Introduction
sian
Christian theology, as a self-conscious international movement
among Asian theologians and church leaders, is a recent phenomenon,
one that some Asian churches have contributed to more than
others.Few Asian nations, however, have been as "silent"
theologically as Thailand, and from an international perspective,
it would seem fair to wonder if "Thai theology"
even exists, particularly among Thai Protestants. There are
no "name" Thai theologiansor regionally discussed
Thai theologies. In recent decades, the Thai Protestant church
has produced several scholar-teachers in Biblical Studies,
Ethics, Church History, and Practical Theology. One can point
to a number of Thai and English language theses, articles,
and books in each of these fields, written by Thai authors
themselves. Noticeably absent from this list of theological
fields is Systematic Theology. There are no courses in Thai
theology, as such, and Thai seminarians confront the seldom-used
term "Thai theology" with an air of perplexity,
occasionally even asking, "What do you mean by 'Thai'?" One can scan the tables of contents, bibliographies, and indexes
of monographs, anthologies, and journals in the field of Asian
theology and only rarely come across a Thai name or contribution.
The situation within the Thai church itself seems strikingly
similar. Thai churches have developed no self-conscious theological
tradition of their own and generally seem content to repeat
the theological truisms they learned from their missionary
founders and benefactors.
5
If
one listens gently, however, it eventually becomes clear
that Thai Protestants have a theology profoundly grounded
in Thai social conceptions, one that takes God to be the
church's Spiritual/Heavenly Patron. It has a christology
equally grounded in the Thai language and the institution
of the monarchy, a "processional" understanding
of Christ as the Royal King of Power who rules over creation
and the church compassionately. These and other theological
themes remain largely hidden from view, still awaiting scholarly
investigation—still waiting for Thai theologians to
voice them in a more reflective, systematic manner. The
church in Thailand, that is continues to wait for its own
theological successor(s) to Koyama's
Waterbuffalo Theology,
the only widely known professional theology produced in
the (northern) Thai context.
Although
most of Thai Protestant theology, like the theologies of
all churches and nations, is largely repetitive, conservative,
uncritical (of itself), and very ordinary, it has its creative
moments—moments when churches and individuals accomplish
something more than merely repeat the commonly held theological
truisms of their denomination. Such moments reveal the context
of Thai theological reflection and point to the key themes,
which covert Thai theologians explore as they unconsciously
"do" theology. The author witnessed and participated
in such a moment, which took place in a Church of Christ
in Thailand (CCT) congregation near Chiang Mai and presents
it here as a story that lifts the veil on covert Thai theology—if
not fully, at least in part.
The
Suwanduangrit Church is located some 20 kilometers east
of Chiang Mai in the community of Ban Dok Daeng (literally,
"Red Flower Village"), a relatively prosperous
rural-suburban village similar to many other older communities
that ring this rapidly growing urban center. The only thing
that distinguishes Ban Dok Daeng from most of those other
villages is that it has a Christian church. It is a mark
of distinction that some of the village's residents would
just as soon do without. There
6
has long been a deep undercurrent of tension between the
Buddhist majority and the Christian minority, which is largely
clumped together in its own "quarter" in the south
end of the village. Why that tension has existed and what
the Suwanduangrit Church has done in recent years to overcome
it is the focus of this story.
The
Church
American
Presbyterian missionaries founded the Suwanduangrit Church
on Christmas Day 1880 in the village of Mae Dok Daeng (meaning
" Red Flower Creek"; the name has since been modified).
For a time during the 1890s, the missionaries called it
the "Diamond of the North," a preciously faithful
church that set the standard for other congregations. Through
good times and bad, it remained a large church by Thai Protestant
standards, usually numbering over 200 communicant members.
In 1933, the church officially renamed itself the Suwanduangrit
Church, the name being a combination of the names of two
of its founding fathers. After 1950, however, the congregation
experienced hard times, caused by a combination of events
including the withdrawal of a large part of its membership
to form a separate church, internal squabbles that saw some
members leave the Christian faith entirely, and the sheep-stealing
depredations of sectarian missionaries. By the early 1970s,
only a small handful of people still gathered for worship
in Mae Dok Daeng, but in the late '70s the congregation
began to show some signs of renewal; and over the course
of the next twenty years, it quietly, modestly grew in numbers
and activities under the leadership of two key elders. In
1990, it built a new church building, and the congregation
could no longer be typified as weak, although it remained
a modest sized church. Since the mid-1980s, the church has
drawn further strength from the presence of two families
that include three theologically trained individuals, including
the author's family, which moved to Ban Dok Daeng in 1993
after a long association with the church going back to 1981.
