I’m from Brisbane, a small city in Australia. How is that the Asian American Quadrilateral has made its way over here to the land down under?

Finding the Oasis

As a young leader, I noticed the patterns in the Asian Australian church that parallel what the Asian American church calls the Silent Exodus. The church splits weighed on me, and I saw few answers that worked. Eventually, through God’s providence and some Googling, I found my way to Fuller’s Asian American Center and its classes. It was like discovering an oasis in the desert!

The Asian American Quadrilateral in particular opened my eyes to see the multiple facets of the Asian Australian church experience. My understanding of what I primarily labeled as broad culture problems was expanded with the vocabulary and categories of Migration, Australian Culture and Racialization. Learning the stories of Asian American and Black American Christians helped me see how many in history had suffered to build the foundations of the discipline that I was studying.

Building Something New

As I finished my seminary classes, I was deeply compelled to share what I had learned. For a period, I felt incredibly isolated in Australia. Dr. Lee was incredibly gracious to continually check in, mentoring me from a distance. In time, God led me to find my people here in Australia, individual by individual. And step by step, through each blog post, article, and chapter written through intentional research, the Asian Australian Quadrilateral started to form.

Asian Australian leaders have long benefited from American Evangelicalism: Don Carson, Tim Keller, John Piper, Matt Chandler and even Driscoll are “household names” to many Chinese Australian Christians. But the U.S. is different to Australia; Asian America is different to Asian Australia. I’ve learned that these white American evangelical pastors’ situational awareness was not inclusive of the Asian American Christian experience, and by extension, could not be neatly applied to Asian Australian Christian formation and spiritual practices either.

Here are some of the particularities I’ve observed:

• Students are less likely to move for college. Therefore, this changes the dynamics of Asian heritage churches when young people stay at their home churches longer.

• While Korean Americans dominate the Christian scene in the U.S., Chinese Australians dominate here.

• Unlike the U.S., the discipline of “Asian Australian studies” doesn’t exist here; only networks of Asian Australian scholars.

• Without any comparable civil rights movement, Australians lack racial vocabulary. Even terms like “model minority” and “colorblind” aren’t used here.

• Being so close to Southeast Asia, many Asian Australians come from this region, and so we’ve had to spend more time looking at those migration policies and stories.

• We’ve had to consider the Blak movement in Australia—the important racial work of First Nations which migrants to Australia have ignored and overlooked.

There are significant differences in how we engage, critique, and apply the U.S. resources to the Australian context. Now, I think twice about blindly applying teaching that has worked for some famous pastor overseas to my church context. It’s a reminder of how important it is to identify the contextual location of any teaching, whether it’s first-century Jerusalem, modern-day U.S., or a Chinese heritage church in Australia.

We are indebted to Dr. Daniel D. Lee’s investment into the Australian context over the past couple of years. We can’t wait to welcome Daniel to Sydney and Melbourne in July.

Additional Reading

Dr. Daniel D. Lee’s book, Doing Asian American Theology.

The APAHM series

• The Silent Asian American Majority

• Beyond “So Asian”—Finding a Language for Your Story

• How We Do the Work

• Thou Shalt Be Super Asian: Things God Never Said

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

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As a Filipina American, the oldest daughter of immigrants, who studied psychology and religious studies, and completed a Master of Arts in Theological Studies, my most formative theological education was not in the classroom but at the dinner table.

The Table as Sanctuary

My parents immigrated to the United States with pure grit. They faced the daunting demands of establishing a career and home for their young family while resisting the temptation of total assimilation. They committed to eight-hour days with twelve-hour hearts. They carried an exhaustion that settled into their bones and the weight of building a life in a country that had long primed them to arrive—and then quietly reminded them they did not belong.

And still, despite the exhaustion, every night, we gathered. Dinner, no matter how late, was our place, our nourishment and connection. And more importantly, it was our place to bring our experience of the world to the table and to join one another in making meaning of the strife, suffering, challenge, and hope in front of us.

Dinnertime Exegesis

My parents told stories the way a preacher wrestles with a text: carefully, with attention to what is beneath the surface. They narrated the complexities of their white colleagues—how they moved, what they assumed, what it cost to keep up. They spoke not with bitterness but with the precision of people reading the room for survival. These were not simply family updates. They were a form of exegesis.

The God Who Traveled With Us

And always, the stories returned to God. The God who preserved my grandparents as children during World War II. The God who provided physically and financially for ailing Titas and Titos. The God whose faithfulness appeared in the form of sponsored work visas, then later, green cards, and eventually, a home and a zip code that granted us educational access. The God who had not forgotten us but had been with us intimately through the journey.

This, they communicated to us, is the God who has held us in the grief of leaving home and the grace of arriving somewhere.

This is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, “compassionate and gracious…slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness:” a God who moves through migration, displacement, and wills for shalom.

Storytelling As Resistance

My parents were my first theological teachers. In their own real, raw, and imperfect way, they taught me how to offer my lived experiences in the world to find God at the table.

My Filipino American family has long practiced the ancient tradition of storytelling—wrestling and remembrance. It is the act of locating one’s life within the larger story of God’s active presence and liberating movement in the world.

In a culture shaped by colonial forces that teach us to measure ourselves by white normativity, storytelling is our act of resistance. Just as the early church practiced against Roman occupation, we can practice storytelling to witness God’s advocacy for our collective dignity. To name God is to welcome his compassionate faithfulness and insist on his presence among us.

May the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Maria Raquel, and Joel enliven our stories as we continually come to the table and seek him.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

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Last month, as part of our Asian Pacific American Heritage Month (APAHM) celebrations, the Asian American Center hosted a Women in Ministry Luncheon on Fuller’s campus, gathering local pastors, ministry leaders, mental health practitioners, and students to rest, listen, and share intergenerational wisdom in a sacred space of belonging. Together, we celebrated leadership, nurtured connection, and strengthened one another—reminded that we do not labor alone in the faithful work to which we are called.

