Monday, May 5, 2008
Why Feminist Missiology?
without giving much attention to women's experiences and perspectives, perceives feminist theology as being ignorant to the nature of Christianity as a missionary religion.
The two, thus, eliminate access to discuss issues that concern them both at the discursive and practical levels.
However, for the past 15 years there have been emerging interests by both 'parties' that could be seen, though still very limited, in the publications, discussions, workshops, that center on themes like "women and mission," "feminist perspective on religious pluralism," etc. Yet, there are still very few feminist theologians/women missiologists whose works are intentionally focusing on the development of a feminist missiology. Among others, I should mention the late Letty Russell, a pioneer in the feminist movement in and beyond the U.S., Aruna Gnanadason, an Indian theologian who has marked a distinctive presence and voice in the global ecumenical movement, Katja Heidimanns, a Roman Catholic theologian from Germany, and Frances Adeney, a Presbyterian theologian from the U.S. Worth noticed is Dana Robert, a mission historian from the U.S. whose works have contributed to the knowledge of the role of women in mission as well as of the women's theories of mission.
This blog is meant to contribute to this new development by constructively bridging the two disciplines. Issues such as inter-religious dialogue, local churches' experiences of religious plurality, women's contributions in and perspectives on mission and evangelism, contextual theologies, etc. are welcome.
I hope that through this blog I will be able to identify elements that are authentic as well as relevant for the development of a feminist missiology in an Indonesian/Asian context.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
A Witness Becoming
Mission 21, Basel, Switzerland
April 2008
A Witness Becoming:
Women, Theology, and Testimony of Peace
The phenomenon of communal violence, including particularly religious conflict, indicates a greater challenge to the global communities where the response to the violent conflict has often been reduced to naming the other as “the evil other.” It is in the world where “religiously based conflicts continue to structure geopolitics ... of the world”[2] that the practice of listening to and letting local Christian communities speak their own become necessary to understand how Christianity is affected by, and may affect the transformation in the broader community.
Violence against Indonesian Chinese descendant women in
Here I will not describe nor analyze the complexity of massive communal violence that took place in various areas in
Theology and Women’s Testimonies of Peace
Following are excerpts from some of the interviews[7] I conducted with 60 Christian women, members of the
“Even after 5 years my body still feels the pain every time I remember the moment when the people I knew chopped and killed my husband before my very eyes.” (Voice of a widow left with 4 young children)
“I saw they burned my friend’s house and then threw him alive into fire. They did the same to his father … I hated them … I wanted to kill them, but now the hatred has disappeared. This must be because God has helped me to forgive them.” (Voice of a young woman)
“My husband was killed during the attack to our village. I suddenly became single parent with 2 dependent children. But God has helped me through the most difficult part of my life. I am now the coordinator of the Pemberdayaan Perempuan Kepala Keluarga (The Empowerment of the Female Head of Family) for both Christian and Muslim women in my area. It was started in the aftermath of the conflict to enable widowers like me to lead and support their families by giving assistance, for example, in making and distributing traditional foods in surrounding areas.” (Voice of a young widow)
“My daughter died behind the church … I still can’t go to see the site even after few years … But I have been working together with Muslim community to bring peace into our communities.” (Voice of a mother whose little daughter trapped and killed in the middle of the violence)
The last time I wore my robe was when I was standing between Christian and Muslim ‘troops’ who were ready to kill each other. It always reminds me of the fear and courage inside me when I had to calm down the angry crowds … I stop wore it ever since … I put it in my closet … I always smell scent of human blood every time I see it.” (Voice of a female minister)
“There was a song that I always sang those days … it tells about the Lord who always present in the midst of struggle… I knew the Lord was present when they killed my two adult sons.” (Voice of an old woman)
These excerpts highlight different layers of women’s narratives about communal violence and their hope for peace. The question, therefore, for Christian theologians and churches in
In responding to the above questions I looked at series of publication and archives from 1998-2007[8] by churches and Christian communities in
The question then remains, “what are we going to do with local women’s narratives of violence?” “Have their narratives pointed out to other dimensions of our theologies/missiologies, but are still being considered outside the framework of our theological discourse/theory?”