Like
other Thai Protestant churches, the Suwanduangrit Church
has generally stood apart from the communal life of its
village in spite of the fact that there were several interfaith
nuclear families and that most of the Christians have Buddhist
relatives. Christians took no part in wat (Buddhist
temple) activities other than to help with cooking at temple
festivities when called upon to do so. Christians would
attend those festivals and other events, such as funerals,
but strictly as visitors. In this
7
atmosphere of mutual distrust, the church lived largely
for itself and took no thought as to how it might act as
a witness to the love of God in Christ or carry out peacemaking
activities. Its neighbors, in any event, would have treated
any form of community involvement with suspicion, based
on their general perception of Christians as being soul
winning "head hunters."
The
Revolution of 1996
In
1990, the Suwanduangrit Church dedicated its new church
building. Not long thereafter Wat Ban Dok Daeng, the local
temple, began to construct a new phraviharn, the
main building and ritual center of any Thai Buddhist wat.
By early 1996, the building was nearly complete, and the
temple committee made plans for a poy luang, a
major three-day celebration. The committee informally communicated
with the church's leaders, wanting to know how the church
would participate in the festivities. They made it clear
that the usual policy of silence by the church was unacceptable
to the larger community. Representatives of the wat
suggested, unofficially, that the church join the rest of
the community in donating a tonkuatan, a "money
tree," to the wat. These "trees"
are made of bamboo frames shaped into different forms, most
frequently resembling a tree. Money and other offerings
such as packets of soap, spoons, candies, and other small
items are hung on the trees. Some are quite artistic and
show time, effort, and creative thought. They can stand
as tall as two meters in height and require from two to
four persons to carry them on their shoulders to the wat.
This
request sparked a crisis in the life of the church. During
the early months of 1996, it held a series of council and
congregational meetings that discussed the temple's overtures
at worried length. Although some members expressed irritation
at the wat for being pushy, the major issues that
emerged were theological ones. What is the extent to which
the church can participate in the activities of another
religion without violating the First Commandment? Does official
participation in wat activities constitute idolatry?
Underlying these precise questions was the deeper feeling
that it is "wrong" for Christians in Ban Dok Daeng
to mix religiously with
8
Buddhists.
The issues, then, had to do with theological boundaries
and ecclesiastical identity, and, not surprisingly, the
church split into two groups over them. One side wanted
to limit any participation as much as possible, some even
wondering if donating money to the temple in and of itself
violated the biblical commandments. The other side desired
better relations with their Buddhist neighbors. Northern
Thai rural values place heavy emphasis on unity and generosity,
values the church had long transgressed in its quest for
ecclesiastical purity. Both groups in the dispute looked
to their own leading elder. The church had no pastor, and
the lay moderator at that time was the leading voice urging
participation in the temple's festival to as full an extent
as possible.
Inevitably,
the congregation turned to its three theologically trained
members for advice. All three observed that the church had
great freedom in deciding what to do. They urged that the
Bible enjoins Christians to love their neighbors and to
be peacemakers, but all three also reminded both sides regarding
the Pauline injunction to preserve the unity of the church.
While helpful, this advice did not resolve the issues or
differences. It happened, however, that the then Moderator
of the CCT, the Rev. Samran Kuangwaen, appeared in worship
one Sunday morning; the Suwanduangrit Church is his home
church, and he comes to worship with the church whenever
he has the opportunity. The moderator of the church, after
worship, asked him to speak about the issue of the church's
participation in the temple's celebration. Ach. Samran encouraged
the church to participate as fully as possible—just
so long as it did not actually join in formal Buddhist ritual.
There had already been some movement toward responding positively
to the temple's overtures, and now that movement gained
momentum. The question was no longer whether the church
would join in the temple's celebration of its new building,
but only the extent of its participation.
That
momentum was confirmed at the church council's meeting in
February 1996 when the leading voice of the "separatist"
side agreed that the church should involve itself in the
temple's celebration. He spoke, he said, in light of the
assurances of the theologically trained members and the
opinions of the CCT's Moderator. His assent did not resolve
all of the tensions involved, and throughout the church's
discussions and subsequent actions some members remained
silently hesitant and
9
uneasy.