On Building the Table

by Gillian Colcol-Garcia

There were no explanations for why this gathering was needed. I knew it the way you know something before you even have the language for it—felt in your body, in the quiet accumulation of moments when you looked around and realized you were the only one, or one of very few, and kept going anyway. Every woman I recruited in the planning process knew it so deeply as well.

We gathered Asian American women in ministry—pastors, ministers, chaplains, elders, spiritual directors, seminarians—to do something deceptively simple: rest, listen, and share wisdom across generations. No agenda beyond that. No platform to build. Just a table, a meal, and the kind of unhurried time that ministry rarely makes room for.

What I did not expect was how quickly the room exhaled.

We asked everyone to share their name, their ministry context, their neighborhood, and where they fell in their sibling order. No explanations. Rapid fire. In a room full of Asian American women, that last question did something. Birth order carries weight in our families. It shapes what we were asked to carry, what we were never asked to carry, and what we quietly picked up anyway. Naming it together, even briefly, was its own small act of recognition.

From there, our panelists led us through three conversations: embracing the call, navigating the institutions that hold it, and sustaining the work for the long haul. These were not abstract topics. They were the questions these women live inside every week—about advocacy, about boundaries, about what it costs to stay and what it costs to leave, about burnout that no one warned you was coming in every season of your life and ministry stage.

God showed up, as God tends to, in the specificity. In the woman who was the first female pastor at her church and said so out loud. In the younger minister who finally had words for what she had been navigating alone. In the new mother leading her century-old congregation. In the laughter that broke open something that had been held too tightly for too long.

As the organizer, I was the one keeping time and making a fuss, like Martha serving Jesus. But I was also in the room, also receiving, like Mary receiving from Jesus. That is its own grace—to build a table and find that it was built for you too.

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On Being Witnessed

by Jessica ChenFeng

I can count on one hand the number of times I have felt the way I did at this gathering of Asian American Women in Ministry: delighted, unselfconscious, filled with deep adoration for my peers, and profoundly seen and loved.

As someone who has planned and executed many conferences, I was struck by the care, attention, and brilliance of my Asian American women pastor friends (Pastora Gillian, Rev. Mary Ellen, Pastor Caroline, Rev. Dr. Janette, Pastor Wisdom), who envisioned and executed this luncheon. But I want to offer you something beyond the usual reflection—a gift of witnessing: a chance to see and feel the attunement that Asian American women in ministry have offered for decades.

The Visible Care

Event logistics are straightforward: space, food, guest list, decor, timing. Yet each was attended to with remarkable care. Unlike many Asian American Christian gatherings that center East Asian culture, this space truly honored our beautiful diversity. I watched my South Asian women in ministry friends—many of whom carry deep pain and loneliness—come together for the first time. Their joy at being together and seen was palpable, and I found myself sharing in it.

And the food. Lumpia. Bánh mì. Spring rolls. Boba. Do you know the time required to identify diverse restaurants, negotiate budgets, and honor our varied heritage through flavor? With food being our language of love, this thoughtfulness ensured that even our tastebuds could taste the care given to each of us.

The Invisible Attunement

More difficult to see, and perhaps more significant, is the attunement to the underlying currents: How might attendees be feeling and experiencing the event? Whose stories are told? How does this shape our ongoing sense of belonging? What gendered expectations can we counter?

Our emcee, the Reverend Dr. Janette Ok, intuitively knew and tenderly attended to all the energies and baggage that might have entered the space. She invited us to release the impostor syndrome we carry from patriarchal church systems—systems where we must constantly prove our worth and end up never feeling enough or belonging as leaders. The women who shared their experiences and wisdom owned their voices and modeled for us a presence that is full of grace, absolute brilliance, and competence—we are so often taught to minimize ourselves to protect others' fragility.

While these photos overflow with joy, they cannot quite convey all that was felt and held in community. This reflection offers a glimpse into the invisible labor of remarkable Asian American women leaders—those rare moments when our labor is truly valued, seen, received, and celebrated. In creating for each other and ourselves from a place of knowing our belovedness and completeness in Christ, we found deep respite, genuine care, and freedom.

What was built that afternoon was more than a luncheon. It was proof that when Asian American women in ministry are given unhurried time, a table set with intention, and the company of those who understand without explanation, something holy happens. Stories find their words. Burdens become lighter in the sharing. Younger women see in their elders what is possible; elders find renewal in those just beginning. We leave less alone than we arrived—and more certain that the work we carry is worth continuing. May we keep building tables like this one, and may we keep finding, every time, that there is room enough for all of us.

If you read this and felt the ache of that recognition—of wanting a room like this—there is a place for you. We invite you to join our Women in Ministry Formation Group, a space for Asian American women to be known, sustained, and sent. Email aac@fuller.edu for more information.

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About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

Thou shalt be super Asian!

Actually…no.

For those of us who grew up in an immigrant church, ethnic and Christian identity were often fused together without question. To be a good Malayali was to be Mar Thoma. To be Korean was to be Presbyterian.

When Culture Becomes Command

This conflation domesticates the gospel—reducing grace and freedom to ethnic and cultural performance. Is there really a commandment that says, Thou shalt be really Asian?

Based on the standards set by some immigrant Christian parents and pastors, it certainly felt that way.

When Authenticity Becomes a Costume

On the other end of the spectrum, many Asian Americans grew up having to compartmentalize, hide, or reject their Asian selves—simply to survive as racial minorities, even within their own churches. For them, the call to affirm their authentic self can be genuinely life-giving. That affirmation is real and necessary.

But it carries its own danger. Authenticity, when it becomes all-consuming, can harden into a different kind of trap. Ironically, some of the most “Asian” expressions of identity I’ve encountered exist here, in the diaspora—more curated, more essentialized than anything you’d find in Seoul or Manila, for example, both of which are globalized, dynamic, and thoroughly post-traditional. When “authentic self” becomes a fixed cultural ideal, we end up cosplaying an ethnicity rather than living from one.

For me as a Korean American, that might look like centering everything on kimchi, K-pop, and han—as though han were the whole of what it means to be Korean before God. But real authenticity isn’t fidelity to an unadulterated ethnic ideal (which doesn’t exist). It’s the freedom to explore and own all of who you are, without needing to perform it.

