Comments 7

Identifying Chinese Christian in the Secular Humanities

I don’t remember the exact moment in my first year of university where I realized it was not okay to be a Christian in the Humanities.

Perhaps it was more of a slow awakening through situations where I heard in increasing occurrences a strong contempt, and intolerance for a faith that shaped my identity.
Regardless, I knew it soon enough from the way my professors talked about Christianity with a slight sarcasm, or as a way to throw a joke. I also knew it from the open negativity that my classmates performed in reaction.

Prior to coming to Toronto, I had never seen my Christianity in the political, and historical contexts that shaped these opinions. In fact, I remember seeing the Jesus parade for the first time in Toronto, and being completely baffled at the sight of the person dressed as Jesus dragging a cross around Queen’s Park.

My childhood was spent crawling under chairs in a Singapore Brethren church, and tiny little house churches in Suzhou, China, occasionally fellowshipping with Chinese Christians who worshipped in secret. In Hong Kong my family floated for the longest time, with no sense of belonging in church, before finally landing in the one we are now a part of. My high school years were plagued with the prejudice of a Christian school system that did not nurture or love my non-Christian classmates, yet also gave me many opportunities to discover my faith in different ways. In Toronto I belonged first to a Korean church, and then a Chinese baptist church, very different in style, in community, in way of life.

But the diversity of my Christian experiences could not have prepared me at all for the towering mess that is Christianity in the “West”, a  Christianity that claimed and still claims historical, political, social and cultural legitimacy and dominance, often (frankly), in questionable ways. In other words, colonial Christianity.

I can remember the first time I quietly admitted to a classmate that I was a Christian, my apologetic tones, my carefully worded defences.

To put it nicely, I was disoriented, but honestly, I was terrified and panicking. 

Identifying as Christian was only half the problem though, the other half was being Chinese.

The Christianity that gets thrown around and bashed up in the humanities is seen as a White Christianity. Even progressive humanities people suffer the blinders of colonial Whitewashing. It’s difficult because it glosses over too much – this narrative of Christianity ignores many things about me.

Being Chinese made it easier to slip under the radar, honestly. No one would assume my faith of me. But I struggled a lot feeling doubly isolated in faith and ethnicity, in a humanities stream that assumed both a certain type of Christianity, and a certain type of Christian.

I’ve written before on how my English journey became an intentional move away from White literature as I pursued identification, relevance and engagement with my education.

Interestingly enough, it was when I encountered post-colonial literature that I found the interrogation of Christianity one that I understood, and one that would take my panicking, and nurture it into a strong critical engagement with my faith.

Understanding Christianity in colonialism from a non-white perspective was the entry point back into my faith, and although I struggled to carry the weight of the implications, I felt less alone. The knots I felt inside, I read over and over in my books. The anger and confusion, the sense of loss and complicit guilt, I felt it all.

Its complexity made sense to me, because I was the product of that complexity.

There was never a strong divide between my Chinese and Christian identity until the year I turned 18, and the subsequent six years have been a rich journey of recognizing complexities, understanding tensions, and getting my hands really, really dirty in my search for meaning and purpose. This process has taken me through countless texts by Christian and non-Christian authors.
It has taken me back to the bible, to new literature, to professors and essays, and my faith communities again and again.

A friend found out I was a Christian in my fourth year of university, and was shocked. I guess it’s strange to be a Chinese woman (brought up in Asia even!!), an English student, specialize in postcolonial and diasporic texts, and also to be a Christian.


But as I get older, I find the old tensions in me changing shape. 

The first time I got over my inherent fear of talking to professors, was to chase down a thought I had about Auerbach’s opening chapter of Mimesis, where he uses Homer’s Odyssey, and the Abrahamic narrative of sacrificing Issac to shape the literary analysis he expands on for the rest of the book. I was bothered by the complete glossing over of the contexts and purpose of the Abrahamic text, how it hadn’t factored into our classroom conversation about style. So I went to find my professor, and ask him about Auerbach’s analysis, and it’s white stylistic blinders.

