Everybody,
these days, has a theology. In his introduction to Australian
theologies, Goosen describes an extensive list of theologies including
the standard contemporary ones, such as black theology, feminist
theology, liberation theology, and Asian theology. Some of the
more specific and exotic theologies he lists include: Coconut
Theology, Dalit Theology, Minjung Theology, Pakeha Theology, Waterbuffalo
Theology, Boomerang Theology, Gumnut Theology , and Rainbow Spirit
Theology.
These new theologies frequently ignore or even reject traditional
theological categories; and they are increasingly enamored with
local wisdom and pluralistic insights. Global, unified theologies
that claim to speak for a tradition, denomination, or nation are
out. Asian theology, thus, no longer can be said to exist in a
singular sense, a fact symbolized by the subtitle title of the
new Asian theological journal, JCTA, which is "The
Journal of Theologies and Cultures in Asia." All very plural.
So, in this
world of ever more local, ever more plural theologies, why not "Red Flower Theologies"? One of the on-going stories
that HeRB tells is the story
of the Suwanduangrit Church, located in the community of Ban Dok
Daeng, some 20 kilometers due east of Chiang Mai. "Ban Dok
Daeng" translates as "Red Flower Village." The
Suwanduangrit Church has a total baptized membership of just over
120 souls and was founded on Christmas Day, 1880, making it Thailand's
seventh oldest Protestant Church. Previous HeRBs
tell the tale of a significant series of events that have taken
place in Ban Dok Daeng since 1996, which events have led to a
progressive interfaith reconciliation between Buddhist and Christian
members of the community.
For the
Christians of Ban Dok Daeng, an emerging set of Red Flower theologies
lies at the heart of this process of reconciliation. Historically,
the church had long stood off in its own corner of the community,
persistently and stoutly uninvolved as a congregation in the
life of its neighbors. It did not even think of the Buddhists
in the community as being neighbors, seeing them as nothing
more than "khon nok" ("outsiders").
The church's members have experienced the progressive theological
redefinition of the community's Buddhists from khon nok to neighbors,
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therefore, as a theological
journey. The question put to Jesus in Luke 10:29, "Who
is my neighbor?" has become the question facing the Suwanduangrit
Church; and the biblical injunction to love God fully and one's
neighbors as one's self (Luke 10:27) has thus become the unofficial
theme passage of the congregation. That passage is now mentioned
regularly from the church's pulpit and during congregational
meetings. Given the village's long history of sectarian division,
the theological discovery that the temple faithful are also
the church's neighbors has been little short of startling and
liberating.
Christians
in Ban Dok Daeng, as a key element in the process of reconciliation,
now take friendly part at an unprecedented level in the religious
life of their Buddhist neighbors, where prior to 1996 most of
the members refrained from any involvement at all. Attendance
at a range of Buddhist rituals and ceremonies has confronted the
church with theological questions regarding the nature and the
limits of Christian participation in those events. The inherited
wisdom of the church is that participation at all but the most
superficial level is wrong because it condones and takes part
in idolatrous practices. Buddhism, the inherited wisdom teaches,
is a religion founded on idolatry and the futile attempts of its
faithful to win salvation for themselves through merit-making.
It was this wisdom, which led the church to keep to itself. It
was this wisdom that also led the church to hold unfriendly, sometimes
arrogant attitudes towards its Buddhist neighbors.
The Parable
of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10 has stood at the center of the
church's implicit decision to reject its received wisdom. Jesus
himself, in this passage, redefines the meaning of neighbor and
enjoins attitudes and actions that flew in the face of the common
wisdom of his own religion and times. The love of neighbor he
describes in the parable is an active, involved love that is clearly
experienced as loving. Christian neighborliness is effective,
that is, only when our neighbors know that they are loved. If
one is going to love one's Buddhist neighbors in ways that they
perceive as loving, then—in Ban Dok Daeng, at least—one
is going to have to take meaningful part in their religious life.
Our neighbors have made it clear repeatedly that they are offended
by the Christian reluctance to join them in their religious festivities.
When we stay away from the temple and fail to dance through the
streets of our community with our neighbors, we are communicating
a lack of love
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and respect. It does
no good whatsoever to say that certain Old Testament commandments
prevent us from taking part; such protestations are simply taken
as further confirmation that Christians are bad neighbors.
The situation
faced by Christians in Ban Dok Daeng is similar to the one discussed
by Paul in I Corinthians 10 where he struggles with the question
of whether or not Christians in Corinth could eat meat dedicated
to the gods and/or take part in festivities where such food was
served. In I Corinthians 10:31-33, Paul comes to the following
conclusions. First, do whatever you do to glorify God. Second,
don't cause trouble for Jews, Gentiles, or the church. Third,
please everyone so that they might be saved. Glorify God. Behave
peaceably. Communicate the faith savingly. It is the new wisdom
of the Red Flower theologians that Paul's arguments provide them
with further warrant for peace-making participation in the religious
life of their neighbors—as friends, not as judges.
As I was
writing this essay in March 2003, the Suwanduangrit Church was
preparing to participate yet again in a temple fund-raising activity,
which was to include (and did include) a procession through the
community. This occasion marked the fourth time since 1996 that
Christians have joined in such a procession, dancing through the
streets of Ban Dok Daeng with their neighbors. It is important
to note that the temple faithful take part in these processions
as extended families and that the Christians themselves participate
as if they were one such larger family. The members of the church
march together as part of the Christian extended family, not as
members of particular families; and our Buddhist neighbors accept
our participation in this unusual manner as such. They explicitly
accept Christian participation as being Christian. The church's
members share that same consciousness. What they do, they do in
the name of the church and, ultimately (theologically) in the
name of God. For God's glory. To behave peaceably. To communicate,
by their actions, the reconciling Good News of Jesus. It is of
such actions as this that Christians in Ban Dok Daeng construct
their Red Flower theologies, which theologies recall Jesus' teachings
in Luke 10 and Paul's injunctions in I Corinthians 10.
Red Flower
Theology will never be as famous as Minjung theology or as influential
as the grand theological systems of the German masters; it will
never even attain the stature of its predecessor and close kin,
Water Buffalo Theology. Still, in
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its own place and time, I would argue that it has as much integrity
and is as biblical and contemporary as any of the greater strands
of Christian theology. Its beauty is that the Red Flower theologians
are just average people tucked away in a small, not very important
corner of Asia who are progressively articulating their own
fresh understanding of the Christian faith. They are able to
apply the Gospel in a way that eschews the common wisdom they
received from the past while reconfiguring biblical and cultural
values in a theological mix that is at once neighborly and faithful.
Perfect? No, I suppose not. But, then, it is not a simple matter
in a northern Thai context to work out how to love neighbor
while loving God in ways that effectively communicate love to
the neighbor. It is important, however, to take the risk of
loving one's neighbor however imperfectly. The alternative is
to sit on the sidelines of the community afraid to take any
risk and fail to communicate the reconciling, peaceful, and
compassionate love of God in Christ to our neighbors. That alternative
is unacceptable.
Herb Swanson
Ban Dok Daeng
June 2003
Gideon
Goosen, Australian Theologies Themes and Methodologies into
the Third Millennium (Strathfield, New South Wales: St. Paul's
Publications, 200), 19-46.
See
Herb Swanson, Dancing to the Temple,
Dancing in the Church, in HeRB 3;
Ban Dok Daeng Update, in HeRB
4; and, Truly Christian, Truly
Thai, in HeRB 2. Also see the
review of Koyama's Water Buffalo Theology
in HeRB 3. And see Another
Ban Dok Daeng Update in this issue.
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