on evangelism and colonialism
In the past three years, my eyes were certainly opened to new theoretical frameworks and bodies of knowledge. Studying international development as a Christian woman was especially challenging and enlightening - forcing me to deconstruct my own language and personal approach to the development praxis of my faith community.
Being in a large University which espouses a secular and liberal vision, I very quickly became familiar with such vernacular as colonial and neo-colonial, settler colonialism, white privilege, intersectionality, religious oppression, etc. etc. I soon came to realize these are fundamentally important concepts to understand and work through.
I would not say my school had a staunch anti-religious bias which Christian conservatives are quick to detect and disapprove of in contemporary academia. Religion was generally celebrated at McGill. Discriminatory practices were quickly condemned.
Yet, it would be dishonest of me to say that, over the course of my undergrad, I did not at times felt dismissed, ridiculed or even reproached about faith-based opinions informed by my understanding of biblical principles. In other words... pro-life feminism was viewed as an oxymoron, belief in gender differences as designed by God was viewed as toxic and illiberal essentialism, and on and on.
In development discourse, "Christian" settlers of past centuries are attributed to paternalistic and coercive development processes that failed to recognize the dignity of the populations they claimed to help. Such realities are difficult to swallow for those who follow Jesus, like me.
So, over the three years I spent at McGill, one particularly difficult tension for me to navigate was that of evangelism and colonialism.
How, as people of the Way, are we to share the gospel without espousing a paternalistic, colonial posture?
... Is evangelism in itself not an expression of colonialism?
Well, if you were to ask my professors and fellow classmates, I would guess a vast majority would say yes. Evangelism was, in fact, a large defense for the mistreatment of indigenous people around the world by European settlers--the powers who conquered and subjugated other nations to "develop" and "modernize" them. Missionaries violently imposed their worldview on entire people groups, ripping them from their cultures, families and ways of life 'in the name of Christ and His gospel.' They (mis)used the Word of God -meant to lessen the gap between Creator and human, and His very love letter to us -to justify the mistreatment of His children and His creation. They corrupted the Christian message to fit socio-cultural agendas geared toward assimilation, homogenization, segregation. This is what my ancestors in faith called 'evangelism'.
Not me.
But one thing, albeit uncomfortable for some, must be made clear. As a Christian, I am committed to the Great Commission. The spread of the gospel is something I deeply value, and I believe the world would be better for it. I believe there is salvation in no other name than the name of Christ. I wholeheartedly trust that Jesus is the source of love, freedom, belonging, peace, deliverance and forgiveness that all human beings, whether consciously or unconsciously, long for. For these reasons -and because those who bear Christ's name are called to be witnesses as described by the apostle Paul--the Church has an evangelistic mission. This is an ineluctable reality of the Christian faith. This may seem unthinkable in a cultural moment wherein the privatization of faith is pervasive and narratives such as "keep your religion for yourself and let everyone do as they wish" are rampant.
When faced with this view, I respond this way: I believe so strongly in the goodness and beauty of the gospel that I want to proclaim it again and again. But please know this: I will do so in utter respect and mutuality--not forcing my beliefs upon you (what good would that be?), but testifying to what I have seen, heard and experienced myself. If you choose to disagree or ignore or reject this, I will still love you. You are still a friend of mine. I do not view you as lesser, nor of different value than me. You are always welcome to pose questions or share your concerns about my faith with me, and I will likewise ask you about your worldview. I will not judge you nor alienate you nor view you a threat. You are invited to my table, always--no matter what you believe.
Free will is a core precept of the Christian faith. Forcing my faith upon another would be pointless--and wrong. All humans must decide for themselves if they accept or not the forgiveness of Jesus as granted through His sacrifice at the cross.
This nuance is exactly what I believe differentiates the colonial vision to the evangelical one. Where settlers forcefully imposed their ways on others, evangelism is an invitation to enter into God's grace--a true banquet feast. In the words of D. T Niles, "Christianity is one beggar telling another beggar where he found bread."
Too, a core distinction between colonialism and evangelism pertains to uniformity. Where colonialism denies plurality, evangelism affirms it. Where colonialism is about power dynamics and ensuring conformity to a belief system, evangelism is about surrendering power to a loving God and recognizing that all cultures/ ethnicities/ individuals will understand and experience Jesus differently. Where the Holy Spirit celebrates the unique attributes and gifts and cultural mores of all people, an Empire decrees that all people must assimilate to a specific expression of faith and culture.
The beauty of the gospel is that it extends Kingdom citizenship to all who desire it, no matter the background. And this very background will inform personal faith! Culture, in fact, is inevitably engrained in individual spirituality: my relationship with Jesus is shaped by my own experience, and will thus be entirely different than that of an indigenous woman, a South Korean man, a disabled person (or, or, or!) who also profess Christ.
Through cross-cultural exchange and proactive listening, we brothers and sisters in faith can learn from one another and magnificently enrich our faith and the global Church. In doing so, we can look to Christ Himself Who, through the incarnation, immersed Himself in the 'otherness' of humans whilst boldly sharing His message of deliverance.
"After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, "Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!"
It is a deeply beautiful, mysterious thing. Our God invites us to His table, adopting us to sonship while reminding us that our cultures are not to be negated or subdued by a dominant culture. Rather, our cultures are all equally preserved, and divinely used to further His mission on earth. Each culture and identity marker has unique insights to share about God and His Kingdom. Amen!
...
But where does that leave us practically? We might theoretically know these differences, but how do we respond to the past or present behaviors of the Church seemingly complicit with colonial narratives yet called "missional"? What are we to do when, in our schools and with people who do not call themselves Christians, we confront the colonial tendencies of Eurocentric, Christian settlers?
I struggle with this.
But as I have reflected and prayed about this in recent years, I am reassured of what I can do when facing these disturbing realities.
The answer, inevitably, is reconciliation - a foundational component of Christianity theology. If we as broken and sinful humans are reconciled to God, so too must we Western Christians be reconciled to the people groups we have mistreated.
And, without a shadow of a doubt, the cornerstone of the reconciliatory process is repentance.
[to be continued...]
Comments