Part Two with Michael Chen on Collective Liberation and Asian American Theology

This is part two of a conversation with Michael Chen of AAPI.Liturgy. Recorded on April 30th, 2021

Find Michael Chen on instagram @aapi.liturgy 

Michael Chen lives in Philadelphia with his wife Rachael and their two boys.  He is a graduate of Princeton Seminary where he earned his Master of Divinity, and is currently working on a PhD in Marriage and Family Therapy at Eastern University.  As a long time campus minister, he has a heart for helping people live more fully into their unique identity and vocation.  In his free time he likes exploring cities and eating dumplings.  Also, he is a karaoke champion. 

Maggie offered a recap of last week: We talked about collective trauma, what it is and how that impacts the way we view healing. We explored what it means to be Asian, a name that encompasses a vastly diverse group of people from 50+ countries. Michael reflected on his own experience of growing up and working in predominately white spaces and how race has been somewhat of a binary construct of black and white. Through his work and research getting his PhD he started AAPI.Liturgy where he seeks to create a space to expand, explore and examine what it means to be both Asian American and Christian.

Currently Michael is researching for his PhD and the overarching questions for him has been: What does it mean to Asian American and Christian? What is Asian American theology? Michael says “The term ‘Asian American’ comes out of the 60’s. It’s a protest identification really trying to capture the essence, fervor of the Civil Rights Movement.” His big question is, “What happened?”

Michael grew up in a Chinese Church that was somewhat divided. There was a Chinese congregation that was Mandarin speaking. With the influx of Chinese immigrants they grew a Cantonese congregation. And then the children of those immigrants needed their own congregation, and so they formed an English congregation. There were three congregations within one church and they just “did” church and the topic of what it means to be Asian or Asian-American in Church was not a topic of discussion. Michael was around Asians weekly and yet there was no exploring the deeper meaning of their sense of isolation, of being marginalized, of experiencing micro-aggressions or being stuck or feeling stuck in predominately white spaces and structures. “So we talked about Jesus… and we were just with one another which on a level was wonderful and great but in the back in my mind I had that question of ‘what does it means to be Asian American’ that never made it into the church space.”

It was this inquiry got filtered through literature and sociology classes, and through Seminary (at Princeton) where he studied white theologians—Calvin, Kuyper, Augustine, Luther…. The question, “Is there an Asian American theology?” was never given much room. Michael began to wonder, has anyone written on Asian American Theology? In his research he came across a math professor who was doing research and writing articles on Asian American Liberation Theology. He found the early course readers of the 70s, at the beginning of Asian identity as a political identity as a movement, as well as the conversation that was happening around Black Liberation Theology,  the work of James Cone, [Gustavo] Gutierrez. At last it seemed he had found them—"Here are folks that are thinking about and talking about the experience of marginalization! People who are looking at the biblical narrative and finding themselves in it."

Michael gives the example from the Japanese-American Rev Dr. Jitsuo Morikawa who converted to Christianity from a Buddhist background. He was interned in Arizona during WWII and began preaching the gospel at the internment camp. After this experience he went to seminary and eventually pastored a predominately white church in Chicago. At that time the sentiment was, “A Jap will always be a Jap. The Japanese will always be suspect.” Michael notes that for Morikawa to be in that position of widespread prejudice and to subsequently see the church grow, it is a powerful move of the spirit. When Michael read some of Morikawa’s writing around the Asian American experience in the Exodus story, it was the first time he had seen or heard anyone thinking about Asian liberation in light of the Biblical narrative.  It brought so much deep emotion for him and inspiration in thinking about the Asian American story in light of the movement from slavery into freedom — He asks, “Where are we now in our Exodus journey? And what does mean to become a priesthood of believers with our particularity, with our story, with our art, with our culture, with our poetry, with our faces?”

Danielle is struck by how in the United States we have collected vast ethnicities of people groups into continents. She’s says it is almost as if we (in the US) can not bare the particularity in their ethnicities. And yet she feels that as we come into the spaces of story there can be solidarity. She names for her, being Mexican is her particularity, she finds so much solidarity and inspiration in the stories coming out of Cuba Colombia, Argentina and other countries in South America. It moves her and makes her feel like she too can express her self and her story.  Danielle remarks that it is in this continent grouping that happens in the United States, that for Michael as a [Chinese] man, he ends up looking towards other ethnicities within the continent grouping that the US has labeled “Asia” to find pieces to put together to form a theology.

Michael says yes, and it is in part redemptive for his particular family story. His maternal grandfather was imprisoned by the Japanese in Taiwan, which was under imperial Japanese control. His grandfather spoke English as a translator, which during WWII made him suspected of having allegiances and ties to the United States. He spent two years in a Japanese in POW camp, after his mistreatment there he subsequently died a few years after his release of kidney failure. So for Michael to look to the Japanese experience in America is healing and redemptive to him, expressing a movement of the spirit and movement forward for all of us to find language, models and resources for our collective liberation. "When we can get into the particularities, the closer they are to our own stories they will move us and shape us and form us, then it will move us towards freedom and life. " We are hungry to know the end of the story. The wordlessness of the trauma we are in, the confusion and fragmentation that we are hearing, feeling, sensing… Michael says we need stories.

Danielle remarks that last week we were talking about collective trauma and this week we are talking about collective redemption. She says there is an offer of hope for collective liberation for what we are going through as a country right now—She said in the churches she grew up in and in the places she’s at, there isn’t a theology for collection liberation. “If we gloss over everybody as a white theology then we actually miss out on a framework that God has provided for collective liberation.”