Being a Christian has made me a better English student.

I am always particularly excited when Scripture shows up in literature, morphed, appropriated and explored in different contexts. I get more excited when the use of it reveals a knowledge of scripture beyond surface level interpretation. It’s why Patrick White’s Riders in the Chariot was so fascinating, why Indigenous Literature can be so painful, why Mahmoud Darwish’s The Presence of Absence lingers in hurt.

As my literary adventures took me further into post-colonial, de-colonial, transnational, and diasporic, my activism sprouted with new strength:an activism fuelled by my faith in God’s justice, and his heart for the powerless.

I care very little for the moralizing Christianity that White Secular Humanities still wants to use in juxtaposition to itself. I have even discovered that meeting progressive allies who do not want to talk privilege and race, is ironically, like staring colonial Christianity in the face.

I care very much for Christianity that looks like Christ’s life. I find it more often in honest, heartbreaking conversations on systematic oppression, the struggle for equity, and solidarity movements against all of the -isms in their various forms and combinations.

It has always been my goal to study with all my heart, soul and mind, so that people will not use my Christianity against my intellectual voice when I speak. I refuse to be a lazy Christian, or a lazy student.
It is my way of honouring God, my way of living my faith. 

Being an English student has made me a better Christian.

Reading the Bible as literature and as divine scripture is doubly powerful, far richer and more complex than I could have ever imagined.

Six years later, I am much much stronger, getting ready to do my Masters in English, in collaboration with the Centre of Diaspora and Transnational Studies.
I am still on a journey because I myself, am ongoing work.
I plan to search always, and never avoid the hard questions.
I don’t want to ignore pain, nor do I want to block out guilt.
I never want to give up hope, or stop having faith.

Consider this a pep talk to myself; this is an ongoing fight.

This entry was posted in: Record


jaziimun is an interdisciplinary artist who works in text, paper arts and tea. She is also an arts programmer, and a ceramic hobbyist. She is also a proud bun mom.


  1. Josh says

    Interesting…I seem to have the exact opposite location wise for Christian upbringing, growing up in Vancouver churches, then maturing my faith when I went to Asia for university… what’s the greatest difference between the two in your opinion


    • Do you mean the difference between churches here and in Asia (broadly speaking), or specifically in certain countries?


  2. Josh says

    Well, I’m currently Hong Kong and you have lived there as well, lets roll with HK as a location first?

    Ethnicity and Religion has never been too great of an issue for me, obviously because Chinese dominate the churches here, even the English-speaking one I go to. I find the greatest difference between here and back then in Canada was a sense of complacency and satisfaction with the status quo in North America. Can you expand on this colonialism Christianity you speak of?


  3. It’s a very expansive topic. But to very briefly touch upon it, colonialism was often carried out in the name of Christianity, and colonialism has impacted the world in very severe ways: the annihilation of Indigenous people groups, the slave trade, military occupation, the transfer of resource and wealth to colonial centres. All these are very much tied up with Christianity, and as a result, impacts the way we understand our faith, impacts the language we use, and also the way we live out God’s will.

    That is the problematic relationship that these two things have, and in North America, Christianity and colonialism are terms that are almost often used interchangeably.

    Hope that helps!


  4. Pingback: Decolonizing faith: My Humanities Self in the (Chinese) Church | jaziimun

  5. Agatha says

    Wow. I can’t begin to express how much this resonated with my experience (as a Taiwanese-Christian in the humanities). I would love for a follow-up post on some specific instances and/or anecdotes of you bringing the actual faith into conversations with other people in the humanities (e.g. how did that conversation with the professor go?)

    Either way this is an amazingly uplifting article. It’s nice to know that you’re not alone 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hi Agatha, sorry I didn’t get around to replying!
      The conversation went really well. He did acknowledge the limitations of the text, and we talked about the different frame perspectives that could change or at least, enrich the critique of the text. We also ended up talking about my study interests. He was the first prof to tell me to consider grad school, and now i’m in grad school!

      So you never really know 🙂
      We should talk about your experiences too!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s