A friend of mine put this thought on his FB page:

“A nation dies when its people are taught to hate their own history, heritage and culture.”

My first thing was to react pretty negatively to this. After all, I was raised in a setting of American Exceptionalism, with a bit of xenophobia mixed in. Therefore, when I see the quote above, I tend to see it framed in that context. I also I think I react to the word “hate” in the quote, wondering what that word means. For me, I value history in that it gives a lot of lessons. Many of those lessons are learning from the gut-wrenching mistakes of the past. To recognize and learn from these deep mistakes in our past leads me to love history. For me, one “hates” one’s history if one ignores it or fails to learn from it. However, is that what other people mean by the term “hate”? To me to love one’s history, heritage, and culture is to identify the best in it but to learn and redeem what is crappy in it. With that idea, to ‘hate” one’s culture and heritage would suggest reacting against it without learning what is valuable in it. Perhaps it would be best understood in terms of “exoticism”— the presumption that the cultural grass is greener on the other side of the cultural fence. But is that what is meant in the quote? I kind of doubt it.

In the end it doesn’t matter. I am a cross-cultural minister (or missionary if you prefer). One of my main jobs is helping Asians express their Christian faith with the understanding that it is THEIR FAITH— thought out, felt, and lived out in whatever Asian culture they are in. Because of that, I focus more on my trying to value their cultures as I help them to value their cultures. Far too much mission work has been carried out trying to get Asians to think, feel, and act like American Christians rather than Asian Christians.

But that does beg the question— “If I want Asian Christians to value their history, heritage, and culture as they express their faith within their context, how should I, as an American Christian (although living outside of the US) , express my faith?” This is made more difficult since many churches set up in the Philippines assume that American Christian culture is in some way an ideal. Most Evangelical churches in the Philippines look, dress, and act like their American denominational counterparts, they read the denominational experts from the US for guidance, and commonly embrace the American-made creeds or articles of faith. They often utilize the same version of Bible even though it commonly makes no sense to do so. I feel that I don’t live in a context that is entirely neutral here. I almost have to diminish the American influence in what I do to counteract literally generations of influence that has made the Philippine church dependent on outsiders in terms of finances, leadership, and mentoring.

That being said, one doesn’t model expressing faith within one’s context by rejecting one’s context. So here are a few quick thoughts. It is something I will hopefully come to a clearer understanding of later.

#1. My culture is bi-cultural and bi-racial. I am (white) American, while my wife is Asian-American, having been born in Asia. Therefore, my family is bi-racial. I have also lived in Asia for 20 years. Therefore, my culture, heritage, and history is not American, but rather American AND Filipino. The fact that the Philippines has over 120 years of interaction with the United States (some beneficial, some not) means that this context is not particularly conflicted. Not all missionaries are bi-racial in terms of self or family, but they all are supposed to be bi-cultural. As such, they should model a form of integration of the two contexts in terms of culture, heritage, and history.

#2. I must value my country with open-eyes. At our seminary, we do a formal Philippine flag-raising after chapel (whether that is an unhealthy mixing of church and state… I will leave alone in this post). We will also do a formal flag raising for every country represented in the student body and faculty on their respective independence days. One time I was asked to do the prayer for the USA at this flag raising. I wrote out a carefully crafted prayer and delivered it. Afterward, one of the professors came up to me and expressed surprise that my prayer was so “negative.” That actually surprised me. I didn’t think it was negative at all. I felt it was pretty balanced. I did wonder if the professor, as one who got his master’s degree from a seminary taught mostly by American missionaries, and who got his doctorate from a seminary in the United States, he was used to a less nuanced view of the US. (Of course, I may be trying to make a lot of guesses when I should simply have asked.)

#3. I mush embrace balance. Things from the US are not good BECAUSE they are from the US. On the other hand, they are not BAD because they are from there either. While the Philippine church tends to idealize what comes from elsewhere (especially the US, South Korea, and Australia) there are reversals of values at times where things are rejected BECAUSE they came from elsewhere. I can fall into that as well. I remember attending church in Baguio City for the first time. I was hoping to hear some great Tagalog or Ilocano songs sung in worship. Instead, we got some high schoolers leading a bunch of P&W that came right out of Hillsong, with even some of the mannerisms being mimicked. I wasn’t particularly thrilled by that. First of all, it is not my kind of music. Second, I felt that it was keeping Evangelical churches there foreign in some sense. However, I also had to keep that in balance. If I come in and chastized them for using mediocre songs from Australia and pressure them to use locally produced music, I am still trying, as a foreigner, to control them. The church is both local (cultural) and global (cross-cultural). This interaction is normal and healthy.

#4. I will always be seen in some sense as representing the country I come from. I had a friend who was a missionary from the United Kingdom, and the Embassy of the UK in the Philippines gave him some status to deal with some issues of British citizens in the Philippines. I don’t really remember the details of this, but am so glad that I don’t have that sort of status. Nevertheless, I will never be seen as a local. I recall, being asked to preach at a church in Tarlac Province. I had a good friend who was part of that church but in no other way had connection with the church. I asked my friend why they wanted me to preach. His response was that the church was founded by American missionaries. They wanted me to speak, as an American missionary, to make it clear that they weren’t forgotten. I have also been asked to serve on ordination boards because I have some indirect connections based on my country of origin. I have been asked to lead things on a few occasions— sometimes perhaps because I was American (and it wasn’t so long ago when Americans oversaw an awful lot in the Philippines) and perhaps sometimes because not being local, I was a compromise between two local factions. These don’t go away. I will always be foreign in some sense. Because of all of this— my options are to be a “Good American” or a “Bad American.” <There are a LOT of BAD Americans in the Philippines. I am quite grateful that people do not appear to assume that I am bad simply because I come from the same country as these bad Americans.>

#5. I think, perhaps, I should be awkwardly proud of my culture, history, heritage, and a “supporter” of my country of origin. Awkwardly proud embraces seeing things as they are— warts and all. Being a supporter, in my mind, includes holding accountable. As I like to say “Supporters act as accountability partners. If one doesn’t one is not a supporter— one is simply a fan.” There are too many fans out there.

#6. I should also feel good that I am part of another country as well. Having lived in the Philippines for 20 years, in some ways it is my country as well. I see much commendable about it. I warn people in the Philippines not to assume that life becomes better if one can leave home to work in another country. There is a lot of good things that one will lose— the cost for some may be too great. Having placed myself in two homes, two countries, with amazing cultures, heritages, and histories, is a wonderful thing. I am doubly blessed. I support both countries. However, again, to support means to hold accountable.