In further discussions and meetings, however, the membership
progressively decided that the church could donate money
to the
wat. It could put its donation on a money
tree. It could join the other villagers in an evening procession
in which the temple faithful carried their family money
trees to the
wat. Finally, the members decided
that the Christians could actually enter the new
phraviharn and receive the traditional blessing given to those who
brought their offerings to the
wat. The congregation
decided, on the advice of its lay moderator, that receiving
such blessings did not constitute an act of worship even
though it was done in the presence of Buddha images, Buddhist
monks, and with hands held up and together in an attitude
of respect. The Suwanduangrit Church, thus, on the evening
of 1 March 1996, joined its neighbors in a procession to
the
wat, its own money tree in tow.
In
an email to family and friends at the time, the author related
the following (edited) description of the event: "As
befits the season, the day started out cool and then quietly
heated up as the morning passed. By midmorning, various
families were assembling their offerings to carry to the
wat in the evening. These frequently consisted
of foldaway chairs and tables, all of an agreed upon brand
and style. Folded out, they were lashed to long bamboo carrying
poles. Flowers and other decorations were added to give
color and festive highlights to the offerings. Other homes
were assembling the more traditional 'money trees' that
go with wat (temple) festivities.
"At
the church, we began to gather just before 10:00 am to work
on our money tree. It was a simple frame, more than a meter
in height. To this frame, we attached 'branches' of split
bamboo into which were inserted bills of various denominations20s,
50s, and 100s. The church itself donated 2,000 baht and
members added to it another 3,000 plus baht. As some members
sat on mats attaching the bills to the branches, others
made paper flowers, and still others came and went bringing
with them their gifts for attachment. Buddhist neighbors
and relatives had some part in all of this, but church members
themselves did most of the work.
"As
the day wore on, the village was inordinately busy and alive
as people were busily engaged in the preparation of food,
of offerings for the wat, and in socializing on
a village wide scale. About 7:15 pm, the church's bell began
to ring, perhaps a little more rapidly and insistently than
is usual. We quickly made our way down the street to the
church building. It was all lit up and a fair crowd was
gathered
10
there, including some
30 or more church members plus assorted neighbors and relatives.
In the midst of the crowd was the church's money tree with
the church's name, "Khrischak Suwanduangrit,"
featured prominently on it. Around the church, we could
hear the rhythmic beat of the drums and gongs that accompany
processions in Thailand—and now and again the trilling
ululation that goes along with them. Candles were passed
out for the Christians to carry, we grouped together for
a couple of pictures, and then the moderator formed us up
to process to the
wat. As we went, we merged with
groups coming out of their homes with their offerings of
tables and money trees. The narrow streets were quickly
filled with bouncing, swaying money trees. Drums and gongs
led us. Here and there, "well oiled" dancers clapped
and jiggled to the rhythm of the drums. Again, the trilling
wove its way through the sounds of chatter, of drums, and
of shouting children. None of this is new in Ban Dok Daeng.
What was new was the Christians, straggling along at the
back—but in the procession. Several times, Buddhist
villagers, standing on the sides of the street, expressed
their pleasure at our presence ("
yindee, yindee").
"The
whole procession took less than 30 minutes to complete.
The wat grounds were lit up with bright neon lights
everywhere. Pennants and flags decked it out, and a crowd
had assembled to watch the parade of offerings and gifts.
We entered the grounds behind the others and joined them
in processing once around the Viharn before entering it.
The interior of the Viharn was crowded with offerings and
gifts and the assembled faithful, men to the front, women
to the back. At the very front sat the beaming abbot, microphone
in hand. As we pressed into the cramped space inside, one
of the wat faithful talked at us continually on
the PA system. Welcoming, informing, cajoling us to crowd
in. He kept up a constant patter as we worked our way towards
the culminating ceremony of the evening.
"
Eventually, the crowd quieted down, and the brief ceremonies
began. This was the moment of truth for the Christians.
One of the objections voiced among us from the beginning
was that we would have to participate in Buddhist ritual.
Christians have long been taught that we are not allowed
to do so. The moderator quickly found a solution to our
dilemma. In this particular case, the heart of the ceremony
was a "nonreligious" blessing given by a lay leader
rather than the abbot. The moderator instructed us that
we could raise our hands in the Thai prayer like
11
gesture of respect (
wai) during this
blessing. He was careful also to remind the
wat folks in advance that the Christians should not be put in
an awkward situation about religious ceremony. They know
this already, having lived with Christians for about twelve
decades now. And we were blessed, and we joined our neighbors
in showing respect for the moment. It was surely the first
time in the history of the community that the Christians
joined the Buddhists in such a moment in the Buddhist context.
