Me posing in front of replica of a Nestorian plaque in the seminary library

Introduction: A Second-Rate Hong Kong?

“So how’s your Greek?” asked an older missionary I met at church, in response to my telling him I teach NT and homiletics at HKBTS.  The question left me speechless for a good couple of seconds.  What am I suppose to say?  My Greek is so bad they let me graduate just a bit over three years at the University of Sheffield?  Or perhaps I can just say proudly, “My Greek is superb!”  I mumbled something quite forgettable like, “My Greek is fine.”  Not recognizing the faux pas he had just committed, he further inquired with absolutely no sense of embarrassment, “Well, since you teach preaching, do you just let the students off the hook with wishy washy Chinese translation or do you really get into the Greek?”  I was completely in shock.  Do I do the Christian thing and just let his pass or should I follow my desire and really give it to him?  I opted for the former.  Thankfully, I did not retort, “Well, only when I teach in America do I let my American students off the hook with the wishy washy NIV translation.”  I’m sure my wife gave a prayer of thanks, knowing how combative my personality can be. Even a harmlessly foolish set of questions like this can get me thinking because the above situation is illustrative of a transition between a former mission field gaining its identity and independence and the uneasiness of missionaries towards the locals gaining enough competence to apply Christianity via meaningful contextualization to the local culture.  The tension is there.  The fact is, we can view the entire situation both positively and negatively.

Hong Kong, a Theological Pearl of Asia

Positively, Hong Kong is a cosmopolitan city with a proud, innovative and progressive “can-do” mindset.  The Chinese with its more than 5,000 years of intellectual history are not going to be left behind by the much shorter western Christianized history and that includes theological education.  How often does the average American seminarian take joy in presenting his senior project on rhetorical criticism of Philemon?  How often does the average American seminarian boldly take up the challenge of doing a final project on the sexuality, marriage and the role of woman in Proverbs?  This is what our students are doing here at HKBTS.  Every student is required to take on a very academically challenging senior project.  No “wishy washy” light-weight ministry-oriented paper would do.  I enjoyed my interaction with the first topic last week in a public presentation, discussing orality, epistolography and public performance of ancient letters.  The average seminary student in Hong Kong is no less educated and is in many ways MORE educated than the average American student.  The local focus on the “practical” comes from their internship in their churches and not necessarily always in course work.  After all, how can the practical ministry professor teach everything you will ever encounter in the real-world situation of ministry which can change from minute to minute?  How can you write a paper on ministry without DOING ministry?   

Model of opium destruction by Manchurian soldiers

Many western Christians who come to a place like Hong Kong may assume that the locals are in need of some kind of contribution from the West.  This may be true in the past right after the Opium War (if you don’t know what the Opium War is and do not care to know, kick yourself in your butt right now before you read on), but this antiquated assumption is wrong-headed.  I still recall the story of a famous western theologian (who has since gone to be with the Lord and whose name will remain unmentioned) coming to HKBTS and giving a lecture on the “basics” of postmodernism as if our students who had many courses on modern thoughts and history of philosophy hardly knew anything about postmodernism.  Our local professors felt very insulted.  Who can blame them?  We are NOT morons.  Neither are we ignoramuses.  The odd questions of my missionary friend seems to imply that since we can't teach in the West, we must be second-rate scholars.  Yet, if anyone cares to look at my own faculty, most of us have at least British PhD's from top British universities (e.g. Glasgow, Sheffield, St. Andrews, Edinburgh etc.) with not a few having PhD’s from Ivy League universities (e.g. Harvard, Princeton etc.).  I joked with my colleagues that the stars of biblical studies tomorrow were our PhD classmates of yesteryears.  I think any western visitor should first do away with the “ugly American” syndrome before he enters this shore.  Any attitude or temptation to look down one’s nose at the locals here will be met with great contempt.  The attitude of “I’m from the West; I know better” will be shown the door immediately.  My attitude, as I arrive, is that of, “How can I learn from you all?” instead of “Let’s see what contribution I can bring to Baptist Theological Seminary”, as if my mere presence would change the vast theological landscape of the Hong Kong.

