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Itamah's Blog

A petite Puerto Rican with not-so-petite thoughts

Here are some more thoughts and reactions from my previous post:

I don’t hate ethnic church planting. I just think they’re short-sighted and potentially short-lived in our context. I think it would be wise to plan for that.

If you live in a homogeneous context, then your church will reflect that. No need to bus your favorite token minority 2 hours each way every Sunday morning just so your church can “pave the way” in diversity. In the book of Acts, after Pentecost, the new believers went home– some to a specifically homogeneous context (ie: just Jews) and others to a more diverse one. I happen to be writing from the latter.

If you’re called to reach Russians outside of Boston then, by all means, preach the Gospel in Russian. Don’t hear me saying a nicer, softer version of “This is America! Speak English (one of the hardest, idiosyncratic languages to learn) NOW”. My problem comes when we use the Church to preserve culture instead of to bring news of salvation. I think this is part of the reason the church becomes inflexible, stagnant and irrelevant.

The point is this: the Church is the means to live and share the Gospel as Scripture calls us to– in community. Don’t cheapen the Gospel by using it to propel culture; but I do think one should use culture to propel the Gospel.

A few things sparked some of my recent thoughts on why I believe exclusively ethnic church starts (or planting as it is called in church circles) is short-sighted. First was an NPR piece I heard on the radio on multiculturalism. Second was a friend’s response to it. Third was an article I read about why an African American was “leaving the black church”– an article I neither bookmarked nor can find on Google. Sorry. (Although I will say that article was much more theologically based, while my thoughts are more cultural). And fourth was a lengthy conversation I had recently at a university coffee shop about ethnic mapping and church planting.

Let me just start by saying a few things:

  1. I am not disavowing my cultural heritage. I love my history, language, and Latin flavor. I will also point out I’m writing this from a 2nd generation urban Latina perspective.
  2. I grew up in and I am currently a part of a predominately Latino church. I love my church family, but it’s changing. More and more people are coming who either do not speak Spanish well or are not even Hispanic (and yes, I use the terms “Hispanic” and “Latino” interchangeably. I’m aware of the dispute of the terms, I just don’t care to go there).
  3. I am not personally putting my foot down on this issue indefinitely. If God calls me to be a part of a predominately Puerto Rican church plant, then I’ll go. But here are some of the reasons I say I won’t:

My faith and my culture should not be synonymous. This has been a problem for generations now. I can see the benefit in linking faith with culture. It provides a community or a support system to identify with. But this does an incredible disservice to the second generation who will inevitably grow up with a blended culture. Tying faith and culture together facilitates leaving the faith as we move away from our parents’ culture and into our own.

In this model, faith can now be seen as something my parents did– along with the foods they eat, the language they speak and the traditions they hold dear to. And while I embrace many of these traditions, I also eat burgers, speak English and can sing Jingle Bells along with those villancicos.

I will blend both my cultures, and thereby blend my faith, with whatever my other culture dictates. What tends to happen is that my Christian faith becomes a lovely version of tolerance, moralism, and cultural identity instead of the power of God to save… but more on that below.

New England Youth Camp Staff 2011. I'd join this "church".

For better or for worse, the world I grew up in was and is multicultural. This opened the doors to learn new cultures but has closed my generation’s eyes to legitimate threats…

North America, like most of the free world, is becoming increasingly diverse. The United States continues to be the nation of immigrants we’ve always been but one game-changer has been added to the mix. In the 20th century we openly welcomed multiculturalism. The idea of multiculturalism is generally defined as the appreciation, acceptance or promotion of multiple cultures.

Diversity is becoming a welcomed reality. But before that can happen, we need to identify a common culture and provide the means to integrate into it. This is where education is pivotally involved. Integration involves a degree of assimilation but total assimilation is not the goal. Integration requires a mutual degree of acceptance– not the blind acceptance of multiculturalism– but an analytical and critical acceptance based on common values. (Multiculturalism demands insurmountable levels of tolerance and relativism that simply cannot and should not be accepted. Some things are wrong.  Period. Going on a shooting spree is wrong. Strapping a bomb to yourself is wrong).

