It has long been noted that early Jesus followers were not persecuted because they privately professed Jesus as Lord and Savior of their hearts.
Rather, they were persecuted because they publicly professed Jesus as Lord of ALL. Stated differently, Jesus’ reign extends beyond the walls of the early house churches––and certainly beyond the walls of the human heart. And in the Roman Empire, to suggest this reality that Jesus was Lord was to suggest that Caesar was not!
These titles “lord” (kýrios) and “savior” (sōtēr) were already part of the political Roman vernacular before Jesus was born. Their purpose was to propagate Caesar as the political ruler (“lord”) who ensures quality of life (“savior”) for those under his rule. Thus, the New Testament authors took these existing political titles “lord” and “savior” and applied them to Jesus.
Also “the good news” or “the gospel” (euangelion) was borrowed from political verbiage announcing the birth of new Caesars. If these professions of faith were constructed using the political language of the day, then they reveal having that political society as part of their audience. From its very conception, then, the message of “the good news” or “the gospel” (euangelion) established a dialogue with the principalities, powers, and polity of Rome.[1]
But a dialogue with Roman polity does not necessarily equate to partisan politics to overthrow Rome. As Christian ethicists Stanley Hauerwas writes, “The proponents of ‘political theology’ are therefore right to claim that the meaning and truth of Christian convictions cannot be separated from their political implications. They are wrong, however, to associate ‘politics’ only with questions of social change. Rather the ‘political’ question crucial to the church is what kind of community the church must be to be faithful to the narratives central to Christian convictions.” [2] It is the narrative of Scripture that already speaks to the political and spiritual powers—especially when they don’t reflect God’s justice. The Christian community is simply called to live in accordance with this biblical narrative; rendering biblical faith neither apolitical nor partisan.
Here is one example from Scripture. Paul and Silas get accused by certain Jews in Thessalonica that, “These men who have caused trouble all over the world have now come here…They are all defying Caesar’s decrees, saying that there is another king, one called Jesus” (Acts 17:6-7). It should be clear from this example that during the time of the early church, religion and state were not seen as uninvolved entities the way we often assume today.
Contemporary American Evangelicals take for granted that “church” and “state” became separate entities through the centuries. It wasn’t until the European Enlightenment of the eighteenth century––itself a byproduct of the Protestant Reformation––that shook Europe out of its Christendom foundations and sought to separate church from state.
As Hmong American Christians, we’re often not told how faith became privatized within the church and the home.
However, as stated above, biblical faith reveals a good news or gospel proclamation (euangelion) announcing Jesus as “Lord” (kýrios) and “Savior” (sōtēr) piercing the public realm – though not imposing itself onto the public realm.
For most Hmong American Christians, the idea of professing and working out our faith in the public realm can be daunting for several reasons. And yet, writing in the light of 1 Peter 2:9 [3], missiologist Lesslie Newbigin reminds us that: “The congregation has to be a place where its members are trained, supported, and nourished in the exercise of their parts of the priestly ministry in the world. The preaching and teaching of the local church have to be such that it enables members to think out the problems that face them in their secular work in the light of their Christian faith.” [4]
Let me propose two interrelated obstacles that challenge Hmong American Christians and churches from bringing their faith into the public: (1) The public realm is where Hmong Americans experience both implicit and explicit marginalization by the majority culture; and (2) Hmong American Christian pastors and leaders often feel overwhelmed with internal matters of church ministry (in part because of our strong family orientation) that we cannot seriously consider ministering outside of the church.
Let me offer further comments on each of these two obstacles below, respectively:
To the first point, Hmong Americans experience marginalization in the majority of public spaces whether or not they profess Christ. This marginalization of the poor, the weak, and the downtrodden will one day cease with the consummation of Jesus’ reign on earth. In reflecting Christ’s reign, it becomes important for the people of Christ to stand against structures of marginalization in this present age.
Additionally, this marginalization has created a debilitating effect on our individual and collective psyche beyond our recognition––even hurting the body of Christ. I have heard a number of Hmong American Christian leaders say they don’t feel as competent as white American pastors and theologians because they perceive white Christians to be more knowledgeable and thus more powerful and influential.
This mentality is a broken side effect of our marginalization. On the one hand, it clothes itself in a type of humility that suggests God can use the weak, untrained, and marginalized (which God certainly can and does do). On the other hand, it hinders the creative impetus that Hmong American churches need in reviving and equipping next generation Hmong American believers. It keeps most Hmong American Christians residing within their ethnic specific context instead of venturing out, partnering with, and innovating alongside the larger body of Christ––even when they feel disconnected with current first generation Hmong American trends.
To the second point, New Testament scholar Joel B. Green makes the observation that the church often assumes it must get itself “right” before it can engage in God’s mission beyond church walls. However, Green suggests that the Book of Acts reveals a church who will never get itself right unless it engages with God’s mission. I offer this as an alternative to the perspective that many Hmong American Christians hold—namely, that we are already spread so thin, we don’t have the people, time, and resources to invest “out there.”
A careful (albeit difficult) self-examination may lead us to discover that our marginalization keeps us inwardly focused, which further desensitizes and detaches our faith from the public realities “out there.” Within this sociocultural cycle, it becomes almost natural to dismiss matters of peacemaking, reconciliation, and public justice as irrelevant to “the gospel.” However, this overly privatized version of “the gospel” divorced from public matters of justice is not how first century Christians in the Roman Empire understood “the gospel” (euangelion).
What does it mean for us to proclaim in word and deed that Jesus is Lord (kýrios) and Savior (sōtēr) today and not the American political systems and rulers? For Hmong American Christians (where America is now our permanent home), I suggest this begins with a reassessment of our identity and purpose as the Church understood by who we are in Christ and what God in Christ is doing “out there” in the American public as part of God’s redemption of creation. God’s mission in Jesus Christ has always been to redeem and restore more of humanity through redeemed and restored humans, that is, the Church. This central mission can be traced throughout the entire biblical narrative from Genesis to Revelation (e.g., Gen 12:1-3; Isa 42:6-7; Matt 28:19-20; John 20:21; Acts 1:8; Rom 9-11; 2 Cor 5:18-20; Col 1:20-27; 1 Pet 2:9, 12; Rev 21:1-4, 24).
What would it look like for future Hmong American churches to corporately live out this biblical narrative in both private and public spaces?
We don’t always have to march our congregations to the streets every time a public injustice occurs. But we do have to recognize that our faith––if it is a biblical faith–– inherently impacts matters of public justice that Jesus, the Lord of ALL, is deeply concerned with. In the larger mission that God has for the church, we are called to do more than reflect public justice as part of God’s redemption of creation, but we are not called to do any less than this.
Der holds a B.A. in Christian Ministry from Trinity International University in Deerfield, IL, and an M.A. in Theology with an emphasis in biblical studies from Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, CA. He has spoken at conferences on topics relating to multi-ethnic ministry, musical worship, and racial/ethnic identity and the Christian faith. Der is married to Alice. They have a daughter, Penny, and a son, Judah.
Footnotes:
[1] For more on these common Greek terms and additional terms associated with Caesar, e.g., “son of God” (huios theou), “justice” (dikaiosuné), or “peace” (eiréné), see Christopher Bryan, Render to Caesar: Jesus, The Early Church, and The Roman Superpowers (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2005), especially pp. 82-83.
[2] Stanley Hauerwas, A Community of Character: Toward a Constructive Christian Social Ethic (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981), 2.
[3] “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Pet. 2:9, NIV).
[4] Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing, 1989), 230.