At the same time, I’m under no illusion that I have not benefited from past (and even present) missionary work in Hong Kong.  The comfortable buildings in which I live and work are the result of their hard work.  Their precedent has formed and shaped our policies in how an organization should be run.  In fact the missionaries have done such a great job that Hong Kong has the more divinity colleges and seminaries per square mile than any other metropolis in the world.  Many western missionaries continue to do good work including three of my western colleagues.  All these are very wonderful blessings from missionary efforts.  We must give thanks for such blessings.  I just think that the West needs to rethink the evolving globalized mission field because there is a lack of transitional thinking.  The apostle Paul was quite an expert in giving smooth transition to Pauline churches.  Within a single generation, he was able to hand the leadership over to the likes of Titus, Timothy and Epaphras.  My pastor Harry who ministers in the Interntional Baptist Church of Kowloon (and who is a wonderful man) is just an American pastor hired to minister to English-speaking locals, some of whom are Chinese.  We do not see him as a missionary.  He is just the best qualified man for the post, whether his skin color is white, black, yellow, green or purple.  He did not have to raise support.  In Paul's generation, the original minssionaries quickly became partners with the original mission field.  A place like Hong Kong has long transitioned out of being a mission field into a thriving indigenized Christian community with its own theologies and cultural contexts.  The West must walk in Paul's path. 

In a critical reflection on missionary history and hermeneutics, my friend Prof. K. K. Yeo who teaches in Garrett Evangelical Seminary states, "If Jerusalem has nothign to do with Beijing, then to speak of Chinese Christianity is a contradiction." (Cosgrove, Weiss, Yeo, Cross-Cultural Paul (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), p. 113.)

Hong Kong, the Colonial Victim and Gateway to China

Let me now go to the negative aspect of the above discussions.  I must admit that British colonialism has received some backlash from Hong Kongers.  One such backlash happened right after the handover back to China in 1997.  Schools began to loosen English requirements, making English an optional subject because English was the colonial language.  The net result is an entire generation of people who speak half-baked English.  Only recently have the educators realized that such a policy would prevent students from, first, gaining a wider perspective of the world and second, from gaining a strong western education in graduate studies.  While Hong Kong has some of the top universities in the world, the vast majority of the students still cannot get in.  They need to get their degrees from abroad.  Such a situation creates difficulty for us who teach because previously the professors were able to assign the best books to read for each class, whether the book was in English or Chinese.  Now, many students look for Chinese books because the human nature always urges one to take the path of the least resistance.  Colonial shadows still loom quite large and the impact of its sin remains.  Lest anyone think that it’s so easy for the educators to think with foresight, such a person has obviously never been told that he cannot go into a place, not because he does not have enough money or status but because he is not British.  Postcolonial backlash is not always logical or analytical.

Upon further reflections, I think of the theological edudcation of the West as having serious financial troubles.  My alma mater Sheffield nearly closed its undergrad biblical studies program, due to university-wide funding problem.  About a third of seminaries in the US are facing serious financial and personnel cut-back.  Unemployed PhD's are dime a dozen.  Those who remain in the teaching profession are no longer being paid decent salaries.  Libraries cannot always afford to acquire new books.  Here in Hong Kong, giving is not down in spite of the financial crash in Asia.  Our library is still adding speedily to its 100,000-volume collection.  In the past, we had to learn German to study for our advanced degrees because of the volume of scholarship coming out of 19th and 20th century research.  By the time I retire, perhaps western students may have to learn Chinese for theological research.  With China's intellectual history and academic prowess along with the innovative mindset of Hong Kong, nothing can stop the "awaken giant" that is already at work here.  I also foresee China as having the greatest population of Christians among any ethnic group in the world, and Hong Kong is its gateway.  British colonialism, by then, will be a long forgotten memory. 

Conclusion: Blue Skies Ahead

I recall having another strange conversation with another American Christian; I seem to have a lot of those lately.

"So, will you be raising money for the Hong Kong ‘mission’?”  Yet another person asked me before I left San Jose.  Hong Kong mission?  I’m not aware I’m on any kind of mission, unless we consider the wider and secular meaning of the word “mission” as in trying to accomplish something.  My frank answer was, “I’m on a nice contract and not on a missionary project to the third world.”  My confused inquirer fell silent.  He simply can't imagine that America is NOT God's kingdom and that the rest of the world is not a vast mission project.  Isn’t Hong Kong a third-world country?   

Being a child of post-colonialism has its challenges.  I can see both sides of the equation.  I often find myself defending Hong Kong to the West but at the same time defending the West to Hong Kongers.  In some ways, Hong Kong still has much to learn from the West, but the West has just as much to learn from Hong Kong, the intellectual gate way to that great country called China.  Hong Kong educational system and many other aspects can still improve.  At the same time, I’m delighted to see the local Christians being quite empowered by the former missionaries to rise to levels way beyond expectations.  The future will depend on how people deal with the colonial legacy.  Even though many challenges will rise, the future remains bright.

A Flat with a View

Introduction

After I left, so many have asked about how I'm adjusting.  Here're some first impressions.