Now, even though I’m alluding to those “legitimate threats” as being terrorists ones because it’s a reality today, we need not go there. There are aspects of my own culture that threaten my capacity to showcase the glory and grace of God. If culturally, I am expected to aspire towards very high levels self-reliance, this can prevent me from accepting or sharing grace. I’d have the potential to become the most disciplined religious person who ever lived, but in the end, I will have accepted a gospel that glorifies self, masks sin, nullifies the cross and is powerless to save.

Heterogeneity, not homogeneity, challenges us more to genuine community. This was an interesting point in the conversation as to why we don’t seek to work with, much less live in community with, people from other cultures. Working with people of other cultures requires a lot of patience. Westerners crave efficiency over relationships. Much of the world doesn’t function this way. It’s racist to say we will not work with one another for the sake of homogeneity. It’s much safer to say we will not work with one another for the sake of efficiency. Neglecting relationship building because of its inefficiency is pretty common and, unfortunately, exclusively ethnic/homogeneous churches facilitate this mindset.

The Gospel restores the brokenness of ALL peoples and all cultures. I love the way Tim Keller puts it in his book The Reason for God:

Biblical texts such as Isaiah 60 and Revelation 21-22 depict a renewed, perfect, future world in which we retain our cultural differences (“every tongue, tribe, people, nation”). This means every human culture has (from God) distinct goods and strengths for the enrichment of the human race. As [Historian Andrew] Walls indicates, while every culture has distortions and elements that will be critiqued and revised by the Christian message, each culture will also have good and unique elements to which Christianity connects and adapts… [In short], Christianity has taken more culturally diverse forms than other faiths…”

Before the Gospel draws us together in community, it shows us who we really are: not Puerto Ricans, Italians, African Americans, Koreans, Brazilians– but sinners. Will I find it easier to identify with like-minded sinners? Yes. Unfortunately, the Gospel isn’t easy news, it’s good news. If the gospel and its commission are what fuel church planting and God is the Gospel and God is love, then the only thing that should compel our church planting is love, not ethnicity.

Do I believe there is a place for ethnic minorities to gather in gospel community? Yes, and this can be expressed in numerous ways, including church planting. But I’d recognize that culture is fleeting and ever-changing. The Church should consider this when planting in culturally rich soil.

I’ve often mentioned that I was born in the wrong decade. I absolutely love studying and reading about the civil rights’ movement of the 1950’s and 1960’s. I’ve pictured myself at sit-ins and marches, singing in churches awaiting a speech by Rev. Dr. King. (This is also why I’d love to pack up and move to South Africa as they are currently in their post-segregation generation). I am fascinated with the non-violent movement, proud of those within the Church who stepped up against injustice and deeply saddened by the forces of people who used the Christian faith to justify their own comforts and a sinful status quo.

The emotions I feel about our history are perhaps what fuel my shock about our present complacency both culturally (in our wider secular context) and within the Church. Segregation is more prevalent today than it was right before the civil rights movement. I lead a workshop of high school freshmen and they could very well attest. Their school and neighborhood are “dominated” by Hispanics while the next town over “is all white people”. They are also quick to respond that it’s different today than it was in Rosa Parks’ era of civil disobedience. When asked why, students respond that it is because it is their choice. They choose to stay in their particular town and not move to the next town over. Nobody is forced. There are no signs to determine which race or ethnicity can live where.

It’s our choice. Equality is now the law. Separation is our choice. My response was, “so we’re essentially separate… but equal”.

The kids could recognize the phrase that carries a heavy connotation to anyone who has studied the civil rights movement, but it rings true today. Here are some thoughts on our current complacency that justifies separation and blinds us to our responsibility…

Separation limits our choices. I love being Puerto Rican. I really do. We’re an odd bunch and I love it. But there are some things I do not like about my culture. It’s prideful and stupid of me to accept things of my culture that are ineffective, irrelevant or, worse, damaging (although this happens all the time). There are things about the Asian culture (as a random example) that I love and incorporate in my life. Things that are solid, sound, and biblical. If I choose to separate myself, I limit my exposure—securing ignorance, delaying growth, stunting progress and exposing disobedience. Freedom is based on a freedom to choose. Just as sin enslaves, thus giving the illusion of freedom but forcing us to live under its consequences, the sin of intentional separation gives the illusion of freedom but limits rather than liberates.