Here, I find Rebecca S. Chopp’s essay on reconfiguration of theology, as a critique to modern (Western) discourse on theology/theory, helpful. Chopp re-configures theology into a new discourse called “Poetics of Testimony”[10] that is, the “discourses – poetry, novels, theory, theology– which speak of the unspeakable, and tell of the suffering and hope of particular communities who have not been authorized to speak. … [T]estimony … mean[s] the discourse that refers to a reality outside the ordinary order of things.”[11] Her definition allows me to believe that the Halmaheran women’s narratives have spoken of the unspeakable and defined what truth is beyond any theological categories. They re-imagine the world without violence and, thus, re-create a new sense of reality where peace becomes real.
The questions, then, can our theological/missiological discourse of religious pluralism allow us to connect with the particularity of women’s testimonies of communal violence where religious symbols are used to legitimize violence against each other? Can our theologies reconfigure the theme of the “other” in our religious discourse through the eyes of those women? Moreover, how do we let go pain, hatred, and trauma, while embracing forgiveness and peace?[12] How do our theologies testify to the incomprehensibility of these experiences while remaining plausible in our theological/missiological construction of religious pluralism? Finally, can we witness the presence of God’s Spirit in the life and struggle of those witnesses?
What is needed is a new way of looking at the women not merely as victims/survivors but also as witnesses that is those who speak with authority about what they saw and experience. Therefore, even though I agree with Karlina Supeli’s, an Indonesian feminist activist and thinker, argument on the urgency to re-claim the subjectivity of victims/survivors in our solidarity and advocacy for women victims/survivors of violence,[13]but I also see the necessity of weaving the dimension of witness into this reclaiming. The women are witnesses whose testimonies challenge us to look to even beyond the unspeakable. Their testimonies challenge us not only to listen to silent voices, but even more to let the voices re-shape our theologies and re-imagine new ways of doing theology.
A Witness Becoming: Not an Epilogue
The Christian community in Duma, a Christian village[14] in Galela sub district, one location of my research, commemorated the death of its members during the conflict by burying the bodies in the church court yard and marking every cross on the grave with the same inscription: “Martyr of the congregation” (Indonesian: martir jemaat) and “Do not waste our struggle” (Indonesian: jangan sia-siakan perjuangan kami).[15] Thus, it is crucial to explore how the community’s understanding of martyrdom informs its way of dealing with the conflict and its aftermath.[16] The community also maintains the remnants of the old church building while erecting a new one next to it.
Chopp beautifully offers a new understanding of testimony in comparison to the traditional meaning of martyrdom, as she stated:
If, traditionally, we may have made testimony say “this is the truth, I tell it even if I have to die,” testimony now becomes “I will live to tell this story. I will survive for an hour, a day, however long I can … These testimonies are discourses of survival for hope and of hope for survival.”[17]
The women I interviewed made real what Chopp was talking about. They live to tell their stories so women like me would be empowered to stand before the ultimate face of violence that was committed against humanity and would never give up on hope for a better world, a world of peace. They live to testify to hope and to the possibility of creating and maintaining peace out of their encounter with the ultimate power of death. Their testimonies overcome public-private dualism and create a web of “collective and social”[18] testimonies, which connects the entire community’s narratives of violence and of peace.
The collectiveness of the women’s testimonies was reflected in most of the interviews I conducted in Duma. Almost all the women made reference to June 19, 2000 when asked about the most remembered part of their experiences of the violence. It was the day when the village was attacked and hundreds lives brutally taken away. Their experience on the day is then defined as their “common existential experience.”[19] It is the experience that determines the way they define themselves as a Christian community that has gone together through the brink of death. Furthermore, their now common experience has become their common ground or “point of reference” in creating a “common language” to express their new understanding of living as a Christian community with a history of communal violence. They define a new understanding of martyrdom by emphasizing the legacy of peace, instead of violence, that has been inherited to young generation in the village. Thus, peace becomes their “common language” and “point of reference” that determines their effort to never let such catastrophe happens again.