Sad Departure and Strange Hello

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready to depart.  Please put away your electronic ..." a female voice said cheerfully.  I looked one last time at San Francisco International Airport.  This was not just one more flight on Cathay Pacific to Asia for yet another book tour; this was permenant.  As the plane pulled away from the runway and left my beloved country behind, I felt this lump in my throat.  I remember that same lump some thirty six years ago when I left Hong Kong Kai Tak Airport (the old airport) to move to this great country called USA, except this time, it felt more like an exile from all my closest friends to a faraway land I left long ago where nothing now resembles my childhood memories.  Even though I went back to Hong Kong the last four years as an invited guest speaker for various functions, I do not any longer feel that cultural affinity for this busy place.  I’ve gone soft; I’ve gone American.  I relate to everything American.  Even people who know me in England consider me the “red-blooded American” (a literal quote).  I truly do not feel Chinese, even though I speak fluently in two dialects. I almost cried, but I didn't.  After all, I'm a 46-year-old mid-career professor.  Men like us don't cry over new jobs and old relationships.

A medium built (they all seem medium built here) gentleman who held up a sign with my name “Dr. Sam Tsang” greeted me.  The seminary had hired a Mercedes Benz van to pick us up.  I found out later that they hired such a van for special functions.  This was at least quite a special occasion to me.  We arrived at our flat to be settled by our staff member and part-time faculty Celia Jurgens.  After the ever helpful Celia left, we were given sufficient goods to last for a few days and far away from our “home” in this spacious flat (by local standards).  What will happen to me in this home away from home?  I feel like a "ronin." (a negative Japanese word for an exiled or homeless warrior)

Faster than a Speeding Bullet (Sometimes)

“Hello, Dr. Tsang, do you need your office cleaned?” the friendly cleaning lady said as I barely sat down in my new chair.  “No, thanks,” I answered half-heartedly in a sleepy voice, without bothering to look up.  “Oh, no, you have dirt,” not to be deterred from her assignment to clean my office.  She touched one shelf and proclaimed victoriously, "Dirty!”  She wiped vigorously.  I laughed.  “Hello, Dr. Tsang, I’m xxx.  Let me brief you on ....” a cheerful female voice chirped as I looked up at the entrance of my office.  This scene of briefing repeated through my whole first day.  We have so many administrative personnel that I lost track of their names.  Just when I finally settled, the IT guy came in to check on whether my chair was ergonomic enough.  I was amazed at how much support this place gives its faculty.  In the US, you better fend for yourself.  Here, everyone fends for you.  The fun had only begun. 

The next day, in one more of my briefings, I casually mentioned that I did not enjoy the sunlight shining so directly at my computer screen.  In no more than a quarter of an hour, the IT guy had returned along with two others to help him figure out how to make the situation better.  Several ingenious solutions were suggested with one final and simple solution winning the day.  In the coming days, I have so many reminding me through countless emails and personal contacts to make sure I make it to chapel, special speaking engagements, and even all campus tea party.  I hardly have to remember anything.  Do Hong Kong people always move like a speeding bullet?  I wondered.

The Postmodern Prankster

If I was nervous about teaching, my mind was soon put at ease as I gave lectures for my first day.  As I approached my classroom for Colossians, I heard some scuttling about followed by whispers, “I think the professor is here.  Run!”  As I entered, some acted surprise as they ran to their seats but most gave me loud enthusiastic applause, followed by raucous laughter.  I looked for the proverbial water bucket above the door, but found none.  Pretending to be serious, I heard one gal remark, “Wow, our professor sure dresses sharp.”  I had my J. Crew pinstripes with white pocket square and my Armani tie on, with leather attaché in hand.  I was ready for business.  I started my class, giving my usual “don’t call me Sam” speech, “Hello, I’m Dr. Sam Tsang.  Some call me Dr. Tsang.  Others call me Rev. Tsang.  Some may even affectionately call me Dr. Sam.  Better no one calls me bad names, at least not to my face.  Definitely NO ONE calls me Sam.  Well, there’s good reason for that.  I’m not as good-looking as Ah-Sam (a local rock star Sam Hui aka Ah-Sam).”  Not to be outdone by my speech, someone shouted, “I think you’re better looking.”  I retorted without missing a beat or looking up, “You get an A.”  Fun is the name of the game in my class.  I decided not to take myself too seriously in my new gig. If you take yourself too seriously, please pause from reading, stand up, and kick your own behind for me ... now, sit back down. Better?

