I had the honor of interviewing Michael Emerson at the 'Divided by Faith' 10th-anniversary conference.
Finally, by popular demand, here is video footage from the opening night of the Divided by Faith tenth anniversary conference that took place back in October at Indiana Wesleyan University. You may recall my earlier blog post about the event. Thanks much to conference coordinator Rusty Hawkins for organizing the event and making this video availabe. The first night of the conference begins with yours truly interviewing Rice University socilogist and Divided by Faith co-author Michael Emerson. (Feel free to fast-forward through my rambling and go directly to the “meat” of Dr. Emerson’s responses.)
The interview segment is followed by a panel discussion on pursuing diversity in the church that features Dr. Wayne Schmidt (Wesley Seminary at Indiana Wesleyan University), Rev. Alvin Bibbs (executive director of Multicultural Church Relations, Willow Creek Association), Dr. Curtiss DeYoung (Bethel University), and Rev. Kyle Ray (Lead Pastor, Kentwood Community Church in Michigan). Dr. Emerson and I were called back up during the concluding Q & A session.
All in all, it was a very engaging conference, with provocative and insightful presentations from a variety of Christian scholars who all share a passion for reconciliation and unity in the church. I’m so grateful to have been a part of it.
In case you hadn’t heard, Zondervan made a major announcement yesterday regarding the Deadly Viper Character Assassins book that was the source of so much anger and controversy recently. Effective immediately, Zondervan undertook the courageous step of permanently removing all the books from stores and discontinuing all related curriculum and products. Quite a bold gesture, and a remarkable example of repentance. Hopefully, the pain and high emotion of the past few weeks can now give way to true healing and reconciliation. This is a wonderful start, but it will not be easy.
The Deadly Viper website and blog were shut down today shortly after Zondervan’s announcement. This is the message that now greets its visitors.
A search for the words “Deadly Viper” on Twitter brings a variety of revealing Tweets. Very common are messages like this one: “Irritated about the whole DeadlyViper thing. irritated. really? ya had to shut them down?” And this one: “The DeadlyViper issue makes my stomach turn. I need to think about something else because I’m getting ticked off.”
There likely will be some backlash against Zondervan’s decision and against the movement of folks, led by our very brave sisters and brothers in the Asian American community, who took a firm stand against the negative stereotypes connected with the DV book and promo video. Many will view this whole episode as the epitome of political correctness and as an unfair attack on two devoted Christian brothers. We need to show patience and grace to those who don’t understand the point of this outcome.
This has especially been a difficult time for Mike Foster and Jud Wilhite, the authors of Deadly Viper. They need our prayers and compassion.
And finally, we need to remember our Asian and Asian American brothers and sisters who have been at the forefront of this conflict. I think of Soong-Chan Rah, Kathy Khang, Eugene Cho, and Ken Fong in particular, but there have been many others who have led the way through their blog posts and comments, Tweets, Facebook updates, and letters of complaint to Zondervan. These women and men have felt the strain and sadness of this epic event.
Though I supported the protest from the beginning, I admittedly was a bit concerned about the overwhelming force of the initial admonishment of the authors. I always felt that Zondervan should be the target of the strongest protest. But blog posts like this one from my dear friend Helen Lee and this one from Soong-Chan helped me understand why the Asian community needed to act so decisively. They were tired of this mess. I needed to be tired of it, too.
Thank God for this good conclusion. I think He makes His church better through conflicts like this one. Let’s pray that it becomes the start of something greater—something profoundly redemptive.
When I have some time, I’d like to explore that topic at length here. But, in the meantime, there’s a great conversation going on over at Eugene Cho’s blog on this issue. Eugene has an excellent commentary on recent events involving Joe Wilson’s heckling of the president and, just yesterday, Jimmy Carter’s suggestion that Wilson’s outburst was rooted in racism. Please check it out.
Also, check out this inspiring story at Leadership Journal‘s Out of Ur blog about how the recession is actually forcing some churches to become multiethnic.