Toward Shalom

In terms of Christian formation, God’s invitation isn’t to be super Asian—whatever that might mean. It’s to bring all of ourselves to be healed, transformed, and called into God’s kingdom.

This is not a dismissal of the harm done by colorblind theology—the white, assimilationist spirituality that told us to leave our Asian Americanness at the door. The healing journey genuinely does involve recovering and honoring our heritage and culture. That work is real.

But recovery is not the destination. The goal is shalom—the peace of God extended to all of who we are, including our Asian Americanness. Not one part performing for another, but all of ourselves reconciled, integrated, and united to Christ.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

The full article is linked here and in the image below.

The Big Idea

AAPI therapists have always belonged to this field—but the field hasn't always known how to belong to them.

Key Takeaways

• You are not alone. AAPI MFTs may be underrepresented in the field, but they stand on the shoulders of centuries of presence and progress across the Asian American spectrum.

• There is language for your experiences. ChenFeng affirms the racialization AAPI MFTs experience within the field and calls them by name: Invisibility. Essentialism. Coloniality. Hypervisibility.

• Invest in community. ChenFeng says, “Becoming visible is not something we bear alone; this can only happen in community and mutual relationships across all our differences.”

Next Steps

To AAPI Therapists: Write. Present. Create. Your presence matters, and you are not alone.

To Colleagues and Allies: We are shaping what comes next in the MFT field, and we are building an inheritance for the generation after us. Be honest with the representation present in your faculty, supervisors, and administration. Learn how to be grounded in a third-order awareness.

About the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory

The Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory (Collab) is an initiative of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary. Collab exists to strengthen the relationships and well-being of Asian American Christian families, pastors, and therapists. Our mission is to equip the Asian American Christian community with practical resources to strengthen our relationships, bridge community members and deepen connection with one another, and innovate culturally congruent mental health dialogue and practices for community health.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

Additional Reading

For readers who want to explore the sources Dr. ChenFeng engages in her article:

Almeida, R. V., Dolan-Del Vecchio, K., & Parker, L. (2008). Transformative family therapy: Just families in a just society. Allyn & Bacon.

American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy. (2022). Marriage and family therapist workforce study 2022. Family Therapy Magazine, 21(6). Retrieved from https://ftm.aamft.org/shifting-demographics-in-the-industry/

Berg, I.K. and Jaya, A. (1993).

Different and same: Family therapy with Asian-American families. Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, 19: 31-38. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1752-0606.1993.tb00963.x

Berger, L. K., Zane, N., & Hwang, W. C. (2014). Therapist ethnicity and treatment orientation differences in multicultural counseling competencies. Asian American Journal of Psychology, 5(1), 53–65. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0036178

ChenFeng, J. (2018). Relational wellness for second-generation Asian American adult children. Presentation at California State University, Northridge.

ChenFeng, J. & Kim, L. (2024). Asian American identities, relationships and post-migration legacies: Reflections from marriage and family therapists. Routledge.

Cheung, C. & Jahn, S. (2017). Closing the acculturation gap. The Family Journal. 25. 170-178. 10.1177/1066480717697686.

Commission on Accreditation for Marriage and Family Therapy Education. (2022). Aggregated program demographic data. Retrieved from https://www.coamfte.org/COAMFTE/COAMFTE/Directory_of_Accredited_Programs/Program_Demographic_Data.aspx

Hardy, K. V. (1991). For minorities only: Tips for becoming a GEMM family therapist. Family Therapy News, 22(5), 5.

Ho, M. K. (1987). Family therapy with ethnic minorities. Sage Publications.

Lee, E. (2015). The making of Asian America: A history. Simon & Schuster.

McDowell, T., Knudson-Martin, C., & Bermudez, J. M. (2019). Third-order thinking in family therapy: Addressing social justice across family therapy practice. Family Process, 58(1), 9–22. https://doi.org/10.1111/famp.12371

Rastogi, M., & Wieling, E. (Eds.). (2005). Voices of color: First-person accounts of ethnic minority therapists. Sage Publications.

Sue, D. W., & Sue, D. (1981). Counseling the culturally different. John Wiley & Sons.

Every organization has values—stated or unstated, visible or hidden in the way things actually get done. At the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC), we want ours to be named clearly, held honestly, and returned to often—not as a performance of virtue, but as an ongoing commitment to integrity.

These four values are not a destination we have arrived at. They are a direction we are always moving toward, because how we do something is just as important as what we do. Integrity matters in every aspect of our work, even as we acknowledge that we do not always live up to our ideals. In that spirit, we seek to embody and be guided by these four core values.

1. Gospel

We always begin with God—and not just any conception of God, but the triune God revealed in Jesus Christ. Even in thinking about Asian American identity, we begin with the God who sees us fully and invites all of who we are into God’s presence. Our goal is not simply to be Asian American and Christian, as though our identity could exist independently from God. Rather, we seek to be Asian American in Christ, because God is Lord over all, including our Asian Americanness.

When we speak of the Gospel, we confess a God of radical and transformative grace, not a moralistic or legalistic religiosity. We recognize that it is not always easy to distinguish the two, especially in a culture where Christianity can become merely social—about finding friends at church—or burdensome, driving people toward exhaustion and obligation. The point is not merely to identify as Christian, but to genuinely desire Christ and Christ’s Kingdom with joy and delight.

2. Critical Knowledge

To work with Asian American communities well, we believe there is an important difference between uninformed, stereotypical, and shallow understandings of Asian America and those that are informed, nuanced, and thoughtful. Personal experience matters, but personal experience alone is not critical knowledge. We must resist projecting our limited perspectives onto others without careful reflection and learning.

Without this deeper work, we may be able to tell jokes or share anecdotes, but we will struggle to make meaningful cultural and racial analyses that help us understand our lives in Christ. We are grateful to draw from over fifty years of Asian American studies and Asian American psychology, remembering that we are not pioneers but beneficiaries of the wisdom and labor of those who came before us. To better understand this, check out our Substack article, “Beyond ‘So Asian’—Finding a Language for Your Story.”

