Finding Our Voice

A Vision for Asian North American Preaching

Matthew D. Kim, Daniel L. Wong

• Publisher: Lexham Press
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781683593799
• Topic: Teologia e religione
• Subtopic: Ministro del culto cristiano

No one preaches in a cultural vacuum. The message of what God has done in Christ is good news to all, but to have the greatest impact on its hearers--or even to be understood at all--it must be culturally contextualized. Finding Our Voice speaks clearly to an issue that has largely been ignored: preaching to Asian North American (ANA) contexts. In addition to reworking hermeneutics, theology, and homiletics for these overlooked contexts, Kim and Wong include examples of culturally-specific sermons and instructive questions for contextualizing one's own sermons. Finding Our Voice is essential reading for all who preach and teach in ANA contexts. But by examining this kind of contextualization in action, all who preach in their own unique contexts will benefit from this approach.

CHAPTER ONE

THE ASIAN NORTH AMERICAN EXPERIENCE

Daniel L. Wong

Professor Sang Hyun Lee argued that first-generation immigrants’ primary existential question is, “Why am I here?” … First-generation ministry needs to offer theological resources that would help people to engage with this primary question. If so, I think second- and third-generation Asian [North] Americans wrestle with the question, “Who am I?” I think Asian [North] American preaching needs to address both of these questions from different theological angles, addressing both identity and calling (answering “why are we here?”) in a meaningful way.

—Peter T. Cha, professor of church, culture, and society, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School

What are you?” “Where are you from?” “Where are you really from?” Questions like these bombard ANAs in their everyday life. Due to our appearance, we are presumed to have originated from an Asian country, have a particular Asian background, and speak an assumed “foreign” language. My most vivid memory of this kind of encounter stems from when I was outside my home in Markham, a suburb north of Toronto, stretching with my young children before we went for a jog in the neighborhood. A car filled with young people rolled down their windows and yelled like a chorus, “Welcome to Canada!” I instinctively started running after the car. I didn’t want to pick a fight, but I did want to explain to them that my relatives have been in North America since the late 1800s. I am the same as them except I am a visible minority and I look like the many immigrants from Hong Kong and China who populate our area.

Such experiences affect my perception of self, how I interact with others, how I serve as a Christian, and even how I preach. Do you have similar experiences? In this chapter, I contend that the ANA experience is unique and different from both the white experience and the immigrant Asian experience. In particular, the history and journey of ANA listeners is marked by two competing narratives: that of the model minority and the perpetual foreigner. Due to the ongoing perpetuation of these narratives in North America, concrete reflection on these issues will result in making us more attentive and effective ANA preachers as we care for our ANA hearers who often struggle to make sense of who they are and how their identities impact their Christian life.

THE FORMATION OF IDENTITY

When we think of identity, we consider both our self-identity (what do I think of myself?) and an imposed identity (what do others think of me?). Our self-identity forms from early experiences with our nuclear family and extended family. Is there an environment of acceptance and love? When we go beyond these intimate spheres, a new world emerges of looks, judgments, and appellations. How we navigate this imposed identity is crucial for developing a healthy self-esteem.

Everyone struggles with personal identity. It is a part of growing up, and finding answers to our questions about identity has been called “the search for significance.”1 What complicates identity for ANAs is that we are visible minorities. Consequently, we often struggle with accepting our appearance. The pressures that come with being visibly ethnic include Asian stereotypes, such as having excellent academic abilities. If we do not excel in school, we can experience self-loathing and shame. Theologian Grace Ji-Sun Kim states the added complexity of ANA identity formation this way: “Minorities are always asked to define themselves, or are identified with some form of adjective, while the white, European/American is never asked to define himself/herself. This actually allows the dominant, kyriarchical system to keep its presumptions of ‘normativity,’ while forcing those who do not fit that category to continually identify themselves.”2 She uses the term “kyriarchy” to mean anything having lordship or authority over another.

Identity is not a fixed feature of ourselves, like an arm. It is ever changing. Just as our physical selves are prone to grow and mature, so does our self-identity shift and expand over time. Gail Law developed the Dynamic Bi-Cultural Continuum Model to show that we fall somewhere on a spectrum between being more or less aligned with our traditional ethnic heritage.3 Factors such as place of birth, cultural experience, type of family members and friends, schooling, type of church, where we live, and who we marry all affect movement along the Dynamic Bi-Cultural Continuum.

As an example, I often choose to identify myself based on the group I am among. At times, I have self-identified as an American-born Chinese, but since I have spent over half my life in Canada, I also consider myself a North American-born Chinese. For the purpose of this book, I am an Asian North American. We are hyphenated people, whether the hyphen actually appears or not. Fred Mok also shows this dynamic understanding of identity in relating his journey toward identifying himself as Asian American:

I didn’t realize I was Asian American until I moved to Atlanta in eighth grade. Before that, I was certain I was Chinese. In San Jose, I had lots of Chinese, Korean, and Japanese friends. We lived in the same affluent neighborhoods, were in the same accelerated classes, and had parents who worked for the same high-tech companies. We were plentiful. Despite the same immigrant emphasis on achievement, we were able to distinguish between Asian sub-groups. We didn’t think about being Asian American until high school. At lunch time, we sat next to a low brick wall near the library. I later discovered my non-Asian classmates referred to the location as “The Great Wall.”4

Like many ANAs, I struggled to accept who I was growing up. I often wished I could shed my yellow skin and just be Caucasian as my language and behavior indicated. When I became a Christian in high school, a Christian identity became a safe haven for me. I came to understand that there was a better place to root my identity and that is “in Christ” (2 Cor 5:17). This Christian identity surpassed race, ethnicity, and other factors. It connected me into the broader community and a family of believers, the body of Christ. Of course, identity in Christ does not obliterate one’s skin color, cultural background, gender, and accent. Even Jesus Christ, although portrayed in art in different ways, was Jewish.