Lively conversation happening over at The Atlantic on Ta-Nehisi Coates’s blog. His post “The Myth of Black Confederate Soldiers” reminds me of conversations I’ve had in the past with folks who attempt to downplay the role of slavery and race in the Civil War. This is always surprising to me.
I’ve told the story before about how, when I was editor of Today’s Christian, I heard it big time from Confederate sympathizers who took me to task for publishing an article about the origin of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” Silly me; I didn’t anticipate that emotions were still so raw over the outcome of the war. At the same time, I find it both revealing and truly miraculous that we can get on as fellow believers quite well (and, heck, you might even be a faithful reader of a magazine that I edit), yet we can hold fundamentally different views on issues so central to who each of us are. I think this is a testament to the unifying power of God’s love—but also to the fact that there are a lot of difficult things still left to talk about, if we ever hope to move our relationships from thin to thick. In any event, the discussion following Coates’s post offers some good food for thought.
Let the wall-to-wall Michael Jackson coverage continue. As soon as I heard the tragic news about his passing yesterday afternoon, I knew it would mean nonstop fodder for all the CNNs and WGCIs and TMZ.coms (sorry, Farrah). This will be just like Princess Di’s death, I thought. And for a brief moment, it was just as shocking and unexpected. Then, after a few minutes, the horrible truth sank in: Michael Jackson had already died many years ago. Or at least that’s how it felt.
I posted that thought on my Facebook page and was surprised to see a steady stream of friends chime in with their agreement. “Around ’92, I’d say,” wrote my college friend Christopher. “You got that right, he’s been gone for a good long time,” added Karin, another former classmate. “Yes,” continued my work colleague Bruce, “it feels like we’ve already grieved his death … as sad as the news is.”
Maybe it was around 1992. That’s when the plastic surgeries and ever-whitening skin began to morph him into something more noticeably un-real. Or perhaps it was back in the early ’70s, when, under the harsh rule of a demanding stage parent, he was not allowed to be a child, but then years later didn’t seem to understand how to be an adult, either.
By the late ’90s, the “ABC” – Off the Wall – Thriller versions of Michael Jackson were clearly notions of the distant past. I’ll never forget the day in 1997 that my wife came home from her job as a daycare worker and told me she had overheard a discussion among the 7 and 8-year-olds about Michael Jackson. After she offhandedly referred to him as an African American, the kids’ eyes widened in disbelief: “You mean Michael Jackson is black?”
Many of us used to think that Michael Jackson’s constantly changing looks were the result of his desire not to be black. The narrowed nose, straightened hair, and lightened skin all suggested a person who was attempting to escape his genetic fate. Yet, Jackson always spoke about being proud of his racial heritage. And his continued influence on the black urban and hip-hop artistic communities was immense, despite the fact that he appeared to be running away from his race.
Could it be, as Chicago Tribune columnist Clarence Page has suggested, that Jackson was not trying to escape his race so much as the image of his father that he saw in the mirror?
The truth is, despite all the controversy and dysfunction and tragedy in his life, Jackson was one of the great pop-culture reconcilers of our time. Like Joe Louis, Jackie Robinson, Nat King Cole, and Bill Cosby (as well as many others), Jackson broke down racial barriers by virtue of his talent and ability. I recall seeing white girls in 7th grade walking the halls with the Thriller album in their hands and thinking, Wow, white people like Michael Jackson too? Before that, in my limited 12 or 13 years of life, I had never seen white people so publicly claiming a black pop star as their own. But for the ’80s generation, Michael Jackson demolished the walls. Everyone, regardless of race, talked about the “Thriller” video or Jackson’s legendary performance on the Motown 25 TV special or whatever Jackson’s latest fashion statement happened to be.
Of course, we also talked about his problems and freakish behaviors later on. But my sense is that there always was more sympathy than condemnation for this man whom so many once wildly celebrated.
The outpouring of sadness and grief after the announcement of Jackson’s death yesterday proves that he still occupies a special place in our culture. Folks whom I would’ve never imagined cared about Jackson have chimed in on Facebook, Twitter, and blogs with notes of sympathy and fond memories of “the King of Pop.”
