Thursday, March 28, 2013

Anglican Women on Church and Mission

The Anglican Communion is in crisis. The battle over homosexuality, with its intense media coverage, threatens to rip the Church apart. The debates on women bishops in the Church of England caused anger and frustrations among female clergy and their supporters. Some conservative Anglican bishops and their followers have formed a Fellowship of Confessing Anglicans, chastising the Church as having gone astray from true biblical teaching. These controversies epitomize the challenges facing the Communion and touch on fundamental issues such as the crisis of Anglican identity, the nature of authority and provincial autonomy, contrasting views on biblical interpretation, and ecumenical relations with other churches. The tenor of the debates is also influenced by the shift of Christian demographics from the global North to the global South. If the contentious issue of women’s ordination did not break the Anglican Church apart in the 1970s, some are less optimistic that the Communion can weather the present storm and find ways to remain together.

Yet even as gender and sexuality issues remain at the heart of these debates, voices of women from the Communion have not been clearly heard or appreciated. Media coverage and church pronouncements tend to focus on the opinions of bishops, as if they could represent the range of diversity within the member churches, or of spokespersons of various Anglican networks and agencies, who are mostly male and clergy. The voices of lay people and women are marginalized, even though women make up the majority of many churches. This groundbreaking volume attempts to fill this gap by inviting female church leaders, scholars, and theological educators from across the Communion to share their reflections on the Anglican Church and its mission. An anthology such as this makes a unique contribution because there are very few substantial works by women from different parts of the Communion. It is even rarer for the majority of the book’s authors to have grown up in the global South, bringing with them the rich textures and multilayered experiences of the Anglican Church.

The book originated at a conference for Anglican female theological educators at Canterbury, United Kingdom, in the spring of 2009. The women gathered became very conscious of the fact that we had few women leading theological schools in the Anglican Communion. Although there are several books on Anglican women’s history, mission, and struggles for leadership, they are mostly limited to a single country and do not cover the Communion as a whole. Judith A. Berling, Jenny Te Paa, and I decided to coedit this book to broaden the conversation.

The book is divided into two parts. Part one provides Anglican historical and theological perspective on the Church. Contributors include Ellen K. Wondra, Jane Shaw, Wendy Fletcher, Jenny Te Paa, and I. We discuss the transition from a colonial church to a global Communion, the problems of authority, the debates on sexuality, women's struggle for ordination, and women’s leadership development in the Communion. 

Part two focuses on Anglican women and God’s mission. Gulner E. Francis-Dehqani, Cordelia Moyse, Esther M. Mombo, Denise M. Ackermann, Clara Luz Ajo Lázaro, and Judy Berinai are the contributors. The chapters discuss the involvement of women in the Church Mission Society in Iran, the work of the Mothers’ Union, the Church’s involvement in poverty alleviation in Africa, the Church and the HIV and AIDS pandemic, cultural diversity and women’s spirituality within the Communion, and women witnessing Christ in a Muslim context. 

We hope that this book will promote dialogue and scholarship on women in the Communion. We are very grateful to those faithful Anglican women who have gone before us, and we hope that women in the upcoming generation will be given greater responsibilities and leadership opportunities in the Church.

 
*Adapted from Anglican Women on Church and Mission © 2013 the Church Publishing Inc. All rights reserved. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY.

 

Saturday, March 23, 2013

I Went to the Emergency Room

Last Saturday night I went to an emergency room in Evanston, Illinois. I had spasms on my right chest. Luckily it was on the right side and not the left side (where the heart is located). Since I needed to fly back to Boston the next morning, the nurse I spoke to at my primary care doctor’s office advised me to go to the ER to make sure I was all right.

I am a relatively healthy person. This was the second time I have gone to an emergency room. The first time was almost ten years ago when I had vertigo. I was very fortunate that my colleague Gale Yee attended the conference in Evanston with me and she kindly accompanied me to the ER.

I didn’t know having chest pain would give me some privileges at the ER. I didn’t have to wait and was swiftly seen by a nurse assistant, who checked my vital signs. Then the health care professionals did the ECG, took chest x-rays, and ordered the blood tests.

