servants, confessing the sins of the sons of Israel which we have sinned against You; I and my father’s house have sinned. – Nehemiah 1:4-6

Even when we are faced with truly destructive ignorance and evil, let us be humble in our hearts in our posture before our fellow humans and before our God.  Let us acknowledge that “but for the grace of God,” or as David puts it in Psalm 130: “If You, Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?  But there is forgiveness with You, that You may be feared.”  We are all in need of such favor.  May God have mercy on us all.

What Do I Know

Having adopted Asher, Amy and I process news like the horrific Charleston shooting more closely to the heart and not just with our heads.  Asher is first and foremost our child, and our primary responsibility is to love him just as we love Jada and Aaron.  But he is also a future black man, and with that comes an extra dollop of soberness about how to raise him, what to teach him, and what he needs to know.

I know I don't know how to do this, so I will not be shy in asking for help.  But nor should I sell myself short as if I have nothing to work with in instructing our son.  What do I know?  I know something of what it is like to be stereotyped because of how I look even before I have opened my mouth or otherwise made an impression.  I know something of where racism comes from, structurally and economically and sociologically and morally.  And I know something of where true reconciliation and humanity comes from, or I should say Who it comes from.

So, by God's grace and with the help of an army of many, Amy and I will do our best to teach Asher what it means to be a black man in America.  And, if we do our jobs right, someday he will gain insight from living out his own perspective, and he will be able to teach us back. 

From the Vault: A Father's Day Sermon

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.  Here's the transcript from a Father's Day sermon I gave four years ago.

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Sermon Transcript: The Story of the Loving Father Who Bruised, Condemned, and Abandoned His Perfect Son (And Why This is Good News for Us All)

Who killed Jesus? Who killed Jesus?

This provocative question was much discussed a few years back, when Mel Gibson’s movie, “The Passion of the Christ,” was released. The movie, which is a brutally realistic portrayal of Jesus’ last days on earth, was controversial at the time because it portrayed the Jewish people as a bloodthirsty mob dead-set on executing Jesus, thus resurrecting old accusations that the Jews were responsible for the death of the Savior and Lord of the Christian religion.

Much of that debate was unnecessarily confrontational. But the original question – who killed Jesus – is a fair one to ask. So I ask you: who killed Jesus?

Do the Jewish masses bear responsibility for giving their once-popular itinerant rabbi up to be condemned? When given the chance to spare Jesus from death, they instead asked for the release of a revolutionary murder, Barabbas. What their reasons were, I cannot say I totally know: was it mob mentality, disappointment that this alleged savior wasn't taking on their Roman oppressors, or religious fervor that a mere man would claim to be divine? They played their part in ramrodding Jesus through a dubious legal proceeding.

What about Pontius Pilate? That Jesus claimed to be King of the Jews and Son of God didn't evoke any feelings in him; he seemed quite puzzled about why the Jews were all in a froth about this plain-looking carpenter. But he had his chances to do right, and instead protected his reputation (and perhaps his personal safety) by doing as the feverish mob desired.

What about the Roman soldiers who carried out this gruesome form of capital punishment? They were the ones who nailed Jesus to the cross and lifted Him up to die a very public and humiliating death. They seemed to relish the ease by which they were bullying around this alleged man of miracles. Surely they played a significant role in the death of Jesus.

People who are familiar with the gospel message will say that we all are at fault. Everyone knows that Jesus died for the sins of the world, so it was really our sins that sent Jesus to the cross. Do we in our sinfulness have Jesus' blood on our hands?

So who killed Jesus? Was it the Jews? Pontius Pilate? The Roman soldiers? Sinful humanity? All of the above? I know the answer to this question. Who killed Jesus? God did. God did. And it pleased Him.

This is the story of the loving Father who bruised, condemned, and abandoned His perfect Son, and who did it with pleasure. And it is a story that is good news – the best news – for us all.

In order to understand anything about the Christian faith, about the Christian narrative, about the Christian journey, it is necessary to sit for a minute in two great tensions.

First, God delights in His Son. And yet He takes pleasure in crushing Him and putting Him to grief.