3. Well-Being

At the Center, we take Sabbath seriously. We are not machines or mere producers of work. We are human beings. Sabbath is not simply about setting aside time to work for God; it is about setting aside time to be human—to rest, reflect, and simply be. Even when we participate in God’s work, we are not merely instruments to be used. God works through us as covenantal partners, not as disposable tools.

Because of this, we value every relationship both within and beyond the Center. We strive to work sustainably, with realistic deadlines and healthy boundaries, alongside fair compensation and mutual respect.

4. Partnership

The work before us—the reformation of the Asian American Church toward God’s radical grace and the fuller integration of our Asian Americanness in Christ—is too large for any one person or organization to accomplish alone. We must work together.

In every partnership, we seek to discern whether our collaboration reflects the Gospel, cultivates critical knowledge, and promotes well-being, so that our labor may be constructive rather than exhausting and fruitless. We seek to honor and respect every organization and individual we work with, resisting extractive relationships.

In our time, ministry scandals and stories of toxicity and abuse have become far too common, with entire lifetimes of work undone by unhealthy leadership and practices. Because of this, we would rather do less with care and integrity than do more carelessly. In all things, we live and work by God’s grace alone.

An Invitation: Walk With Us

We share these values not because we have perfected them, but because we believe naming them matters. They keep us accountable—to God, to one another, and to the communities we serve. We are always learning what it means to live them well.

If these values resonate with you, we’d love to be in community with you. Explore our cohorts, read further in the resources below, or simply share this post with a ministry leader or friend who needs to hear it. We are grateful you are here.

Additional Reading

For more on the Asian American Quadrilateral (AAQ), check out Dr. Daniel D. Lee’s book, Doing Asian American Theology.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

This is a sentiment I often hear. In one sense, it is absolutely true. People have ample lived experience as Asian Americans. Yet lived experience alone does not necessarily constitute critical knowledge. Without careful reflection, even our understanding of our own experiences can remain partial and limited.

The Limits of Our Language

"The limits of my language mean the limits of my world,” stated philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein. He was explaining how every personal experience is an interpreted one. Crude language leads to an oversimplified or distorted interpretation of experience, whereas a sophisticated and nuanced language can help bring out the complex textures of our lives.

Because of our white-normative educational system in the U.S., Asian Americans, even well-educated ones, can have simplistic language when talking about their lives and experiences. So we end up with people defaulting to phrases like that’s “very Asian,” “so Korean,” “Chinesey” and the like. Casual jokes among friends are one thing. But when we must make sense of our traumas, challenges, and confusions, do we have the vocabulary?

At this point, we can try to find our favorite interpretive key in Asian culture, immigration, race, etc. and risk having our experience be reduced to a stereotype. Which is the key? Maybe different keys for different people or situations? If you do not want to end up with a racial straitjacket of stereotypical identity, how do you know when you've learned enough to speak your own life fluently?

A Grammar for Speaking Asian American

This is the idea behind the Asian American Quadrilateral (AAQ), a simple tool to organize our identity and experience by presenting four interpretive lenses—Asian heritage, migration, American culture, and racialization. You might think of it as a basic grammar for speaking Asian American.

Every Asian American, whether they are East, Southeast, South Asian American, adoptee, or mixed race, negotiates their identity and experience through their own unique recipe of the AAQ. Considering all four lenses of the AAQ protect us from stereotypic reduction, while guiding us toward all the intersectional complexities.

Naming as Transformation

Biblically speaking, names and naming represent, among other things, transformation and calling. Through properly naming the various dimensions of ourselves and our experiences, we offer ourselves to be reconciled to God. Since its founding, the Asian American Center has sought to equip Asian Americans to make sense of their story with a more expansive language, not only for our own well-being, but for our deep healing and transformation for God’s kingdom work.

Additional Reading

To explore this linguistic approach to Asian American formation, and the Asian American Quadrilateral (AAQ), check out Dr. Daniel D. Lee's book, Doing Asian American Theology.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

AAC founding academic dean Dr. Daniel D. Lee preached on I Corinthians 2:1–5, encouraging all of us to bring our whole selves to Christ—not centering our identity or escaping our identity through theology, but bringing all of ourselves to the center: Christ crucified.

We also heard testimonies from two Fuller students, Jasmine El-Tini, Asian American Student Fellowship leader, and Courtney Turner, AAC Research Fellow of Formation and Mixed Race Studies.

Watch the full replay of the chapel service below:

Key Takeaways

• Paul’s commitment to “knowing nothing except Christ crucified” didn’t mean ignoring who he was—it meant bringing all of who he was to that message. His Jewish heritage, his Roman citizenship, his specific calling to the Gentiles—all of it became fuel for the gospel.

• It’s possible to use theology as a way to spiritually bypass yourself. Christian identity can become an escape hatch from engaging honestly with your own story, culture, and wounds.

• Luther translating the Bible into German, Paul owning his circumcision and tribal lineage—these weren’t identity politics. They were contextualized faithfulness.

• Asian American studies, critical race theory, psychology—these are tools, not the message. The message is Christ crucified. Preach Christ; use the tools wisely and mostly implicitly.

• Centering your identity in Christ doesn’t erase particularity—it redeems it.

Next Steps

• Reflect on what you might be avoiding. Are you using theological language or Christian identity to sidestep parts of yourself—your ethnicity, your history, your pain? Ask God to show you what you’ve been bypassing.

• Stop treating your background as irrelevant to your ministry. Like Paul accounting for his heritage, take stock of who you are—your culture, your community, your formation. You don’t have to preach it, but you do have to know it.

• Keep the gospel central, not your framework. Whether you’re drawn to Asian American theology, social justice frameworks, or Reformed doctrine—these shape how you understand and communicate the gospel, but Christ crucified is always the destination, never just the method.

• Explore Centering: the Asian American Christian Podcast from the AAC as a resource for this kind of integrated, Christ-centered thinking. (SoundCloud | Apple Podcasts | Spotify)

• Sit with 1 Corinthians 2:1–5 this week. Where is your faith resting—on the wisdom of a framework or tradition, or on the power of God? Let that question do some work in you.