I was not very nervous since I did not have sweating, shortness of breath, dizziness, and other symptoms of a heart attack. But fear crossed my mind when I gave Gale my spouse’s cell phone number, just in case.

Thank God, my ECG, x-rays, and blood work were normal, except for low potassium. I was able to board the plane the next day to go home.

What happened in the next few days was a learning experience. For first of all, I had to find out what caused the spasms.

I googled chest pain and chest spasm on the right side and found so much materials. Websites like the Mayo Clinic’s provide very detailed and useful information on all forms of chest pain. But what I benefit most are those forums in which patients share their symptoms, treatments, and results. These completely unknown strangers suddenly seem like friends to me and I am not so alone.

Pain makes us connect with our body in a special way. Pain is difficult to describe. People who have not had debilitating muscle spasms might sympathize with you, but they might not fully comprehend how you feel. For example, one person in a forum said that finding other people suffer from similar pain made her feel that she was not insane.

It was difficult for my doctor to diagnose since I did not have symptoms associated with heartburn or acid reflux at the time, and the pain was located under the right collarbone. My doctor prescribed muscle relaxer, but it upset my stomach so much that I couldn’t sleep.

I saw that a person in one of the forums suggested putting some salt on the tongue and swallowing it. I didn’t know if it would work but I had to do something to stop the pain. So in the middle of the night, I went to the kitchen to try it. I was so tired that I dozed off afterward. It might or might not have worked.

On the next day, four little red bumps started to appear on the side of my body. At first I thought I have scratched my skin and didn’t pay attention. Then the rash spread to the back and the breast. And as if this wasn’t bad enough, symptoms of acid reflux began to develop. When I went back to see my doctor, she said I had shingles. Oh My God!

I was given medicines to treat the shingles and acid reflux, but I still needed to manage the pain. This was where Chinese medicine came in. My acupuncturist has been trained in Western medicine and she understood that shingles occurs when the virus that causes chickenpox gets activated. But in Chinese traditional medicine, shingles is caused by heat in the liver and gallbladder. This happens when one is stressed, too tired, and the body loses its balance. Although I do not understand why it has to do with the liver and gallbladder, Chinese medical system always reminds me that the body is a wholistic system, and overall balance is important.

I thought some Tai Chi movement would help. I consulted Dr. Paul Lam’s Tai Chi exercises for beginners and for arthritis on Youtube. I have had Tai Chi lessons before and found his exercises easy for the joints and for a body in pain.

Pain in the body often brings one to a threshold, because one starts to ask many questions about the body and about life. I have always believed that sickness is the body sending a message and I have to learn to listen.

It is surprising that shingles comes during my sabbatical, when I should have more time to relax and rest. But when I look at my sabbatical proposal, I recognize that I have intended to do even more than when I am teaching, including books and projects, planning a course that involves international participants, speaking engagements, and international travels. A person half my age might have found this demanding. I need to rethink the pace of life and to set priorities and to say no to more things.

Illness has its social dimension and healing comes when one is supported by family and friends. I am very fortunate to have a strong social network. My spouse volunteered to postpone his travel if needed to take care of me; my daughter who lives in Manhattan asked if I needed her to come home. Colleagues and friends who heard about my illness sent their prayers and healing energy. Several of them who have experienced chest pains and muscle spasms told me how they have dealt with them. I am very grateful to them for their loving care.

Just as I am having these pains in my body, Sheryl Sandberg, the chief operating officer of Facebook has started a national conversation on women, work, and leadership through her book Lean In. She encourages women to “sit at the table,” take greater responsibilities, and pursue their goals. She notes that sometimes women are the ones who sabotage ourselves. There is truth to what Sandberg has said because women must overcome both internal and external barriers to be able to succeed.

But I appreciate the wisdom of Arianna Huffington who says that in order to lean in, women must first lean back. By leaning back, she means taking care of our well-being, having enough sleep, and rejecting the culture of “time macho.” Huffington, 18 years older than Sandberg, learned this in a hard way. In 2007, while spending long hours at the Huffington Post, she had to cart her youngest daughter around the country for college visits. She fainted because of exhaustion and hit her head on her desk and broke her cheekbone.

