Memory is short. It definitely needs to get a little longer.

In a time of economic recession, it’s easy to get a little scared, a little angry. It’s human. We don’t know what’s coming around the corner, and we feel unsafe. And when we feel unsafe, we often lash out.

In the 1930s, Germany was in deep economic recession. After World War I, the terms of the Treaty of Versailles ground the German economy to a halt, and the cost of food and basic goods skyrocketed. It was in a time like this that Hitler could rise to power. And he found an easy scapegoat for all their problems: the Jews. The Third Reich made them wear yellow stars of David. If they forgot to wear them, they were often beaten and killed. If they wore them, then they were tormented and scorned. They could be punished if it was a couple centimeters to the left, or if it was safety-pinned instead of being sewed on. It was humiliating. When those yellow stars came on, it was a world separated by the Jewish and the non-Jewish. And they didn’t quench the anger: six million were decimated by the time the war was over.

In America, we’re also in a time of economic recession. It’s easy to be a little scared, a little angry. It’s easy to lash out. And right now, we’re on the doorstep of repeating a disastrous history. We won’t do it across the Atlantic. We’ll do it right in our front yard, in one of the hardest places hit by the collapse of the housing market — Arizona.

Arizona just passed the nation’s toughest immigration law, signed in by Gov. Brewer. By August, it will be a crime if you forget your immigration papers. If you forget them, you can be arrested. Even if the police merely suspect you’re in the country illegally, they can detain you. The police aren’t going to stop men of Irish ancestry or women of Swedish ancestry. They’re targeting a particular people. And forcing them not to leave their badges — I mean, their papers — at home. This is an open invitation to the widespread harassment of the Latino community — even if they are American citizens. This action won’t bring back the housing market, and — I assure you — it won’t quench the anger either.

We’ve done it before. We interned the Japanese during World War II. Hate crimes occurred against Middle Eastern Americans — and South Asians as well, just because they look similar — after 9/11. When we feel unsafe, we lash out at people groups less powerful than ourselves. That’s unjust, and thus, deeply sinful.

God warns us here repeatedly in the Christian Scriptures: “Do not mistreat or oppress a foreigner.” And, “You are to have the same law for the foreigner and the native-born. I am the Lord your God.” Jesus himself said that the entire Jewish Scriptures could be summed up by two commands: love God, and love your neighbor. And for him, that neighbor wasn’t born on native soil.

The Arizona legislation is not the solution, but will only add to the problems. This isn’t an issue about political parties anymore. It doesn’t matter if you’re Right or Left, Red or Blue. It’s about people. The worth of human beings. And it’s also deeply spiritual: it’s about the soul of this country. And everyone’s in it.

Remember, we’ve done this before. Pray that it doesn’t happen again.

This is cross-posted at the Institute for the Study of Asian American Christianity’s blog.

* * * * * * *

Reflection on John 20.19-23

And the end of a weekend conference, a student came up to me and declared, “I must not be very Asian.”

The first words that came to my mind was: Is she crazy? She was clearly Korean-American, not only in looks but also in custom and culture. But the words that came out of my mouth were more pastoral: I asked her why.

She said, “Well, I don’t suffer from a lack of self-esteem and I don’t have issues with my parents. So I must not be very Asian.”

It’s too easy for Asian Americans to define ourselves by our weaknesses. In our cultures, it’s easy to be tough on ourselves. It’s instinctive to counter an offer of praise with a retort of self-criticism. It’s natural to focus on the one bad grade on a stellar report card. And this very inclination may cause us to emphasize Good Friday at the expense of Easter Sunday.

Good Friday can almost feel cathartic, right? I can come to the cross with my faults and sins. I can ask for forgiveness. And it has been taken care of on the cross. It’s all about my weaknesses. And rightfully so. But Easter? Often, the resurrection is just proof that Good Friday worked. Since Jesus rose again, then our sins are truly forgiven.

But Easter is also so much more. It’s an invitation to life! The Scriptures say we died with him, for “we have been crucified with Christ.” With his resurrection, “we also live with him.” We actually live with Christ, and Christ lives in us. We participate in both Christ’s death and resurrection. And so, we don’t merely look back at what Christ has done for us, though we’re deeply thankful. On Easter, we also look forward to the new life God is springing up in us.