Separation erodes our understanding of one another.  I confess: I love shortcuts. I like spending less time to get to exactly where I need to go. Stereotypes often seem like shortcuts to genuine community. I’m guilty of this one all the time. I don’t need to ask her, I know she’ll say no because she’s like this… It leads me to believe that I know others when I really don’t. This essentially deceives us into believing we’ve taken a shortcut when it’s only deviated us from genuine community. This has only gotten worse through the polarization of our politics. There is no need to have a conversation with anyone who votes Democratic or Republican because, well, we already know what they will say. People become static; a caricature, even.

I don’t want to go into the dangers of caricatures, stereotypes, segregation and hate but instead speak with the Church. I do see a direct link between willing separation and facilitating stereotypes, even subtle ones. And while I like groups with similar interests in background because of the support they can often provide, I’m bothered when these are more common than (or even replace) our explicit efforts of integration.

So what, then, shall we do? We, the Church, need to lead efforts of explicit integration by incorporating diversity not only in policies but in preaching, teaching, mission statements, and outreach. Encourage conversation with like and unlike-minded people. Remind each other that Jesus ate with known liberal types and sat down with conservative judges and was willing to compromise his reputation with some without compromising his character.

We often watch television, look at our bi-racial president and believe Jim Crow is dead when he’s quietly making a living in our churches, social circles and implicit belief systems. Intentional separation, like any other sin, is to be fought with repentance and empowered by grace. We shouldn’t be okay with separate fellowships based solely on race. We shouldn’t be okay with distinguishing our worship styles based on ethnicity. And we shouldn’t be okay with not addressing these issues simply because we want to avoid difficult theological conversations that expose our desperate need for grace.

Jesus paid the cost, by ultimate sacrifice, out of radical love. We are now free to reciprocate that love and sacrifice, although not the cost. The cost was paid once and for all– unless one can pay the payment and live to tell about it like Christ did, we are left powerless to cover the costs. [Not that we don't attempt to do so with our moralist tendencies].

But we are called to reciprocate that love and sacrifice. Paul tells us to offer up our bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God in light of what Christ did… not to gain access to God. Paul understood Jesus’ final words to his followers when He said that He would never leave them when Paul penned that nothing could separate him from the love of God– this includes our very sin… We please God as we would please anyone who professes unconditional, radical, sacrificial love towards us.

When we think of it in that light, it’s barely a sacrifice at all. But in light of our propensity to sin, love sometimes does become a sacrifice and when it does, we are called to do so. But why? Or, better yet, how do we willingly sacrifice?

God has every right to say “do it because I said so”. He is God. He is sovereign. And yet, even though He has the right to exert His sovereignty in this way, this God says (and does) something drastically different.

“Follow me”. 

Give it all up. Sacrifice willingly. Love extravagantly. Forgive dangerously… Watch me do it. 

Our God does not merely say, “do it because I said so, because I’m God and you must find a way to please me” (as, frankly, the god of Islam seems to say). He models the way in service, surrender, and sacrifice.

We are now not only free to reciprocate this love but expected to. Jesus words in Luke 14 were and are hard to take in but they are fair. Our love for Him is to be so radical as to make our love for family look like hate. So over-the-top that we are to be willing and able to let everything go, even our very lives. That’s some fierce loyalty. But that is our only reasonable response to some fierce, unconditional love.

So what about our shortcomings, then? We can’t possibly love this way successfully for very long…

I think Jesus knew this. Which is why, I think, He promised never to leave us. He won’t abandon us. He will not disown us.

What about those times we are disobedient to Him- essentially forsaking Him and his call to love him with obedience? Our disobedience cannot separate us from the love of God. By the merits of Christ and Him alone, we can come before the throne of grace. Our disobedience does affect our following, however. It does not separate His love from us, in spite of our attempts to separate our love from Him with our sin.