The women particularly reflect this commitment by pointing towards the need to re-look at the “other,” i.e. Muslim neighbors, not as their enemy, but as their own sisters/brothers. Both communities have gone through the traumatic experience. There is a strong need to create a new web of peace by visiting each other, by creating programs that re-connect both communities even though fear and distrust are still common in their daily activities. I also observed that women are the ones who are very active in connecting two communities and re-building a new sense of trust and hope.
Finally, I came to
STT
[1] Ordained minister of the
[2] Nancy T. Ammerman, "Introduction: Observing Religious Modern Lives," in Everyday Religion: Observing Modern Religious Lives, ed. Nancy T. Ammerman (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2007). P.4.
[3] This was reflected in my oration at the Jakarta Theological Seminary 67th Dies Natalis (2001) on Menuju Masyarakat Transformatif: Sebuah Visi Misiologis Feminis tentang
[4] I use the term “communal violence” as a synthesis of the analyses that have been developed regarding the political character of social conflict in
[5] There have been series of publication on the complex dimensions of the communal conflict in
[6] This is based on my interview with a group of Christian women late last year in two areas in North Halmahera, a majority Christian island in eastern
[7] The interviews, which were conducted in the Indonesian language (Bahasa Indonesia), were part of my dissertation research.
[8] I considered this period of nine years as significant since it includes the years of massive communal violence and its aftermath in various areas in
[9] I only looked at publications/archives by the Communion of Churches in
[10] See her essay with the same title in Criterion 37 (Winter 1998).
[11] Ibid., p.
[12] Cf. Ruddy Tindage’s identification on the lack of church’s constructive approach to the reality of trauma as a consequence of violence. Damai yang Sejati, p. 173
[13] See her essay “Mendengarkan Suara Kesunyian” [Listening to Silent Voice] in Eddy Kristiyanto (ed.) Etika Politik dalam Konteks
[14] Duma is considered important in the history of mission in
[15] In the interviews the women explained that the phrase “Jangan Sia-siakan Perjuangan Kami” [Do not Waste Our Struggle] was intended to remind younger generation about the lives that were taken away for peace. Thus, it is their responsibility to work for peace and to never let the violence happen again.
[16] Maurice Barth, "Basic Communities Facing Martyrdom: Testimonies from the Churches of Central America," in Martyrdom Today, ed. Johannes Baptist Metz; Edward Schillebeeckx (Edinburgh; New York: T & T Clark; The Seabury Press, 1983).Pp.43-47
[17] Chopp, Poetics of Testimony. P.7.
[18] Ibid.,
[19] Deshi Ramadhani, SJ. “Membangun Ruang Spiritualitas Dalam Dunia Akademis?” [Building Spiritual Space in Academic World?] Tanggapan atas Orasi Dies Natalis STT Jakarta: Berteologi dengan Nalar dan Spirit [A Response to Jakarta Theological Seminary’s Dies Natalis Oration: Doing Theology with Spirit and Logic] (
[20] Chopp. Poetics of Testimony. P. 7.
[21] Ibid. p. 8
On Rodney Stark's The Rise of Christianity
The Rise of Christianity: How the Obscure Marginal Jesus Movement Became the Dominant Religious Force in the Western World in a Few Centuries
