Chapter 1
Develop Your
Cultural Identity
āWhy do you talk about culture so much? I mean, shouldnāt you be talking more about our unity in Christ than our cultural differences?ā
I was in mid-bite of a delicious salami and Gouda sandwich, picnicking with some old college friends. Our kids were playing nearby in the grass, and we had just finished talking about diapers and sleep cycles when one of my friends dropped this question on me. I immediately had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Itās not that I didnāt have an answer to the question. I just didnāt know if I wanted to answer.
Conversations about faith and culture require a good deal of mental and emotional energy. I have to gauge how much the person posing questions knows about the topic and how much information I should supply. Iāve been navigating this issue for a long time. Iāve dedicated my career to writing and speaking on the topic. Yet many people, including the husband and wife asking me the question at that moment, havenāt thought much about it. I know they love Jesus and mean well, but Iām also aware they know almost nothing about the topic. The churches they attend donāt talk about faith, ethnicity, and culture. They donāt listen to, follow, or read anything by Christians of color. My husband and I are the only friends of color they have. But even more than that, Iām trying to discern whether their question comes from a desire to listen and learn or if they just want to debate or put down my ideas.
Iām not picking on them simply because theyāre white. But Iāve been having more and more of these same conversations with white Christians since 2017 when one of the most visible and influential minority evangelicals in the United States, the artist Lecrae, left conservative evangelicalism over cultural differences.1 Some Christians today still donāt understand why a person of color would no longer want to identify as evangelical. Some white Christians feel like African American, Native American, Asian American, and Latino/a (among many other) believers are making too much of their cultural identities. Yet these same white Christians also canāt understand why, after years of dialogue, the chasm between minority Christians like myself and my white brothers and sisters is still growing.
Many white Christians donāt realize that Lecraeās divorce from white evangelicalism was a watershed moment for many minorities. Many of us had spent years feeling like the outsider, like something was wrong with us, and that we should remain silent if we disagreed with our white friends on an issue. I knew I didnāt fit the image or the lifestyle of many white Christians, but there was no space for that in our conversations. However, when Lecrae made his personal frustrations public about the historic disconnect between evangelical faith and culture, I thought, āOh, we get to talk about this now?ā For many of us, the floodgates suddenly burst wide open.
Since then, Iāve grown bolder in talking about my identity and my past, about the ways my faith and culture intertwine, and how my experiences are different from those of white evangelicals. But so often, I am misunderstood. When I bring up topics like cultural differences or ethnic identity, Iām told that Iām being divisive, emphasizing things that shouldnāt be an issue for Christians, and going against the grain of Christian unity, albeit a unity that aligns with the status quo of white evangelicalism.
So when my friends questioned why I was always talking about our differences instead of our unity, I knew this was a layered question. They were suggesting that my faithāand even my way of life as a Christianāshould be acultural. In their minds, different cultural expressions of faith breed disunity and division among Christians. They were hinting that it was time to set aside my ādangerous elevationā of the culture card and instead embrace a ānonculturalā expression of the faith, one that could unify all Christians.
āIsnāt that what Galatians 3:28 says?ā they asked. ā āThere is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.ā If thatās true, then our only distinctive as believers should be Christ.ā
Many of my fellow friends of color no longer engage in these discussions because for too long weāve had to defend the legitimacy of our experiences. In addition, weāve been unduly burdened with the task of teaching white people terms and histories, answering their questions, and speaking on behalf of all people of color everywhere. Itās physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting. I wish it didnāt have to be this way. At the very least, I wish my white friends had more friends of color so that other people could lovingly challenge them and open up space for these conversations. But I havenāt given up yet. Iām still hoping and praying that God will use conversations like this one to change peopleās hearts and open eyes to new perspectives. So I dove in.