Second, God is perfectly holy, holiness cannot co-exist with sin, and we are as a human race utterly sinful. And yet God is for us, loves us, chases us down with His goodness and mercy.

We will resolve these two tensions soon. But I want you to sit with me for a minute in these two tensions.

First, God delights in His Son, and yet He takes pleasure in crushing Him and putting Him to grief.

God delights in His Son because He sees in His Son the perfect reflection of His own perfection. Consider that when we look at our own children and see them excel in ways we once excelled, it fills us with pride and joy and happiness. How much more does God delight in His perfect Son.

Actually, three ways more. The Son is far more like the Father than our children are like ourselves. The Father is a far greater being to emulate than we are. And the areas in which the Son reflects the Father are far more worthy of taking pride in. So if our hearts swell with pleasure when we see our own children reflecting our good traits, how much more does the perfect Father delight in the perfect Son.

And yet. And yet, the relationship between the perfect Father and the perfect Son contains an episode in which the Father takes pleasure in crushing His Son and putting Him to grief. [Read Isaiah 53:10.]

Not only does this divine relationship contain this shocking episode, but it is a defining episode in the relationship. It is not subsidiary to the more important parts of the relationship, not secondary to other more crucial roles the Father and the Son play. No, it is at the core of what the Father and the Son are all about.

If you did not grow up in the church or were not inoculated by the general knowledge of the Christian faith in modern American society, you might find Christianity very, very odd, for it speaks of a perfect Father who delights in His perfect Son because that perfect Son reflects Himself perfectly, and yet that perfect Father also delights in bruising that perfect Son, bruising Him and condemning Him and abandoning Him. How does this make sense? There is tension here.

Second, God is perfectly holy, holiness cannot co-exist with sin, we are as a human race utterly sinful, and yet God is for us, loves us, chases us down with His goodness and mercy.

This one takes a little bit more explanation to get into, because we have become so casual about sin that the dissonance of God’s holiness and our sinfulness doesn’t have the same bite as it once did. But mark my words, if you came face to face with the Almighty, I don’t care how moral or upstanding or compassionate you are, you will come undone in the recognition of your sinfulness in the presence of perfect holiness.

Over and over again, we see in the Bible people having divine encounters and coming undone as they realize how incompatible their depravity is in the midst of such holiness. Recall Isaiah seeing the angels worshipping God and crying out, “woe is me, for I am ruined, because I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.” Or remember when Peter, the fisherman, goes fishing with Jesus, and Jesus helps him catch a huge catch of fish, and Peter realizes he is in the presence of more than just a really insightful teacher, he is in the presence of the divine, and he cries out in response, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

Our sinfulness is completely incompatible with God’s holiness. He cannot stand for our depravity, and we cannot stand In His holy presence.

And yet, it is the same sinful mankind that God says He loves with an everlasting love. It is the same wandering and defiant sheep for whom God says He will chase us down with His mercy and His everlasting love. How is this possible? How can a holy God love a sinful people? There is tension here.

And so here we are, sitting and perhaps squirming as we consider these two great unresolved tensions. God delights in His Son, and yet He takes pleasure in crushing Him and putting Him to grief. God is perfectly holy, holiness cannot co-exist with sin, we are as a human race utterly sinful, and yet God is for us, loves us, chases us down with His goodness and mercy.

The redemption story is like a gripping movie in which you are literally hurting to get to the end so that everything that is awry can get tied up neatly. Or a great symphony with two themes, grand but dissonant, just begging for resolution in the end. How does this all get resolved? How can this all get resolved?

The resolution is the loving Father bruising, condemning, and abandoning His perfect Son, and taking pleasure in it.

I think I speak for all parents when I say that if I had to take a child of mine and bruise, condemn, and abandon him, I would reply, “Which child are we talking about?”

Seriously though, think of how gut-wrenching this is. The Father harms the Son. [Read Isaiah 52:14.] This is hard enough. But then the Father condemns the Son. [Read Isaiah 53:4.] This would hurt me even more. And finally, the Father abandons the Son. [Read Isaiah 53:8.] This I could not do.

Why? How? Why would the Father do this to the Son He loves? And how could He take pleasure in it?