Before anyone got any funny idea about playing a joke on the newbie, I asked in my most snobbish voice, “Whose crazy idea is it to applaud the new guy anyway?  Is this becoming of a seminary class?”  Long silence ... followed by a few nervous giggles.  Finally, a young man at the back stood up, “Sir, it was my idea.”  I inquired, pretending to be quite agitated, “Who might YOU be, young man?  Speak up!”  He murmured, “I’m so-and-so from so-and-so Baptist church.”  Smelling a rat, I demanded, “Are you lying?  I think you’re impersonating your classmate trying to get him in trouble.”  Undergrads! You cannot trust them.  A few louder giggles proved my original suspicion to be right.  He was impersonating his classmate.  The new guy is a prophet.  Respect that!

I was given the unenviable task of teaching Colossians for the entire semester.  How can you spend an entire semester on such a short book?  Well, easy … I shall go verse by verse commentary style on every Greek word.  Wrong!  Our only full professor and a good friend suggested (and I always listened), “Don’t do that.  Dr. so-and-so is already doing that with Galatians and earlier with Romans.  Go through various critical and postmodern methods in your exegesis with them.”  Why for?  He explained, “Because you’re from Sheffield.  You’re the postmodern guy here.  You know that stuff.”  Is that supposed to be good?  He smiled with a glimmer in his eyes, “Of course it’s good.  It is expected.  Go do it.”  What a refreshing change!  If I did that among evangelical students in the US, I’ll get an even split between blank stares and the call to burn me at stake.  Unless I was prepared to call Derrida and Foucault the children of the Evil One, I would receive a large frown at best in some quarters and a severe reprimand among many US evangelicals.  I’m really beginning to appreciate the ability of Hong Kongers to leave their minds open.  I’m in my elements.  I think I’m going to be OK.

My colleague’s wise words soon bore fruit.  I started with the history of interpretation and the formation of text and canon in my NT interpretation class.  When I came to a good stopping point, I left five minutes for every student to share what he or she expected for my class.  Most talked a bit about wanting to learn many methodologies.  One answer proved that I’ve come to the right teaching environment, “Dr. Tsang, I’m pleasantly surprised to find that you are willing to tackle hard issues and to open our eyes to this huge world of criticisms and interpretations.”  To think that some ignorant fundies actually called for my head back in San Jose for less than this, I quietly said a prayer of thanks. I don't miss the intellectual persecution back in San Jose.  Isn't it ironic that I can speak with more freedom in Hong Kong than among Chinese Christians back in the US, the land of free speech? 

After a busy week of teaching and writing, it’s time to kick back and eat some dim sum.  Friday was one of my colleagues’ birthday.  What better way to celebrate a birthday than to eat at our favorite water-front hotel for brunch?  As it turned out, another colleague was also leaving town to go back to Oz.  We could roll a bon voyage meal and a birthday celebration into one.  So we did.  As I listened to my boss’ laughter next to me and as I stared out dreamily at the tranquil morning waterfront, I thought, “It's been a long week, but I’m going to be OK.”

On Being "OK"

I heard the most illuminating conversation behind me as I waited in line at the home furnishing shop today.  A woman said, “What is it these people are buying?”  The man said, “Whatever it is, it is for the rich and young.  Not for me and you.”  The woman said, “Perhaps it’s for holding newspapers.  Maybe the rich use that to hold papers.”  Smiling, I finally couldn’t resist, “We are buying this big dish rack for drying dishes.  It is not for the rich and young.”  With a huge belly laugh, the man said, “Right!  I said it’s for the rich and young and I’m right.  We don’t have the space in our kitchen for that ‘thing’.  Nor do we have enough dishes to use that ‘thing.’  See, it’s for the rich and young.”  I can’t argue with that insight.  As I walked away, I could see the man smiling and shaking his head good-naturely.  You see?  Wealth is relative.  “OK” is relative too.  I feel rich, not because I have so much but because I have more than so many, and definitely more than most in Haiti this week.  And I think I’m going to be OK, not because all my closest friends are nearby (unless you count Facebook as nearby), but because of the endless possibilities for new ones.  As my wife told my son, these (past, present and future) relationships are like gems I carry in my heart wherever I end up.  That makes it all OK.  Yeah, I'm doing good ... real good.  I smiled.

On my wife's take, read http://htrandomthoughts.blogspot.com/

  Introduction 

My recent move from the US to Hong Kong (see above picture of our seminary flat at the intersection between the two buildings on the third floor) allows me time to assess my material goods in terms of my needs and wants.  In this bittersweet time, I find many meaningful conversations with various people who offer to help me with the move.  In fact, I would say that the move was a community effort simply because I’m downsizing to half of the square footage of living space in Hong Kong.  I find the whole experience of giving stuff away to be psychologically liberating.  When I moved to England, I had a garage sale.  Both Helen and I find the whole process distressing to the point that we have decided to give our stuff away rather than spending time watching the garage only to bargain with greedy people who would squabble over 1% of the price.  It is simply not worth it.

