Chinese Compliments: Peeling the Cultural Onion

"A Culture is like an Onion!"

The First Layer: Appreciation ("Your Chinese is so good!")

As I continue to live and serve in Taiwan, certain parts of Taiwanese culture I learned at the beginning reveal themselves to be more complicated than they first appeared.

Years ago, during my previous stay in Taiwan, I felt like Taiwanese people were very generous with compliments. People often commented at how I was good at using chopsticks, how my Chinese was impressive, etc. I felt it was just a way to be polite, especially to a guest in their country.

Another missionary commented once that if your Chinese gets really good, you stop getting compliments. His theory was that people stopped thinking of you as struggling to speak the language and needing encouragement, and simply focused on communicating with you, or even that if your Chinese was really good, they would start comparing you to themselves or other native speakers and not feel excessive praise was warranted.

The Second Layer: Realization ("Oh, it's Just Saving Face")

He may have been right, but I think there is something else in play as well. As I think back on the times I've been complimented, sticking to the examples of using chopsticks and speaking Chinese, there are usually two special situations where someone will most frequently offer a compliment (obviously in many parts of the world if you do something well someone might notice and compliment you on it; I am speaking of situations where cultural factors are more obviously at play):

1) You are a foreign stranger
Compared against the average stereotype of a Westerner, any 'waiguoren' in Taiwan who can use chopsticks without dropping things all the time, and speak even a few intelligible sentences in Mandarin, is already ahead of the curve. The bar is typically very low for anyone who "looks like a foreigner" (ethnically non-Asian based on appearance), so you get a free chance to fly high over it and impress someone the first time you meet them. After that they know you, and will probably tone down the compliments as they now expect it from you.

2) You fumbled
As Westerners the first example makes sense. Meeting someone at your work for the first time and witnessing they're fluent in Mongolian or skilled at origami, a compliment might come reflexively. It might not be so special in Mongolia, or Japan, but outside of those countries, and if they aren't from there, it's the kind of accomplishment that naturally garners some praise.

But in this second example of when people compliment you in Taiwan we encounter some significant cultural differences. For me, it began with noticing a funny discrepancy in the times I got compliments, in that often I felt like it came not at a time when I felt particularly fluent in Mandarin or adept at chopsticks, but when I was struggling. I might almost drop a piece of food, or barely manage to get my brain and mouth in sync to get all the right words out to express myself, and it's right then that someone smiles and compliments me on how good my chopstick skills are, or how good I am at speaking Chinese.

It confused me until I remembered the idea of "saving face" in Chinese culture. A lot of politeness that adults show to each other in Taiwan revolves around helping each other to "save face." It's an inheritance from the honor/shame aspect of Chinese culture which is still strongly influential in Taiwan. Saving face can either be positive (something done or said to "give face" to someone, honoring them), or negative (avoiding words or actions that would cause someone to lose face, or incur public dishonor).

Sometimes that looks like what we're familiar with in the West, trying to help someone get through an awkward moment gracefully to spare them embarrassment, or complimenting them in front of others to build them up, but sometimes it can happen in ways that are surprising, or sometimes even irritating, if one doesn't take the extra mental step of remembering what's going on behind the scenes.

[The Books aren't Always Right: While studying up on Chinese culture before coming to Taiwan, I read in a culture book on the topic of saving face that it was normal for people to not react when something was dropped and broken, and not come to help someone pick up what they dropped, in an effort to save them face and pretend they hadn't done anything potentially embarrassing. I can say from experience that neither of these scenarios are so extreme in Taiwan: a number of people will turn around to look if a dish is dropped loudly in a restaurant (but some will smile reflexively, to cover the embarrassment), and someone will often run to help a person who has dropped things, the one being helped typically thanking them profusely. I don't know if the mainland is different, or if that describes Chinese culture decades ago, but rubberneckers are alive and well in any part of the world I've visited thus far...]

So in the case of compliments, then, they are often not compliments per se, but a polite way to get past the awkwardness of a mistake or struggle in performance.