During the brief period of religious chants that followed,
we reverted quietly to our style of unobtrusively waiting
with our hands folded in our laps.
"There
followed remarks by the abbot in which he profusely thanked
the Christians for their participation. He used our Christian
words entirely correctly. He knew how we style ourselves
and think of ourselves. It was clear from his words that
our presence was deeply meaningful for him, something he
surely never expected to witness. At this point, we all
dispersed, the whole event, from beginning to end, lasted
only slightly longer than an hour. After all the discussion,
worry, and preparation the actual event was almost anticlimactic."
Life
for the Suwanduangrit Church then returned to its normal
routine, apparently little changed by its "revolutionary
moment" in March 1996. During the next five years,
however, it sponsored two special worship services in memory
of church members who had died. In a somewhat unusual gesture,
it invited non-Christian descendants/relatives to participate
in both services. The ritual was purely Christian, but time
was given for all participants to place flowers before pictures
of their departed parents, grandparents, spouses, and other
honored relatives—an act that again cut across religious
boundaries, this time in a Christian context. It must be
admitted, however, that many members retained their separatist
attitudes and, at times, openly resisted suggestions that
Buddhist villagers be included in Christian events. Resentment
lingered over past acts of petty persecution, supposed and
actual, by the Buddhist majority.
The Revolution Comes
Home
The
revolutionary moment of 1996, then, seemed to be nothing
more than a moment. The fundamental shift in the church's
relationship with its neighbors remained largely hidden—until
November 2000 when the Suwanduangrit Church was close to
completing its new multipurpose hall. The village head man
and others
12
approached the new
moderator, the elder who had been identified with the separatist
faction of the church in 1996, and asked if the
wat could hold a procession and bring a money tree for the church
in anticipation of the dedication of the new hall. These
representatives said they wanted to repay the church's generosity
of 1996 and show their community unity. The congregation
readily agreed to the temple's request and, for good measure,
did up its own money tree. One family in the church decided
to prepare a separate money tree, and on 8 October 2000,
three money trees were brought as offerings given during
a brief Christian worship service.
The
precedent had been set, and as the church neared completion
of its new hall, both it and the community began to discuss
plans for the dedication. In the past, the church would
have simply held a major worship service, inviting Chiang
Mai area churches to attend; on this occasion, however,
it also had to make provision for a community celebration.
The committee in charge decided to hold a festive evening
approximating a temple festival. It invited a Christian
music group that emphasizes using traditional northern and
popular northeastern Thai music in worship to provide the
music for the evening. A group of women prepared traditional
dances. Games and food stalls were added to the arrangements
and the committee worked out a program for the evening.
Central to these preparations was a special blessing service
at which money trees from the wat, the church,
and several families were to be presented; the church even
received word that a neighboring church planned to bring
a money tree as well. The contrast between all of these
plans and 1996 could hardly have been greater. The "separatist
group" had all but disappeared; members of families
that in the past tended to stay aloof from the Buddhist
community now happily worked on money trees for the church.
On
the evening of 29 December 2000, the church held its own
festival, decidedly along the lines of a northern Thai temple
festival. Important things happened. Eight money trees were
presented and blessed. A large crowd of the church's Buddhist
neighbors attended, processing to the church just as they
would to the wat. The Christian men prone to drink
stayed sober (or at home). There was no Christian worship
service, as such, but during the blessing ceremony a group
of
13
members led the assembled
crowd in singing a hymn set to the northern Thai dialect;
most of our Buddhist neighbors could not sing it very well,
but they were so taken with the hymn that they asked the
leaders to please lead them in it a second time. The blessing
itself, delivered by a Christian clergyman, incorporated
Christian as well as traditional formulas and the assembled
crowd, Buddhist and Christian, received it with inordinate
attention and silence. After a meal, the evening's festivities
began. The music was very good, the churchwomen's dancing
pleasing and fun, and the games and other activities were
all well received. Being a Christian or with Christians,
for once, was fun.
The
final episode of this story takes place at Wat Ban Dok Daeng.