1. In the beginning of his book Stark clarified his position.
He wrote it not as an historian nor a New Testament scholar. Rather, as a sociologist who was trying to contribute to studies of the early church by using social science. He then provided formal method of analysis as well as tremendous historical resources of the picture of early Christianity in order to focus on at least two basic questions that he addressed throughout his book: first, how did conversion effect the rise of (early) Christianity? Second, what kind of circumstances that motivate conversion to (early) Christianity? Conversion is seen as a main factor in the phenomenal rise of Christianity in the period covering the first five centuries. (107)
2. In the first 6 chapters in his book Stark did not define his understanding of
conversion. Rather, described it as a “normal process” without supernatural action. This is exactly his standing point as a sociologist in tracing the issue of conversion by strongly stated that “... we are not forced to seek exceptional explanations. Rather, history allows time for the normal processes of conversion, as understood by contemporary social science, to take place.” (7). Accordingly conversion identified as taking place through some social circumstances namely: “social networks, interpersonal attachments, dynamic population models, social epidemiology, and models of religious economies.” (xii). Social relationship becomes predominant in Stark’s analysis of conversion to Christianity where he identified some aspects that lead people to convert to Christianity.
a. The personal bonding or attachment to other people that allows conversion to proceed along social network. (18) Such attachments identified after describing the hierarchical relation within the local cultures that categorize Christianity as a cult movement, out of its deviancy from Judaism, which points toward the type of Christianity in the earlier centuries as a none proletarian movement. (chp.1)
b. The cultural continuity in the case of the encounter between Christians and the Jews at the diaspora. In such a situation Christianity seems to provide a sense of continuity in which the Jews at the diaspora can retain their cultural continuity being themselves marginalized where they were no longer accepted as Jews and not really assimilated as Gentiles. (52) ”Jews were caught on the cleft of marginality, to which Christianity offered an appropriate resolution. (69) Such identification allows Stark to conclude that Jews were significant source for Christian growth, until as late as the fourth century (49)
c. The encounter of Paganism and Christianity described in several variables :
the crisis (epidemics) creates “revitalization movement of Christianity”. The shifting of the social network because of the mortality rate during the crisis reveals the crucial opportunity for Christianity to grow because of its ability to confront the crisis socially and spiritually (93-94)
the place and role of women rooted in the Christian subcultures which developed a very significant figure of female surplus comparing to the pagan world (male surplus). This figure based on the Christian prohibitions against infanticide and abortion as well as the sex biased practices in marriage relationship vis-à-vis women’s leadership position in the church. (128) The significant of identifying women as appropriate variable in early Christian growth is that it directs to two social aspects: first, the exogamous marriage which provides the early church with a flow of secondary converts (the pagan husbands). Second, higher birthrates. Both contributed to the rise of Christianity
the demographic change through the acute disorganization of Greco Roman cities which, in general, eased the rise of Christianity. In such a situation Christianity proved itself as a “revitalization movement that arose in response to misery, chaos, fear, and brutality of life the urban Greco-Roman world.” (161). In the last chapters of this book the picture of Christianity becomes stronger as an immediate basis for interpersonal attachment which provides “a new and expanded sense of family” which virtually opened up a new basis for social solidarity.
3. Stark’s book appears to be a reminder to see another picture of Christianity. It does not offer specificity in terms of definition for conversion rather provides an open space to dialogue with a part of Christian history namely the Western side of early Christianity. Therefore, in terms of our course “History of Christian Mission,” this book may be read as a history of conversion to Christianity which shows that “[c]entral doctrines of Christianity prompted and sustained attractive, liberating, and effective social relations and organizations” (211) in such a specific time and space. It is a history that shows the effectiveness of Christianity in shifting the marginal Jesus movement to become the dominant religious force in the Western world only in a few centuries.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
After a year ...
I am trying to avoid discussion merely on definitions, rather prefer more on substantial themes or issues. I have another blogs/sites where I post my poems, journals, etc (septemmy.multiply.com) and where I have a gallery for photos I took from several occasions and places in some corners of the world (picasaweb.google.com/septemmy). I enjoy the variety of these blogs/sites where I can be as creative as I want to be, and can invite people to join in the adventure of respecting and celebrating differences.