Huffington wrote, “The world needs women to redefine success beyond money and power. We need a third metric, based on our well-being, our health, our ability to unplug and recharge and renew ourselves, and to find joy in both our job and the rest of our life.”

Both Sandberg and Huffington are millionaires who have a team of people to help them take care of family, children, scheduling, and other personal needs. I wonder how the corporate structures and the workplace need to change so that ordinary women, and not just wealthy and successful women, can lean in and lean back at the same time.

Before these changes happen, we have to listen to the messages of the body and develop a way to eat a healthy diet, exercise, and reduce stress. For a workaholic like me, this is not easy, because I actually enjoy doing the work I do.

This blog is not meant to give medical advice or intended to replace the advice of a doctor. 

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Challenges of Theological Field Education Today

Williamsburg, Virginia
I have addressed theologians, biblical scholars, practical theologians, and even supervisors of clinical pastoral education. But I have never spoken to a gathering of directors of theological field education, until last Thursday.

The 32nd biennial consultation of the Association of Theological Field Education (ATFE) was held at Williamsburg, Virginia. I was invited to deliver the keynote address on “From Pasts to Possibilities: Religious Leadership in 2040.” It was my first time to this historic city, the capital of the Colony of Virginia from 1699 to 1780. Together with Jamestown and Yorktown, Williamsburg formed the Historic Triangle of colonial Virginia.

About 130 people attended the consultation: the majority was from the United States and about five each from Canada and Australia. Almost half of the participants have served as directors of theological field education for less then ten years. About ten people attended the consultation for the first time.

Our hotel is located across from the College of William and Mary, the second oldest institution of higher education in the U.S., established in 1693. The College was named after the monarchs of England, Scotland, and Ireland at the time. The portraits of William and Mary are hung at a parlor in the hotel. This was the first time that I saw the portraits of English monarchs in an American building. The Colony of Virginia was the first English colony in the so-called New World.

About fifty yard from the hotel is the historic First Baptist Church, which dated back to the 1700s, when the slaves and free blacks wanted to have their worship separated from their slave owners. After the Civil War, the Church provided support for the newly freed blacks.

Given the rich history of the city, I talked about the colonial past, the abolition movement, and the Civil Rights movement and pointed to nation building as imperial formation in the United States.

I challenged the field educators to be bold in the formation of religious leaders for 2040, when there will be no racial and ethnic majority in the U.S. We will need flexible, agile, and forward-looking leaders of faith communities in preparation for a racially, culturally, and religiously diverse United States.

Instead of sending seminarians to learn from experienced supervisor-mentors in church settings, which they are already familiar with, directors of field education should ask, “What kind of new field sites and new experiences our students would need in order to prepare for a much more diverse church and society leading to 2040?”

What if we see theological field education not as apprenticeship, but more like a laboratory—a place to try out and test new things?

At the gathering, I learned that some schools have already tried out new models of field or contextual education. For example, at Vancouver School of Theology, second year students work in studios—non-traditional field sites—to learn about creative leadership and ministry. In their senior year, students do their field work in church contexts.

I also learned that in some Roman Catholic schools, conversations about field education are often conducted in global and cross-cultural perspectives, because of the diversity brought by international students, who are priests and nuns from the Global South.

After my keynote address, many people came up to me to discuss and share their work. My heart was warmed when a younger director who attended the consultation for the first time told me that my address had broadened his understanding of his vocation as a director of field education.

Another person came to tell me about summer field education in the national parks, which I have not heard about. The students meet all kinds of people at the parks and offer pastoral care and counseling for people who need them.

I am very grateful for the privilege of addressing the directors of theological field education. Special thanks go to my colleague William Kondrath, director of field education and professor of pastoral theology at my school. Kondrath is a senior member of ATFE, having served as a director of field education for nearly two decades. Conversations with him helped me understand the changing contexts of theological field education today.

Monday, December 10, 2012

Church in the Round

St. John's Memorial Chapel
Sermon preached at St. John's Memorial Chapel, December 6, 2012

St. John’s Memorial Chapel at the Episcopal Divinity School was built in the nineteenth century. I asked historian David Sigenthaler what chapel and worship was like when he was a student at the school in the 1950s.

