Today’s seminaries face the necessary task of de-centering white theology and scholarship and moving toward a holistic multicultural Christianity.
By Justin Nitta
My Million Dollar Question
My four-year M.Div. degree is coming to a close, and it has me feeling a tad nostalgic. The program has been an enjoyable four years. I can say that I have grown into myself and into where God is calling me to ministry, made friends, and had difficult theological discussions with them. All good stuff. I loved my time there but, having seen the reality of how unseen Asian Americans are, I asked myself a question.
How many of the required books which I needed to read for my degree were written by Asians or Asian Americans?
A simple question, but by no means an unimportant one. I set down and looked over every single one of my syllabi and totaled up the list of books that I was required to read for seminary. Over the 28 courses that I took—deciding to exclude preaching and language classes since those textbooks do not have as much variety—there were a total of 115 required books.
Only 5 books, around 4% of the 115 books were written by Asians or Asian Americans. Of those, 2 of them were fiction. Another was an optional book on a list from which the student needed to pick one book as a requirement.
Only two books, less than 2% of my M.Div., were required books written by Asians or Asian Americans that dealt explicitly with theology or ministry in some regards. One of these books was assigned in a class taught by an Asian American on Christianity and race. Even then, these “required” books were in electives. They were already declared optional to begin with. No books explicitly dealing with theology or ministry written by Asians or Asian Americans were required for any “core” courses for my M.Div. degree.
Asians and Asian Americans are the second-highest demographic at the seminary I attend. Many of these students come from various countries across Asia, and many are Asian American. So why such a discrepancy in representation?
Where Are We Locating Theological Education?
The loss of teaching Asian American theology and theological history when there are so many Asians enrolled and taking classes cannot be overstated. It continually enforces a view of Christian history that starts with the Patristics, maybe takes a quick peek at Aquinas, jumps straight to the Reformation, then slowly sets the stage for the Revolutionary War, the founding of the US, and now here we are. We forget, for instance, that—although debated—church tradition has the Apostle Thomas making his way to modern-day India. We focus so heavily on Protestant history that we turn a blind eye to the struggles that Japanese Catholics had in their homeland during the Edo period. Even the beginning of Christianity saw much of its expansion take place in Central Asia.
We have forgotten that these places exist outside of white history. Seminaries have lost the ability to tell their stories, lost their significance.
Now I go to a seminary that has connections to the Dutch Reformed church. Understandably, many of the books I read are by people also connected to the Dutch Reformed Church. I also want to say that despite this connection, my professors did an excellent job of attempting to introduce perspectives that were not Dutch and/or Reformed. However, the seminary’s connection to a historically white denomination does little for its Asian students, many of whom decide to become ordained ministers. The religious education that is passed down to them explicitly comes out of a history that is defined by whiteness.
This reveals an attitude inherent in our religious education that is not addressed when we talk about spaces of whiteness. The educational backbone of our ministry and theology largely ignores Asian voices. It continues to perpetuate the idea that the only ideas worth studying come from white history. We communicate this subtly by choosing the same white authors for our students to read; 92 of my 115 required books are written by white authors, the majority male. While I appreciate Calvin, there are only so many times across so many classes that I can read the same excerpt from the Institutes.
Worse than that, it implicitly communicates to Asian and Asian American students that our modes of thinking and being do not matter. It conveys that to truly serve the American church, you must cast off your Asianness because that is not how we do ministry. We can see this implicitly when so many international students, Asian students included, believe that a seminary degree from an American seminary is the height of ministry education.
From Silence to Acceptance
The seeds of my initial question entered my mind much earlier than seminary. I am very thankful for an English professor at Trinity International University who assigned Silence by Shūsaku Endō. Silence is a fictional book about the martyrdom of the Japanese church. I was unfamiliar with it and quickly googled the book and discovered that Endō was a Christian. He wrote with explicitly Christian themes and narratives, and in that way that he begs you to ask theological questions. Today it remains one of my favorite novels, but the moment I started reading Silence there was a deep sadness that took me a couple of years to identify.
This was the first book I had ever read by a Japanese Christian. At the age of 19, I remember thinking, “I didn’t know Asians could write about Christianity.”
That is what is communicated to Asian students when we do not intentionally put together ministry and theological resources that highlight the breadth and wonder of Asian theology.
I am still on a journey to find Asian theological voices, but I have found a few; many of whom have contributed in some way, shape, or form to AACC. As a Japanese American and someone who, as my wife puts it, “loves old dead guys,” I have found particular comfort in the writings of Kosuke Koyama. But searching for yourself entails a certain amount of personal responsibility that someone needs to take on to discover these authors.
I want our seminary students and those studying theology to be exposed to these Asian voices early and often. As an outgoing seminary student, I would love to see a world where not only is there a place to train Asian American theologians in our seminaries but also where the broader seminary can read about and discuss our contributions to the church and its history. After all, isn’t that a more accurate picture of the church and the Kingdom of God? Until then, I grieve the state of seminaries, because it does not address my needs in the church. It does not address the needs of many Asian Americans learning to be ministers. It seems partial and distorted.
I admit that things are slowly changing. Both Fuller Seminary and Princeton Seminary have programs dedicated to giving Asian Americans ministry and theological tools centered around an Asian American identity. Many others are attempting to follow with similar programs and degrees.
The Task Ahead
There’s a monumental task ahead of us, the task of de-centering the narrative of where Christianity’s theological and historical power comes from. When we allow the white voice to dictate what and whom to study, we force Asians and other people of color to inherently think that their cultures or perspectives do not matter. It happened to me, and I’m sure it’s happened to many others in seminary and theology.
We need to de-center that narrative. The history of Christianity didn’t start with the Reformation. Asians have had a central voice in Christianity almost since its formation. You have a voice in the future of Christianity. It’s still an uphill battle, but until we have racial equity within our theology, we should all continue to seek and learn from Christianity’s broader history. A history that does not shy away from highlighting women or people of color as prophetic voices in Christianity. A holistic Christianity. A loving Christianity. Let’s learn from that Christianity.
Photo by Jonathan Daniels on Unsplash
Justin Nitta is a M.Div. student at Calvin Theological Seminary where he anticipates graduating in Spring 2021. He has a B.A. in both theology and philosophy from Trinity International University. Justin currently serves as the Advancement Coordinator at AACC. He lives in Chicago, IL with his wife, Abigail, and their son, Ryo. You can follow him on Instagram where you can get a healthy combination of Ryo, theology, and tabletop board games.