Some of the stereotypes are simply true. We have a culture that has made it hard for us to talk about ourselves. At times, we have very little sensitivity to what is going on inside of us and can barely name our emotions. Sure, there are the exceptions, but it’s one thing to be loud and obnoxious about the stuff that doesn’t matter, even if they are taboo subjects to Western sensibilities. The stuff that is hard to get to is the stuff we keep under our vest.
Here’s the thing, I know Asian American brothers and sisters who can analyze the junk out of the stock market, or a book of financial reports, or a research project, or even theology…or even Asian American churches. But my heart remains a closed, unanalyzed place. And the miscarriages, the marital strife, the wilderness season when I dropped out of college, the wrestling with pornography, my temper tantrums, and oh my fears, my fears and doubts. And my hatreds. I am just getting to know me.
And therein lies one of the chief problems with talking about what is wrong with the Asian American church, is that I am part of the problem, and I barely know how to talk about myself. And neither do many of my brothers and sisters.