In mid-March 2001, the temple dedicated its own multipurpose
building and cremated the former abbot in an elaborate and
expensive ceremony that attracted a huge crowd. The temple
festival that preceded the cremation attracted even larger
crowds. By this time, precedent had become tradition. The
Suwanduangrit Church now had its own money tree, and the
discussions concerning the church participation in the temple's
celebration had to do strictly with matters of procedure.
What night would we process to the temple? How much should
we give? In the end, a large group of Christians joined
with a number of individual Buddhist families in a miniprocession
that the Christians led, dancing to the rhythms of Christian
gongs and drums (in 1996, the Christians walked at the back
and did not dance). The congregation gave the temple a generous
donation, no one in the church questioning the propriety
of the gift or raising objections to its size. On the day
of the abbot's cremation, individual families as well as
neighboring temples set up food stalls, giving away free
eats of a wide variety. Among those stalls was one that
carried the name, "Khrischak Suwanduangrit."
While
it is still too early to judge, it appears that the Suwanduangrit
Church has established a new, more open relationship with
it Buddhist neighbors in Ban Dok Daeng. The members speak
openly and happily of a new sense of unity in the village.
A wedding held in the church's new multipurpose hall between
a young member and his Buddhist bride included pieces of
traditional northern Thai ritual seldom seen in a Christian
wedding, if ever. Faced with the problem of a cemetery with
little room left, members of the church seem willing to
consider the possibility of cremation with
14
less fearful reserve than would once have been
the case. The church has conducted its first cremations,
again mixing in more traditional aspects associated with
Buddhist cremations. In light of these hints and indications,
it is not an overstatement term the events of 1996 and 2000-2001
as "revolutionary".
Reflections
While
the events in the life of the Suwanduangrit Church over
the last five years are not representative of local Thai
Protestant theology and in fact, are decisively atypical
of the behavior of all but a very few Thai Protestant churches,
they still reveal important themes in local Thai theological
reflection. They instruct us, that is, in how Thai churches
go about the task of behaving theologically. First,
the congregation's theology was church based, the "work"
of the whole church rather than particular individuals.
It was a "negotiated theology" and a "political
theology" that, perhaps unintentionally, adhered to
the Pauline injunctions to not engage in activities that
will destroy the unity of the church or cause weaker members
to stumble. In 1996, the members of the Suwa nduangrit Church
intensively negotiated among themselves the congregation's
theological response to its neighbors' demands for greater
village unity. The church preserved a semblance of unity
that smoothed the way for the events of 2000 and 2001 with
members who remained aloof from the church's initial venture
into the wat participating enthusiastically five
years later. At the very least, it seems evident that Thai
local theology as conducted in Ban Dok Daeng demonstrates
a deep concern for community.
Second,
Thai local theology, in this case, emerged in the immediate,
even dominating presence of the church's Buddhist neighbors.
Buddhism and Buddhists are an inescapable reality for Thai
local theology. It should be remembered, however, that the
Suwanduangrit Church's Buddhist context is not that of classical
Buddhism, the Buddha, or even the most creative Thai Buddhist
teachers such as Buddhadhasa. The Buddhism the church encounters
in Ban Dok Daeng is village, culture Buddhism, a religious
suasion that has its weaknesses as well as its strengths.
During the debates of 1996, for example, one of the congregation's
elders forcefully argued that Buddha images are
idols if one considers the way in which our flesh and blood
neighbors actually treat them. He worried over the question
of whether the church was not implicitly condoning idolatry
by participating in the dedication of a phraviharn
filled
15
with gleaming images of
the Buddha.In this village context, then, Thai communal
theology necessarily looks on the religion of its neighbors
with a certain ambivalence as it seeks to discern its duty
to God and neighbor.
At the
same time, the relationship between the religious thought
of the temple and the theology of the church in Ban Dok
Daeng also exhibits a more complex relationship than members
of the congregation might admit or even realize. The church
shares a great deal with the temple in terms of attitudes
about worship (merit making), stewardship, and living according
to a religious law that regulates communal and personal
behavior. Its active worship life almost exactly parallels
the temple's ceremonial life as to occasion (such as funerals,
weddings, and house warmings) and religious meaning (seeking
cosmic/divine protection and benevolence). The case is the
same in terms of financial giving. Both temple and church
emphasize building up a large, well-developed physical plant.
The church, furthermore, shares its Buddhist neighbors'
concern to live proper lives according to a defined dharma
(teaching), the Christian dharma being taken from the Bible.