The Third Layer: Understanding ("I Guess that Actually Makes Sense")

Having realized this, I was tempted to be vaguely resentful: so in the end people were not "really" complimenting me, in fact they were doing something nearly the opposite--acknowledging that I'd messed up. From a Western perspective, it's less like an acknowledgement of merit, and more like whipping out febreeze and spraying it around in the awkward silence after someone has a bout of flatulence: in a sense it magnifies exactly the embarrassment the gesture was meant to cover/relieve.

In Chinese culture, however, there is a tacit collective understanding that mistakes or failings which everyone is willing to overlook or graciously cover for are like the tree that falls in the woods with no one around to hear it. No ears, no sound-no acknowledgement, no shame. Everyone covers for each other, if you have a good relationship with them, and the problems don't exist. (Which is one way that sometimes in East Asian cultures small problems can become enormous issues, but that's a topic for a different post)

A similar situation arises with making cultural mistakes, something I blogged about previously. While I typically want to be told when I commit a cultural faux pas, so that I can avoid making the same mistake next time, my friends might try to help me save face by not saying anything. We therefore have a somewhat humorous impasse: to me, being a good friend is telling me what everyone else already knows so I don't keep acting improperly and being the only one who doesn't know it, and to them, being a good friend means pretending I didn't do anything wrong so that it's not awkward. (Friends who understand you are trying to be a student of the culture and are good at explaining those things are very valuable)

This also explains the observation at the beginning, that as one's Chinese improves, the number of compliments you receive for it diminishes. You don't need as many compliments, because you are making fewer mistakes! Like so many things, it only seems counterintuitive until you understand the reasons behind it.

The Fourth Layer: Responding in Kind ("Do Unto Others...")

In the end, when one begins to become more familiar with the reasons behind the way people act, there is always a choice to be made. You can judge the cultural habit, and decide whether you approve or disapprove of it, or you can judge the motive behind it. In this case, trying to help you save face is definitely a friendly action. It's following the Golden Rule; what they would want you to do for them, they are doing for you. And that's the most you can ask of anyone.

So, one reaches a deeper layer of the cultural onion: learning to understand why people do what they do, and appreciating the good motives behind the action. Then instead of confusion, stress, or resentment, there is gratitude. That is also a necessary step to reaching the next layer down: learning how to help others save face, but doing so in a way that not only corresponds to the culture, but to the often counter-cultural teachings of Christ.

Think about the excruciating extent to which Jesus, as an honored teacher, let alone the Son of God, willingly lost face, allowing Himself to be publicly humiliated and dishonored as far as humanly possible, out of His love for us. 

As He taught us, we must often, rather than saving face, turn the other cheek.

A New Testament World in 2015: To Eat, or Not to Eat

A Bit of Context: Skip if you Hate History

 

Roots in history...

The Old Testament became clearer to me once I had lived in Taiwan. I don't mean that I was enlightened as to the theological significance of certain passages (although that's happened naturally along the way too), but that you simply look at the Old Testament differently when you've lived in a culture that was around in one form or another while it was being written.

For example, around the time Moses was ruling as the Prince of Egypt, the Shang dynasty was succeeding the mysterious Xia dynasty as the precursors to the ancient Chinese empire. Chinese culture had barely begun to develop then, of course, but the important thing is that it's considered the same culture in a sometimes jumpy but unbroken line since then. That line was frayed and all but severed in China by the devastating and culturally suicidal Cultural Revolution, an intentional attempt to break from the past, but in the end China is still China. (Taiwan never experienced the Cultural Revolution, and Chinese visitors are sometimes shocked to see how traditionally Chinese it feels, like an alternate future in which China was never Communist)

In cultures this old, regardless of the great changes experienced along the way, certain ancient things get passed down, even a lot of things of which people inside the culture are unaware, and including some things we see in the cultural setting of both the Old and New Testaments. A lot of the context of Biblical culture applies more easily.

So it is for reasons of history and not of cultural compatibility that America and Christianity have been so closely identified. Historically speaking, America was settled largely by Christians from Europe when Europe was still Christian, and therefore from its earliest days, the faith and ideals associated with it were present.