For this blog, I decided to share my views on issues related to mission theology and feminist theology by posting my most recent views on the matter, posting my paper and/or articles that I wrote on the related topics elsewhere, as well as short stories, etc.
Hopefully through our encounter we can create an alternative way of looking at the two subjects comprehensively and correlatively. Just to remind you ... this is a serious issue but it doesn't mean that smile, laughing, and creativity is impossible. They are necessary elements in discussing this topic. So, smile ... because the creative journey just started ... and enjoy the ride!
On Anthony J. Gittins' Ministry at the Margins
A
I.
Central to Gittins’ book, Ministry at the Margins, is his thesis that mission is “a movement from the center to the margin” (xi) that involves not only a “centrifugal movement”, but more basically the humane encounter. Such movement and encounter reveal a whole new understanding of mission as ministry, more specifically, ministry at the margins. This newly discovered context of mission refers to mission as a process of life. It is a process that takes place from the passing over to the coming back that requires a new mission spirituality, namely “… humble faithfulness to the example of Jesus [and] service in the style of Servant” (xi). It is a spirituality that is based on the missionary nature of Christian baptism.
The passing over refers predominantly to Gittins’ theological and historical characterizations of those who commit themselves to mission works outside their own (geographical) boundaries. It is interdependently defined by the coming back that makes the two characterize the continuity of Christian mission, and thus constitute holistically to the “missionary adventure” as “the greatest religious adventure of our time”(5). The continuity is taking place in the three parts of movement, namely: the homeland (the locus where one’s identity is forged and rooted culturally), the wonderland (“the world of others”), and the
“Missionary as stranger” thus implies the potentiality of every Christian to be an incarnated servant that is called to repent and convert, as much as is demanded to call others to repentance and conversion (151). This call defines the viability and visibility of mission as ministry at the margins where the compassionate encounter with the poor and the needy remains relevant and authentic. The viability and visibility of this mission thus creates another way of communicating, of “good-news-ing” the gospel message through the use of the language of the margins. It is the language that is developed through the humane encounter between the strangers, between every baptized Christians and their own Matthew 25-neighbors, at the margins of life.
II. Reflection: The Language of the Margins
Joel C. Kuipers, an anthropologist, discovered the dominant role of Indonesian national language (Bahasa Indonesia) in the forming of a particular Sumbanese Christian identity in
After his conversion, Mbora Kenda finds that his local and ritual language of Weyewa Highland cannot fully represent his ‘new identity’ as Christian. This is due to the fact that the use of Bahasa Indonesia determines his new (higher) social status in the predominantly Sumbanese Christian community, which uses it as as a way to distinctively define itself as an integral part of the Indonesian nation. This lies back to the history of Christianity in
In Mbora Kenda’s case, the shift in his use of language results in the shift of his respected role as a local practitioner. His demand in using Bahasa Indonesia in his ritual speech ignores the local world-view that can only be comprehended by his Weyewan language. For Mbora Kenda, therefore, even though the use of Bahasa Indonesia will affirm his new receptive identity and higher social status, but it will alienate him from his own cultural root, the root of his very own identity as a Sumbanese.
Mbora Kenda’s story posses critical questions to Gittins’ argument of mission as ministry at the margins: How can Mbora Kenda become an authentic and relevant missionary in his own cultural setting if his use of Bahasa Indonesia alienates him from his own cultural root? Yet, can he become a relevant missionary in using the Weyewan language if it will result in his coming back to his previous marginal status in the predominant Christian community? What then is the margin for him? How one can witness linguistically to a person like Mbora Kenda the meaning of mission as incarnational in the situation where he does not have to choose to be a stranger since he himself is already a stranger. Therefore, the central question for Gittins’ book from such a particular story is, should a real stranger become another (more) stranger in order to become a relevant Servant? And, in relation with Gittins’ ideal of preferential option for the poor, should the poor become poorer in order to become a humble witness of Christ?
