This Too Shall Pass

Loving our Asian-American brothers and sisters in the face of a pandemic

 
Image by Sophia Jeon

Image by Sophia Jeon

 

By Zachary Lee and Sophia Jeon

What started with a quick FaceTime call to catch up about the crazy times in which we are living, soon turned into a conversation about something important, relevant, and near to both of our lives. We grappled with the ways that Asian-Americans were currently being treated, and our journeys, while separate, have converged into these words where we articulate the heartache, pain, and brokenness we’re feeling and witnessing. Part liturgy, part meditation, and all reflection, we decided to structure our thoughts in the framework of Reaction, Process, Response, and Encouragement, echoing the four-part Biblical metanarrative of Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Restoration.


PART 1: REACTION

When I first heard about the increasingly prevalent acts of anti-Asian racism since the outbreak of the coronavirus, I didn’t really know how to process it. I did realize that I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable about going out for a run. A part of me felt foolish for feeling this way, and yet another part of me knew this fear was real, not only within myself but in the Asian-American community at large. Such growing sentiments of anxiety needed to be addressed. But how do we, as Asian-Americans, navigate the intersection between our cultural identity and our Christian identity? I wanted to seek the Lord for His voice in response to this racial, traumatic experience.

Initially, I kept telling myself that God, too, was mourning with all the Asian Americans that are hurting right now because of the racism that they have faced by being associated with the COVID-19 pandemic. But I think that in these past couple of weeks, I was frankly not ready to face the burden that Asian Americans were bearing as a whole. I could barely bring myself to read a few articles, if any at all. So, I began to take time to be silent before God in prayer and in acknowledgement of this pain. Because of the weight of everything that was happening around me, there really were no words to express how I felt or what I thought, anyways.

Sophia Minyoung (민영) Jeon


When COVID-19 first began circulating through the news and I slowly realized how much life would change, my first answer was to retreat. I was already heartbroken at the prospect that my immigrant grandparents wouldn’t be able to attend commencement or graduation. Then the headlines began to roll in—every other one depicting xenophobic attacks against Asian-Americans. I was hesitant to engage beyond the headlines which were frustrating and painful enough to read on their own: “When Xenophobia Spreads Like A Virus” and “Spit On, Yelled At, Attacked: Chinese-Americans Fear for Their Safety.” When I took a moment to peruse the articles themselves, the abuse, both verbal and physical, was eerily reminiscent of past accounts of xenophobia such as the Chinese Exclusion Act or the Rodney King Riots in 1992. For me, however, the final straw was hearing the personal accounts and stories of University friends who had experienced verbal insults. Anytime I go for a walk now and pass by a pedestrian, I mentally and physically prepare myself for even the slightest expression of hostility, as simple as a word, phrase or look. It frustrates me that despite being born in America, these moments of crisis reveal to me that I will always be seen as “the other” or viewed as a subset of being American. It frustrates me that my Koreanness will always be seen as a means to discredit my Americanness. It frustrates me that at the first sign of crisis, people will turn to xenophobia, their present fear blinding them to the history that America is a nation founded by immigrants.

Zachary Jungmo (정모) Lee


PART 2: PROCESS

After a week or so, I finally got myself to click on a couple of news articles and quickly realized that reading two of them was more than I could bear. Feeling helpless and distraught, I brought myself to the Lord in prayer, and tried to cast my cares unto Him. God, where are You in all of this? What are You doing in the midst of all this tension, hatred, and violence between people groups?

It’s difficult to discern where Jesus is in the image of the crying Asian man being ridiculed while recycling his trash. [1] As I was deeply grieving over the painful video of this man, I prayed a prayer that a friend of mine shared with me recently: Lord, my heart is too small. My heart is way too small to handle this pain that the acts of racism have imposed on those around me, both near and far. Lord, would You intervene and deliver those who are hurting right now.

The Lord gently reminded me of the verse in John 16— “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” [2] Now, although I have heard this many, many times, I felt a tug in my heart to sit on the verse and continue to meditate on it. When I usually heard the words in that verse, “take heart”, I understood it as Jesus’ message to be courageous in the face of adversity, trials, and pain. I often heard it in a voice that led me to desire straightening up a little, to stand up a little taller, and say “Yes, God, I will take heart. I will be more courageous.” But this time, I realized how gentle the reminder to “take heart” felt.

At this moment, Jesus’s words for me to “take heart” no longer made me feel like I had to get up on my feet right away and be ready to take on this sin called racism. When I think about courage as a Christian virtue, I'm reminded of Christ riding on a donkey, of Christ weeping in wait of a cross. Christian courage is a paradox. “Take heart” gave me the peace to just be before Him. I entered into this beautiful exchange of giving Him my “small” and broken heart and, in return, receiving a whole heart—a heart within the walls of my Asian American bones— He was allowing me to take heart from Him and to be bold in my body and prayers.