This is the climax of the redemption story. Consider what the Son is going through in this most explosive moment. He has faithfully and perfectly submitted His living to His Father, and now He is faithfully and perfectly submitting His dying to His Father.

But wait, it is even more terrible than that. Martyrs for the Christian faith have been observed experiencing the most otherworldly peace and happiness on the very brink of death. While they are suffering the ultimate loss, and have perhaps suffered great bodily and emotional harm in the run-up, they are comforted by the presence of God and the promise of seeing Him face to face very soon.

Not with the Son at the climax of the redemption story. For part of His journey is not only to suffer according to the Father’s will, and to die according to the Father’s will, but to be abandoned by the Father in the very moment of maximum anguish.

On the cross, Jesus cries out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” How lonely an end to a life lived in full submission to His Heavenly Father, to be bruised, condemned, and abandoned by that same Father.

The Son, once so popular He could hardly have a private moment, is now all alone. His closest friends have renounced Him, His rabid followers have forsaken Him. [Read Isaiah 53:3.] The sun has set by noon, so even light has deserted Him. And, as He hangs on that cross, His life is leaving Him.

But the hardest abandonment of them all is the abandonment of His loving Father. “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?”

Why indeed? Why does the loving Father, who glories in His perfect Son, bruise and condemn and abandon that very Son? And why does He take pleasure in it?

This is the climax of the redemption story. This is the resolution of those two great tensions I spoke of earlier. God is not uncaring of His Son, and He is not uncaring of the offensivness of our sin and the judgment our sin warrants. He does not compromise, and He is not painted into corner. Rather, He has made a glorious way to reconcile these two great tensions, and so God is glorified, and this brings Him great delight.

The message of the cross, of a perfect Son being bruised, condemned, and abandoned to redeem sinful man, brings pleasure to God because it simultaneously upholds three things that are supremely important to Him.

First, it upholds His glory by punishing sin commensurate to the punishment that it warrants. [Read Isaiah 53:5-6.]

Second, it upholds His delight in His Son, because by this great transaction – the perfect Son submitting to death, even to death on a cross, in order to redeem sinful and imperfect men and women – the Son assumes His rightful place in glory, that one day every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that He is Lord, to the glory (and might I add, delight) of God the Father. The bruising, condemning, and abandoning of the perfect Son by the loving Father? That is temporary. The glory that it results in? That is permanent. [Read Isaiah 52:13.]

Third, it upholds God’s great love for us without compromising His glory and holiness. [Read Isaiah 53:11-12.] Where we could not make a way back to God, He has made a way for us. And He did it not because He was boxed in, not because He softened up, not because He was convinced otherwise.

He did it in love and for pleasure. This is profoundly good news for us: the loving Father delights in the bruising, condemning, and abandoning of His perfect Son not only because it upholds the Father’s glory and holiness, not only because it honors and exalts the perfect Son, but because the Father loves us, and so the climax of the redemption story brings Him pleasure because He has made a glorious way to bring us back into right relationship with Him.

I do not claim to know why this is. It is not because we are inherently lovely; our depravity, in light of God’s holiness, eliminates that as a reason. It is not because God is somehow insecure or lonely or needy. He is perfectly satisfied in Himself and in the perfect image that His Son represents.

I do not know why God loves us. But I do know that He does. And the proof is the pleasure He takes in bruising, condemning, and abandoning His perfect Son.

God loves us. And He does with a ferocity, a tenderness, a longsuffering, a chasing down that, well, how can we not be overcome, cleansed, transformed by such a love?

In his book, “Pleasures of God: Meditations on God’s Delight in Being God,” which has been a foundational book for my spiritual journey and a repeated influence on today’s sermon, John Piper talks about the parable of the Prodigal Son, in which the son who shamed his father and left home returns, and the father, seeing his son return from afar, races out to greet him. This is what Piper writes. [Read excerpt from Piper book.]

Today is Father’s Day. It is a day we celebrate fathers. Across the country, we seek to honor and edify our fathers in a special way. We may even take a moment to contemplate fatherhood at a deeper level: our own fathering of our own kids, and our own fathers and their role in our lives. All well and good.