Gittins’ concept of passing over and coming back also reminds me of my experiene with a muslim friend, Farha Ciciek. Early last year Farha Ciciek and I published an article, in a top leading news paper in Indonesia, based on the story of Hagar (Siti Hajar). We identified Hagar’s story, as it is revealed in our religious texts, as a simbolic story of women victims in our communities. We claimed that through this particular story, we could create an open space for the encounter of victims accross religious and ethnic boundaries. We used Hagar’s language, as a language of victim, to identify the experiences of the marginalized in our own religious traditions. Yet, it is the same language that provides us the possibility to see the seed of transformation in the life of the victim. From my theological point of view, Hagar’s naming of God as “God who sees” is the source of such a transformation. Such interreligious cooperation reflects our own process of passing over and coming back through the language of the margins without having to be “lost in translation” (61) of our own traditions.
The two stories above while affirming Gittins’ understanding of the both-ends of mission as
a life process, also recognize the different definitions of margins that depend on one’s own historical, socio-economic and cultural situation. Therefore, in reading Gittins’ book, one needs to be in constant dialogue with such differences. And, one of another good stories to begin with is also the story of missionaries themselves. One of them is the story of E. Stanley Jones in his book The Christ of the Indian Road, where he touchingly described his experience with an Indian student who presented him a lotus, as a symbol of respect and honor.
I had come there a stranger and a foreigner... I had come openly with another faith, and I wondered how I would be received, but when this student gave me this lotus flower before all, then I knew I was accepted as friend and brother – and teacher. To be accepted as teacher was the goal of my hopes. But I felt myself as much a learner as a teacher. I had come to India with everything to teach and nothing to learn. I stay to learn as well, and I believe I am a betterman for having come into contact with the gentle heart of the East (1925, 222)
He continued to say, that his task in India “... to trust India with the Christ and trust Christ with India. We can only go so far – he and India must go the rest of the way. India is beginning to walk with the Christ of the Indian Road. What a walk it will be” (1925, 223) Is not this story about the passing over and the coming back missionary?
The above stories reflect the meaning of “life in paradox” as it is shown by the way Jesus lives his life in the paradox of Matthew 25 and Luke 4. It is the life that creates it own language of margin, the language of the fellow-sufferer and transformer.
Reference:
Jones,
Abingdon Press.
Gittins, Anthony J. 2002. Ministry at the Margins: Strategy and Spirituality for Missions.
______________. 1999. Reading the Clouds:
Liguori, Missionary: Liguori.
Kuipers, Joel C. 1998. Language, Identity, and Marginality in
Nature of Ritual Speech on the
On Kosuke Koyama's Water Buffalo Theology
April 1, 2004
A Reading on Kosuke Koyama’s Water Buffalo Theology
I. Water Buffalo Theology - Theologia Crusis in
Reading Koyama’s Water Buffalo Theology thirty years after it was first published requires the recognition of the radical changes that have taken place in the Asian context from which Koyama drew his reflection. In his preface to the twenty-fifth anniversary edition Koyama re-affirmed his original preference of Water Buffalo theology as a “theology in Asia,” and not “tribal theology,” to recognize Asia as it is “webbed-with the whole oekumene [sic!]”(x). Water Buffalo theology, thus, is Koyama’s definition of doing theology in Asia, meaning re-rooting theology in the life of Asian people, that is shaped by two integrated characters: historical and missiological.[1]
The starting point of doing theology in Asia must be the clear recognition of Asia’s own history, which is located in “the historical perspective of the West ‘gun’ (wounding) and ‘ointment’ (healing)” (32) that implies
Central to Water Buffalo theology is the intertwined questions of: “who we [Asian people] are” and “who God is”(160-162). Koyama affirms vividly that God is “the Crucified God” and, therefore, Asian people are “the crucified-Christ-with us” (160). This, for him, is the Asian new identification that is rooted biblically in the theologia crusis and historically in the theological situations in
Such identification implies the new understanding of being-in mission through “three-modes of Christian presence”: stumbling presence, discomforted presence, and ‘unfree’ presence (163-170). These three modes reflect profoundly the paradox of the two realities: the reality that “in [Christ] all things hold together” and the reality of the brokenness of the world (162). Thus, being-in mission means being in the paradox of these realities as Christ lived in the paradox of being the Crucified Lord (ibid). It is also the paradox that characterizes the saving act of God in the history of “lost-found” and “dead-alive”.
