By Katie Nguyen
I
’m a mixed Vietnamese/White woman from Houston, Texas with family roots that go back to the beautiful jungles of Vietnam as well as to the rustling cornfields of Iowa. My father’s family, the Vietnamese part of me, came as refugees to America back in the early ‘70s. My mom’s side of the family on the other hand has a history of resilience while living in the States: my grandmother lived through her dad making it work through the Great Depression and wound up in Texas where she was eventually left to figure out how to raise four kids on her own.
When I was four years old, my biological father and mom divorced. My mom retained primary custodial rights, while my father was given visitation rights. As part of the resulting chaos that often accompanies divorce, we fell completely out of contact with the Vietnamese side of my family. On the other hand, there’s been a lot of loss throughout the history of my mom’s side of the family, leaving just my grandmother, mom, sister, and myself as the remnant.
With us being such a small unit, we always had a strong emphasis on “chosen family,” particularly within the family of God. For us, the family of God wasn’t just theory, it was literal. Meaning, it was not uncommon for us to adopt someone into our family or for me to adopt myself into my friends’ families through intentional, deep relationship. To me, getting to know and love a person well has always carried with it more than just getting to know just that person; it’s also meant getting to know and love where and who they come from. For example, technically speaking, I’m the big sister in my family. However, through the family of God, I have multiple “chosen” big sisters not through blood relation, but through our relationship and commitment to each other in Christ.
Chosen family looks like a lot of things, but over the years it’s been the little, regular moments that have spoken the loudest within the realm of relationships. Moments like visiting my friend’s parents when I’m home for the holidays, even when my friend isn’t home; walking in unannounced into a chosen big sister’s house and having a deep conversation while five kids of wildly different ages are running around; sitting on the couch with another chosen big sister while her kids are yelling about Minecraft in the corner. It’s these kinds of moments that deepen the sort of love that builds familiarity, safety, and trust.
However, the holidays have also always carried with them a twinge of pain in the back of my heart and mind. Particularly, the latter few years of my mom’s marriage to my ex-stepdad. My home wasn’t really a place I wanted to be, and the three weeks for Christmas break while my friends (who I considered my chosen family) all went on trips or to family reunions with their “real” families only served to emphasize the tension of feeling left behind by a significant part of my community. That tension carried through into college when the same thing continued to happen: the people with whom I felt truly seen and known by (my chosen family) all dispersed across the country for break. Even now, as an adult, holding the tension between wanting to spend time with my entire family, both chosen and “real,” is a tension I struggle to hold.
It’s always been during the holiday season when I’ve seen and felt the strongest divide between real and chosen family ties. I would watch as my chosen family would go off with their real families while I stayed home with mine. It’s also this tension that’s encouraged me to ask and wonder, “How can we honor and celebrate both in this season and beyond?” Even now, I feel the tension of figuring out ways other than just the now-popularized Friendsgivings to spend intentional, meaningful time with the entirety of my family: those to whom I’m related and those whom I’ve chosen. How can we intentionally create moments between the entirety of the family of God–which includes our real and chosen families–to celebrate and be with one another?
Our God is a relational and communal God who created us to share in those blessings. Some of the most relational, valuable moments I’ve spent in the holiday season with different parts of my chosen family have been when one of us invites the other into an already-present tradition: Christmas movie night, making puppy chow and my ba noi’s eggrolls, attending a trail of lights, etc.
The concept of God’s people upholding and valuing relationships across the entirety of the family of God during specified times of celebration of who he is and what he’s done for us is not an abnormal one. The feasts and celebrations of the Israelites were not a time when family units retreated to their individual spaces; they were a time of communal celebration and feasting together, as God’s chosen people part of one family. God’s chosen.
Jesus, God in the flesh, Emmanuel, Creator and Lord of all came to earth and did ministry in community. He didn’t come to earth to do ministry as a lone maverick. In fact, there’s a story in Matthew 12 that shows us Jesus responding to his biological family asking to see him while he’s preaching and helping those in need (Matt 12:46-50). What results is that Jesus responds to the messenger who has come to tell him that his biological family, his mother and brothers, are wanting to talk to him. The way Jesus responds is revealing when he gestures towards his disciples, the ones doing life and good work with him, and says, “‘Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.’ (Matthew 12:49-50).”
Jesus didn’t refer to his disciples as his “brother and sister and mother” as a trite greeting in passing. He meant it. Those following him, living life with him, and working with him are his family in a very real way. Brian Wintle put it this way in the South Asia Bible Commentary, “It is important to note that his words are not completely negative. Jesus does not exclude his family; rather, he broadens it to include whoever does the will of my Father in heaven.”
In light of the way in which Jesus expanded the understanding of who his family was, I invite you to expand your understanding of who you consider to be family this holiday season. Jesus shared himself indiscriminately and freely with all who would have him. The holidays present a unique opportunity to extend a hand of hospitality and welcome to invite your own chosen family into family traditions of your own, and vice versa.
Katie is a bi-racial Vietnamese/White pastor, writer, & teacher who leads Sol Life, a joint Youth Ministry between two churches in the historically marginalized Eastside of Austin. She is currently completing an M.A. in Christian Leadership at Dallas Theological Seminary and earned her B.A. in English with teacher certification from Texas State University.