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About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

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Drawing from theological reflection and their own ministry experience, Dr. Lee and Dr. Tommy Givens (Fuller Seminary associate professor of New Testament Studies) framed resistance not as reactionary defiance, but as deeply rooted, Christ-shaped practice.

Watch the full replay of the webinar below.

Key Takeaways

• Faithful resistance begins with formation. It is grounded in Scripture, prayer, and the long witness of the Church. Rather than chasing urgency alone, leaders are invited to cultivate communities shaped by God’s justice, mercy, and truth. This kind of resistance is steady, discerning, and anchored in hope.

• Faithful resistance is contextual and embodied. It is a call to listen carefully to the experiences of marginalized communities and discern how to stand in solidarity. It resists abstract ideals in favor of concrete acts.

• Faithful resistance is communal, not individualistic. No one does this work alone. This is a shared calling that belongs to the Body of Christ.

Next Steps

Faithful resistance often begins not with expertise, but with attention. How can we attend more closely to what is already in front of us?

It may begin in the pulpit—not with a sudden shift in tone, but with a quiet resolve to tell the truth a little more clearly, a little more courageously, trusting that the Spirit can hold what feels risky to name.

It may take shape in conversation—finding ways to create space where people can speak honestly about their lives and their questions, without fear of being dismissed or reduced.

It may simply be a kind of pastoral noticing—who in your community is unheard? What realities just beyond your church walls have gone unaddressed for too long?

And perhaps most importantly, we must attend to our own rootedness in Christ.

Before we speak or act, we return to Scripture, to prayer, to the presence of God all around us. We can stoke our prophetic imaginations through the arts, fellowship, nature, or exploration.

None of this is flashy. It may not feel like enough.

But then again, neither did casting nets into uncertain waters.

And yet, that is where Christ meets us and invites us to trust that faithfulness, however small it may seem, is never wasted.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

Asian American Christianity has a representation problem—and the people inside it are often the last to see it. For decades, one slice of a vast and varied community has functioned as the default, shaping who gets platformed, whose questions get asked, and whose experience gets theologized. Just look at the editorial board or speaker slate at any given Asian American Christian publication or conference. While it may be easy to point to white-centric spaces, ministries, and societal structures as the villain in our faith stories, we have to acknowledge that even in Asian American Christian spaces, there are still voices and identities that get marginalized and tokenized.

An East Asian Supremacy

At the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC), part of our vision is to correct course in regards to what Asian American representation means. Within the AAC, “Asian American” encompasses a vast and diverse range of identities—Southeast Asian Americans, South Asian Americans, East Asian Americans, multiracial Asian Americans, and adoptees—an intentionally broad umbrella.

For too long, Asian American identity, and by extension, Asian American Christianity, has been predominantly shaped by East Asian voices, reflecting what some in the field of Asian American studies call East Asian Dominance or Supremacy. This imbalance not only perpetuates exclusion but also fails to reflect the true makeup of our communities.

The Real Numbers

The demographics tell a different narrative. According to the 2020 U.S. Census, 48% of Asian Americans are of South or Southeast Asian descent, compared to 39% who are of East Asian descent, and 14% who identify as “other.” Yet these realities are often overlooked in both broader society and within the Western Church.

Among Asian Americans specifically, the gap is even more stark. A 2023 Pew Research Center study on religion among Asian Americans found that Filipinos make up 39% of Asian American Christians—a powerful testament to the diversity often missing from nationwide conversations. Among Asian American Evangelicals, the diversity is even greater. These aren't marginal communities being overlooked. They're the majority being mistaken for the minority.

This isn't just an optics problem. When a partial voice becomes the default, it doesn't just mean some people feel excluded—it means the theology, the pastoral frameworks, and the formation models all get built from an incomplete foundation. The question underneath all of this is: who gets to define what faithful Asian American Christian life looks like?

The AAC’s Work

That's the question the AAC has been working to answer for a decade. The AAC unveiled a new logo in May of 2025, coinciding with Asian Pacific American Heritage Month. Our logo reflects the richness of our community and our commitment to inclusivity. This marks a significant shift from the more East Asian-centered design of the past. The vibrant colors represent the many backgrounds that shape Asian American identities, symbolizing our collective journey toward wholeness and healing.

The four colors that form the square also represent the Asian American Quadrilateral—Asian Heritage, Migration, American Culture, and Racialization—key dimensions of the Asian American experience, as outlined by AAC’s founding academic dean Dr. Daniel D. Lee in his book, Doing Asian American Theology: A Contextual Framework for Faith and Practice.

This year, the AAC is celebrating a decade of existence at Fuller Seminary. More than an academic center, the AAC is a community, a movement, a space that honors our history while inviting all Asian American Christians to explore how their unique identities can be fully integrated into their faith. Our mission at the AAC is to equip and empower Asian American Christians for holistic discipleship and empowered ministry. Our work is centered around the shared values of the gospel message, critical knowledge, well-being, and generous partnerships.

Through our initiatives—the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the newly launched Korean American Ministry Initiative—as well as our partnership with Fuller Seminary, we offer spiritual formation group cohorts, programming, resources, and seminary classes that help Asian American Christians connect every part of who we are with our faith in Christ.

The Centering Substack (📍where you are now) and Centering Podcast extend that work beyond the academy and church walls, bringing theology, research, and honest conversation to pastors, clinicians, lay leaders, and anyone navigating faith and identity. The name is intentional: not centering Asian Americanness for its own sake, but centering our whole selves—every part of who we are—to Christ.

We want our work to not just be a list of initiatives and programming, but a living example to show that nurturing a more inclusive picture of Asian American Christian identity produces better theology, better formation, and better ministry.

Additional Reading

Is Filipino American Theology Asian American Theology? by Dr. Gabriel Jay Catanus, director of AAC’s Filipino American Ministry Initiative, Inheritance magazine

Writing the Story of South Asian American Christianity by Caroline S. Lancaster

Redeeming Our Narrative, “Speaking” Asian American

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees—grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

“It can be yours for only five payments of $19.99, plus shipping and handling!”

