By Ruth Pham Jae
D
uring the last week of December 2022, my mother single-handedly volunteered herself to prepare Phở Bò (a Vietnamese beef noodle soup) for her church’s luncheon; host and cook for two dinner parties; host my family; my brother and his wife; and create her church’s New Year’s floral centerpiece. If anyone were to peer into this narrative, one might consider the sheer responsibility my mother put on herself as possibly burdensome and difficult. Perhaps in my mother’s cultural and spiritual worldview, the sacrifice (hy sinh) of her actions, when it benefits her family and church, are manifestations of her flourishing. It may seem the benefits outweigh the costs. Though my mother is many things, all worth admiring, her propensity to sacrifice embodies the traditional values and virtues of a Vietnamese Christian woman.
Such is the case for Vietnamese American churches, where sacrifice played a central role in its existence and longevity. Christian Vietnamese refugees who left their homeland longed to make sense of their displacement and saw the church beyond the role of a place of worship. They integrated a strong sense of community, holding onto the cultural identity and traditional values they embodied. Church, by extension, was really a larger family, where each person had a place to belong. Church became the means to flourish.
Vietnamese men and women went through extreme lengths to make something of themselves when they came with nothing to a foreign land they now called home. Such sacrifice is nothing to belittle; rather it became a mark of resilience, determination, and Christian faithfulness in the face of an unknown future. However, where sacrifice is necessary and admirable for one generation, the succeeding generation must weigh the costliness of sacrifice when the war time context for sacrifice no longer carries. And it is often the women who continue to carry that cost. Her sacrifice, for the benefit of the church and her family, may forfeit and diminish her individual needs and agency to meet the traditional cultural expectations which carry spiritual interpretations of character, virtue, and strength. Vietnamese Christian women may not readily express dissatisfaction with their role. It is not always black and white. To be a filial daughter, faithful wife, and an excellent mother are worthy desires and goals. The expression of sacrifice may come from sincere love. Given that church is an extension of these familial roles, this sacrifice through service meets spiritual expectations of godliness and goodness. She volunteers or is volunteered to check the spiritual and cultural box of appropriate Vietnamese Christian female virtue.
In 2016, I entered my last year of seminary and felt my time with the Vietnamese church and community ending. A couple years earlier, I felt an uncomfortable leading from God that my time with the church would come to a close and he would tell me when. I grieved the command. I had enthusiastically given my youth to the church. I found God in service. I answered every call. I volunteered because I believed serving God was the height of my faith expression. There was a mixture of sincere conviction and naivete, but hiding in the layers was a feeling that no matter how much I did, it didn’t seem enough. It felt like I could not validate my value unless I gave more. I felt like I touched the edge of a box I couldn’t see.
That fall, at a regional church retreat celebrating forty years since the founding of my church community, the speaker, who was the former district head and original founder of the church, was excited by the growth in the region. He urged every leader and pastor to join him in the front. He wanted all of us to witness and encourage the intergenerational leadership represented throughout the region. As I stood up, ready to join the throng of people making their way down to the front–leader friends and pastors I respected and esteemed–I realized not one single woman stood up to join the men who proudly stood side by side. Emotional and hopeful, the speaker and congregation cheered the present and future male leaders of the church.
Women are highly encouraged to sacrifice, volunteer, and give their time; and their value is often proportionate to how much they give. Limitless in giving, but limited in power and authority. That experience made me understand there would never truly be a place for me in this community that would support me as a female leader, teacher, and pastor with a calling. I may have done as much work as my peers in leadership; but because I was a woman, the affirmation of my spiritual calling would never be recognized and blessed by the community. Any investment or interest in my growth would be limited to how much I could give. I realized what God hinted to me meant it was time to submit to the next season that took me outside the Vietnamese Christian community, and to leave behind the box I spent years trying to fit in, so that I could continue pursuing God and my calling.
My mother experienced her calling towards missional work before she became a mother. Gifted in evangelism, teaching, and preaching, she actively participated in serving both the local and global church community. My father did not share the giftings or calling like my mother. Perhaps my mother’s calling pushed my father, and he joined my mother in the mission field. But to the church and the organization, the expectation to lead the endeavor was prominently placed on my father when they became missionaries in Taiwan. It was my father who was asked to preach, sharing their vision and mission. It was my father who was given a pastoral title from which he served his local church in Texas after COVID-19 and health complications interrupted the continuation of their missions work in Taiwan. When I asked my mother how she felt about my father’s more prominent role, she responded, “That is the way things are.” Perhaps to her, serving God was the only expectation; all other matters fell to the side of unimportance.
Armed with the rationalization that service is the only important thing, that titles do not matter, and that being equipped with position and authority is folly, Vietnamese Christian women along with their male counterparts are both aware and have accepted a reality that gender roles are clearly defined within the church. Men may benefit from their service with titles and positional authority to further equip and empower them for ministry, but women do not. Women whose husbands are pastors and leaders are expected to share the spiritual burden in the spirit of service and dedication. And service may take precedence over their own family. Women who are seen with leadership capacity, demonstrating a faithful attitude and posture, will take on multiple responsibilities regardless of apparent abilities or personal desire, to carry the longevity of the ministry they serve. Single young women carry the more difficult tasks, taking on the responsibilities either unwanted by others too busy or with positions too high; they do not reap the benefit and recognition the overlooked work produces. At the heart of it, women sacrifice themselves and their resources to support others without being supported themselves or empowered to do the work, even if they believe in the vision and mission of the ministry and church.