Because he lives, we too can truly live.

ST. LOUIS, MO — The snow has spiced the ground like salt, and the temp is nine degrees below freezing. I’m cold. But God isn’t.

And He is gathering 16,000+ here for the Urbana 09 Student Missions Conference to hear from leading practitioners and theologians about what He is doing throughout the world.

If you’re Asian American or Asian Canadian and here at Urbana, there are some gatherings I want to make you aware of:

Asian North American Ministers’ Gathering (co-sponsored by InterVarsity and L2 Foundation). On Wednesday, December 30 at 2-2:45p, pastors and ministry leaders are gathering to discuss the potential for church-parachurch partnerships to bless cities throughout the country. We’re meeting at the Kingsbury room in the Renaissance Grand Hotel, and Rev. Sabrina Chan, DJ Chuang and myself are co-leading.

Pan Asian North American Student Lounge. If you just want to receive prayer, grab some bubble tea, connect to the internet, or just kick up your feet and unwind, this is a great place for you. Throughout our time at Urbana, the Lounge will host special guests and presentations, so don’t miss out! It’s located at the Holiday Inn Select.

And you can find me leading a seminar on True Story on Monday, December 28 at 2p — which is also an Urbana book of the day! — and on Tuesday, December 29 at 2p on “Decision-Making and the Will of God” for the International Students Track.

Hope to see you here!

TO LOS ANGELES, CA — The day really couldn’t be more glorious, though it didn’t start that way.

Instead of packing last night, I stuffed my bags this morning. It made me 15 minutes late. No problem. I still had time to catch the train, but there’s no margin. We raced up the 5 to get to the Solana Beach station. I jumped out of the car, and bolted to the ticket window. The teller waved her hand to dismiss the ID check, and told me that the train was already at the station. I’ve got literally one minute.

I hurled myself out the doors and down the stairs, only to find a dead end. I raced back up the stairs, across the bridge, then took a wrong turn only to backtrack left and stumble down two flights of stairs only to see the train start to move. I thought about running alongside and hopping on like a hobo. Instead, I stopped on the third stair, turning my head to watch the train roll by.

But conductor said, “You’re late, but I’ll see if I can get the train to stop.” And it slowed down, and with my heart beating hard, I jumped into the passenger car.

But since then, I’ve caught my breath. And it’s been glorious.

It’s a great way to start a day: an oceanside train-ride up the California coast while the sun is welcoming a new day. The soft, orange glow of the morning gives light to the penguin-donned surfers enjoying their first break. It’s a gorgeous day. A beautiful day.

But the day ahead is set up to be just as glorious. I’m heading into Union Station where some of my best friends will pick me up. They’re busy, but they’ve given up their weekend to help me find an apartment in their old stomping grounds. When I leave this weekend, they’re going to let me borrow their truck and trailer so that we can haul the entirety of our material possessions out of San Diego and into our new apartment in Los Angeles.

It’s a glorious day. Every day.

If we only have eyes to see it.

I live in God’s beautiful world, and enjoy the friends he’s given me. My family — and my new son, Nathan! — are daily gifts to me. They’re like having Christmas every day. In it all, my heart full enough to burst, and my eyes are ready for grateful tears. And the Scriptures tell me that Someone up there is orchestrating it all, to be the one who “satisfies you with good, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.” I don’t know how youthful eagle’s are, but being satisfied sounds wonderful.

If I keep searching for the good, and being thankful about the good, and keep on bringing in the good, then it makes sense that I would become full of the good. Soaring on wings. Because we can’t give, love, serve, or bless out of lack. It always comes out of abundance of mind, heart, soul, and strength. If we feel poor, money won’t flow out of our hands. If we are tired, there is no more time that we can give. Without contentment, it’s easy to burnout. We can only give out of what we have.

Father, satisfy me with good.

A year after the release of True Story, InterVarsity Press has released a study guide for personal reflection or group discussion. It’s a free download from the InterVarsity Press website, so enjoy! When used along with True Story, it’s ideal for study in smaller groups.