At that time the altar was set against the east wall, the faculty sat up in the chancel, and the students sat in the pews facing each other. Each would have an assigned seat and chapel during that time was compulsory. The design of sacred space mirrored the hierarchical setup of the community. In the 1960s when Christopher Durasingh and Ed Rodman were students, the pews were removed and replaced with chairs.

In 1992 when I joined the school, the altar was brought forward to the crossing and the ambo was placed on the west side near the entrance. The students sat facing each other.

To honor Brett Donham who renovated St. Paul’s at Brookline after the fire in 1976 and our presider Rev. Jeffrey Mello, the rector of St. Paul’s, we have created a worshipping space modeling after St. Paul’s in which the congregation and the choir sit surrounding the altar. Donham talked about the rationale of why he designed the church in such a way:

“The traditional forms of church buildings, with everyone facing in the same direction and with the ‘expert’; the intermediary or interpreter, on a raised stage addressing an audience is the antithesis of gathering in community.”

St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Brookline, MA
Today many churches are recovering the early roots of Christianity. Donham continues, “In these places people gather in community to offer praise and thanksgiving, to reflect on scripture, to share stories about Jesus Christ and his impact on their lives, to share a commemorative meal, and through this to come into communion with Christ, and with one another. These are communal activities, with many players, several centers of action and movement, and require the ability to see one another and feel as a gathered body.”

We have shifted the feast days and celebrate today the feast of Macrina, theologian, teacher, and monastic. I would like to invite you to reflect for a moment on the image of the church in the round.

Several things in Macrina’s life lead me to think that she will be open to the church in the round. Her brothers Basil and Gregory of Nyssa were bishops and renowned theologians in Cappadocia in modern day Turkey. Macrina as their elder sister admonished them to lead a life of simplicity and not to depend on their knowledge and rhetorical skills, their wealth, and their high positions in church and society.

In the Life of St. Macrina, Gregory said Macrina persuaded her mother to give up all showy style of living and the services of domestics. She urged her mother to share the life of the maids and to treat all her slave girls and menials as if they were sisters and belonged to the same rank as herself.

During her life, Macrina embodied what Philippians said, “I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus as my Lord” (3:8).  When we think of the church in the round, we imagine a more egalitarian model in which social status and hierarchal structure both in the church and society can be transgressed.

Most Holy Redeemer Church, San Francisco, CA
(Catholic)

 
Although we don’t have any writings from Macrina about the religious community she has formed, her brother Basil has written a Rule of Life, which preserved some of her ideals. The Rule of Life describes a community living together for worship, prayers, mutual help, exercise of virtue, and assisting others. Though the Rule prescribes obedience to the superior, it also exhorts the superior to reprove offenders with meekness and gentleness. In such a way, power within the community can be more shared and not restricted to the top.

The church in the round exists not for itself but for others. One of the hallmarks of the church in the round, as theologian Letty Russell has described in her book with the same title is hospitality to those on the margins. Macrina demonstrated her hospitality by feeding the hungry, providing for the needy, and taking care of young women. The two aspects of gathering for worship and sending out to service are inseparable.

Sometimes we are disheartened because we find the church more like the form of a triangle, in which power is concentrated at the top, instead of in the round. The church design and liturgy reinforce the separation between the clergy and the laity. Worship is often separated from ordinary life and from a sense of mission. It fails to give the sustenance that we need or meet the deepest longing we have for God.

In the season of Advent, a time of anticipation and expectation, let us renew our hope and work for a church in the round. One of my students Lucretia Mann brought to my attention an Orthodox theologian John Zizioulas, who has said that church is not an institution, but a way of being, that is deeply bound to the being of human, the being of the world, and the being of God.*

We can each bring something new to rejuvenate and enliven our community and way of being. We do not need to abolish the old church in order to create something new. We can redesign and reoccupy sacred space within traditional buildings so that we can experiment with different ways of being with God. In this semester, we have seen several creative expressions of using sacred space, particularly in the Eucharist led by Stephen Burns and Christopher Duraisingh. In the course of doing so, we experienced new centers and movements as people of God.