Apart from the lyrics of translated Western hymns, the sense
and experience of God's grace in Christ is seldom mentioned.
The Suwanduangrit Church's theology, thus, is communal in
yet another way, namely in the fact that the church unconsciously
draws on religious themes taken from its larger community.
Third,
the story of the Suwanduangrit Church's all but revolutionary
reorientation of its relationship to its community reveals
that Thai local theology looks to respected, trustworthy
authorities to validate its theological views. During the
debates of 1996, the congregation turned repeatedly to the
three theologically trained members of the church for reassurance
that it could actually donate a money tree to the wat
and take part in the temple's blessings ceremony. If, at
any time, any of the three had objected to these acts, the
process would have come to a halt. The role of the CCT's
Moderator was even more important as he spoke with the authority
of the whole church. He was doubly respected as a "local
boy" who had risen to the highest elective office in
the national church. His assurances were crucial. He spoke
with some feeling about the tensions between Christians
and Buddhists in Ban Dok Daeng, tensions he had experienced
personally. He urged the church to change its relationship
with the village, virtually saying that the more it felt
it could do (up to a
16
point) the
better it would be for the church and the community. Thai
communal theology, thus, requires the sanction of respected
authorities. One could hardly expect it to be otherwise,
given the nature of Thai society itself, which tends to
be conservative and dependent on the voices of strong patrons
even in this age of budding democracy. The Suwanduangrit
Church found itself in the unusual position of being urged
to change by its authority figures, and the Revolution of
1996 could not have taken place if those figures had not
given the church permission to carry it out.
Fourth,
Thai communal theology pays attention to the Bible. The
current moderator of the Suwanduangrit Church, who was very
hesitant in 1996 about the church's actions, has publicly
justified the congregation's (and his own) changed attitude
about the wat on a number of occasions, citing
the Bible in each case. At one point, he argued that the
congregation had done nothing more than what Jesus himself
did when Jesus sat with tax collectors and other sinners
and when he attended community festivities, even turning
water into wine. The comparison of our Buddhist neighbors
with the biblical tax collectors may not be the happiest
parallel possible, but it does indicate a changed perception
of how the church should relate to those it formerly held
in disdain. At another time, he insisted that the church
was merely fulfilling its role as a peacemaker, in accordance
with biblical injunctions. As we have already seen, the
theological "authorities" of the congregation
laid considerable emphasis on the biblical mandate to love
one's neighbor. To be sure, most of the members of the congregation
have only a rudimentary grasp of biblical teachings, but
they are sufficiently Christian and Protestant to worry
over whether or not their actions might conflict with those
teachings.
Fifth,
Thai local theology concerns itself with boundaries, particularly
in ritual and worship. Once it was resolved in 1996 that
the congregation could finance its own money tree and march
in procession with the rest of the village, the focus of
the most anxious discussions fixed on the ritual the Christians
would have to participate in inside the phraviharn.
Was it religious? Would it involve paying religious respect
to the monks or the images? The church crossed the final
hurdle in its encounter with its neighbors when the then
moderator assured the members that nothing more was involved
than the giving of a traditional northern Thai blessing
that was not
17
essentially religious.
That claim requires careful consideration, for it reveals
a key tension in contemporary Thai theological thought.
If one attempts to take a strictly "objective,"
Western Enlightenment view of the matter, the moderator's
claim that the temple's blessings ceremony is not "religious"
seems questionable. A Buddhist "lay reader" led
the ceremony in the temple in a merit-making context. Yet,
the church, including even the leading elder of the "separatist"
group, accepted the moderator's assertion the ceremony was
"really" only a traditional Thai one and not essentially
religious.
It must
be understood that the Suwanduangrit Church was actually
engaged in a redefinition of religious boundaries, a key
issue for Thai local theology. Missionary Christianity planted
within the Thai church a Western style dualism deeply concerned
with protecting Christian purity from any defilement by
"heathen" practices.
The Thai church has especially emphasized refraining from
participation in Buddhist-animist ritual and ceremony as
a key way of protecting its purity, and one finds Thai Protestant
Christians constantly worrying over the question of idolatrous
behavior in situations in which they are faced with having
to join in Buddhist rituals—such as at funerals, opening
exercises in schools, and community events. The general
rule has been to take a hard line approach, one that adheres
to as strict a definition of the boundaries between Christianity
and Buddhism as possible. This is, admittedly, a very Western
way of looking at religious boundaries, and contemporary
Thai theology is profoundly marked by this foreign approach
to interreligious engagement (or, disengagement).