The Hunt or the Kill?

One day, on my Facebook, my nephew asked the interesting question, “Are you more satisfied by the hunt or the kill?”  In other words, are we more satisfied with the process or the product?

This question fascinates me when I watch people bargain in garage sales.  I recall someone wanting some particularly cheap item that has already been marked down.  The price difference was only a few dollars.  Yet, this person insisted on knocking down the prices to the point of me giving the product away.  This particularly annoying person drove up in a fancy car.  He was by no means poor.  He enjoyed the hunt.

I was listening to another person who shared her experience of shopping.  She stated that if she was given something for free, she would be quite generous to share with others.  However, she was a bargain hunter.  She was shrewd with finding the right sales.  She too enjoyed the hunt.  At the same time, she also shared that it would be really hard for her to give away something she had put the effort into finding the right sales.  Her problem was not with the price of the item but with the time and effort she had invested.  Thus, she appeared to enjoy only the hunt, but she also enjoyed the kill at the same time. 

I think that different people find different parts of the shopping process a fascinating subject.  The question then is not merely whether the hunt or the kill was more satisfying but is more about what makes us tick.

Why is Value so Sentimental?

Before anyone accuses me of a judgmental attitude, I want to make clear that none of the above examples are particularly sinful or wrong.  Both examples had the right to do what they did.  I then trun the discussion on myself. 

It is particularly hard to figure out what to give away.  I think most people who know me would consider me a relational person.  I enjoy, treasure and prioritize relationships.  I’ve had friends all the way from high school through young adulthood who still keep in close touch with me.  Quite a few of them consider me to be one of their best lifetime friends.  I’m a sentimental person.  My wife also notices that I’m fiercely loyal to my friends who stand by me during crunch time.  With my personality, the stuff I have trouble getting rid of may not be stuff that has any real value.  I do not necessarily enjoy hunting for bargain.  Neither do I have trouble giving away stuff I’ve spent a lot of effort locating. 

I think the difference of how we deal with “things” has to do with where our heart is.  Although I still find many things having sentimental value, I’ve grown from this move to ask the real and practical question, “Would I miss this item 10 years from now?”  The question is sobering because what if I have to move in 10 years from now?  Do I want to go through the same deciphering process only to find stuff from 10 years ago that I just discovered I have?  This is a sobering process.  It is also a very good process because it makes me realize that sentimentality in decision-making is not quite enough.

People will find what I keep surprising after my long weeding out process.  I’ve kept this essay written by this young lady who was pastored by me.  She wrote a high school essay about a person she admired and that person was me.  I didn’t keep that essay to boost my ego because I know how far I fall short of her ideal minister still.  I kept her essay to remind me that sometimes, it is not the instant result that matters.  Her impact on me is long-term.  I know even in 10 years, that essay would still encourage me.

The Two Main Questions: Necessity and Long-term Impact

I used to think that instant gratification is the main culprit of why people do not want to part with their material goods.  I think the situation is much more complex.  Take the example of my friend who enjoys both a bargain and the reward.  Her effort in putting in the bargain might not match her need.  I have another friend who would shop in many incredible sales, but she also had many things that she did not need.  She only bought them because they were a good deal, and good deal makes her feel satisfied, though the poorer for wear.  Sometimes, it is the bargain, that painful yet delightful process, which keeps people from parting with their goods.  Their heart is in the planning.

When purchasing these days, I’ll have to ask myself a hard question.  Is the purchase necessary, even if it cheap?  Sometimes, sales trick the compulsive spender.  Money spent on a sale is still money.  Another question I ask then is whether the purchase has long-term value.  If something devalues quickly over time, perhaps it is better purchased shrewdly and conservatively rather than extravagantly. 

The Main Issue: Where Our Heart Is

What does the above reflection have to do with spirituality?  I think how we purchase and manage goods is highly spiritual.  Jesus stated long ago that His followers could not serve both God and mammon (Matt. 6.24).  Jesus was dealing with a heart issue, not just merely the choice between the hunt and the kill.  Our possession management style says a lot about who we are.  Our heart needs to be settled in the greater things and measure those things against the lesser things.  It is not enough just to claim commitment to the kingdom.  The process of commitment is ongoing questioning of our heart and motive.  It is not about our riches being sinful, but about how we manage what we have.  The process can be painful sometimes and is not black and white but is much more worthwhile than the simplistic solution. 