As a teacher of spirituality, I believe that external space also shapes and nurtures our internal space. The change of external space gives us a new sense of our own place in the world. It is no coincidence that many sacred traditions embrace the circle in their holiest sites, such as the prehistoric Stonehenge in England and the Temple of Heaven in Beijing, and in their religious imagination, such as the Tibetan Mandala (a sanskrit word meaning circle), the Native American dreamcatcher, and the labyrinth found in many cultures.

The reading from Sirach 51:13-22 talks about Ben Sira setting out on a journey to find Wisdom. Sometimes he is delighted for having found her and listened to her. Other times he spreads out his hands to heaven and laments his ignorance of her. The spiritual path is never straightforward, but winds back and forth, and sometimes we will get lost on our way.

The church in the round is also a process and not a perfect circle. Sometimes we move two steps forward and one step back. All we are asked to do is to transform the triangle or the rectangular form in our chapel to make it rounder each day to the glory of God. Amen.
 
* John D. Zizioulas, Being as Communion (Crestwood, NY:  St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1985), 15.



Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Race Matters in Political Theology

Race plays important roles in political theology, whether implicitly or explicitly. Its invisibility simply signifies the whitewashing or Eurocentric nature of political theology.

Many people begin with Carl Schmitt when they discuss political theology. What would it mean if Wu Yaozong (1893-1979) of China had inaugurated discussions of political theology instead of Carl Schmitt?

To ask this question is to contest a Eurocentric trajectory of political theology and a notion of race constructed primarily out of Western experience. It underscores the importance of using a comparative lens to look at racial construction in the modern world and the complexities it poses to political theology.

When Schmitt was working on his treatise Political Theology, published in 1922, Chinese students and workers were demonstrating in the streets against the results of the Treaty of Versailles signed after the First World War. The Treaty awarded the German rights in China’s Shandong Province to Japan, even though China had entered the war on the side of the Allies.

Wu Yaozong was radicalized and began to ask the fundamental question if Christianity could save China from foreign aggression. He was a YWCA secretary, author of many books, and one of the most prominent leaders of the Chinese Christian Church after 1949.

If Wu had inaugurated the discourse of political theology, the discussion on race would not have focused simply on the difference between the Caucasians and Asians, because of Japan’s imperial aggression in the first half of the twentieth century.

As Nami Kim has shown, Japan was able to use racial and cultural affinities between the Japanese and other Asian peoples to construct a pan-Asian identity to argue for Japan’s commitment to “liberate” Asia from Western aggression. In this particular case, racial similarity has been deployed as propaganda to serve political gains and to obfuscate differences.

I have always been surprised by how the national histories and identities of Asians are conveniently obscured under the racial label “Asian and Pacific Islander” in the US. Even the 1.5 or second-generation Asian Americans still carry memories of their national origins, sometimes through the actions of their parents.

Wonhee Anne Joh uses the term “haunting” to describe this nagging feeling of one’s past. She asks, “How do our still-present pasts continue to haunt us? How is it that the place one has left continues to haunt even as one tries with every effort to belong to a new place, despite its latent and sometimes overt hostility?”

Asian Americans and the Asia Pacific religion seldom feature in anthologies of political theology. Race and Political Theology, edited by Vincent W. Lloyd, contains several chapters from the Jewish experience, which are important given Schmidt’s anti-Semitism, while adding a few chapters that touch on African Americans. The 800-page volume Political Theologies: PublicReligions in a Post-Secular World edited by Hent de Vries and Lawrence Sullivan contains no single Asian or Asian American author, as far as I can tell.      

This oversight continues to amaze me. I can’t help but ask: “Are we dealing with political theology in the twentieth century or the twenty-first century?” During the American presidential campaign, I did not hear EU mentioned as many times as China. At the present moment, there is really no excuses for American political theologians not to take the Asia Pacific region, especially China, seriously, no matter to which race you happen to belong.

If it were Wu Yaozong and not Carl Schmidt who had inaugurated the discourse on political theology, how would political theology in the U.S. look different? Let me offer three observations.

First, it would be quite obvious that we would pay much more attention to the overlapping histories between the US and the Asia Pacific region. As I have written, “before [Asia] emerged as a market for U.S. capital, Asia was seen as a war zone. Beginning with the Spanish American War over the destiny of the Philippines, the United States has fought successive wars in Asia. During the Cold War the United States pursued a containment policy against China and the former Soviet Union.”