Living the “life in paradox” requires the “crucified mind.” It is the mind that
appreciates the complexity of people and history, and that imitates Christ in the way he participates in the paradoxical history of the cross and the resurrection. Thus, it is neither a pathological, nor neurotic, nor, obviously, “crusading mind” (159). The crucified mind must be the mind of all missionaries and all Christians (157-159). It is the mind that defines the identity of a missionary as “anyone who increases by participation the concretization of the love of God in history” (158). A missionary is a communicator who lives out the message that s/he communicates. Thus, the message is incarnated in the life of the messenger. It is a radically different life in which the messenger participates in the life of the Crucified Christ. It is a life-in mission that requires the new mission paradigm: mission as the movement from the center to the periphery. It is a radically different life since it employs the self-emptying process that “will give us [Asian people] a perspective in which we can look at, and participate in, the suffering of humankind” (162).
In conclusion, Water Buffalo theology is a theology of the cross that communicates with Asian language(s). It enables Christians to live the comforted-discomforted life as they experience the presence of the crucified God in the lives of their neighbors (167). It listens to the “frog croacking” and “mosquito humming” of the paddy field in northern
II. The
When
Hosea’s interpretation of the liberation of
Water Buffalo theology, as one of Koyama’s early writing, needs to be read with his latter writings in order to see the process in which Koyama himself re-discovered some issues that were already dealt with in this book. Such a re-discovery points toward the implication of his theology of the cross, which pictures Jesus as the person who has gone from the center to the periphery, in the interreligious encounter. Here his christology of the peripheral Christ implies a critical dimension in such an encounter, as he states “this [peripheral Jesus] will give us a new possibility in our encounter with the people of other faith and ideologies. We can be critical about them because we are critical about ourselves.”[3]
The same criticism applies to the other way of looking at the meaning of suffering in
A feminist interpretation of justice is needed to accompany Koyama’s theology of the cross in
Finally, Water Buffalo theology is still relevant in the early twenty first century of
Its authenticity and relevancy lies in the profound re-affirmation that Koyama makes in the epilogue of this book:
“We need to remember that theologia crusis is a doctrine of love, not of sacrifice… the primary duty of theologia crusis is to confront violence and destroy it…My New York theologia crusis began to have the two themes simultaneously: grace and violence (178).
Water Buffalo theology remains authentic in the Western soil since it is rooted in the concrete human’s struggle in the concrete history. As a theology of the cross, thus, Water Buffalo theology, which speaks in and through Asia, is also an authentic missiology of the cross that defines mission as the Crucified God’s mission in “[bringing] forth the wholesomeness of abundant life to all upon the earth” (179).
[1] This definition resonates with the formulation of the term contextual theology at the Theological Education Fund in 1970 (15). Thus, in his new preface, Koyama recognizes the three challenges to his Water Buffalo theology, one of which is contextualization of theology, which is intertwined with the dialogue between Christians and Buddhists, and the commitment to the protection and maintenance of ecological health and justice (xiii-xiv).
[2] This is true if it is compared with one of Koyama’s later writings, Mount Fuji and Mount Sinai: Critique of Idols (Maryknoll: Orbos Books) in which he discussed Hosea’s concept of the “agitated mind” of God (11.8) as the starting point of his theology of the cross (1984, 241).
[3] Ibid., 244-5.
[4] These identification provided by Aloysius Pieris, a Sri Lankan theologian of liberation. While the “overwhelming poverty” constitutes a commonality shared with the rest of the so called Third World countries, the second points to the unique character of
[5] Ibid.