Introduction

Did you notice that "Church" or other spiritual things are getting renamed these days?  I have often been asked to comment on the Emerging Church movement.  I do not have much informed opinion on this movement yet.  I do however notice the tendency to rename religious things into non-religious things.  From the name change, I make the following observations.

Name Change is Nothing "New"

Name change is nothing new.  In the Bible, the word for church basically means "assembly/gathering" that Christ followers adopted to describe their gathering.  This explains why some denominations call themselves "assemblies" (e.g. Assembly of God).  The early church gathering was for a purpose though, mostly to fellowship and worship in community with one another.  Thus, the word "Church" was devoid of religious meanings to begin with. 

Starting with the 80s and 90s, I begin to see churches that move away from denominational names, even though they have denominational affiliations.  Two of the most famous are Willow Creek Community Church and Saddleback, with the former being part of Reformed Church of America and latter Southern Baptist.  I suppose it fits the zeitgeist in favor of localizing ministry rather than being centralized to a denomination. 

These days, the word "Church" seems to diminish in its usefulness.  Many "Churches" now have done away with the word altogether, in favor of some descriptive word.  Churches now choose every conceivable description for their names (e.g. the Mosaic, the River, the Bridge etc.).  The interesting names are endless.  I suppose these names help the assembly solidify what "church" means to them while not intimidating the seeker.  I suppose the "purpose driven" movement has its lasting effects, for good or for bad.

I also notice that churches have changed names for other religious labels.  Singing time used to be called worship time, which may be a misnomer as many have pointed out.  Later, some may wish to call that time "singspriation."  Church position names also change.  In the old days, the head pastor was called the "senior pastor."  These days, some are called "lead pastor."  The renaming goes on indefinitely and infinitely.   What can we make of it?

Marketing is Easy; Quality Control is Hard

I had an interesting discussion with a few lay people on this topic.  A common theme emerges: marketing.  The next question to me is, "Marketing to whom?"  Let's take the average non-Christian who may be interested in Christianity, the neighbor you want to invite to church because you want him or her to experience the goodness of our faith.  Most non-Christians know when they are in "Church" whether "Church" comes in form of a building with a pulpit and crucifix or in a warehouse. There is no mistake that they know they're in church.  In other words, unbelievers are not as stupid as we suppose.  Thus, by changing all these "Christian" words to more neutral words, we are not fooling anyone.  Neither is having a Christian label intimidating anyone who is willling to go into church with us.  A non-believer does not expect church to be anything other than ... well... CHURCH!  Do people honestly think that when we change the name of our building, somehow the unbeliever would think that s/he is in a bar having a drink?  News flash: unbelievers are not stupid.

This begs the question, "Marketing to whom?"  The reality is that we Christians are marketing to ourselves.  To me, this borderlines on madness.  How can we be marketing to ourselves?  I thought the Great Commission, in Matthew 28.18-20 and Acts 1.8, was originally designed for reaching to the unreached.  Marketing to ourselves encourage one thing among many others: church hopping.  This is spiritual inbreeding.  People hop to a different church (oh sorry, we must not use the C-word here) because it sounds cool and offers something "different."  Perhaps, to put the matter in a less cynical fashion, the renaming is the Church's way of trying to define herself.  If such a case is true, the church that has the right new name may attract some believers who may be drawn to her.

As I said before, the name change makes the place no more or less "church."  Neither does it change the essence of the program or position on which we perform the name change.  If the essence has not changed, our problem is not the name.  Our problem is quality control.  Let's say we call the sermon time "inspirational lecture" or "kerygma" would the unbeliever become more or less prone to attend church?  My guess is, the name makes no difference.  The problem is the quality of content and delivery in the preaching of that sermon.  I recall once bringing friends who were struggling in their marriage to church. My former pastor was preaching on the family on that day.  My friends' remark was, "That was really helpful." The matter was just that simple. 

Conclusion

What can we draw from the above observations?  I think this fascination with names shows that first, the Church does not know whom it is trying to reach, believers or unbelievers.  She does not know her "market."  The average church in the US has lost its relevance not because it has the name "Church" but because the quality (and with it relevance) of ministry has diminished.  Second, the Church in America  no longer knows her identity.  In the midst of the postmodern world where relevance is everything, if the Church does not know what the "Church" is, then we're in real trouble.  Language and names are powerful media.  They are powerful in exposing our weakness and illusions.