Today, Asia Pacific has become a strategically important military theatre for the U.S., especially during the disputes among Asian countries over the control of islands and resource-rich waters in the South China Sea.

We will be curious to know during the lengthy political and military engagements with Asia Pacific, what American theologians have said or written about the region. American theologians’ perceptions of Communism and China, for example, have changed over time. As is well known, Reinhold Niebuhr’s Christian Realism led him to be suspicious of the promise of Communist revolution and its belief in human agency.

But the Chinese revolution has inspired supporters of the Black Panther Party and black intellectuals, such as W.E. B DuBois, Malcolm X and Manning Marable, to name a few. During the 1960s and 1970s, some in the New Left were fascinated by the Chinese communes and the new egalitarian society that was allegedly being created in China.

Today, quite a number of seminaries in the US have organized trips and travel seminars to China. For Lamin Sanneh of Yale and Richard J. Mouw of Fuller, the phenomenal church growth in China is worth paying attention to, since it is changing the shape of world Christianity.     

Second, Wu Yaozong would have pushed for a much more robust class analysis in American political theology. The encroachment of the West, the Japanese invasion, the corruption of the Nationalist Party, and China’s dire poverty led him to embrace Marxism gradually. He challenged the capitalist powers for their aggression, which had resulted in wars and conflicts in China and elsewhere. Similar to other Chinese radical intellectuals of his time, he advocated social revolution to save China and condemned the exploitation of the bourgeois class. 

In the current discussion on race and political theology, class seldom surfaces or is touched on only tangentially. Meanwhile, the wealth gaps between the different races in the US have grown to their widest levels since the government began tabulating them a quarter-century ago. New census data shows that the net worth of white people, on average, is 20 times that of the blacks, and 18 times that of Hispanics.  

If political theology is concerned about the common good, it cannot be oblivious to the growing disparity between the races in the US and between the have and have-nots worldwide.           

Wu would also be very suspicious of the so-called Beijing consensus and the kinds of state capitalism practiced in China or Russia. He would be right to suspect that Mao and other Chinese revolutionaries would be turning in their graves to see the capitalist transformation that is happening in China. He would urge public intellectuals and political theorists and theologians to find a more sustainable system of economic and political development.           

Third, Wu Yaozong would be allergic to the rhetoric of freedom, democracy, and human rights used by Western politicians and often endorsed by liberal political theologians. He would point out, as other postcolonial thinkers have said, that in the name of the promotion of democracy and human rights, wars and invasions have been justified by President George W. Bush and his neocon advisors.  

It is futile and often self-serving for the West to impose their political systems or governmental structures on the religious other or racial other. The recent presidential election in the US shows the weakness of the democratic process, when a few billionaires could exert so much influence.           

For Wu, the freedom of the individual must be balanced by the collective commitment for the common good. His vision of political and economic liberation predated that of Latin American liberation theology by several decades. If Latin American theologians have used the Exodus as their biblical paradigm, the Sermon on the Mount was fundamental for Wu.  

For him, the central Christian message is God’s love. “Love does not condone evil, instead it is the enemy of evil.” Political theology influenced by Wu will not just champion individual rights, but will focus on the evil nature of interactive oppressions, based on race, gender, class, sexuality, and so forth.           

The constructions of race and racial identity in the modern world should be investigated with a comparative perspective. With the shifting geopolitics, the Asia Pacific region should receive greater attention, and Western political values must be scrutinized through a global and transnational lens.
 
* Paper presented at the panel “Race Matters in Political Theology” at the annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion, Chicago, November 18, 2012.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

My Teacher Gordon D. Kaufman

Those of us who had the privilege of visiting Professor Kaufman’s home on Longfellow Street in Cambridge, Massachusetts, would never forget Gordon’s hospitality and his wife Dorothy’s great cooking. Many of us would remember the blue carpet in the living room, which the couple bought in Hong Kong.

But the most memorable item in their home for me was the silk scroll that Gordon’s parents brought back from their days as Mennonite missionaries in China. It was dedicated to his father and has the Chinese transliteration of his last name Kaufman, which means, “overflowed with blessings” in Chinese.