Culturally, however, it's one of the current existing cultures least like those in the background of scripture. Most Americans today are descendents of those who left the Old World and together created a new one, quite unlike the place they left behind. Even back at America's founding, the post-enlightenment West was teetering at the brink of the Industrial Revolution, and already entering Classical Modernity. The West had been Christian for a while, at least in the official sense. The dark, old fear and ritual appeasement of the spirit world of the pre-Christian West was confined to the remotest areas where the church was least strong, or else carried on in folk traditions. Those kinds of traditions are usually tied closely to the land, and only in the countryside of the earliest-settled parts of the US do you see these kinds of folk traditions having any kind of strength. Mostly they endure in individual family customs, things done because grandparents did them, though the grandparents themselves might not have fully understood why, only that it's nice to keep family traditions alive.

So ironically in the foremost country of the New World, one that had (at the beginning) an appreciation for but the least possible ties to global Antiquity, the ancient books of the Bible were more known, revered, and followed than in most of the Old World where the very cultural legacy of those events could be seen and felt all around. Americans believed the Bible even while they could only guess at what life was like back then, whereas in much of the world life continued much as it had at that time.

Taiwan and the world of the Bible

Traditional worshipers offer incense to a goddess idol

Here in Taiwan it is nearly the opposite. The legacy of those ancient days in which the Bible was written can be seen around one. People perform spirit-channeling or exorcism rituals and occasionally still cut themselves bloody in front of idols to evoke a response. Food is offered to idols before being eaten. Divine lots are cast. Whole pigs are sacrificed to ancestral spirits. The "spreading trees" the Old Testament talks about in connection with idolatry are here and there, called "divine wood" and often marked with red ribbon. Birds and insects are placed alive in the back of some newly-made idols as sacrifices in order to bind their associated spirits to them. The lunar calendar is closely followed, and all religious and traditional events are based on it. (like in Jewish culture)

One can walk through noisy and bustling markets filled with the smell of internal organs, fresh produce, and incense wafting from the central temple (around which most traditional markets are based). Beggars and monks beg, stall owners call out to for you buy their wares, idol processions pass with blaring trumpets and pounding drums, navigating streets which are not always straight; a maze known to locals but confusing to outsiders.

The difference in 2015 is that those monks sometimes have smart phones, and you can get to those temples by taking the subway. But technology is merely a feature of life, and in the East (outside of Japan, perhaps, but to some extent even there) it rests much more lightly on the shoulders of culture.

In terms of Biblical culture, America is like having moved far away from the old family farm to a new house in the city, and your descendents having to look at pictures of old farmhouses and tractors and imagine what it was like for their family to have once lived there. Taiwan is like still living in a family farm, generations later. The old farmhouse has electricity now, and your tractor has GPS, but it's still an old farmhouse and tractor. You "get" that life, because you still live in that context, and the advances of technology are a comparatively minor difference compared to that major point in common.

For a more vivid example, imagine the difference between someone saying "there is a rabid dog loose in the next building," and "there is a rabid dog loose at the end of this hallway." In the former case you recognize the threat, but also that there is an effective separation between you and it. In the latter, you feel the force of the threat directly because there is nothing between you and it but an expanse of empty space. Taiwan feels like that; ancient times are only separated from you by the passing of generations here, and you feel their force.

So while those dwelling in the lands of suburbia or coffeeshopolis can only imagine what it might be like to live in the cultures of the Bible, in Taiwan one has the sense of what it would be like if those cultures were merely updated to the present, without any real breaks from the past. Give Paul a cellphone, Demetrius a megaphone to incite the protestors in Ephesus, stick King Agrippa in a motorcade, and maybe get the lecture hall of Tyrannus some whiteboards and a projector, and you get the idea.

Food Sacrificed to Idols: A Personal Example

If you have spent more than a couple years in church, you are probably familiar with the writings of Paul. One of the things Paul talks about, in one of his brilliant passages about Christian freedom/responsibility, is the question of eating food, in this case meat, which has been sacrificed to idols.