This reflection has its origin in my upcoming book on Luke-Acts characterization, coming out next year.  Prof. Darrell Bock and Dr. Ward Gasque are writing the forewords to this book. The blog is a modified and simplified version of that section.  It originally took on various forms in public lectures, class lectures and two popular articles. Just thought I'd share this with my friends here on the blog so that we can slow down to reflect on what Advent actually means. The purpose of this article is to debunk some of the popular "myths" and misinterpretations of Luke's account that have so laced our Christmas story we can no longer distinguish truth from superficial religious sentimentality.  I'm carrying on the materialistic theme of the first installment of "An Advent Reflection."

What if there is room for Jesus?:

A Christmas Meditation on the Poor Man’s Gospel  

Introduction:

During Advent preaching a few years back, my pastor asked the congregation, “What if there is room in the inn for Jesus?”  This is an intriguing question that coheres well with the Christmas message by Luke.  Luke 2 devotes much discussion dealing with that particular question.  In the midst of this joyful season, what does Luke have to say about the birth of Jesus?  Luke 2 has been interpreted in various ways.  The most common way is to see the humility of Jesus in the manger with all its sentimentality and moralistic trappings.  Nothing was further from Luke’s mind.  There are some who would see the two wrappings of Jesus enveloping His life in 2.7 and 23.53.  The problem with such a view is that the Greek indicates different wording for the two events.  Such choice of words by Luke indicates no intention in making parallels between the two events, however much we like to sentimentalize Jesus’ life.  Unless Luke records explicitly from the Suffering Servant passage in Isaiah (e.g. Luke 4.18-19; cf. Isa. 61.1-2), we cannot simply assign meaning, especially when other meanings are plain as day within the text.  No such theology of Suffering Servant occupies Luke when he wrote the infancy story.  Christmas ethics is not much about the humility of Jesus, at least not for Luke.  It is surprisingly practical, as the study below indicates.  The Christmas story should challenge us to action at the end. 

The Gospel of the Manger

The story tells us that Jesus’ parents went to Bethlehem because of a census.  They went there to register (Luke 2.5).  When they got there, the time for the baby to be born was near (Luke 2.6, but there was no room in the inn.  So the couple was relegated to the manger for Jesus.  Luke then flashed to a different scene of shepherds in the fields nearby keeping watch over the flocks at night (Luke 2.8).  Scholars have agreed that it is about spring time, as opposed to the “cold winter night” as some Christmas songs claim, because of the geographical location and the supply of edible grass.  An angel of the Lord told them that in the town of David a savior was born (Luke 2.11).  Yet, the real catch is in Luke 2.12, “This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” 

Thus far, there had only been one sign: Elizabeth’s pregnancy.  According to Luke, when Mary questioned her own pregnancy, God legitimated her pregnancy by telling her about Elizabeth’s in Luke 1.35-37 where the angel answered the question, “How can this be?”  Yet, the angel did not use the word “sign” to describe Elizabeth’s pregnancy.  In other words, the “sign” was especially reserved for something quite special, even more special than Elizabeth’s pregnancy. 

Traditionally, many interpreters understand the location of Bethlehem as the most important issue.  After all, Jesus needed to be in the town of David, but did he need to be born at that time?  He could have been born any other time in the town of David and would have fulfilled Old Testament prophecy.  Matthew’s point was indeed about location, but Luke’s point was about something else.  The story was all about timing.  The timing was amazingly precise in the way Luke described it.  What if the timing was different when there was room in the inn?  What if the timing was different when the shepherds could not have gotten edible grass from that nearby field?  What if …?

The secondary issue of location was important, but not in the way many imagine.  Already, the knowledge of the Messiah needing to be born in Bethlehem was quite common by Jesus’ time (e.g. Matt. 2.5-6).  The location of the manger however was new.  The angel called the baby in the manger a “sign,” not to anyone else but to the shepherds.  Thus, the story in Luke shows the merging of divine timing and a special location of the manger.  We go back to the question, “What if the timing is different when there is room in the inn?”  In other words, if the couple went to the city without the necessity of political census, they could find room in the inn.  What if the timing was still the same spring time?  The shepherds whose sheep grazed in the field would never be able to identify the Savior because the inn would have had room.  The baby would not be in a manger to be identified by the shepherds.  What if the timing was different when the census came in the winter where there was little to no edible grass in the nearby field?  The baby would be in a manger but there would be no shepherds.  By the time the shepherds made it to the location in the spring, the baby will be long gone.  Thus, the timing must be precise for this whole chain of events to take place.  Only one scenario of Luke 2 would make the story work.  The wrapped baby in a manger repeated in Luke 2.7, 12 was the sign.  The audience ought to note such emphasis.  

