Celebrating Chinese New Year reminds us of a way we can show love and acceptance–inviting all to the table–in the hopes that we would utilize hospitality to help bridge divisions in our country and in the church.
By Roy Mong
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or a Chinese American kid growing up in the suburbs of Plano, TX, Chinese New Year was the main holiday that our family looked forward to every year. Sure, we’d participate in the American traditions of Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc., but those weren’t big deals to us. Chinese New Year was a different story – we’d go all out.
Growing up, though, it was difficult to explain this to my non-Asian friends. They couldn’t understand what was so important about Chinese New Year, and even I had difficulty explaining all the elements that made it such a memorable and important holiday. Looking back now, I think I struggled to capture how Chinese New Year highlights the lost art of hospitality.
In an interview with Rosaria Butterfield centered around her book, The Gospel Comes with a House Key: Practicing Radically Ordinary Hospitality in Our Post-Christian World, she says,
“Counterfeit hospitality seeks to impress and entertain. Counterfeit hospitality separates host and guest in ways that allow no blending of the two roles. It separates people into noble givers and needy receivers, or hired givers and privileged receivers. Counterfeit hospitality comes with strings; Christian hospitality comes with strangers becoming neighbors becoming family of God.”
Strangers becoming neighbors becoming family – Chinese New Year is a beautiful depiction of the pinnacle of hospitality that can help our Christian brothers and sisters reclaim an understanding of what the experience of hospitality should feel like. Chinese New Year brings three key elements of hospitality to the forefront: connection, rest, and dignity.
Connection
Tim Chester introduces readers to A Meal with Jesus by saying,
“Think about your dining room or kitchen table. What dramas have been played out around this simple piece of furniture? Day by day you’ve chatted with your family, sharing news, telling stories, and poking fun. Values have been imbibed. Guests have been welcomed. People have found a home. Love has blossomed. Perhaps you remember important decisions made round the table. Perhaps you were reconciled with another over a meal.”
The picture he serves up is a sharp contrast to today’s American culture where we eat quickly, on-the-go, or according to a diet. In fact, this Washington Post article from 2018 noted that around 45 million Americans go on a diet each year. As a nation, we play out the counterfeit hospitality roles of, in the words of Rosaria Butterfield, “hired givers and privileged receivers.” Dieting typically means we make our own needs and choices the highest priority and expect others to cater to those needs.
Sometimes that’s unavoidable as people have true, specific dietary needs. However, what gets lost in the glutted farmer’s market of new dieting fads is the fact that true hospitality includes receiving as well as giving. Jesus was willing to receive from Levi (Luke 5) and lets the woman at Simon’s house wash his feet (Luke 7). He received gladly from Mary Magdalene, Joanna the wife of Chuza, Susanna, and many others on a continual basis (Luke 8).
Chinese New Year, in its full form, is an affair that goes on for many days. Even though my family only celebrated it on a single day, it wasn’t just a part of the day, it was the day. We spent all day with relatives and friends – way before the food was ready and far after all the food was gone. The point was to fully enjoy one another’s company. Lively conversations lasted long into the night, games were played repeatedly, and laughter filled the rooms.
The inability to receive hospitality is an inability to receive friendship. The ability to receive hospitality fosters intimate connection, which forges a bond not easily broken. Every Chinese New Year, these bonds were renewed between family, friends, and guests alike.
Rest
Dietrich Bonhoeffer says,
“The breaking of bread together has a festive quality. In the midst of the working day given to us again and again, it is a reminder that God rested after God’s work, and that the Sabbath is the meaning and the goal of the week with its toil. Our life is not only a great deal of trouble and hard work; it is also refreshment and joy in God’s goodness...God will not tolerate the unfestive, joyless manner in which we eat our bread with sighs of groaning, with pompous, self-important busyness, or even with shame. Through the daily meal God is calling us to rejoice, to celebrate in the midst of our working day.”
Chinese New Year marks the end of winter and the coming of spring, a symbol of hope and rejoicing in a new year. The reunion meal at the start of the New Year also represents this. You can always count on an epic feast fit for royalty. The meal carries that same festive quality that is meant to produce the joy that Bonhoeffer talks about.
Growing up, I remember we’d always have a bunch of bright orange tangerines sitting around to eat, to use as the centerpiece of the table, and to give to relatives as gifts. We’d have more jiaozi than you could count, and even if you felt like you were getting close to eating them all, there’d be another plate to take its place. The whole steamed fish would fill the house with a fragrance you couldn’t believe, and the nian gao to finish the meal would leave you so warm and satisfied that you felt like you were floating away on a cloud.
All of the careful, loving preparation with the cooking is meant to help us pause and linger with the people around us. The food is not meant to be fast, it’s meant to be enjoyed. The conversations aren’t meant to be shallow and polite, they’re meant to be deep and rich. The whole day is a reminder for us to rest, to slow down and cherish what we have as well as what we have to look forward to.
Dignity
Sadly, hospitality is not without its dark side. Hospitality withheld is a cruel, deafening statement that you are not welcome. Nothing echoes the loveless absence of hospitality like the “no blacks” signs that were littered across restaurant doors during the Jim Crow era of legalized segregation. Asian Americans can empathize with the loneliness of being excluded from hospitality.
In the same decade as the Civil Rights movement, MSG (monosodium glutamate) was racially coined as Chinese Restaurant Syndrome, said to cause headaches, nausea, and chest pain. Though the myths of MSG side-effects have long been debunked, a low view of Chinese food is a pervasive racist belief still held by many. Jock Zonfrillo demonstrated this in the most recent season of MasterChef Australia when he commented that “many Asian cuisines don’t automatically lend themselves to a fine dining dish.”
Adam Liaw, winner of season two of MasterChef Australia, fired back in a tweet, “Asian cuisines are full of fine dining. Kaiseki, Confucian cuisine, Thai/Vietnamese court cuisine, almost any regional cuisine in China, Peranakan food... It's just that the Eurocentric conceptualization of Michelin, World's 50 Best etc. constantly ignores it.” A brief look at the current Michelin-starred landscape confirms Adam’s assertion. There are currently 129 three-starred Michelin restaurants in the entire world, only one of which is categorized as a Chinese restaurant, which is Sazenka in Tokyo, Japan.
Rather than trying to change people’s minds about Chinese food by force, Chinese New Year is an example of showing people what it truly is by love. It’s a place where all are welcome at the table. See, if you’re at a Chinese New Year celebration, you’re not just a guest. You’re a part of the family. You don’t just eat jiaozi, you spend all day together making the jiaozi. You don’t just show up, you drop big bucks spreading around the hong bao to show honor, love, and generosity. It’s not just a meal, you play mahjong afterwards and spend all night enjoying one another’s company.
To me, that kind of true hospitality brings more love and joy than any other restaurant or party experience. This year, I am thankful for the ways in which my Chinese heritage has reminded me of the connection, rest, and dignity that table fellowship can bring. I am hopeful that as we celebrate Chinese New Year, we can invite our brothers and sisters into a place where love will blossom, where guests will be welcomed, and where people can find a home.
Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash
Roy Mong is a leadership coach and writer. He believes that the good news should truly be good news to those who hear it and seeks to exemplify that in his coaching and writing. He lives in Dallas, TX, with his wife, daughter, and second daughter on the way. You can see more of his work on his website or follow him on Instagram and Twitter.