Tongchai
Winichakul's excellent study of the impact of Western conception
of the maps and mapping on Thailand provides an instructive
parallel to the role of sharply drawn boundaries in Thai
Protestant Christianity. Tongchai observes that before the
advent of Western mapping, shifting allegiances among the
rulers of Southeast Asia's empires and petty states left
political boundaries fluid, diffuse, and ill defined. Smaller
states frequently gave allegiance to two power centers,
so that travelers only gradually moved across the "boundary"
between those centers. The European colonial powers, however,
could not tolerate this hazy attitude toward
18
boundaries and insisted upon carefully surveying
and marking out the
lines between each state and
territory.
Asia's rulers, today, accept the Western concept of political
boundaries, and, by the same token, the Thai church has
accepted a Western conception of how Christians draw boundaries
between themselves and the world. It is a conception that
is not "natural" to the Thai religious consciousness,
which generally holds to the principle that "all religions
teach the same thing, namely that people should do good
instead of evil." Our neighbors in Ban Dok Daeng have
no trouble joining the church in its worship or in praying
with its members when they pray, but Christians have absented
themselves from as much of Buddhist ceremonial life as possible.
The
congregation's moderator in 1996 was, unconsciously, resorting
to a more Thai-like attitude about religious boundaries
when he claimed that the temple ceremony was "traditional"
rather than "religious". Such an attitude allows
the church to redefine its neighbors' religious life in
new ways, ones that do not threaten the purity of the church.
If the church, in other words, agrees that a certain Buddhist
ceremony is not a religious rite but merely a northern
Thai traditional ceremony, then there is no problem
with participating in it. Ultimately, just as in traditional
Southeast Asia, one does pass into the clear center of a
particular prince's territory; for the Suwanduangrit Church
that clear power center is now defined by actual giving
respect to a Buddha image. That act, church members have
agreed in an all but official way, is the act that they
will not engage in. Previously, however, they refused to
light incense sticks in respect of the dead, refused to
present robes to monks at funerals on behalf of the deceased,
refused to join in string tying ceremonies, and refused
to do many other things, which Ban Dok Daeng Christians
(and not a few other northern Thai Christians) now accept
and do. Some of the church members still do not do some
or all of these things, but they are no longer so apt to
criticize those who do. The ritual boundary between the
church and its neighbors has become more fluid, after the
manner of Thai religious consciousness and traditional Southeast
Asian political practice.
19
Finally,
Thai local theology at Ban Dok Daeng shares certain theological
characteristics in common with the professional, generally
seminary-based Asian theological movement such as the Programme
for Theology and Cultures in Asia (PTCA). The most important
of those characteristics is its struggle with its dualistic,
Western missionary past just mentioned above. The inescapable
starting point of the professional Asian theological movement
has been in its reaction against the cultural and spiritual
constraints imposed upon Asian church life by missionary
theologies that absolutely rejected Asian religious consciousness
and much of Asian culture. C. S. Song states,
In recent years we thinking Christians and theologians
in Asia have, at long last, come to realize that we
cannot continue to sing somebody else's theological
tune. It has dawned on us that we must find our own
theological voice. It has become abundantly clear
that our own cultures, religions and histories, unrelated
historically to Christianity, pose fundamentally theological
questions and challenges we can no longer ignore.
The stereotyped theological and missiological pronouncements
on our cultural, religious and historical realities
made by our mentors in the West, if not entirely fallacious,
are invalid and misleading.  |
In the context of Ban Dok Daeng, missionary
theology has distorted and disrupted the church's relationship
to its neighbors, returning it functionally to an Old Testament
understanding of one's neighbor, as being limited to other
members of the "covenant of faith" (see Leviticus
19:18). Jesus and the early church extended the concept
of neighbor to include virtually the whole of the human
race (see Luke 10:25-37, Romans 13:8-10, and James 2:8)
, but the Suwanduangrit Church found it all but impossible
to love its Buddhist neighbors in ways that its neighbors
felt were loving. The congregation's revolutionary
re-orientation of its relationship to its neighbors, thus,
necessarily involved a critique of the theological strictures
laid upon it by its Western theological heritage.