Now that we have established the sign as being the baby in the manger, we must look at the reason why God wanted to reveal to the shepherds.  Luke went on to tell us that the shepherds went off and see baby Jesus.  When they saw the baby, they spread the word about the supernatural sign in Luke 2.17.  The people were amazed and the shepherds glorified and praised God for the events happening just as they had been told, namely the precise timing of a baby in a manger as the sign (Luke 2.18-20).  In other words, the sign was there to make the first human messengers to be shepherds.  The people were amazed not because these messengers were shepherds, but because of the message “WHAT the shepherds said to them.”  Luke was saying that God especially prepared the timing of this event so that the shepherds who were normally not in contact with humans during this time of the year could be a witness to the good news.  In the story, we may notice the names that are given such as Augustus, Joseph, and Mary.  These were historically significant people.  In contrast, the shepherds remained nameless.  Yet, their role was indispensable for the preservation of Luke’s story.  Only they could tell the story about the angel and the sign because they alone experienced the angel and the sign.  God made the insignificant significant. 

The Gospel to the First Audience

As any educated reader of Luke would know, the gospel was written to the most excellent Theophilus in Luke 1.3.  Only Roman officers deserved the title “most excellent” in Jesus day.  As such, the Gospel addressed an aristocrat. 

As an aristocrat, the historical figure Theophilus did not have very much contact with commoners.  In fact, the chance of his contact with shepherds would be slim to none.  His circle would be other more elite members of the society.  What was the meaning of such a story to the original reader Theophilus?  How should the specific timing, location and the special usage of the word “sign” impress Theophilus?  There is a lesson somewhere in this story which brings us to the ethics of Christmas to the first reader. 

The Practical Message of Christmas: gospel for the poor

The Christmas message came through the manger.  It did not merely convey some poor Savior who had been born into Israel.  It did not even talk mainly about the

Suffering Servant whose fate will be the cross.  It did, however, convey the importance of the sign which made the first evangelists to be the shepherds.  THIS, more than anything else, was the point of Christmas.  In God’s eyes, the poor were of vital importance in His kingdom.  Jesus’ birth brought them into God’s fold for worship.  The new kingdom of Jesus was not merely for the rich like Theophilus.  It was also for the poor.  Kingdoms by nature were geared for the rich.  Only conquerors like Augustus in Luke 2.1 got the worldly kingdom, not through humility but through politics.  Yet, even Augustus’ political decision here was controlled by the great God of Israel so that a few insignificant and nameless shepherds became the first messengers.  God was for the poor.  That is the good news according to Luke here. 

For Theophilus, he must learn two lessons.  First, politics and Caesar’s kingdom could only get him so far in life.  Ultimately, God controlled everything.  His faith, then, should not be in politics but in God.  Luke’s infancy record had a definitive teaching about the limitations of political power.  Second, in order to express this new-found faith in God, he must apply his life by noticing the poor who also needed to be brought into the Church to worship the king.  He should use his hard earned money to assist the poor instead of merely promoting his own status.  The incarnation is a lesson of generosity.  If God so cares for the poor shepherds, why should His people neglect the poor?

What does this have to do with us?  First, Christians can often overreact against the American sentiment of radical separation of church and state.  As a result, they would uncritically support political parties that are willing to use evangelicals to get votes.  Political parties have long latched on to the religious game and have used Christians to do their bidding.  The infancy story warns us against reliance on political powers.  Politics have their limitations.  Christians would be wise to walk a careful line in dealing with HOW they influence the government, so that they do not become fools at the end.  Second, the North American Church is primarily an upper-middle class church.  We are in a sense like Theophilus.  We are the most upwardly mobile minority.  We are experts in using the system in our favor.  Yet, Christmas tells us a different story.  Christmas tells us that we cannot rely on our riches and achievements.  All such things are nothing without God.  Christmas also demands of us selfless sacrifice.  Just like God uses the manger to call the poor to worship Jesus and spread the gospel, so we should take care of the poor.  We must remember the poor among us and bring both material and spiritual assistance to them.  For those with resource, Christmas’ message still rings true: The Gospel is for the poor also.  Christmas tell us, “Theology without action is a dead faith.”  Third, the Christmas spirit is not about giving in general but about giving to those in need.  General gift giving for those who do not need the gifts is contrary to the spirit of the first Christmas.  The whole American tradition of the Black Friday rush is the very enemy of Christmas.  I’m almost tempted to say that Christmas shopping is contrary to the spirit of Christmas unless the gift is given to the poor.  I think if we think hard enough, we may find it difficult to recall all the gifts given to us last year.  That is because for most of us, we really do not need more gifts.  Yet, the poor needs our gift.  The first gift of Christmas was given to the poor.  God’s heart is for the poor still.