I was about 8 when Elvis died in 1977, and I remember not knowing much about who the guy was until that day. Suddenly, I received a whirlwind education on “the King” and his importance in music and pop culture. In death, Elvis Presley became real to me. I suspect it may be that way for many younger folks today as the tragic figure that Jackson became in his latter years takes a backseat to the musical legacy of one of the greatest entertainers the world has ever known.
No one knows what the condition of Jackson’s spiritual life was at the time of his death, whether or not he’d made peace with God. The assumption is he was still searching, still unfulfilled, still trying to recapture the success of his ’80s heyday while trying to escape the fallout of that same success.
Today, we fondly remember our favorite Michael Jackson songs: “I’ll Be There,” “Rock with You,” “Beat It,” “Black or White.” We celebrate the joy he brought us as an artist. But we also pray that, perhaps in his final moments of life, he was finally able to see things clearly.
Over the last week or so, I’ve been absorbed in Catherine Claire Larson’s new book, As We Forgive: Stories of Reconciliation from Rwanda. If you’re interested in a deeper understanding of what happened in Rwanda in 1994, or a deeper understanding of the miraculous process of reconciliation, I commend this great book to you.
Last month marked the 15th anniversary of the horrific Rwanda genocide, and the wounds are still apparent in the country. However, despite physical and emotional scars, something dramatic is happening among the Rwandan people. Survivors are forgiving those who killed their families. Perpetrators are truly repenting and doing practical acts of reconciliation to demonstrate their remorse, like building homes for those whose families they killed. God is moving.
In her gripping book, Larson shares seven stories about the genocide, its aftermath, and the spirit of reconciliation that is happening in a place that was once defined by inhumanity and death. What’s taking place in Rwanda today is instructive for all people, especially those of us who confess Christ. As Larson observes in my interview with her, now at UrbanFaith.com, “If forgiveness can happen in that country after such unthinkable crimes, surely it can also happen in the comparatively smaller rifts we face. In their hope, we can find hope.”
I highly recommend that you check out Catherine Larson’s compelling and well-written book, as well as the award-winning film that inspired it. Also, once again, don’t forget to read, link to, and pass along the UrbanFaith interview with Larson.
Growing up in Rockford, Illinois, back in the early ’80s I remember watching Sneak Previews on the Chicago public television station, WTTW, Channel 11. This was the very first incarnation of the movie review show that would eventually launch its hosts, film critics Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, into pop-culture superstardom. In my opinion, they are the greatest American film critics–and I don’t just say that because they’re Chicago guys, though it was cool to know they were based here.
I still have fond memories of those early Sneak Previews shows. In fact, I can remember how excited I was to see Siskel and Ebert’s reviews of what would become some of my favorite childhood movies–Superman II, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Clash of the Titans.
Sneak Previews eventually went into commercial syndication as At the Movies and finally Siskel & Ebert & the Movies. I loved those two guys together. Siskel was a Yale graduate and didn’t stomach foolishness that easily; Ebert was often the one with more populist tastes. But they both had very high standards. I loved the way they’d argue about movies. Sometimes it looked like the taller Siskel wanted to strangle his rotund partner, but then in the very next segment they would fall all over each other in agreement. I loved their passion for the movies and celebration of good art. I loved their “two thumbs up” (or “two thumbs down,” when a movie deserved it). But mostly, I loved watching their friendship evolve. Even as they bickered and mixed it up, you could tell these two guys genuinely cared for each other.
In a way, their relationship reminds me of what real reconciliation is about. The goal isn’t to always agree or pretend to get along in a superficial way. It’s about deep, passionate, and honest relationship. One where we might lay into each other sometimes, but by the end of the episode it’s clear that we love each other and that we’ll be back in the same aisle seats next week.
Gene Siskel and I were like tuning forks. Strike one, and the other would pick up the same frequency. When we were in a group together, we were always intensely aware of one another. Sometimes this took the form of camaraderie, sometimes shared opinions, sometimes hostility. But we were aware. If something happened that we both thought was funny but weren’t supposed to, God help us if one caught the other’s eye. We almost always thought the same things were funny. That may be the best sign of intellectual communion.
