It was about four years ago when I first heard the prophetic voice of Dr. Cornel West (on NPR).  Sure, I had come across his stuff in my reading, but it wasn’t until I heard his literal voice that I actually started to really hear him.  I’ve since heard West on a number of occasions in different venues, and so I almost didn’t go to tonight’s event- especially since I knew it would be crowded at the consumer babylon that is U-Village.

What do these Cornels have in common? Not much besides Jonas' middle name... for now. Once Jonas figures out how to get more sauce in his mouth than on his face- watch out, Princeton!

But thankfully, I decided to go, and it was more than worth it.  West brought his usual brilliance: passionate in his delivery, piercing in his clarity, prophetic in his cultural analysis… but I also heard something new this evening- humility.  Maybe I just hadn’t noticed it before, or maybe it’s because the new book he’s promoting is biographical- whatever it is, I deeply appreciated this side of West.  He repeatedly referred to himself as a “broken vessel” (which could be a reference to either Psalm 31, 2 Cor. 4, or both), one who is only who he is because of those who invested in him- his family, pastor, colleagues- and he also continually emphasized that he stands in a particular tradition, and hence on the shoulders of others who have gone before.

As a self-proclaimed “aspiring bluesman in a world of ideas” or a “jazzman in the life of the mind,” West draws on the rich imagery and beautiful rhetoric of a host of voices- from James Brown and Bob Dylan to Malcolm X and Socrates.  And as a gifted public intellectual, West is able to do what so many academics cannot: translate the deep complexities of his craft into the cultural vernacular of hiphop lyrics and news headlines- and with a movement between ideas that is seamless and cohesive.

As I’m currently under the gun to get a completed rough draft of my dissertation to my committee by January 1, I’m grateful for tonight’s encounter with Dr. West.  His invitation to “find your own voice” in the quest to speak the truth in love in the age of empire will be echoing in my conscience as I continue to work through my writing.  Thanks for the encouragement, Cornel!

This weekend’s Skin Deep conference at Quest was great; lots of different thoughts and perspectives on faith & race were shared, and many challenges were issued.  And while it was good to be reminded of several of the massive demographic shifts that are changing the cultural landscape of the U.S. (and hence its religious composition as well), one statistic in particular stood out to me.  I had heard it before, but for some reason it grabbed my attention with a greater urgency this time around.  Here it is (noted in this August 2008 U.S. Census press release): by 2023, the majority of children in the U.S. will be people of color.  That is to say that within roughly 13 years, over half of the country’s population under the age of 18 will be non-white.  For some, this is cause to celebrate; but for others, there is great uncertainty and fear behind that near future.

In addition to the rapid growth in the aging adult (65+) population, this dramatic move toward multi-ethnicity is one of the most significant cultural realities on the immediate horizon in the U.S.  Dr. Soong-Chan Rah remarked that when some people hear the broader statistic that by 2042, there will be no clear ethnic majority in the U.S., they often react reflexively in favor of tightening immigration controls, restricting access to our borders, and other such protectionist policies in the hopes of mitigating this cultural shift.  But the significance of the 2023 reality is that unless we plan to either exterminate or deport millions of children, the inevitability of this ultimate change is unavoidable.  The majority of children in 2023 will (hopefully) grow up to be adults, and they will lead this momentous change.

The question then becomes: are we prepared for this markedly different cultural reality, and are we looking ahead to its inevitability so that our societal structures, political institutions, and personal worldviews can be adequately accommodating of this next generation?  It’s widely acknowledged that American society is as racially segregated now as it ever was (residentially, educationally, economically, and so on), and yet many of us carry on with business as usual as if our zeitgeist of political-correctness has solved all our previous issues of a former era.  Can I just suggest that it’s probably not a good idea to ignore these imminent cultural changes?  The ethnic tensions and inequities that divide our schools, churches, neighborhoods, cities, politics, and our society at large will not go away, no matter how “progressive” we may think we are, or how much some of us may long for whitopia.

