Growing up in a non-denominational conservative immigrant church, Advent was not a familiar concept or practice. It was not until I entered university, and participated in religious activities with a denomination that incorporated more liturgical elements, that I learned some Christians would spend an extended period of time before December 25 to reflect on the coming of Christ. It was easy to fold Advent into my personal faith tradition during that time because it made sense for me – I liked the practices of reflection, anticipation, and seeing hope during a tumultuous time.

Advent artwork by Aya Sato

Join Seattle PAAC as we attempt to create a new way to be Church together. For the month of December, we are putting together a weekly online expression of church where we journey together through the different themes of Advent. Join us in co-creating meaningful experiences of our faith tradition.

I am Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian), Japanese, Irish, Swedish, and German. Living in the Bible Belt throughout childhood and adolescence was turbulent and at times hostile for someone mixed-race, queer, and transgender. But the silver lining I found despite my turmoil were the numerous encounters I had with who I believe to be a living and resurrected Jesus. These transcendent experiences were what sustained me through 10 years of teaching and preaching that said while everyone “sins and falls short the glory of God,” people like me were especially sick, broken, something to be prayed away, managed, or erased. I embraced this hermeneutic despite what it cost: my physical safety, mental health, and overall spiritual well-being.

Decolonization is not a metaphor, Eve Tuck and Wayne Yang insist. Carelessly calling to decolonize things like schools and other such institutions metaphorizes decolonization. To do so kills the very possibility of decolonization and re-centers whiteness; it is yet another form of settler appropriation. What would it mean then to decolonize something like theology – and Asian American theology at that? I want to suggest that decolonizing Asian American theology requires giving up the search for physical belonging, replacing it with a theology of landlessness, and to be in solidarity with indigenous struggles for sovereignty.

The precariousness of my career building made finding paid writing work a challenge. It felt like another anchor got broken off from the ship. The whole journey hit my self-esteem and sense of self really hard.