My life has been overflowed with blessings since meeting Kaufman and having him as co-director of my dissertation. Kaufman had shown great interest in my work and told me that he was conceived in China, though he was born in the United States. He had a deep curiosity about Asia and had visited or taught in India, Hong Kong, China, and Japan.

The most important legacy of Kaufman for theology is his theological method, and particularly his understanding of theology as “imaginative construction.” And Kaufman has offered us a very capacious imagination indeed. Kaufman’s theological thinking had changed over time. While his philosophical thinking has been much shaped by Kant, he has continued to dialogue with different cultures and sciences.

One of Kaufman’s dialogical partners and friends at Harvard was Edward Wilson, an expert on sociobiological and the life of ants. Wilson sent him his illustrated 700-page exhaustive tome on ants when it was published, and Kaufman proudly displayed it in his room.

In Creating Minds, Howard Gardner said that creative people are distinctive in their abilities in bringing different bodies of knowledge and thought together into fresh synthesis. Kaufman demonstrated his abilities in navigating through theology, philosophy, natural sciences, and the study of cultures and religions.

To develop a capacious imagination, one must be willing to be self-conscious and self-critical. Kaufman’s constructivist method is not satisfied with staying safely within theology formulated in the past, including his own. His several books on God testify to his remarkable ability to challenge his own thinking and move onto new horizons.

Over the years he continued to learn from his female colleagues in the academy and his female students, who help him to understand the limitations of anthropomorphic and andocentric images for God, such as creator, Lord, king and father. His understanding of God as “serendipitous-creativity” opens new avenues for dialogue with the natural sciences and with ecofeminism.

His imagination was also nurtured by his sustained interest and participation in Buddhist-Christian dialogue. His moves toward a naturalistic Christianity open new possibilities for dialogue with Buddhism and other traditions that have a more wholistic understanding of nature and the interrelation of all beings. His biohistorical notion of humanity, for example, may find resonance in Thich Nhat Hanh’s concept of interbeing. Kaufman has written a fascinating comparison between the Christian concept of God and the Buddhist notion of emptiness.

The fecund imagination continued in his old age. His major work In Face of Mystery was published in 1993, when he was sixty-eight. As his students, we know that he had worked on it for many years, for we heard it in lectures and saw him drawing the trajectories on the blackboard. He last book Jesus and Creativity came out in 2006, when he was eighty-one years old.

In the book On Late Style, the postcolonial critic Edward W. Said discussed two different styles in the late works of musical and literary artists. Some would continue to do what they are used to do since their younger days. But there is a group of artists, including Beethoven, who have produced works of such creativity that they stand in contrast with what is popular at the time and becomes forerunners of what is to come. I would characterize Kaufman’s late style in that category.

Kaufman has also used his imagination to directly address particular social or ecological issues, such as Nonresistance and Responsibility, Theology for an Nuclear Age, and his essays on ecological consciousness and the human niche in the ecological order. In these books and articles, he followed his teacher H. Richard Niebuhr’s example of treading between theology and ethics to offer pragmatic wisdom and moral guidance.

Kaufman has not created a particular school of thought. It is hard to generalize what his students are doing for they are so different in their theological trajectories. Many of his students have continued his legacy of posing radical questions to the theological tradition and breaking new grounds.

I would like to illustrate this by citing the works by some of his students of color and international students. For example, Anthony Pinn finds Kaufman’s definition of theology as a self-conscious human construction useful for broadening the nature and tasks of Black theology. He has just published a new volume on an African American humanist theology, entitled The End of God-talk.

Several of his Indian students, such as Christopher Duraisingh, M. Thomas Thangarai, and Sathianathan Clarke have used what they have learned from Kaufman to engage Indian cultures and religions. In fact, Kaufman delivered his famous essay on “Christian Theology as Imaginative Construction” in Bangalore, India, in 1976. Sathianathan Clarke has developed a Dalit theology, using the drum as a metaphor for Christ in Dalits and Christianity.

I have worked on postcolonial feminist theology for many years. With Joerg Rieger, I co-authored the newly-released book Occupy Religion, which presents a theology of the multitude.

