Earlier this week, I saw the film Call+Response with members of our church community.
Call+Response is a musical documentary about modern-day slavery and human trafficking featuring artists such as Cold War Kids, Talib Kweli and Moby alongside notable figures such as Cornel West, Madeleine Albright and Ashley Judd. [I've posted some personal reflections over on my blog, in case you're interested]
The statistics on slavery and human trafficking are unnerving. 27 million people enslaved. $32 billion a year made on their suffering (more than Google, Nike and Starbucks combined). And it’s not just a problem out there somewhere; thousands of people are trafficked every year right here in the States.
However, something in the film struck a particularly raw nerve for me, as an Asian American follower of Christ. Those depraved individuals who profit from the suffering and degradation of people are extremely resourceful, in their sick way. They adapt the techniques they use to ensnare others, depending on the area in which they operate. For example, in East Asia, they will often prey on the eldest daughters of impoverished families by convincing them they have no other way to support and honor their parents but by selling themselves into slavery.
Others will accuse the victims of rape and sexual slavery of being unclean and shameful to their families, so that they will have no real alternative but to remain captives. Filial piety, honor, shame, obligation — these are hard enough for us to navigate without predators twisting them for their own ends.
Everything inside of us needs to cry out against this sickness and insanity.
This is not about “compromising” the Gospel by promoting “good works.” If we believe what we say we believe — that God is good; that people (all people) are created in His image with dignity, beauty and worth; that we believe in a Kingdom that is right and true and good, because that’s the heart of our King — then we must be compelled to action. In fact, I would argue that mission and justice, for followers of Christ, are inseparable. We must not allow that false dichotomy to lull us into sleepwalking through life, thinking we’re doing God’s “eternal” work while, really, we’re kind of just sitting around.
I apologize in advance for the rantiness of this post; if anything, I feel this conviction most strongly for myself. Instead of feeling overwhelmed when confronted with these atrocities and, eventually, pushed back into apathy, I want to care about the people about whom God cares deeply. I know my heart is moved, and now?
Call+Response lists 33 ways you can respond today. Organizations such as JustOne and Justice Ventures International are a couple of grassroots non-profits working to promote justice worldwide and are well worth your support. Even the simple of act of telling a friend that slavery still exists today can be the beginning of positive change.



Most Korean Americans I know have experienced or witnessed a church split in their lives. At least one. And by the time they’re adults just kind of shrug it off as if they are inevitable, because in their minds and experiences, it is. Even pastors will say, oh, it’s that whole depravity thing. We’re sinful creatures, blah blah blah, drivel drivel drivel. As though that is an acceptable posture to project in front of a world that is mocking churches these days. Shame on us, judgment on us, and boo for us. A church splitting is absurdly normal for Korean communities. And between church splits and new church plants, Koreans are prolific, sometimes embarrassingly so, but rarely profound.
One of the idols in Asian American homes is the god of Ivy-league institution. It doesn’t take long after a child is born for the word, Harvard or Princeton, to get mentioned. And depending on how hard your parents work you, it becomes ingrained in you pretty early on that getting into a top school is what will set you up for life, ie. get your parents off your back, get the girl, get the job, and make that paper. 