On the front cover, it says that you have to get permission from me to make copies, so here it is: you now have permission. Go, therefore, and make copies!

A huge thanks to my friend CR and the folks at Duraleigh Presbyterian Church for field-testing the material. I hope this gives the people in your churches and organizations an easy way to learn step-by-step about how Jesus’ talked about the gospel, and discover why it’s really great news!

I’m going through major transitions.

First, we’re having another boy, and he’s due in September. Second, we’re moving to Los Angeles. We don’t know the exact timing, but we’re heading up there sometime in the next seven months or so. Third, I’ll be out of a job in six weeks as a director for San Diego InterVarsity.

Conception, location, and vocation. What else could possibly change?

And the transitions weighed down on me like a burlap sack full of black coal. First, I really loved the first seven years of my marriage. No kids. Eat out? Anytime. Movies? We’ll be there. Sleep in? Enjoy the snooze button. Life was good in no-kid-ville. Don’t get me wrong: Ice is a joy. But when he came into the world, my lover became a mother. And I became the help.

Second, L.A. is Nineveh to me. I grew up a Laker-hater. Plus, add lung-blackening smog, parking-lot traffic, and the expectation to drive 45 minutes to see friends, and it’s hard to think of a city that can be any more aggressively anti-community. Throw in materialism and rampant image-consciousness into the mix, and it seems to stand against everything I live for. I hate L.A. so much that though my wife hails from its South Bay, we drove down to San Diego when I proposed because I couldn’t stand to think of being engaged in L.A. See, I’ve got serious issues.

Third, I couldn’t dream. With my wife’s job lasting for only a year, I found myself again in limbo. I can’t live out a dream. I have to wait for another year — possibly two — before I can work for something longer term. I’ve often felt like a racehorse at the starting line, where the other gates have opened while mine has stalled shut. And now, I have to wait even longer.

Eyes downcast, it’s hard to stay upbeat.

But I’ve been called to let go of what isn’t real. The wife of my first seven years is no longer. She’s now a mother. A beautiful, tender, nothing-held-back kind of mother, the best kind that my son could ever have. I need to let the old wife pass away to embrace the wife I truly have. Because the wife I have, though different, is still the wife I desperately need and deeply adore. And L.A. may be Nineveh, but I can’t go to Tarshish. Sure, what place can be more idyllic than San Diego? But it will soon no longer my home. Instead, l’ll need to embrace my new home. (Though, rooting for the Lakers may take some time.) Besides, I hear the food can’t be beat. And my past director role — and all the identity that was wrapped up in it — needs to die, so I can embrace what will come next. Letting it go gives me an empty hand to grasp the new thing. And I want to make sure that I’ll be able to catch it when it comes by.

For Christians, Fridays always come before Sundays. Crosses are the way to crowns. And resurrection is always preceded by death. The two are never separated — in faith and in reality.

But perhaps we don’t give enough attention to Holy Saturday. Good Friday and Easter Sunday get a lot of attention in liturgical calendars, but many of us live in Holy Saturday: we know death has already come, and we wait to be reborn.

I’ve been invited to lead a workshop at the National Outreach Convention 2009 on The Big Story. And Tell It Slant is the first stop on the NOC’s blog tour. They’ll post some questions, and I’ll reply to their questions and any that you might have throughout the day. So ask away!

Christianity Today just published a Bible study based on the Big Story, the diagram featured in True Story: A Christianity Worth Believing In. It’s a follow-up to the article they published last July. It’s not free, but for a small fee, you can download it and make up to 1,000 copies for your church or organization.

Rating: 10

This is the first book I’ve finished in 2009, and if the rest of the books I read this year are in this caliber, this is going to be a very good year.

Postman deftly shows how the shift from the Age of Print to the Age of Television is having a disastrous effect on the tenor of our public discourse. He argues that the very nature of television makes it impossible to have deeper, thoughtful conversations about the burning issues of the day. And, he convincingly argues, TV affects everything else in culture. He has a clear intellect, and his sharp analysis on the way television shapes us is disturbing and should serve as a wake-up call to us all.

