Category: Formation

Tom Lin reflects on his experiences growing up as one of the few Asians in his Chicago suburb, grappling with his cultural identity and personal acceptance. Initially, Lin distanced himself from his Asian heritage, believing that skin color was the only difference and that everyone was fundamentally the same. Despite his outward confidence and social ease, he felt a deep-seated shame about his parents’ culture and his own identity. The disparity between the Western ideals he embraced and his parents’ more reserved cultural expressions only deepened his sense of not belonging, both in his family’s world and among his white friends.

The themes of face and grace are central to Lin’s journey and resonate with many Asian-American Christians who confront similar struggles. The accompanying inductive Bible studies in this guide address critical questions about overcoming the pressures to earn salvation, balancing parental expectations with personal calling, and dealing with self-image issues exacerbated by cultural tensions. Through exploration of Scripture, readers may find both guidance and personal insight, offering help and hope in navigating their own journeys of faith and identity.

At a time when Americans from all creeds are wrestling with faith, identity, and a plethora of other questions, Lin’s guide is more relevant than ever before.

Last Friday night, Kristen Johnson was preparing to say bedtime prayers with her seven-year-old son when an unexpected scene unfolded outside his bedroom window. Glancing out, she saw police lights flashing, and soon, an image was seared into her mind: a half-naked, handcuffed body lying face down on their driveway. Given the heightened tensions between African Americans and the police in recent years, along with her growing understanding of the issues within the current criminal justice system, Johnson felt a wave of concerns crash over her. But in that moment, she and her son did the only thing they could think of—they prayed. They prayed for the safety of the teenager in handcuffs, for the police officers on the scene, and for peace to prevail. Their prayers went beyond the immediate crisis, extending to the long-term well-being of everyone involved.

This instinct to pray first wasn’t an avoidance of the harsh reality unfolding outside their home; it was a deeply ingrained family practice that Johnson had cultivated over the years. Since her son was a baby, they had made it a habit to pause and pray whenever they heard sirens or saw flashing lights. This practice was inspired by a soccer teammate of Johnson’s who would make the sign of the cross and say a short prayer whenever a siren blared in the distance. Seeing this, Johnson was struck by the thought that sirens typically signify someone in need, and what better response than to lift that need up in prayer? As her own children grew, she incorporated this practice into their daily lives, teaching them that as Christians, they should care about those in distress, even if they don’t know the details of the situation. Over time, especially after incidents like Ferguson and Staten Island brought the tragic deaths of African American men during police encounters into the public consciousness, the content of their prayers shifted. Prayer became a way to engage with these complex and difficult public realities, not to escape them, but to face them with faith.

Through this practice, Johnson came to understand that prayer is not just a private act, but one with profound public significance. When she and her son prayed that night, they were participating in something much larger than themselves—a union with God in which their prayers were enveloped in the ongoing work of Christ. This trinitarian reality of prayer meant that their seemingly private prayers had social importance. As they prayed for the teenager on their driveway, they were not only responding to a specific incident but also engaging with broader issues of justice and reconciliation. Johnson realized that the Spirit of God was using their simple act of prayer to shape their imaginations, helping them see the value of each life and the importance of seeking God’s kingdom and justice in every situation. This experience reminded her that as Christians, their prayers are never confined to the private realm—they are a powerful connection to the God who is actively at work in the world, making all things new.

Read the entirety of her essay here.

How can Christians navigate cultural and political conversations in a way that reflects Jesus? And as church leaders, how can we equip our congregations, staff, and communities to engage in these discussions with a foundation rooted in Scripture? 

Join Justin Giboney, co-founder and president of the AND Campaign, for a free webinar on how Christians and church leaders can bring both compassion and conviction to cultural and political dialogues. Whether we’re in the midst of an election season or not, it’s crucial that our hearts reflect Jesus’s character as we engage in these potentially divisive conversations. 

Speaking about her recent book, The Evangelical Imagination: How Stories, Images, and Metaphors Created a Culture in Crisis, Karen Swallow Prior applies a “literary and artistic sensibility to theological and political questions” concerning evangelicals in the United States today. Much of the tradition’s rich intellectual history has been lost in our national conversation. Tune in to her conversation with Serena Sigillito on the “Public Discourse” to get a glimpse of how expansive the evangelical imagination has been—and what it means for our current moment. You can read her remarks here and enjoy an excerpt from her work below:

There is no limit to the things that fill the evangelical imagination. And there is, of course, no one evangelical imagination. There are dozens more subjects I could have chosen to cover in this book beyond those in the chapters that follow. And there are hundreds more examples of each of these I could have included. But these are the ones that I know—the im- ages, metaphors, and stories that I have pondered, taught, examined, or questioned, and seen others do the same.

I must also note that I am not a historian. I am not a theologian. I am not a philosopher. I am an English professor. I am a reader and writer who cares about the way imagination shapes our world and each of us. And I am an evangelical, one who has been formed by the surrounding culture—and cultures—just like everyone else. I am not attempting in these pages to outline a historical linearity, a doctrinal critique, or any post hoc ergo propter hoc claims. I know that correlation is not causation. The human imagination is not so neat as any of these.

In a way, what follows in these pages is simply my testimony. It is a picture of the evangelical imagination as I have found it over the course of years of researching, studying, reading, worshiping, and living and grappling with my own imagination—what fills it and fuels it.

The following is an excerpt from John D. Inazu’s latest book, Learning to Disagree: The Surprising Path to Navigating Difference with Empathy and Respect. 

Read more of John’s thoughts on democracy, empathy, and law here.

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Think for a minute about the alternative—a world without law. A world where it’s everyone for themselves and violence reigns unconstrained. A world with unending cycles of vengeance where the people with the most strength dominate and exploit the people who are most vulnerable. You might point out that this already happens anyway in a world governed by law. And you would be right. But think how much worse it would be if the law no longer constrained any of our worst impulses.

A world with law—the world we all prefer—means a world of winners and losers in politics, policies, and legal disputes. . . . You may decide that some of your beliefs about these issues are not open to compromise. And sometimes you will find those beliefs on the losing end of a law or policy. In those moments when compromise isn’t possible and you’ve lost, it’s natural to feel like the whole system is rigged or needs to be reimagined. In practice, though, it’s more pragmatic to keep fighting within our law-governed system rather than trying to destroy it. Trying to upend the system usually ends in futility, frustration, or chaos. Few people who don’t already agree with a movement will be convinced by its calls for revolution. These kinds of rallying cries appeal to those whose views already lie in the extremes rather than to those who might be open to persuasion and political change.

When you find yourself on the losing end of a conflict that cannot be resolved through compromise, you don’t need to throw in the towel or blow up the system. An inability to compromise is not always a dead end, and even zero-sum decisions can usually be reconsidered. Use the opportunity to deepen your understanding of what’s at stake in a disagreement and why others see things differently. And recommit to work toward a different solution while continuing in your efforts to persuade others that your position is, in fact, the better one.