āYou know what I hear when you say that? I hear you telling me that I need to hide my Indianness if I want to call myself a Christian.ā
A look of confusion washed over their faces. āNo, you can be Indian,ā they replied, āWeāre not saying that.ā
So I elaborated: āSure, itās okay if I wear a trendy Indian shirt or if we check out a vegan Indian restaurant for dinner. But what if I told you that my Indianness makes me see the world differently than you? I value things that you donāt. I feel uncomfortable in places that are normal to you. Even our definitions of friendship are different.ā
Memories and experiences immediately flooded my thoughts. And I wanted to share it all. I wanted to somehow roll out my life like a movie reel so I could point out every difference, every pain, every moment of isolation. But I also knew that would be like a tidal wave, and I didnāt want to overwhelm them. So I began trying to explain what itās like to be a minority in a majority culture.
āDo you know that almost every white friend Iāve ever had assumes we live our lives the same way? But we donāt. The truth is Iāve learned to hide certain aspects of myself, certain parts of my Indianness, around people with white skin because Iām tired of being misunderstood. My life revolves around talking and acting one way in a white context and another way in a brown context. Honestly, Iād like for you to know more of me, but Iām weary from continually having to explain and defend myself.ā
My friends grew defensive. They interjected and told me that I had it all backward. āMichelle, do you honestly believe thereās more than one way to be a Christian? Everyone who follows Jesus is required to live their lives a certain way, no matter our cultural background.ā
At this point, we were talking past each other. I told them that when I hear āthereās only one way to be Christian,ā I hear them saying that everyone should be like white Christians. But this idea didnāt go over so well. It was met with a quick defense. Of course they werenāt saying that. But now theyāre annoyed because to them it feels like Iām demonizing white people. They make sure I know they attend a diverse church, which for them is a clear sign they value more than just white culture.
But as most people of color know, thereās a big difference between a true embrace of diversity and tokenism. I affirmed what I could, while also pointing out the problem: āYou say diversity is important, but when does diversity go beyond valuing faces with different skin colors? When do people actually embrace different opinions, behaviors, and expressions? Things like how I read the Bible, my views on justice, the poor, and immigration, and what I think is okay and not okay to say about other people. I think what you really want is for people of different ethnicities to think like you do and to prioritize the same things as you. I can be Indian as long as my life doesnāt challenge yours in any way.ā
I wanted to say more. I couldāve said more. But my friends were not convinced. We had come to an impasse, and they asked if we could just agree to disagree. I nodded my head, mostly because I was tired and discouraged. What level of intimacy can our friendship have if we donāt agree on something so basicāthat our cultural differences inherently shape how we follow Jesus?
Redefining Terms
Part of the reason for the confusion we experience in these conversations on culture stems from our yearning for unity. Countless times Iāve heard people try to downplay cultural differences by saying things like, āWe donāt have a culture,ā in an effort to make their churches, homes, or communities feel more welcoming. But this approach inevitably fails, and worse, it isnāt informed by a biblical understanding of culture. Yes, Christians all believe in āone body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in allā (Eph. 4:4ā6). These are the truths of Scripture. But these truths arenāt read, believed, and practiced in a vacuum. They are always culturally expressed. The message of salvation is for every people group. What God has done in Jesus crosses ethnic groups and generational differences and is for everyone for all time, but it is always contextualized from one culture to the next.
This is difficult for many people to accept, largely because we fear the dangers of subjectivity. We donāt want the message of salvation or our theology or what it means to belong to Christ to be just a truth and not the truth. We are nervous about going down a path that implies any particular belief is right or any action is good because itās part of a particular culture. So we reduce the cultural aspect of a belief or a message to the outward clothing that covers the unchanging essence of the gospel. Itās the wrapping that delivers the message.
But what exactly is culture? Is it really just an external addition, like the clothing we wear?
The term culture is one of the most difficult words in the English language. We all have different definitions for this term, and scholars and thought leaders debate its meaning. So I want to be clear about what I mean when I use it. When I refer to culture, Iām referring to the narratives born from our individual ethnicities.2 This is, to some extent, a new way of understanding culture. The term culture traditionally has been used to group whole communities and nations together. However, as new research suggests, that simple conceptualization is no longer applicable within our hybridized global landscape. Dr. Georgia T. Chao and Dr. Henry Moon effectively argue that culture should be used as a construct to distinguish individuals.3 Each of us carry different layers of culture within ourselves. In other words, each of us have a unique cultural narrative, which, as professor of anthropology Brian Howell explains, is a composite of the complex stories we pick and choose from our communities, including our families and our friends, that helps us determine what it means to live a good life and to be a good person. These stories tell us what is normal and right, what is human and what is not. At my core, Iāve collected, organized, and created a unique story that guides the choices I make and the interests I have. My story is similar to those of other Indian Americans, but it is also uniquely my own. The same is true for you. If you were to write down what you think is good, beautiful, and important in this world, youād be formulating your own cultural narrative that is both similar to and distinct from that of your cultural community.