Growing up in the 1990s and early 2000s, infomercials were everywhere. As young boys without cable or self-control, my brother and I were their captive audience. We would watch them so often we could have sold the products ourselves. Miracle Knife, Little Giant, Proactiv, and so many more. But I would always wonder—why say five payments of $19.99? Why not just say it’s $100? And why are we always finishing with, “Call now, and we’ll send you another one for free!”

Why are all the costs so convoluted?

Read the Fine Print

Being raised in a devoutly Christian family, I went to my share of youth group conferences, rallies, and Christian events. At almost every single one, the altar call was suspiciously similar to those infomercials. Raise your hand, walk the aisle, make the decision now, we’ll send you God’s grace for free!

That’s the infomercial version. The fine print would reveal that only the first dose of grace is free. In this brightly packaged youth group spirituality, God’s grace was actually free* with a distinct asterisk that required a commitment to a payment plan of sanctification. The underlying message was clear: With your monthly payments of striving for perfection, God’s grace will continue to be available to you!

But if your performative payment was not good enough, then you had not sufficiently paid for the product of grace—and if you couldn’t front the payment, maybe you never really received it in the first place.

Pay-For-Play Grace

As a young person, this fit right in with my experience in a Taiwanese American immigrant family. Ingrained in us was an expectation of the pursuit of a better life. That’s why my parents left their country in the first place. Racialization produced a pressure from within and without to stand above my peers even as I physically stood below them. And as much as I might wish I could compartmentalize my life, my faith couldn’t help but take the spillover of this sense of duty and moralism—and there was no room for a handout of grace.

So…monthly payments of striving for perfection? I had been practicing that my whole life. And I had gotten quite good at it. Give me that grace, because I’ve got your performative perfection right here.

Except the times where I wasn’t perfect.

For these moments, the only solutions were existential crises that could only be solved by weeping during worship nights, embracing the shame that precedes repentance, and promises of no more late payments of perfection.

This cycle of striving, failing, shame, and repentance was as constant and repetitive as those infomercials.

Maybe, I began to think, that cycle is all Christianity is. Maybe that’s all God wants.

Truth Sets Free

But what if God’s grace wasn’t free* —what if God’s grace was actually free, no asterisk needed? What if God’s grace didn’t require monthly payments?

These were the questions posed to me in one of my courses in my last year of seminary.

Well, it can’t be true, I reasoned, because Romans 6:1 warns against using grace as a license for sin, obviously, and 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 tells us to discipline ourselves like athletes.

But if God’s grace was actually free? That would be good news. And you wouldn’t have to convince me of that.

After years of full-time ministry, could I actually reassess what I thought of God’s grace? It was too good not to consider. So even after finishing that course, I spent a year praying about, talking to friends about, and processing the question: What if God’s grace was actually free?

What if God’s grace isn’t a carrot, dangled in front of us stubborn donkey people to continue to strive for approval and reward? What if I don’t change in anticipation of the carrot (Romans 8:3), but rather, what if I’m changed because of the carrot? (Titus 2:12)?

If God loved me as a sinner (Romans 5:8), maybe he still loves me as his imperfect son (1 John 3:1).

Perhaps God is not like my infomercials. Perhaps God is infinitely better. And what God says is a free gift, is actually free (Romans 6:23).

When grace was no longer a free* product, but a free gift, that’s when I found true freedom. Free from the cycle of sin and shame that I thought Christianity was and into the full life that Jesus promised (John 10:10), now I was eager to pursue God’s will—not because I needed to re-up my payment, but because I was free from payments altogether. Or in other words, my debt had been paid.

Are we believing and peddling an infomercial gospel? Even inadvertently?

Or are we sharing the news that we have been freed by a chain-breaker and a debt-payer, and he can do it for you too? Absolutely free.

Because that would be good news. And you wouldn’t have to convince me of that.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

“All creation is still groaning in pain like a mother giving birth.” Romans 8:22

Earth Day invites us to listen. Not just to environmental data or policy debates—but to the groaning itself. Romans 8 tells us that all of creation is crying out, waiting for liberation. And we, embedded in that creation, groan with it.

For many of us in Asian and Asian American communities, this groaning is not abstract. We carry the memory of lands that were tended with reverence—rice paddies, forests, coastlines—and the wounds of colonization that severed those relationships, renaming stewardship as “undeveloped” and indigenous wisdom as “primitive.” Our ancestors knew what many are only rediscovering: that to be disconnected from the body of the earth is to be disconnected from ourselves.

But Romans 8 doesn’t leave us in the groaning. There is hope—not passive optimism, but active, sacrificial, love-driven participation in God’s renewal of all things.

This Earth Day, the Asian American Center invites you to tend something. A plant. A relationship. A practice of presence with the earth beneath your feet. These small acts are not separate from the gospel—they are embodied gospel practices. Creation is waiting. So are we—but not idly.

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

“And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever.” John 14:16

In 2025, the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) mid-year report found that as of June of that year, over 117 million people globally remained forcibly displaced, including refugees, asylum-seekers, and internally displaced people. (This number does not include the over four million recently displaced because of the conflict in Iran and Lebanon.)

While churches may reduce this crisis to “immigration issues,” I see it as an opportunity for advocacy as missions, engaging the mission of God among the world’s most vulnerable, pursuing justice and the healing of the nations (Rev. 22: 1–4). This is not just missiology and political theology; I do this work alongside Christian leaders because it is intrinsic to my family’s story.

Voice as Spirit

In 1979, after my family spent years navigating our war-torn country of Laos, a small Lutheran church tucked in the cornfields of East Moline, Illinois sponsored us out from a refugee camp in Thailand. They taught my parents English, how to drive, and the ways of American life.

My sister, Dr. Ia Y. Kue, chronicles our story in her memoir Secret Paths Revealed: A Hmong Woman’s Journey from Escaping a Secret War to Becoming a Physician. She recalls that as a refugee fleeing Laos into Thailand and restarting his life in America, my father was not a Christian yet but would listen to “the Voice” that would speak, guide, and teach him how to navigate our family through the horrors of war and finding a new home.