Jesus was clear, one can’t follow 2 masters at once. Christ’s call to follow Him is a call to follow in His footsteps, to bring glory (fame) to the Father, to experience unreal, sacrificial love that knows no bounds… and it is also a call to freedom from having to settle for sin.

Scripture exposes sin as our slave driver– forcing us to obey its desires that lead to insatiableness, emptiness, and ultimately emotional, physical and spiritual death. So our sacrifice is usually this battle with our previous slave owner. But a battle means we’re living since the dead can’t fight. And, if we’re following Christ’s footsteps– his sacrifice led to life, real life, eternal life. Free from sin and free to enjoy the very Being who created us and loved us intensely enough to model the way.

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And here are some of those thoughts on singleness…

Purity?

In college I went to what could best be described as a Purity Pep Rally. Scheduled around Valentine’s Day (of course), it encouraged teens and young adults to “stay pure until marriage”… most notably, it encouraged enrollment in a certain prominent Christian university too. If you grew up in Christian circles, you would’ve known what they meant. I certainly did.

“Don’t have sex until you’re married”.

The message was a clear challenge to all the virgins in the room to “keep it up” and outright depressing to those who had already “messed up”. I know I can sound somewhat cynical sometimes- and that’s difficult to control in writing- but I want to be clear: I do believe in purity. My critique is its’ definition and practical application (or lack thereof).

And note: I believe in purity before, during and after marriage. While Scripture does discuss and encourage virginity or celibacy before marriage, purity is not strictly defined as such. We have taken the term/concept and debased it to something that expires on the wedding day (the fact that we do think this shows our narrow definition of the term)– neglecting our call to pure speech, offering up a pure offering, Jesus’ call to be pure of heart, Paul’s encouragement towards pure thinking, and James’ definition of pure religion– none of which are explicitly about sexual intercourse [no pun intended]. My argument is that that view is horribly misleading, difficult and painful.

But it’s easier to teach what not to do sometimes than what to do… or why.

This is my main problem with all of this (of the many problems I have with it)– we’re told that true love waits and often the emphasis is on the “waiting”. Maybe we’re failing miserably at this because we haven’t defined “true”. Sure, we may give out facts about STD’s, the probabilities of broken relationships, and which teen celebrity is wearing that ring this week. But why wait for this “true” love???

In the barrage of passages about this subject, I refer to Colossians. Chapter 3, verse 2 states pretty clearly, “Set your minds on things that are above, not things that are on Earth”. Fine. However, we often neglect the previous sentence. “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above where Christ is seated at the right hand of God“.

That’s a big “if“.

If you’ve tried to live the Christian life, Colossians 3 is a spiritual boot camp. Boot camps’ focus on discipline can be harsh, abusive and punitive. Boot camps can also be taken for their original purpose– to train soldiers to work, live, and breathe a very different life– one that is no longer their own but lived for a greater purpose. I know we’ve taken the boot camp model out of place for the sake of teaching discipline but, even when successful out of their original context, they tend to create moralistic nazis that can be so self-righteous, it puts the rest of us to shame (Hi, my name is Ita and I was moralistic nazi).

Boot camp was originally entered into voluntarily because the person changed– they wanted to live for the greater cause. They knew (or thought they knew) what they’re getting into. There’s no “come to boot camp, we have cookies” offer.

That “if” at the beginning of Colossians 3 changes the game. “If you have been raised with Christ…” If you know the truth of the Gospel– that Christ, by His grace through no merit of your own, is your peace with the Father; that you were rebellious against God but Christ has a made a way to reconciliation. If you know this and willingly want to obey Him, even when its difficult (hi, purity), knowing that you can only live Colossians 3 as you walk in Christ, rooted and built up in Him, established in the faith and in knowledge and abounding in thanksgiving (see ch. 2)… then, and only then, can we talk about true love waiting.