Sophia Minyoung (민영) Jeon


 

It was hard for me to feel bold and proud of my heritage when something like a sneeze or cough was enough to arouse suspicion and challenge my place in America. These moments remind me of how fragile my belonging in this world is. Sabrina Tavernise and Richard A. Oppel Jr. in The New York Times shared how for Asian-Americans who have settled and found America to be their home, these vicious attacks and comments, regardless of the permutation they take, are seen as a questioning of identity— revealing the amorphous foundation with which our belonging rests. They wrote that “For American-born Asians, there is a sudden sense of being watched that is as unsettling as it is unfamiliar,” many sharing a sentiment of not being seen as “American.” [3] Natalie Escobar also spoke and wrote for NPR that “Certain diseases get attached with immigrant groups who are seen as the perceived threat of the time,” such as Ebola being tied to Africans, Typhus to Irish immigrants, and Tuberculosis to Jewish people. [4] Thus when President Donald Trump described COVID-19 as the “Chinese Virus”, it was only a perpetuation and encouragement, even if unintentional, of the willful ignorance and scape-goating that takes precedence over caring for the dignity and humanity of people. [5]

Zachary Jungmo (정모) Lee

PART 3: RESPONSE

In a quiet, still place with Him, I found strength— not only for myself but also for others, as I interceded on their behalf. And by “others,” I mean everyone involved in this response to the Asian-American community in light of the pandemic. I’m praying for those that are committing both active and passive acts of racism towards people that look like me. I’m praying for my fellow Asian brothers and sisters, that God will guard all of our hearts, minds, and bodies through this moment in history. I’m also praying for those that recognize the atrocity of the pain and are hurting on behalf of the Asian-American population.

What do I pray for? I pray for the Lord to do a restorative work in the heart of man. Whether we are Asian or not, I pray that the Lord would help us live out the truth that “there is no fear in love.” [6] That in love, there is no fear that we project towards other Asians, Asian Americans, and Asian immigrants, just because the virus started in China. I understand the desire to seek clarity in the truly difficult times that we are living in, but we will not get there by putting the blame on a people group. The shift in our Asian-American history that we are contending for, by asking the Lord for deliverance from the reoccurring sentiment of the “yellow peril,” is not a task that we can do on our own. We need Him to intervene, and shift the history for us. I pray and believe that God, the history maker of all, will do it again because He has done it before.

Sophia Minyoung (민영) Jeon


 

While it is tempting for me to wallow in this frustration, I am reminded that Christ calls me to die to myself and to come before Him. He desires all people to be reconciled to Himself and be made new. Whenever I think about having to hide my identity, I am reminded that I can embrace who I am because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. There is a better truth to be told, and a better kingdom to live for. God is not ashamed of my Korean heritage; He crafted me intentionally as a Korean. The church can and should be a space where I can bring the fullness of who I am. In the body of Christ, there shouldn't be this fear that the articulation of frustrations and difficulties somehow disqualifies one from the body (even if it makes one uncomfortable). In the body of Christ, I should never have to ask or say “If I have conflict with you, will I lose you?” I am grateful that I know a God who is present in suffering and who experienced the worst of it all. As I am His son, He welcomes and invites me to share what I’m going through; I don’t have to have the verisimilitude of contentment or happiness if the situation is stressful, yet I know that my ultimate hope is in Him. He sees me in this struggle and says that there is better to come, that there is faithfulness in suffering and the trials we experience are nothing compared to the joy we will receive.

Zachary Jungmo (정모) Lee

PART 4: ENCOURAGEMENT

When it comes to loving our Asian-American brothers and sisters, we have to realize that, as with all love, we cannot do it on our own. We can love others extravagantly and freely because of the love that God has for us, which He has shown to us through the death and the resurrection of Jesus on the cross. From the overflow of our intimacy with Him, we love others. Surely, there are very practical things that we can do, such as initiating conversations with our Asian friends and letting them know first, without them even having to bring up the topic, that we care for them and we are there for them. But at the end of the day, we need to come together (virtually), so that we can pray together.

I was particularly encouraged listening to a podcast on NPR by Erika Lee, a historian at the University of Minnesota who studies history, immigration, and epidemics. In an episode titled “When Xenophobia Spreads Like A Virus,” she said that “Racist scapegoating and outright discrimination do not have to accompany this anxiety towards the virus. It’s an unfortunate echo of the past but it does not have to be.” [3] How simple yet bold of a proclamation is that? It doesn’t have to be. I was struck by Lee’s choice to not put any follow-up words to why the “unfortunate echo of the past” shouldn’t repeat itself. It really doesn’t have to be an echo of the past. Likewise, in our response to end the outright discrimination towards our Asian-American brothers, we don’t need to have too many words nor explanations. We must simply come together alongside our Asian brothers and sisters. So how do we love our Asian-American community? Lean into their voices and listen to them. Relinquish the story that you are good or a hero. As you tell the truth (before man and God), join me in believing that Jesus will deliver us and in proclaiming, both with our words and with our lives, “But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Sophia Minyoung (민영) Jeon


 

Yes, the body of Christ can show a different story. For many students at Cornell, grappling with the worries of the virus is just as horrifying as processing xenophobia that accompanies it; student Sidney Malia Waite writes, “There is a double crisis happening in this world, of both health and injustice. Because while a global viral outbreak is distressing and scary, so too is the profound racism and xenophobia that it has unmasked.” Even in this time of distance, there are ways to share the ultimate narrative of hope that is found in Jesus. I ponder and internalize Pastor Thabiti Anyabwile’s words below: “Lord willing, this period of social distancing will one day end. When it does, I pray we have not socially distanced ourselves even more by allowing the creeping, crouching, devouring sin of racial prejudice and bigotry to curl up in our lives. Our depravity is being revealed to us. May God give us grace to be better rather than bitter.” Maranatha. Come Lord Jesus.

Zachary Jungmo (정모) Lee