Culture as a narrative system is the definition I recommend you begin to use in your day-to-day life. Itās particularly helpful if you want to have healthy cross-cultural relationships. Seeing culture as a narrative leads us to appreciate each person for who they are instead of valuing them based on where theyāre from or what they do. Our approach to culture should never be merely about nationality, ethnicity, geographical location, language, or material items like food and clothing. All of these markers are fluid and can change. They are also less applicable when people of a certain cultural group live across the world and have blended multiple cultural elements into their lives. Culture is also not about the systems humans can build. Though the English word culture stems from the Latin word cultura, meaning to cultivate, develop, or grow, the assumption that humans are defined by what they create immediately turns the conversation toward biological theories of evolution and who is able to progress the mostāan approach that, throughout history, has threatened human dignity and has flattened diversity and creativity among people groups, especially subdominant cultures.
Cultural narratives, on the other hand, are stories formed and maintained by individuals about ourselves and the world around us. They are stories imbued with ideals and principles regarding family, honor, assertiveness, hard work, and communal living, and they become the glue that holds our way of life together. My cultural identity also inevitably leads to certain cultural expressions. To put it simply, the story of who I am informs the way I live my life. And we begin to understand the spiritual significance of our stories when we look at how culture develops and functions in Scripture.
Seeing Culture in Scripture
When we turn to Genesis and the first accounts of recorded Scripture, we see that you cannot separate culture from creation. In the creation account we read, āSo God created mankind [adam] in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created themā (Gen. 1:27). Here the first humans are simply called adam, or humankind. God doesnāt create a specific race of people. There is no mention of Adam and Eve being Hebrews or Egyptians or Canaanites.4 We canāt even infer a particular skin color, such as whether they are white, Black, or Brown. This is a racially generic human who represents all of humanityāall peoples of all ethnicities and culturesāand we can infer from this that God created all peoples to reflect the image of God. We are all cultural image bearers. Every cultureāwith its unique bodies, voices, thoughts, actions, and valuesāin some way reflects God himself. As difficult as our cultural distinctives can be in relating to one another, we must always remember that one of the greatest ways in which we see the rich and vibrant beauty of our God on display is in the people he created. Moreover, each of our cultural expressions should be equally cherished. There is no particular culture that is superior or inferior. No matter your ethnicity, skin color, or cultural values, you have been made as a bearer of Godās image with dignity and worth equal to every other person. If you donāt value your cultural identity, you are not valuing a vital aspect of the image of God within you. If you donāt value the cultural identity of another person, you are not valuing the image of God within him or her.
This picture of human beings as cultural image bearers is further illustrated in the genealogies of Genesis 5 and 10. Both of these texts describe the lineage of human beings in ethnic-linguistic terms. In Genesis 10 the āTable of Nationsā maps out the descendants of Noah from the line of Seth, and here we see how Godās image bearers spread into the world and develop distinct cultural identities. Going throughout the world and developing unique ethnic narratives is, yet again, a fundamental aspect of what it means to be human.5
The story of the Tower of Babel in Genesis 11 is connected to the cultural commentary of Genesis 10. Too often Godās dispersal of peoples at Babel is read as a curse. Some have even argued that the diversity of people groups and languages is the direct result of human sin. However, if we properly understand the cultural mandate of Genesis 1:28 and 9:1 to increase and fill the earth, we see that Godās plan from the beginning of human history is to promote the spread of different people groups with different languages and ethnicities. The problem in Genesis 11 is that human beings have stopped spreading and diversifying, preferring to congregate in one place and unify around something other than God. Professor of Old Testament and Hebrew Dr. Bruce Waltke explains that, when read together, Genesis 10 and 11 hold a tension of two opposing aspects: āt...