Purity pep rallies or boot camps or what-have-you can convince anyone of anything for a bit. And rings can remind you of what you were once convinced of. But unless one is confronted with the beauty of the Gospel– that purity is desirable because Christ loved/s His bride (the church) so radically He gave up His life for her AND that purity is doable solely because He empowers and encourages us so sticking to Him [not just wearing a ring] is a must– unless we know this truth, purity is going to become a dreaded lifestyle we can’t wait to let go of on the day we say “I do”.

Like prayer, my mind falls into 2 camps…

1- Speaking truth that tramples feelings. This is where people complain “I don’t want to hear another Bible verse”. Running a verbal montage about what the right thing to do is has its place. But too often, as the speaker, we’re concerned with what we’re saying and not who we’re saying it to.

Case in point, church kids. Church kids often know when they are in sin. Lots could be said about these kids but ignorant is not generally one of them. Outlining what they are doing and what they need to do may be warranted, but those in the ‘truth that tramples feelings’ camp often see this as the only way to go and may be wasting their breath if they are not taking the person’s affections into consideration.

I’m not a huge fan of emotions. That sounds wrong, especially since I was a clinical counselor and social worker. I like practicality and logic. Feelings are not always very logical. But emotions, whether practical or not, are a reality and ignoring them would not be very logical.

Emotions are God-given. When Adam & Eve sinned, emotions, like everything else about them, became twisted and broken. Connectivity became miscommunication. Passion became envy. Attraction became lust. Contentment became anger and so on.

As we are being restored into images like Christ, so are our emotions. And not just our own, but our brothers and sisters’. Hence, the command to speak the truth in love

Camp #2- showing love without truth. I hesitate to write love without quotations because, if we believe the Bible’s definition of love, it “rejoices with the truth“. The love that values comfort (although important and needed) over truth is not love.

Love comforts in pain. Love cries. Love sits in the “I-don’t-know”‘s of life. Love acknowledges hurt feelings [which, in many cases though not all, may be the root of rebellion]. Love empathizes with those hurt feelings.

But love does not worship those hurt feelings, exalting them above truth. Love holds fast to truth as tightly as they may be holding on to comfort, if not more so.

Love comforts and corrects. Why? Because love should point back to Love. It hurts to be corrected. It hurts more to see a friend painfully settling for regrets instead of reconciliation. “Love” without correction isn’t love, it’s tolerance.

I don’t want to be tolerated, I want to be loved. And I was told to treat others as I’d like to be treated.

Recently, I’ve noticed there being quite a few changes going on, specifically in my denomination. I’ve been told these changes are pretty common and since I’m relatively young and don’t remember or didn’t care before, I may be taking these changes too seriously.

Sure.

I’ve never really been a fan of bureaucracy so regardless of what goes on in a structured denomination, I do what I want– and that, namely, being living out the Gospel, loving God, loving people, and growing and caring about my and others’ spiritual maturity. But some structural changes shift the way we think (and ultimately do) things.

When I think about how the Protestant Church here in the States is structured, I can’t help but think we live in 2 very different worlds. (Actually, I really do think the United States is two very different countries– the Bible Belt and Everybody Else). So when I think structural changes I think, these 2 are going to collide again. And sometimes these changes force us to point out our differences in not-so-Christ-like ways.

It seems like we’re serving very different demographics.

Churched.

Non-churched.

Cultural respect for the sacred.

Intellectual regard for atheistic reasoning.

Nominal protestantism.

Nominal catholicism.

Baptist churches on every corner.

Dunkin’ Donuts on every corner.

As believers and (hopefully) studiers of Scripture, we have got to admit Christ had very different disciples and apostles (consider the differing personalities of the 12). Still, we often consider the Bible Belt & Everybody Else to be Cain & Abel, not Peter & Paul. And national changes highlight this dynamic.

So why are we so afraid of change?

I mean, no one knows New Englanders better than New Englanders. But why are we so afraid of southerners? Not all southerners are bad. Sure, they have accents, manners, and one-syllabled middle names… they may mistakenly yell “the South shall rise again” instead of “Go Red Sox” at Fenway Park but nobody’s perfect…

As New Englanders, we can humbly share our needs and knowledge and not live up to the “elitist icebox” reputation. And Confederacy, you may have big churches, but I’m not so sure everything there should be reproduced.