In time, the sponsoring American church would introduce my dad to Jesus. More than the American Dream, they helped him discover the Kingdom of God and would be a catalyst for how he would eventually come to identify the Voice as the Spirit of God. And the Voice remains with him until this day. Moreover, Jesus’ life has become our family’s lens to understand the pains of our past and of the current world.

Pentecost as Recalibration

There is a particular sense of spirituality that forcibly displaced people experience that goes beyond systematic theology, political ideology, and trauma-informed therapy. It is cultivated in a state of vulnerability that, for some, opens us up to the logic or reason of the universe (what Greeks understood as the Logos).

Some, like my family, in time come to understand that the logic or reason behind life is God, who at one point in history, became flesh, dwelled among us, died, rose again, imparted the Holy Spirit upon humanity at Pentecost, and promises to return to set all things right.

Amid all personal and worldly suffering, the Voice provides us comfort even when we don’t see the logic or reason behind it all.

Advocacy as Missions

The UNHCR report is more than just a slate of statistics—it’s thought to be one of the greatest humanitarian crises of our time. One in 70 people on Earth, forcibly displaced.

What I’ve come to realize in practicing advocacy as missions is that the Biblical command to serve the world’s most vulnerable—which, in the United States, includes millions of immigrants—encompasses helping these souls recognize that the internal voice that has guided many of them for decades is the Holy Spirit, our Great Advocate.

This work doesn’t spiritually bypass the traumatic experience of vulnerable immigrants but acknowledges that there is a greater personal force working for their justice and renewal. And it is part and parcel of the cosmic project that calls churches to become the kind of community that listens for that Voice alongside the displaced, walks with them through the pain, and introduces them to the One who sent the Advocate to be with us forever (John 14:16).

About Centering

Centering: The Asian American Christian Substack is a publication of the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC). At the AAC, we train and support Asian American Christian leaders of East, Southeast, and South Asian descent, including multiracial individuals and adoptees – grounding their life and work in over 170 years of Asian American history, and addressing their spiritual and psychological concerns.

We do this work through our cohorts, seminary courses, and the programs of our initiatives. The AAC is home to the Asian American Pastoral Formation Initiative, the Asian American Well-Being Collaboratory, the Asian American Christian History Institute, the Filipino American Ministry Initiative, and the Korean American Ministry Initiative.

For information about Fuller Seminary’s degree programs and continuing education resources, visit fuller.edu.

John 20:1-18

It is no surprise that upon encountering the Risen Christ, Mary, the first evangelist of the gospel, presumes that Jesus is a gardener. A chapter earlier, John describes how Nicodemus and Joseph spotted a tomb in a garden nearby to lay the body of Jesus. In my mind it is a lovely place. Rather than a footnote in the story, it strikes me as more than apt that Jesus is mistaken as a gardener. Gardens, after all, are alive. The soil is alive. As are the creepy crawlers that make the soil fertile. Birds of the air sow seed, and bees suspend themselves to pollinate the flowers, and if you are fortunate, the fruits and vegetables and herbs, too.

When you think about it, God started everything with a garden, and never stopped bringing things to life, never quit making lovely what would otherwise be a dreary existence, never stopped making all things new. I mean, have you ever witnessed the superblooms of spring? A bird perched in a favorite tree? The stars sparkling against the dark tent of night sky? Now, look at yourself in the mirror–there, there, a miracle of beauty. God is alive. You are alive. Hallelujah, Christ is Risen indeed!

Inhale: God is alive.

Exhale: I will notice beauty all around me.

Inhale: God is alive.

Exhale: I choose to fully live.

John 19:38-42

As the Apostles’ Creed declares, after the crucifixion, on what is known as Silent Saturday, Jesus “descends into hell.” If hell exists, it is a human hell, where the person furthest estranged from God exists. Scripturally, Judas represents this person. The late Fuller professor Ray Anderson in his book, The Gospel According to Judas, imagines that the first thing Jesus does after the cross is to go searching for Judas. When he locates Judas, instead of haunting him, Jesus extends his hand, “Judas, come home, all is forgiven.”

If there is hope for Judas, there is hope for us all. After all, who among us hasn’t at some point experienced our own Silent Saturday? When daylight is elusive, the walls of our world collapsing around us, and we are sinking further and further into terrible regret. Who among us hasn’t fallen into our own hell where God seems silent and distant? But Judas tells a different story: Even in hell, Jesus is neither silent nor distant. He is searching for you. As he approaches, Jesus is saying something: “It’s okay, I’m here, you are home.”

Inhale: Silence does not mean I am alone.

Exhale: Jesus is with me.

Inhale: I can be afraid.

Exhale: Jesus is holding me.

John 18:1-19:42

Loving God,

They tried to strip you of everything. Your friends, your family, your dignity, your purpose. And when that was not enough to satisfy them, they stripped you of your breath. Still, no one and no thing can take away what you are not willing yourself to surrender. You alone have complete agency. Anselm of Canterbury argued that God had to satisfy his wrath for sinful humanity by sending his innocent Son to die on the cross for our sins, thus throwing back onto us the cause for Jesus’ death. Anselm’s theory only works, however, if Jesus on the cross is also God on the cross. It is God in Christ who volitionally goes to the cross on our behalf. Yes, Jesus carries our sins upon the cross, but it is not our sin that keeps Jesus on the cross. It is love.

In the end, what they could not strip Jesus of is love. Love, wholly, wonderfully, amazingly for us.

Inhale: I feel vulnerable and afraid in this world.

Exhale: I am held in the safety of God’s love.

John 13:1-17

Serving God,

You loved the disciples to the end. Even Judas, who you knew would betray you. Still you served him the bread and the wine, you washed his feet. As an act of inclusion, as an extension of mercy, as a final act of love. Help us to pray for those who seek our harm. Help us extend peace to those who cause us trouble. Help us to be gracious with those for whom we do not get along. Help us to be people who serve bread and wine to everyone.

Inhale: It is difficult to love.

Exhale: I choose to carry a towel in this world.