But I am here to tell you that every day is Father’s Day, in the sense that every day is a day in which our Heavenly Father loves you. He is perfectly holy and you are not. But He has done something so glorious that it brings Him great pleasure. He has bruised, condemned, and abandoned His perfect Son, to redeem you to Himself and into relationship with Him.

The Son in whom He delights was pierced and crushed, the iniquity of us all placed upon Him, such that at the moment of greatest anguish and sorrow, instead of divine comfort and fervent hope, He cried out, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?”

That perfect Son is now seated in glory. The two great tensions of the redemption story have been marvelously resolved. God delights in His Son, and yet He takes pleasure in crushing Him and putting Him to grief. God is perfectly holy, holiness cannot coexist with sin, and we are as a human race utterly sinful, and yet God is for us, loves us, chases us down with His goodness and mercy.

The bruising, condemning, and abandoning of the perfect Son by the loving Father has made this all possible. The tensions are resolved, and the loving Father is unimaginably delighted. His holiness is upheld, His Son is rightly honored, and His people, who He loves enough to chase down, have been successfully and irreversibly redeemed.

All that is left is for us to accept, to bask in such a love, and to multiply our delight and God’s by playing our role in telling others of such a loving Father. Amen.

"Batkid Begins" Begins

My high school friend Kurt is up to some good again.  Here's a recent message from him about where his upcoming documentary, "Batkid Begins," is playing.

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Hi Everyone,

Kurt here;  hope you're having a marvelous June.

I wanted to let y'all know that "Batkid Begins", the documentary I co-wrote, edited and sound designed last year in collaboration with my Emmy-winning director pal Dana Nachman, has been acquired by Warner Bros. and New Line Cinema, who will be releasing it in theatres starting June 26th, two weeks from today!

It opens Friday, June 26th at…

Los Angeles:  The Landmark

New York City: Angelika Film Center

San Francisco: The Landmark Embarcadero and Sundance Kabuki Theatres

Updated theatre information for all venues can be found at www.batkidbegins.com.

It will open in more cities two weeks later on Friday, July 10th -- and even more cities two weeks after that on Friday, July 24th.  How wide they open it depends an awful lot on how well it does that first weekend…so if you're in L.A., New York or San Francisco - or know people that are - we'd all truly appreciate you coming out to see it that first weekend and/or spreading the word!  If we can pack the theatres in all three cities that first weekend, hopefully this thing will be playing everywhere by the end of the summer. :)  The filmmakers' share of the proceeds is going to Make-A-Wish and other San Francisco charities.

Here's the film's trailer, which received 1.5 million views the day it was released: http://www.usatoday.com/videos/life/movies/2015/05/20/27661499/

And here's the WB/New Line poster: http://www.hitfix.com/motion-captured/exclusive-batkid-begins-poster-promises-a-big-emotional-punch

To date, the film has won 5 audience awards, the Heartland Film Truly Moving Picture Award, the Common Sense Media Seal and the Dove Foundation Seal.  It's rated PG (for some mild thematic material) and is perfect for the whole family.

I'll send a reminder the week of release;  thank you so much for all your support!!!

Happy Friday,

Kurt

www.kurtkuenne.com

www.facebook.com/kurtkuennefilmmaker

On Twitter: @KurtKuenne

Too Long for a Tweet, Too Short for a Blog Post XVIII

Here's an excerpt from a book I just finished, "I am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban," by Malala Yousafzai: 

Then they told me about the call from home and that they were taking the threats seriously. I don’t know why, but hearing I was being targeted did not worry me. It seemed to me that everyone knows they will die one day. My feeling was nobody can stop death; it doesn’t matter if it comes from a Talib or cancer. So I should do whatever I want to do. 

"Maybe we should stop our campaigning, Jani, and go into hibernation for a time,”said my father. “How can we do that?”I replied. “You were the one who said if we believe in something greater than our lives, then our voices will only multiply even if we are dead. We can’t disown our campaign!”People were asking me to speak at events. How could I refuse, saying there was a security problem? We couldn’t do that, especially not as proud Pashtuns. My father always says that heroism is in the Pashtun DNA.