God is God and He is sovereign. That’s not a blanket statement to disengage with what He may doing on a national level- but a challenge to trust that He knows what He’s doing even when we don’t. We do what we know. We seek Him, by grace through faith, not through cultural standards. Culture is God-given and should be engaged, influenced and impacted. But in the end, culture is limiting and can only get us so far– basically, stopping at our very own borders. The depth of the Gospel message transcends cultures and even generations.

Is that not the only change that matters?

So, at the end of the month I’m looking forward to sharing with some young adults some thoughts on singleness. They don’t know that yet. In fact, I’m still wrestling with this one.

I’ve given my opinion in various conversations about singleness, dating and marriage, but I’ve never done so on a platform. I wasn’t given a topic and usually that means I have no idea what to share at things like this, but I’ve actually had this on my mind for quite some time now. I’ve known what I’ve wanted to talk about, not what I’ll actually be saying.

What are some thoughts?

  • What does culture tell us about singleness?
  • What does Scripture say?
  • How can godliness be practiced in singleness?
  • How does one prevent the thought that marriage is the “finish line” or the be-all-end-all to life?
  • And, if marriage is on the horizon for a young couple, what is a good way to prepare for it as a single?

I’ll report back some reactions afterwards, but I’d love to hear your thoughts now…

[Taken from GFA in blatant plagiarism]

Did you know that $350 Billion will be spent on Christmas this year in the U.S. alone? (And yes, that number happens to be half of the federal stimulus package).

And we’re in a recession.

Half of 1% is $1.75 Billion.

That’s a pair of chickens for every Dalit family in India.*

159,000 new church buildings built in Southeast Asia.

Half a billion Bibles (that is a b for billion) given away in a native language.

Five million children educated.

With half of 1%.

Remember Christmas.

*This is what that means.

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My Sunday School kids are the brightest, most easily distracted, bunch you will ever meet.

I’d like to say that I love and I’m great with kids. I’m not.

Give me a teenager or young adult any day. I volunteered to teach Sunday School because their former teacher left abruptly. But, as usual, God uses them to teach me all the time.

This morning, I had the lesson all set up and was reviewing it. Then I realized today is the National Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. “Oh crap… I should probably prep them for that since they will be in congregation for that…” We’ve talked about persecution before but it’s been tough for them to grasp. So I went downstairs and talked to Judah, a Gospel for Asia missionary who crashed at our house last night (naturally). I asked him how I should present this to 9-year-olds.

Throughout that conversation, he led me to Romans 8:15. So in class we talked about what “Abba, Father!” means and that we are God’s adopted kids.

It was a fun time. My girls were squealing ”Daaddy!”, my boys liked that Daddies have strength and can fix things. Everyone ultimately left with the thought that they are adopted (because I find it amusing to shock everyone at home when they share what they learned in Sunday School… and it forces them to repeat it).

So in learning about prayer and coming to God as a child would run into their Father’s arms squealing “Daaddy!” we introduced praying for the persecuted church. And then it dawned on me (as I was teaching, of course. Thankfully, I have no filter).

“How silly would it be if your brother was hurt and you ran to your Dad and said, ‘Can you buy me a new shirt?’”

The kids pretty much agreed that it would be stupid (although most don’t use that word). Yet that is often our reality.

Remember those who are in prison, as though you are in prison, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body. -Hebrews 13:3

They’re 9 and 10-year-olds. They don’t grasp the reality of persecution or the theological depths of prayer and being adopted heirs with Christ. But I don’t think I fully do either.

What I do know is that I can cry out “Abba, Father!” (“Daaady!”) as his little girl because the Spirit of Christ dwells in me through faith. I know that as an adopted daughter, I am to pray for my siblings. And I know that Daddy can usually fix things better than I can… or at least that’s what the kids told me today.

And they’re usually right.

So while their energy level drives me up the wall, their simplicity is quite sobering.

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