Kaufman was a past President of the American Academy of Religion. He was a mentor, wise counselor, and friend to many colleagues in the academy.

As we remember his legacy, I want to tell you the story of the last time that I have seen him. I went to his office in order to send him a copy of the book Empire and the Christian Tradition, which I have co-edited. The book was dedicated with gratitude to our teachers. He was one of the persons to whom I wanted to dedicate the book. He was delighted to receive the book. In the course of our discussion, he said that theology should expand people’s horizons and not erects a fence to protect a narrow tradition. This was the Kaufman I would always cherish and remember because from him, I have received “overflowed blessings.”

* From remarks given at the panel “In Face of Gordon D. Kaufman: A Legacy for Theology,” at the annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion, Chicago, November 17, 2012.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Asian Americans and Presidential Election

Four years ago, during Barack Obama’s first run for president, the Asian American community was very excited. After all, Obama has an Indonesian stepfather and has spent part of his childhood in Jakarta, Indonesia.

Obama’s half-sister Maya Soetoro-Ng married a Chinese Canadian Konrad Ng (吴加儒). She was instrumental in galvanizing the Asian American community leaders and soliciting their support in 2008.

This time around, there are far less reports of Soetoro-Ng or others in the Obama camp organizing the Asian American community and courting their votes.

According to a recent survey of Asian Americans, roughly 43% of them will vote for Obama, 24% will vote for Mitt Romney, and 33% are undecided. Asian Americans are predominantly Democratic (43% as opposed to 17% Republican).

Asian Americans, a fast-growing racial group, are very diverse. Among them the Chinese are the largest group (22%), followed by Indians (20%), Filipinos (18%), Vietnamese (11%), Koreans (10%), Japanese (5%), and Pakstanis and Cambodians (6%).

Wei Bizhou, a columnist of the World Journal Magazine, said that both the Democratic and Republic Party have not campaigned hard among Asian Americans. Wei offered several reasons for this. Asian Americans make up only about 4% of the population and most of them are first-generation immigrants. Their low levels of political participation hinder their political influence.

The presidential contest has focused on a handful of swing states. Asian Americans tend to live in metropolitan areas, such as New York and San Francisco, and the population of Asian Americans in these swing states is rather small.

Wei reported that Indian Americans are most supportive of Obama (68%), followed by Koreans and Japanese (both 49%), and Chinese (43%). In comparison, 38% of Filipinos support Romney, 29% Japanese, 21% Chinese, and 20 % Koreans.

Indian Americans have much less language barriers compared with other Asian ethnic groups. They have increased their influences and visibilities in American politics. The two Indian-American governors, Bobby Jindal of Louisiana and Nikki Haley of South Carolina are considered Republican rising stars. Jindal has even been suggested as a vice-presidential contender.

Very little is known about how religion has influenced Asian Americans’ political preferences. In her chapter on “Asian Americans, Religion, and the American Presidency” in the book Religion, Race, and the American Presidency, Professor So Young Kim offers some interesting observations. She notes that Asian Americans are highly diverse in terms of religious beliefs and associations. They are also the most secular racial group in American society (20% compared to 4% for the whites, 2% for blacks, and 12% for Hispanics).

She notes that there is a high degree of correlation between the lack of political party identification and secularism among Asian Americans. “For Asian Americans, 37% of those who profess no religion are political nonidentifiers,” she writes.

In the 2000 presidential election, the voting rate for Asian Americans was 45%. The highest turnout rate was found among Christians (49%) and the highest nonvoting rate was found among Muslims (78%). The support for Al Gore, Kim says, was generally high among those with non-Christian religious beliefs (Hindus and Buddhists), while George W. Bush won the biggest support from evangelical Christians.

Another variable is that those who identify themselves as Asian Americans rather than a specific Asian ethnic group (say Korean American) show a significantly higher level of interest in American politics and activism.

In this current presidential election, Asian Americans can still affect the outcome if they turn out to vote, especially in the swing states of Nevada where Asian Americans make up 9% of the population, Florida (3%), and Virginia (7%). After all, in 2008, Obama won Florida by only 2.5%.