This book was written over 30 years ago, and was a prophetic call in an Age of Television. But it seems that as we’ve moved into the Age of the Computer or the Age of the Internet, some of the arguments don’t easily port over. The Internet is a somewhat more interactive form of media than, say, television. Or even books for that matter. And I’d be interested to know the prevailing metaphor that the medium of the Internet is introducing into our culture today.

Regardless, it’s a timely book that argues quite forcefully for the need to ask questions about the role of media in the shaping of not only our culture, but also our minds.

You can view its Amazon detail page by clicking the image above.

Click here to see other reviews.

As many of you know, True Story has a companion booklet called Based on a True Story that’s intended for giveaway use.

What’s news, however, is that InterVarsity Press has given me permission to post the first twelve pages of the booklet, so you can get a sense of what it’s like. If you like how it captures the central thrust of the Christian message, please feel free to get some copies for your friends.

It’s Christmas Eve, and we’re in the middle of a recession. And if the pundits are right, it’s the worst economic slide since the Great Depression. In it, we’re spending less: Christmas sales are down, even online. For many, that merely reinforces the fact that our economy is hitting the brakes, which leads to despair. But what if this could be a season of hope and opportunity?

Giving is also down. And something seems wrong about that. In a time of fiscal crisis, I know we all have less. But since there’s a greater need, shouldn’t giving actually increase?

That’s where we need vision for a new kind of economy. I don’t think we’ll ever get rid of the one we have: capitalism is the survivor of the fittest, and it looks like it’s here to stay. But if, in the simplest of terms, a robust economy is measured by how quickly the money flows from one hand to another, why should it be dominated by a system of the purchase of goods and services? In a market system, we earn dollars to spend on things, which goes back to corporations to pay for salaries, which come back to us — and it all goes around in a circle. In a good economy, that money flows around faster. In a bad one, the cycle slows to a standstill.

So why not have a system where giving has a far larger share. It’s still a cycle where money is exchanged, and the giving can support non-profit organizations who offer jobs and provide social services with what they do — to the benefit of society — while also providing income so that these workers can survive and continue to contribute to the market economy. Just as rising oil prices pressed for greener alternatives (though that pressure is now off), perhaps a recession can push for alternatives to augment our market economy.

For example, my friend pointed out an idea from Simon Chan’s book, Crazy Love. On page 120, Chan makes the suggestion that Christians could try to live at or below the median income ($46,000 in 2006). Perhaps a national number is unrealistic because of where you live. Perhaps you choose your county’s median income, or your city’s. Or perhaps you can’t do it now, but you might be able to in a few years. No problem. But you try. And you put yourself at a limit, then give the rest away. Or just a lot of it away. Wouldn’t that feel refreshing? It feels a lot like what Jesus would teach.

And he didn’t just teach on it. He also asked people to do it. Remember the rich, young ruler, who lived as a moral exemplar, but couldn’t give all of his money and possessions away to the poor? Jesus let him walk away. Or Zacchaeus, who gave away half of his wealth to the poor, and gave back four the times the amount he stole unfairly? When salvation came to his house, so did justice. And vice versa, when justice came to his house, so did salvation.

This is where Christmas comes in. Jesus also limited himself. On Christmas, we celebrate that God showed up on earth as a cooing, crying baby. That’s limiting. A biblical author writes: “Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn’t think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn’t claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion.”

So as followers of Jesus, what if we decided to live on the median income of the region we live in? And then gave the rest away. We’d still be rich in comparison to the rest of the world, where one billion people live without access to clean water or electricity. In America, almost every one of us is rich. And we’d learn limits, and learn love through our generosity. Instead of clinging to our advantages, we gave it away. We’d be happier and freer. And that’s what Jesus came to do: to free us. For it truly is better to give than to receive.

This Christmas, we’re given the gift of limits. And I don’t want to be insensitive: I know that some of us have lost our jobs. But we’re also given the opportunity to give even in tough times. And in this way, our sliding economy offers us another chance to live more closely to what Christmas is about.