The succeeding second generation may face legitimate concerns like fewer resources in people and finances, along with a shrinking leadership. They may also experience less consideration in financial decisions since that age group is still developing their economic power. And they experience cultural differences due to language and confusion over their bicultural identity. Although ageism inhibits the freedom of agency for second generation leaders and pastors, men will still enjoy the legitimacy of leading a ministry with recognition, titles, and financial support or investment. They will be given the most room to speak into the mission and vision of the church. I find it is the women who are given little to no room to speak in these spaces despite their ceaseless contributions to the Vietnamese American church. Even if most Vietnamese women accept this position wholeheartedly, the truth that this is the way things are, in my mother’s words, points to a reality that is decidedly not rooted in Christian spirituality, alone, but a patriarchal cultural system rooted in Confucianism since Chinese colonialism in Vietnam’s history. What followed in a history of war and conflict further cemented the necessity of women’s sacrifice for country and family. For the Christian Vietnamese woman, church is added to the list.
A flourishing church does not mean a church devoid of problems and issues. It does not mean there will be no suffering in unknown times. However, a church that flourishes will require a different kind of sacrifice. Flourishing requires the participation of both men and women. It requires the young and old. We must reconsider the cultural values we internalize and manifest, and hold it up to Scripture and Jesus’ example who demonstrated what a life following God really looked like. The rigidity of a traditional Vietnamese Christian woman who bears the cost of sacrifice without empowerment and support cannot be the only expression of her identity and offerings. For the Vietnamese American church to flourish, she must also flourish as well.
In the Jewish shame and honor culture, Jesus challenged the cultural norms and expectations of his day by the way he honored women and made room for women to partner with him in his ministry. Honoring is rooted in Old Testament righteousness or in Hebrew, tzedeqah (công bình); and tzedeqah had to do with acts of generosity. Contextually, tzedeqah is often discussed in the context of Old Testament laws where provisions are redistributed to the poor, widows, orphans, and aliens in society. But the spirit behind generosity demonstrated a social dynamic that recognized people’s worth and honored their value which God first established at the beginning of creation in Genesis 1:27. Generosity was a means to restore the dignity and value of an individual so that they can participate and contribute within their design and ability to the family, community, and society. Jesus generously utilized his position and power by demonstrating this restorative dynamic to women and people on the margins of society. But it doesn’t end there. Jesus also demonstrates chesed (nhân từ), a Hebrew term often translated as mercy or loving kindness. Chesed follows the same spirit of generosity, but a generosity so extraordinary, the giver gives to the point of being disadvantaged so that the receiver can be restored and given a new life. In Romans 5:6–8, Jesus’ extraordinary act of chesed was demonstrated on the cross. In setting aside his rights as the Son of God and giving his life to be a curse on the cross, we can become reconciled to God and to one another.
A flourishing church must operate in the same spirit of generosity like Jesus. It is how we can honor and demonstrate love for one another. Generosity will cost us something. You might think Christians and churches give so much already in finances and provision. I affirm that it can be the output of generosity. But God asks the question: What will you do with the power I’ve given you? Power may be your voice, spiritual authority, positional authority, knowledge, skills, personal rights, time, emotional and relational availability, or attitude. Generosity understands that our power does not belong to us but comes from Jesus. In John 5:30, Jesus says, “I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me.” When Jesus, out of chesed, set a cursed people free to know and be with him and one another, his generosity and love had no limitation on who was the recipient. It is not up to us to determine who deserves our generosity and love; after all, Jesus extended such generosity to us. It will require all of us to sacrifice in the same spirit of generosity so that together, even in our differences, we can experience true fellowship that comes from honoring the imago dei in each other. And let us exercise intentional consideration for those who may historically and culturally be found on the margins. May our generosity look to Jesus who modeled it for us.
Can the church move to display extraordinary generosity like Jesus whom we worship? Can we reconsider the places where culture within our churches, meant to color the vibrancy of God’s creativity and diversity, undergo a serious evaluation and possible surgery in submission to the character of Jesus? Perhaps it’s time to honestly reflect and repent for how we’ve used our power and where we’ve failed to move in the spirit of generosity. After all, Jesus charged us to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love your neighbor as yourself.” Such generosity, in a spiritual act of worship, becomes the life-giving waters for churches to flourish. A church does not flourish where only a few benefit. When we recognize each individual has the capacity to participate in God’s kingdom in the uniqueness of their God-given design and story, we all benefit; we all flourish together.
photo credit: Etienne Girardet
Ruth Pham Jae graduated from Millersville University with a teaching degree and from Alliance Theological Seminary with an MDiv. in Old Testament studies. She is currently living in LA with her husband and two kids. Ruth is part of The Honor Summit, a nonprofit Christian organization for Asian-American women, designing cohorts for a deeper living. She has a passion to see people experience life transformative intimacy with Jesus.