Michael thinks one direction that Asian Americans needs to go in the coming years is addressing the large financial gap among the diverse and vast Asian American community. And knowing that it will take a tremendous about amount of work and intentionality to see a collective healing and liberation.

Maggie recalls a quote “If even one person is not free, then no one is free.”

She mentions the 2019 Korean film Parasite which was an up close looking at classism—naming the tremendous wealth gap and how the classes viewed each other. It made her think about what the wealth gap is like here in America, and even from a hyperlocal perspective in the area where she lives in the PNW with big companies like Microsoft and Amazon.  There are a lot of wealthy people from SE Asia and India living in this area and it changes the way the wealth gap looks here specifically and she knows that it is not reflective of the larger experience in America. Parasite had helped her to become more aware of the wealth gap and classism among AAPI.

Michael said Parasite was brilliant story-telling. He remember the idea of the smell, the particular smell associated with different parts of our world and our culture. He believes a lot of the issues we faced can not be solved through our logic, it has to be embodied. Parasite was able to show class structures and identity issues through sensory and embodied engagement.

Michael wanted to say the name of John Huynh, who was stabbed in Bothell, WA this week because he knows that it will not get a lot of media coverage—first because we have be so inundated with seemingly ceaseless stories of death and violence, but second because most of the news stories around anti-Asian violence have been towards elders or women, and this was a young Asian man in his 20s. It caught his attention because of the nature of his death—he was stabbed in the heart. What came to mind for Michael was a word in Chinese,忍 (rěn) - He says most Chinese words are pictographs, which means the image conjures up also the meaning of the word. The picture is a knife on top of a heart, and the Chinese word means “to tolerate" or "forebear.” One of the complexities that he wrestles with is the idea of forbearance that requires him to cut off his heart, to cut off desire, to cut off parts of himself just to survive. He says as Asians “we’ve known that collectively for so long that we don’t know any other way.” He says to keep cutting your heart has become a survival mechanism just to make it through. It’s complicated, we’ve got to tolerate and bear a lot in life, as we all do in our various spheres of life… But the reminder of this man’s death has brought him to ask, "What is my heart? Are there places that I am cutting off, that I feel like I need to cut off [just to survive]?

Danielle says the loveliness that we’re describing in the movie parasite comes in contrast with the rage-hate that is happening in our current world. In a discussion with some some colleagues, she asked “what’s the word for resilience in your language?” Sam Lee also brought ren from Chinese and she said, “damn if I want to be resilient like that.” When Sam asked Danielle what the word is in Spanish and Danielle admits she doesn’t know one. The closest word is aguantar, “just make it” or “bear up.” Danielle says the question she hears loudest is, “how can we bear up when people are stabbing us in the heart?”

Michael says, it’s too costly to keep doing the bearing up. “I need to find a better way…[we] can’t keep taking the cuts and the stabs.”

Danielle names that he is on the screen with two women, Danielle is half German and Maggie is mostly Swiss. There is complexity even in our conversation. The temptation to talk too much and not allow silence but then to allow also silence. 

This is a healing process for him, to talk about these issues that he’s not had space for. “It’s amazing, but it feels like a foreign country.”

Maggie adds, “And a foreign language, if they're really aren’t words for resilience that don’t involve cutting off parts of yourself.”

Danielle says it feels good that there are so many  complexities and characters in the Chinese language and that that feels like there can be space for finding a third way.

Part of Michael’s migration trauma was not wanting to learn the Chinese language because it would move him into the area of what he was trying to avoid: It wasn’t a good American endeavor to take time on a Saturday to go to Chinese School. Now he’s sad but catching up. One article he read said there are 13 different words in Chinese for shame. “To be that well aquatinted with shame that you need that many different words to describe the nuances of the experience is very indicative.” 

Michael finds himself moving towards relief to think about having a community of folks to find a different way of being.

Maggie says that is what has been so inspiring about Michael’s presence on AAPI.liturgy—he has created a space that explores and expands and holds the complexities of his face and his faith, creating a sense of belonging for those that have been on the margin and can understand that liberation theology. “You literally creating what has not yet be done. It is beautiful.”

Michael says, “I love that word, belonging." It is a sense of salvation—that feeling of connectedness and communion, a feeling of acceptance and belonging in a deep visceral experience.

Danielle thinks that is what people are deeply longing for in the US and yet it is manifesting as violent rage in some. The prophets and pastors that are in those spaces need to say “enough is enough.” Almost like a parent to a teen; “Actually no you can’t do that. And maybe your thinking hasn’t changed but you have to stop that.”

Michael names, there’s a lot a stake.

Maggie says it feels good to allow space, to offer a sense of wordlessness. As she reflects back on the conversation last week about how our bodies are not meant to hold or process what we are experiencing without a ritual without meaning making…  To sit with you two to have space and to allow it.

Danielle’s essay comes out this week and she will have to update it to include the new names as much as she can. She has an expectation of violence but also a hope that there won’t be. It is a deep ache. “Dear Lord Jesus, have mercy on us!”

Michael is reading: Jitsuo Morikawa, Roy Sano

Michael is listening to: “You will be found” Dear Evan Hanson

Michel is inspired by: the show Warrior, the way it handles Asian American identity, history and language is brilliant.

If you are thinking: What can I do to stop racial violence? Danielle encourages you to sit down with whoever is in your circle (family, spouses, children, neighbors etc) and have a conversation about what it means to love people well and to see people’s faces well. And if you hear something or see something when you are out, you have the freedom to say “Let’s not do that, we’re trying to stop this violence.”

Keep the conversation moving, be actively involved with the people in your proximity.

Well, first I guess I would have to believe that there was or is an actual political dialogue taking place that I could potentially be a part of. And honestly, I'm not sure that I believe that.