Gene died ten years ago on February 20, 1999. He is in my mind almost every day. I don’t want to rehearse the old stories about how we had a love/hate relationship, and how we dealt with television, and how we were both so scared the first time we went on Johnny Carson that, backstage, we couldn’t think of the name of a single movie, although that story is absolutely true. Those stories have been told. I want to write about our friendship.
From there, Ebert shares an eloquent flood of memories, both funny and sad. Even if you weren’t fans of this pair, you might want to have some tissue handy. I encourage you to read the piece and think about the depth of the friendships in your own life. And as you do, please say a prayer for Mr. Ebert.
My dear friend Gospel Gal (a.k.a. LaTonya Taylor) called my attention to a report in today’s Chicago Tribune about an effort to achieve racial reconciliation in the small town of Paris, Texas. Paris, according to the Trib, is a town that has been fraught with racial tension for years–most notably was an incident that made national headlines involving a black teenager who was sentenced to seven years in a youth prison for a minor infraction, while a white teenager who committed a more serious crime a few months earlier only received a slap on the wrist and probation.
At a four-hour meeting between white and black residents of the town on Thursday night, conciliation specialists from the U.S. Justice Department moderated a heated discussion that soon escalated into angry shouting and obstinate stares.
One quote that hit me hard came from the white judge who sentenced that black teenager to that seemingly excessive punishment:
“I think the black community in this town is suffering a great deal from poverty, broken homes, drugs,” Superville said. “Because a larger percentage of the black population is caught up in that, in their anguish they are perceiving they are the victims of discrimination. But white people are not the enemy. Poverty, illiteracy, drugs, absentee fathers—that’s the enemy. That’s not racism. That’s the breakdown of a community.”
There’s a lot of truth in his words, but as this article reveals, there are many systemic issues related to the “race” problem. I wonder how some of you out there are struck by this judge’s comment. Indeed, oftentimes the racial divide is a matter of perception, not racism.
Anyone who has been engaged in the business of real-life reconciliation understands that there must be a clearing of the air, getting all the junk out on the table, before any real progress can be made. And it sounds like these residents of Paris, Texas, are off to a solid start in that regard. Let’s just pray that they’ll be able to persevere through the screaming, the stubbornness, and the bitterness forged by years of unacknowledged pain and injustice. From the story:
“Every city should have a dialogue like this,” said Mayor Jesse James Freelen, whose town of 26,000 is 72 percent white and 22 percent black. “We didn’t like all the negative publicity about our town and we didn’t like how we got here. But if the end result is that our community grows together, then it will all have been worth it.”
If you haven’t read Linda Leigh Hargrove’s funny and thoughtful post about her recent reconciliation epiphany, please check it out. It concerns Little Bill, the gently instructive animated series from Bill Cosby that I used to watch all the time when my kids were younger. (I think one of the more bittersweet byproducts of our kids growing up is that we don’t get to watch certain TV shows anymore; I can’t tell you how much I miss VeggieTales and Blues Clues.)
In any event, I always appreciate Linda’s insight and vulnerability. For those of you who don’t know her, in addition to being a blogger she’s also an accomplished novelist. You can get info about her latest books here.
Just for the record, I’m a registered Independent. Still, party politics is enthralling stuff, and I’ve been enjoying the Democratic National Convention this week. (I’m looking forward to the GOP’s convention next week, too.)
Here in Illinois, the Democrats currently rule the day. Those of you from the Land of Lincoln (and now Obama) know that the state’s top Democrats have been bickering amongst themselves so much and for so long that hardly anything gets done. It’s actually become something of a joke—a depressing joke. That’s why I was blown away by an excellent public radio report I heard on the way home from work today. Apparently, an unexpected gesture by U.S. Congressman Jesse Jackson Jr. sparked a reconciliation hug fest among Illinois Democrats. I love stuff like that, whether it’s Democrats or Republicans. Read and listen to the story from WBEZ in Chicago here.
Over the last week or so, I’ve been absorbed in Catherine Claire Larson’s new book, 
Reconciliation Blog 