At
the same time, however, the Suwanduangrit Church's decisions
to participate in the religious activities of its Buddhist
neighbors more fully and openly
20
represented
a positive act of affirmation far more than a negative act
of rejection. While the congregation did reject elements
of its missionary past, that rejection was largely implicit
and unconscious. Consciously and explicitly, it affirmed
certain northern Thai communal values and embraced particular
traditions that it had previously rejected or ignored. Thus,
for example, it redefined the money tree as being a traditional
Thai way of making donations rather than as an essentially
Buddhist act of merit making. That is to say that the congregation
consciously engaged, after the fashion of Asian theologians,
in an act of appropriating Asian "resources" for
the conduct of its own life while reshaping its thinking
and behavior into a more Asian mode. Its behavior in 1996
and 2000-2001 fits well with Piers' redefinition of baptism
in the Asian context. Piers writes, "Translated for
our times, baptism is not to pour water on somebody and
bring him or her into the church—which does not do
service to anybody—but to pass through the act of
humility by which the church is baptized into the Asian
environment."
When the Suwanduangrit Church processed to the temple with
its money tree and received the blessings of its Buddhist
neighbors, these events marked an important baptism into
its Thai environment.
Asian
professional theology and the theology practiced by the
members of the Suwanduangrit Church both begin as critiques
of orthodox Western dualistic theology. Both proceed methodologically
by appropriating Asian sources, traditions, and patterns
for the use of the Christian faith, fitting the faith to
Asia as much or more than fitting Asia to the faith. Both
also share a similar end, namely liberation. Oracion writes,
Theology is not a tool for constructing an accurate,
objective, and true understanding of self and world.
What it is interested in is the discernment of the
truth of God in history in order that a person of
faith might make a faithful approximation of the liberating
act of Jesus within his or her sociopolitical context.
Theology is supremely interested in asking the question
where and why people are hurting, and what possible
means are available in removing that hurt.  |
21
The village of Ban Dok Daeng had long suffered a serious communal
division along religious lines, a division originally caused
by Christian theological prejudices against peoples of other
faiths. Over the decades, however,
both sides occasionally
treated the other in ways gauged to increase friction and
show disdain. The Christians acted and spoke abusively,
while the Buddhist majority acted oppressively—not
always or even frequently, to be sure, but the prospect
of intracommunal friction has long smoldered, always ready
to leap into flames. In 1996, the Buddhist majority called
on the Christians to behave in new ways, and the church
responded in a peaceable manner quite out of keeping with
the historical experience of the village. By 2001, that
and subsequent peacemaking acts by both sides have substantially
reduced tensions within the village; the seeds of greater
trust seem to be quietly sprouting.
The
members of the Suwanduangrit Church, Ban Dok Daeng, in sum,
are practicing Thai theology, a theology that we have styled
here as being "communal". That theology is church
based, necessarily in dialogue with popular, village Buddhism,
and sensitive to the authoritative opinions of its theologically
trained leaders. It is biblical. It takes a more traditionally
southeast Asian attitude towards theologically defined religious
boundaries. It shares important traits with the professional,
seminary-based Asian theology that has emerged over the
last three decades. Ban Dok Daeng Christian theology, however,
expresses itself through a different medium than the professional
theologians. The professionals generally write their theologies
down on paper and share them in conferences and seminars.
The members of the Suwanduangrit Church dance their theologies
in their community's streets and alleys, the church compound,
and the temple grounds.
Conclusion
Not
long ago, as I sat working on this paper at home, I heard
the sound of the drums, the gongs, and the ululation of
yet another festive procession wending through the quiet
alleyways of Ban Dok Daeng. A young man, on his way to becoming
a novice at the temple, was being processed through the
village by his dancing relatives, friends, and neighbors.
Before 1996, the Christians of Ban Dok Daeng never danced
through the streets of our community. To be sure, some individual
Christians attached themselves to Buddhist processions,
but only as individuals and not as Christians. Christians
had no drums, no gongs. In late 2000 and the early months
of
22
2001, in contrast, they had
become dancers, dancing and processing in the presence of
their neighbors and
with their neighbors. They
had forged a more peaceful relationship with those neighbors
in a theological process strikingly similar to what Koyama
terms "neighborology," which may be defined as
responding in a Christ like manner to the needs and questions
of one's neighbor.
Koyama and the members of the Suwanduangrit Church both
make it clear that in a northern Thai context, theology
is neighborology.