And as usual, this is where the church has a unique challenge and a unique opportunity.  The challenge, for evangelicals in particular (Divided by Faith, anyone?), is to recognize that “getting right with Jesus” is not going to solve anything by itself.  The assertion that loving Jesus erases our cultural identities and melts us into one big happy “colorblind” family is ludicrous, as evidenced by the high levels of racial segregation among American congregations.  But there is also an opportunity: the Christian story is rife with beautiful images of reconciliation, the Christian tradition has a rich heritage of activism and advocacy that is rooted in a different vision of society, and most importantly, the path of true Christian discipleship is one that calls people into a radically alternative worldview of race, culture, and ethnicity.

Though society can (and should) work towards racial justice through legislation, top-down reforms, and a greater understanding of cooperation and equity that serves “the common good,” Christians are called to something deeper– a particular good.  The peculiar people of God are called into a curiously downward mobility, a social trajectory that embraces “the other”– not out of pity, charity, or some distortion of tokenism or colonialism, but instead out of a genuine sense of solidarity in the spirit of the incarnation.  The reality of God becoming human flesh is the fullest expression of a God who, in spite of otherness, refused to remain distant.  In the same way, Christians must also refuse the distance and fragmentation that has segregated our world.  Can the church live into this coming change with a fresh vision for (and praxis of) a particular community of multi-ethnicity that goes beyond vague notions of the common good?  It would seem that there are few challenges more urgent than this for the next generation.

I finally got around to watching this “mock-umentary” a few weeks ago, and while there were a handful of amusing moments, on the whole, I found its tone, posture, and premise to be much more ridiculous than the “religious simpletons” that Bill Maher makes into easy targets.

The fundamental mistake that Maher makes is genre.  He mixes equal parts satire, documentary, and ardent agnosticism into this film, and what comes out of this haphazard concoction is an aimless, preachy attempt at social commentary that in the end shows Bill to be the ass that he is.

Now don’t get me wrong- abrasive, irreverent comedy in a documentary style (e.g. Borat) can be effective and even hilarious, but Religulous is neither.  Instead, Maher comes across as smug and condescending, and after a while I just wanted to crush his pea-brained arguments with my own brand of religious comedy- one which shows how vacuous and culturally bankrupt his alleged agnosticism really is.

Maher and his ilk are of the evangelistic agnostic variety, one which embraces the uncertainty of religion with a false humility.  Maher claims that “not knowing” is in fact the only certitude we have, but in fact his blatant antagonism towards the slightest hint of a religious propositional construction of reality shows his true colors.

Let’s be honest, Bill: you’re a wannabe-neo-atheist in the ranks of Dawkins, Hitchens, and Harris, but in actuality you’re just a comedian and a hack who has taken his pathetic talk-show platform to new lows by badgering and editorializing simple folks with your distorted view of rational intelligence.  It must make you feel good to shoot fish in a barrel, especially since rather than appearing intellectually superior, you actually demonstrate what a propagandized simpleton you are, and maybe that’s okay since you clearly have some ego issues to work out.

Anyone can round up some crazies (of any religious or atheist variety) and mock them for their irrationality; the challenge is to do it as poorly as you have.  But thanks for the chuckles; I enjoyed them primarily at your expense.  Oh, and did I mention I downloaded a torrent of your movie illegally?  Oops.  Surely you can see the humor in that.

With the Deadly Viper controversy now in full swing (and a public statement from the authors/publisher forthcoming), I’ve been both encouraged and frustrated by the “dialogue” that is happening on numerous sites, blogs, forums, and so forth.  On one hand, if there’s anything I’ve learned from numerous encounters of the digital kind, it’s that genuine communication is very difficult through web media; it’s inherent limitations can be debilitating (not to mention all the weird posturing that happens through online anonymity).  But on the other hand, the technology exists and is certainly being used, so why not make the best of it and hope for actual exchanges that could cumulatively work towards engaging in civil discourse?