The apostles Peter and Paul serve as helpful illustrations of Christian identity formation. Peter was thoroughly Jewish and needed a “conversion” just as much as a Christian from a gentile background.5 We see Peter’s struggle in Acts 10 in his openness to changing his perspective. I recall a Bible college professor saying that God was already moving Peter to openness as he stayed at the home of Simon the tanner (Acts 9:43). God prepared both Peter and Cornelius for a mutual encounter with the gospel.

The apostle Paul, while also Jewish, is an example of a bicultural, bilingual Christian. He was born in Tarsus, a largely Greek-speaking gentile city, so he was considered a Hellenistic Jewish person. He was embedded in his Jewish religion, leading him to become a rabbi. He was zealous in his misguided commitment to God, hotly pursuing and persecuting Christians. God stopped him dead in his tracks and effected his conversion (Acts 9; 22, and 27). Paul later came to understand who he was by the grace of God (1 Cor 15:10), and he could accept others based on Christ’s acceptance of himself (Rom 15:7) because of his conversion experience. He did not forget his ethnic and religious upbringing. He could operate among many worlds by wisely working with others of various backgrounds.

A biblical understanding of identity facilitates the acceptance of self in all aspects of life. It provides hope and potential for every person found in Christ. In retrospect, I can see how God used my background to shape me into the person I am today. God used various experiences I had in Asian churches so that I could mentor and encourage others who serve in similar circumstances. Like many of us, there are certainly times when I question my identity and thus self-esteem, but I hasten back to Christ and find identity in him under his lordship.

ANA HISTORY AND IDENTITY

The identities of ANAs are tied to immigration history. I will not recount this history; there are many resources to explore the history of ANAs (especially abundant are those of Chinese and Korean ancestry in North America).6 Suffice it to say, each time there has been a wave of immigration from Asian homelands, immigrants experience discrimination from mainstream residents and often from the government in the shape of various official exclusions, such as the Chinese Exclusion Act in the United States in 1882.

The first ones who leave their home country are called first-generation immigrants. Their children, depending on their age when coming to North America, are sometimes said to be 1.5-generation immigrants; they are bilingual and bicultural. Those born in North America are part of the second generation.7 For the purposes of this book, we will include those who came to another country at a young age in the second generation, and the focus will be on this second generation and subsequent generations in North America.

First-generation immigrant parents often bemoan the fact that their children lose their language and culture, but this process is inevitable in immigrant communities. I have even heard Ken Fong comment to first-generation parents that it was their fault that their children lost their language and culture; after all, the parents decided to move to America. If they had not left their home country, their children would not have lost the language and culture. However, these days, Western influences are hard to resist even in the home culture due to the ubiquitous internet. Fong uses the analogy of fish to describe the cultural transformation among later generations. He calls this the “inevitable flow of generations.”8 Asian immigrants are freshwater fish like bass. The second generation are more like salmon, which swim downstream to salt water as they mature. They are adaptable fish, going between culture and languages. The third generation are acculturated cod who speak only English. They are saltwater fish who are at home in the new environment.

It seems that the further ANAs get away from the immigrant experience, the more curious they are about their family history and identity. While the second generation can be at odds with their first-generation parents, third-generation ANAs like me often seek out their roots. Maybe they take a genetic test or explore the oral history of their family. I found that my paternal grandfather immigrated to the United States and settled in San Francisco. No doubt he came through Angel Island, the entry point for the Pacific at that time. All I know about him is that he was a “paper son,” going under the assumed name of Wong, pretending to be the son of another family to get into the States. My middle name is Lee, which was his real last name. I wonder how old he was when he arrived. What did he do subsequently? Was his wedding an arranged one? I know more about my mother’s side. My great-grandmother was born in the Monterey Bay area. Her parents and others traveled from the Canton province of China by small ships to arrive on the California coast, making their livelihood by fishing.

Being born in America and then living in Canada for half of my life, I have noticed there are some key differences between Asian Americans and Asian Canadians. One is the context of race in each country. The United States is viewed racially as black and white, with other groups filling in the middle.9 Canada is viewed as a multi-cultural country, affirming cultural diversity. Another difference between the countries is that Canada has a more accepting political attitude toward receiving immigrants than the United States. And third, from its strong British connection, Canada has adopted the British way of accepting multiculturalism into its culturally diverse empire. These differences weigh heavily on ANAs’ self-identity and imposed identity. I find esteem issues more rampant in the United States, where the pressure to assimilate continues. This comes from the antiquated understanding of the United States as a melting pot, calling to mind a cartoonish image of a pot with people being dumped in as the ingredients.10

While Canada can feel more inclusive, this does not mean that there are not pockets of racism and discrimination, especially in times of terrorism and our post-9/11 world. Having a parliamentary system also affects the day-to-day life of Canadians and the political climate. Canada is more akin to European countries with their post-Christian realities. Since most Asians live in major cities in Canada, ethnic ingredients, food, and restaurants are readily available. One Asian Canadian commented, “I think the Asian Canadian experience depends on how deeply one assimilates Canadian culture, fluency and command of languages, and general mindset.”11 While Asian Canadians can assimilate to a degree, there is still naturally a tension. Skin color is not invisible, nor does it fully blend in with others.

PARENTAL EXPECTATIONS

A perennial issue experienced by ANAs in the second generation and beyond is the expectation from parents to achieve. This is a major complaint of ANA children, youth, and young adults that gave rise to Amy Chua’s image of the “tiger mom.”12 The...