Asian American Christians are among the least politically engaged in the country. This needs to change.
By Joshua Wu
A
traditional refrain I hear from family, friends, and even strangers during Lunar New Year festivities is gong xi fa cai, a call for wealth and prosperity in the new year. Desiring a good life, economic prosperity, and social stability are not necessarily bad things. But as Christians, we need to balance seeking personal welfare with the biblical mandate to love our neighbors and seek the welfare of the communities around us.
Jeremiah 29 provides insight into how we can balance the pursuit of our individual good with the common good. After the Israelites were forcibly exiled to Babylon, some wanted to remain isolated from the foreign community around them. However, Jeremiah encourages the exiles to “build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease” (Jer. 29:5-6, ESV).
For most Asian Americans, the first part of this mandate is easy to follow. Our engagement and integration within local communities often provides opportunities for educational, economic, and social advancement.
But we fall short in fulfilling the last part of the mandate to “seek the welfare [shalom] of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (Jer. 29:7). Shalom here means welfare, but it can also be translated as peace, prosperity, safety, completeness, and well-being. It is not simply the absence of conflict, a negative peace, but a positive peace, where relationships are rightly ordered.
When there is shalom, all in the community can thrive and prosper. And while perfect shalom is only realized in Jesus, the Prince of shalom (Isa. 9:6), we can still pursue more just and merciful communities this side of heaven.
Christians disagree on what shalom looks like and how the church should best seek shalom. But we can all agree that our communities and country lack shalom. Taking individual action to pursue shalom is important, but we also need to participate in the civic and political spaces where shalom is most significantly negotiated, contested, and affirmed through policies and laws.
I have met few Asian American Christians who value politics in any meaningful way. Cultural and language barriers can make it difficult to engage politics, especially for first-generation immigrants. But many Asian American Christians I know also feel apprehension, apathy, and even a sense of pride that they can thrive regardless of policies or laws. They see politics as a way for those in need or suffering to seek help. If we are doing fine, goes the thinking, why bother?
National statistics on the political engagement, or lack thereof, of Asian American Christians, reflect similar trends. Data from the 2018 Cooperative Congressional Election Study (CCES) reveals how Asian American Christians lag in political engagement. Asian American Christians are as likely as other Americans to engage in cheap talk, following news, commenting, or sharing stories about politics on social media.
However, Asian American Christians are less likely to participate in political advocacy, such as attending a local political meeting, putting up a political sign, working for a candidate, attending political protests, contacting a public official, or donating money to a political candidate. While over one in three Americans (36 percent) and Christians (37 percent) engage in political advocacy, only one in four Asian American Christians do.
Image courtesy of Joshua Wu. Data source: 2018 Cooperative Congressional Election Study.
And Asian American Christians lag in the most important indicator of political engagement: voting. Despite the potential to significantly impact outcomes of many swing states, most Asian Americans don’t vote. In 2018, only 37 percent of Asian American Christians voted. By contrast, more than 52 percent of Americans voted, and nearly 56 percent of American Christians voted.
When we don’t vote, we choose to be silent in influencing local, state, and federal laws and policies that shape our communities. When we don’t vote, we demonstrate ambivalence toward the brokenness around us. When we don’t vote, we miss the opportunity to advocate for the poor, the marginalized, and the suffering among us. And when we don’t vote, we disobey the biblical call to seek shalom.
So, what are practical ways that we can repent from our apathy and inaction to take up the biblical call to seek the shalom of our community?
First, we need to learn about the barriers to shalom in our community. We could spend less time seeking our own entertainment and well-being, and spend more time learning about the challenges faced by our local communities, the policies and solutions that civic and political groups support, and the opportunities for everyday citizens to be involved. We do not need to look too far or too long to find needs, disparities, and brokenness that hinder shalom.
Second, we need to pray that God will move in us and in our community. Just as Joseph said that “God will give Pharaoh a favorable [shalom] answer” to his dream (Gen. 41:16, ESV), so through prayer can we better understand the shalom God calls us to build. We may be overwhelmed once we recognize the pervasive challenges and suffering in our communities. Prayer reminds us that our God is sovereign and omnipotent, and the ultimate giver of shalom. Prayer is also essential in reorienting our posture toward and perception of those around us. We probably aren’t as hostile toward communities around us as much as the Israelites were to the Babylonians, but prayer reminds us that we have received undeserved mercy and grace. This should compel us to be more caring and loving toward those around us, whom God also loves and are made in Imago Dei.
Third, we need to get involved. There are many ways to do so. In church, we need intentional discipleship and teaching about how biblical truths can translate into social concern and care—not as a substitute for the gospel, but as the inevitable outcome of gospel-transformed lives. We can educate others in our community about challenges too long ignored. We can consider how our churches can intentionally engage with and care for the neighborhoods we drive by and through. Or we can reach out to local community groups and political leaders to partner with them in addressing needs and disparities.
Finally, in this election season, we should resolve to educate ourselves and vote. This election may or may not be the most important election of our lives, but it is critical in determining the immediate future of our community, our neighbors, and our country. Learn about and pray for discernment to know which political candidates and policies will be effective in bringing shalom, and vote for them.
For Asian American Christians, seeking our own prosperity and welfare isn’t enough. Our neighbors and communities are hurting, struggling from legacies of systemic injustice and discrimination. The COVID-19 pandemic is exacerbating inequities in economic opportunity, healthcare, and social stability.
Before the pandemic, many Asian American Christians were already in positions of privilege and stability. In 2018, one in three Americans experienced a traumatic event such as job loss, divorce, being a victim of crime, or receiving emergency room treatment (CCES). By comparison, only 19 percent of Asian American Christians experienced any type of traumatic event. God has blessed us with opportunities and capacities to thrive, and we have worked hard to create stable communities where we can prosper and advance. Out of this privilege, blessing, and grace, we must respond, each in our own ways, embracing our responsibility as citizens of this country and an eternal kingdom.
This year, I resolve to take up the biblical call to advocate for the poor and downtrodden. I resolve to cast off apathy and commit to “act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with [our] God” (Mic. 6:8, ESV). I resolve to not only seek gong xi fai cai once a year for my family and friends, but to seek the well-being of my community all year round. And I commit to using my vote to advance shalom this year. I hope you’ll join me.
Joshua Su-Ya Wu is a husband, father, pastor's kid, and social scientist seeking to faithfully reflect Christ in all aspects of his life. He has a doctorate in Political Science from The Ohio State University, works in analytics and data science, and writes about data analytics at Reasonable Research and the intersection of faith and culture at Stuff I Didn't Learn in Church. He currently lives in Rochester New York with his wife and two kids, and can be reached on Linkedin or on Facebook.