Anyway, from skimming the usual complaints and responses which have been fairly typical on this issue, here’s a list of thoughts off the top of my head:

1. Being a Christian does not give anyone a free pass to be ignorant.  Christianity does not automatically turn crap into roses; it does, however, compel us to mutual accountability and edification in the process of redeeming that crap and working towards justice.
2. Racism, racialization, and all its assorted goodies of destruction are real.  It doesn’t matter how nice you are or what good intentions you have, or how many exotic foods you’ve tried.  Nor does it matter how many people of color told you it was okay to tell those jokes.  The social construction of race is in the air we breathe, the water we drink, and certainly the corporate media culture that we consume.
3. Talking about race among Christians is essential: not because we should rub guilt in people’s faces or swing the power in the other direction, but because it is, for better or worse, an integral part of our worldview, and we must address it.  Pretending we should all be colorblind is a destructive myth that dehumanizes the diverse beauty and particularity of all human cultures.
4. As we talk about race, we have to consider power, social position, and historical context.  This conversation does not take place on a blank slate of society; quite to the contrary, race has indelibly marked the construction of the modern world, and again, being Christian cannot erase or dismiss this reality.
5. Christians who care about race have to move past appearances and fear of the politically correct.  This is not fundamentally about quotas, media stereotypes, or social perception.  It is about listening to and embracing the stories, personhood, and experiences of real people who have experienced genuine pain and suffering.
6. It’s okay to be angry about race, as long as that anger is channeled in a constructive direction.  The idea that Christians shouldn’t get angry is like suggesting that Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood is reality; if you’re not angry about something, then you’re either living in a bubble of cardigan sweaters and singing puppets, or you’re just not being honest.
7. The best way to have this conversation is not on a blog, but in person and in community with others.  A well written blog post can never do what an honest human encounter can- let’s work towards those personal engagements at every opportunity.

Speaking of which, Quest’s annual Faith and Race Depth Class is currently underway, and the upcoming Skin Deep Conference is next week.  Great local opportunities to engage.

Maybe I’ve just had a long day, or perhaps I’ve had one too many race conversations in the last week, but whatever it is, I’m really not feeling the love for Zondervan right now, and I’m especially perturbed by this ridiculous book that shamelessly exploits pseudo-Asian “kung-fu-karate-ninja-chinaman” stereotypes to push a marketing agenda- and it’s all Christian, of course!

Now in fairness to the authors (ignorant as they appear to be of the offensive nature of the book), I realize this exploitation is not intentional (oh, it hardly ever is), and that there’s surely good intentions in the content of the book.  But you know what they say about good intentions (how can this be put delicately?)- the path to hell is paved with them.

Now hear me out: I’m not reigning down some eschatological condemnation on Mike and Jud (the two white male evangelical authors)- it is just an idiom after all.  But I do take issue with both the presentation and the content of the book- because as Marshall McLuhan continues to remind us, we often cannot separate the medium and the message.

When people read (as it says on page 24 of the book) that the “short stature and native speed of the Thai people” makes them “vicious karate experts” (talk about some culture confusion), and this is combined with the “sneaky ninja” clipart, all couched in nice evangelical language, they naturally assume that each of these racially loaded stereotypes is harmless and normative.  And were it not for the fact that I actually know the difference between Thailand and Japan, maybe this wouldn’t seem like a big deal.

But the problem goes deeper than geography: this cultural insensitivity is merely symptomatic of evangelicalism’s larger issues- namely, that it is domesticated within white America’s racialized view of Christianity, which apparently has no problem with the widespread orientalisms that mischaracterize diverse Asians and Asian-Americans as either martial arts masters, chinese food delivery boys, or exotic dragon ladies.  As others have already noted, this whole thing is like the Rickshaw Rally debacle all over again.

Thankfully, Angry Asian Man and Professor Soong-Chan Rah are already all over this.  But sadly, I can already hear Zondervan’s apologetic press release: “our focus group included orientals who took no offense at the kung fu images and themes… and by the way, we like sushi and have adopted asian babies.  Therefore, we understand diversity.”

The bottom line is that you KNOW this kind of racialized exploitation wouldn’t fly with some stereotypes of other ethnic groups (you know which ones I’m talking about), so why is it okay to mock the Asians?  Because we’re affluent, assimilated, and passive?  I don’t actually know any martial arts, but if I happen to come across this book display somewhere, I’m going kung-fu crazy on its ass, right on the spot.