Matthew 21:1-11

Humble God,

The world, it seems, is perpetually held captive by infantile kings whose tantrums of lies, schemes, and cruelty have kept whole nations and communities beholden to their madness. Kings whose chaos, destruction, and violence lay waste to innocents, to cities, to the earth. Who then, is this king who comes to ride on the back of a donkey? This is what they ask. Who is this king who refuses to coerce, who does not insist on his own way, who lays down his crown for our liberation and salvation? Dare we ask, who is this king that would remake the world aright with love?

Inhale: I will not be complicit to violence.

Exhale: I can embody love.

As a second-generation Chinese American, I learned early to value education. Born and raised in San Francisco, I internalized my family’s migration story: escaping the Communist regime, moving to Hong Kong, and settling in America to pursue the American Dream. Education, echoed by Confucianism, is the path not just to knowledge, but to fulfill my moral obligation as the eldest son—one who will open the gates to familial flourishing.

Possessing knowledge is about fulfilling my birthright: serving with competence and leading with power to share. With this, I aspired to become a doctor.

An Unexpected Calling

Yet, God disrupted my path when I encountered the Holy Spirit for the first time in college. Captivated, I sought Christ and unexpectedly sensed a calling to ministry. In disorientation and eagerness, I paused the pre-medical route and enrolled in seminary at Fuller.

Theological education became food for my spirit. I not only refined my skills in ministry but also found tools to interpret and find God in the world, the church, and my own story. With a growing knowledge of God, I felt empowered to serve.

But to my non-religious family, what value does theological knowledge have to the world—let alone to them and the Asian American community?

Paving an Integrative Path

As the eldest, I felt driven to prove that studying theology was valuable and impactful to human flourishing. In a modernistic, pluralistic, and post-Christian world, Christianity is seen as irrelevant and broken. Authority as a theologian and minister cannot simply be claimed; trust must be earned.

During COVID, God expanded my ministry to serve those in the hospital. Continuing my studies and ministry at church, I learned to offer care as a chaplain. I faced doubt from my parents, weariness from disillusioned Christians, and skepticism from healthcare leaders. Yet I found holy inspiration: pave an integrative path between what felt mutually exclusive—theology and medicine.

The White Coat’s Credibility

Now, again wearing the title of student—this time, a medical student—the winds have turned. Medicine provided a different credibility.

I first noticed a shift when my parents approached me to interpret their MRI findings. Again when my aunt asked about caring for a cooking burn, and again when a friend asked about their lab results. In the clinic, patients see my white coat, invite my expertise, and are no longer suspicious of my religion. Authority is now assigned; trust is given.

Knowledge as Embodied Wholeness

However, as Asian American Christians, we must remain wary of where power is held and how trust is given. The Confucian archetypal value for education may lead us toward a holistic embodiment of knowledge, character, and service—but it remains vulnerable to the Model Minority myth. Without vigilance, we may be reduced, extracted as technical labor, and confined as mere cogs in an economic machine.

The integration of theology and medicine in our Asian American context is God’s invitation to build credibility with humility, akin to the task of a theologian and minister. We are invited to become leaders—knowledge-bearers of theology, culture, medicine, psychology—who wield power with earned trust and dignified presence. With God, we are invited to possess knowledge as power not merely to serve, but to offer embodied wholeness and healing in all.

The Korean American church is one of the great untold stories of American Christianity—resilient, creative, and quietly carrying more than most people know. We have built churches, raised families, and served faithfully, often while carrying wounds that went unnamed and needs that went unmet. The Korean American church in the United States is at a profound moment: shaped by decades of immigration, intergenerational tension, and the slow, costly work of figuring out who we are in Christ. It is out of this moment—and for this community—that the Korean American Ministry Initiative was born.

Who is KAMI for?

The Korean American Ministry Initiative (KAMI) exists to serve every day Korean American Christians in both ministry and the marketplace who are seeking growth, healing, clarity, and renewal in their spiritual, emotional, and cultural identity.

Why KAMI?

For several generations, white-dominant ideals in both church and society have shaped—and deformed—Korean American Christian identity. Many of us find ourselves caught between two cultures, two languages, and two histories. The post-1965 wave of immigration has only deepened these complexities, leaving Korean American Christians pondering questions such as “Who am I” and “Whose am I?”

The cost of our liminality has been steep.

Some second-generation Korean American Christians continue to work through fractured relationships with their first-generation immigrant parents and clergy, while other second- and third-generation Korean American Christians work through challenges of erasure from dominant white Christian spaces that leave us with cultural and spiritual insecurity, unresolved trauma, and church hurt.

What does KAMI offer?

As part of an academic unit, KAMI seeks to cultivate spaces of healing, growth, and thriving through publications (books, articles, blogs, and training manuals) as well as podcasts and webinars in conjunction with the Asian American Center.

What makes KAMI unique?

Our Institutional Strength: We partner with and are directly connected to the Asian American Center at Fuller Seminary (AAC), which has been serving the broader Asian American Christian community for over a decade. KAMI bridges scholarship, theology, and practical ministry care in a place that has an established record of scholarship and service.

Our Leadership: Alexander Jun, Ph.D. brings nearly three decades of scholarship and local church ministry with him in his role. His breadth of denominational ministry and leadership makes him uniquely positioned to guide KAMI’s future.

Our Strategic Location: We are based in Los Angeles County, which has the largest Korean community outside of Korea. KAMI is rooted in a geographic region that is dynamic and ever evolving. This is where change is happening, and the need for leadership is greatest.

Support our work

KAMI exists to serve all Korean American Christians–pastors, leaders, and laypeople alike, providing a Christ-centered space where identity, culture, and faith are nurtured for the sake of the Church and world. Together we may heal, grow, and thrive in every sphere of life and work.

KAMI is for Korean American Christians.

KAMI is by Korean American Christians.

KAMI is about Korean American Christians.

The Korean American church in the United States stands at a crossroads—between assimilation and prophetic renewal, fragmentation and intergenerational healing. Through KAMI, we hope to steward this opportunity with wisdom, faith, and courage. Your investment ensures a legacy of resilient, visionary leaders who will serve generations to come.

Donate to KAMI