²⁵ Eat whatever is sold in the meat market without raising any question on the ground of conscience. ²⁶ For “the earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof.” ²⁷ If one of the unbelievers invites you to dinner and you are disposed to go, eat whatever is set before you without raising any question on the ground of conscience. ²⁸ But if someone says to you, “This has been offered in sacrifice,” then do not eat it, for the sake of the one who informed you, and for the sake of conscience— ²⁹ I do not mean your conscience, but his. For why should my liberty be determined by someone else's conscience? ³⁰ If I partake with thankfulness, why am I denounced because of that for which I give thanks? ³¹ So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. (1 Corinthians 10:23-31, ESV)

I. Application in America:

This and passages like in it Paul's letters are sometimes invoked when one is considering issues like drinking alcohol for Christians. The Bible condemns drunkenness and a drunken lifestyle, but does not call alcoholic consumption itself a sin, yet there are Christians with such a strong tradition of abstinence from all alcohol that their conscience does not permit them to drink at all. In their case, then, abstaining is right and proper, and violating their conscience to drink would be sin. (Though a careful study of scripture might lead them to see that there is nothing inherently sinful about it, and if they changed their mind based not on pressure from other believers but on the testimony of scripture, then drinking would no longer be sinful for them) 

Paul both condemns their placing that rule on others (many pastors seem to totally ignore this passage), and also condemns attempting to persuade someone to violate their conscience. In other words, the one who does not drink alcohol cannot condemn the one who does (though he can exhort him to avoid drunkenness if that danger exists), but the one who drinks can't try to persuade the one who doesn't drink to have a drink with him, in violation of his conscience, and might best avoid drinking in front of him altogether. Paul is happy to give up a freedom out of concern for someone, yet strong in his condemnation of those who would take away the freedom altogether.

Now in America we would less frequently cite 1 Cor 8, and more commonly go to Romans 14 (which mentions both eating and drinking, and drinking wine). This is because the question of things having been sacrificed to idols is not really a pertinent one to us. Those passages can even make the Bible feel further away and less applicable to us today. (As I keep reminding people, that is not because the Bible is weird, but because we are weird, in terms of how all people throughout history and around the world have lived/live now.)

Gotquestions has a good article on the topic of meat/food sacrificed to idols, which in some ways underlines my point:

"One of the struggles in the early church concerned meat which had been sacrificed to idols. Debates over what to eat might seem strange to most of us in modern society, but to the first-century believers, it was a subject of great consequence. As the apostles dealt with the issue, they gave instructions on several broader topics with application for today..."

Americans often feel they have to get pretty abstract when looking for applications of scriptural teaching, because the culture in America is so different. It's hard to imagine a direct application of the passage about meat sacrificed to idols, and any attempt to cleverly figure out a cultural parallel is probably going to be a stretch at best. We can see the general lesson Paul is getting at, however, and that's good enough for us.

In Taiwan today, however, the passage can be applied a little more directly...

II. Application in Taiwan:

Table of food and spirit money laid out for ancestral spirits in my neighborhood a few days ago

In Taiwan, in AD2015 just as much as AD15, there is a direct and immediate application.

Idols are still worshipped, not abstract ones like wealth or popularity, but actual statues and figurines. Part of this worship involves placing food before them, often fruit and bowls of rice, but sometimes chickens, pigs, whole prepared meals and other things as well. (rituals differ in different sects, traditions, and places)

Similar tables, set out last week in front of a nearby Starbucks and bank

An additional form of idolatry is the worship/appeasement of ancestral spirits. Especially right now during Ghost Month in Taiwan, one can see tables loaded with snacks, incense, and spirit money (which gets burned later, in a ritual meant to send it into the spirit world so ancestors will have better status there too), laid out as an offering to spirits, to ask them not to bother the store, business performance, employees, or owners.

No one wants to waste all the snacks, so usually they all get divided up among the employees later, who take them home to their families and eat them.

Now imagine my surprise one day upon returning home to my apartment to find a couple little bags of what look like trash sitting in the hallway outside my door. A closer investigation revealed they were not trash, but actually snacks and a couple of drinks (tea and soda).

Some really Taiwanese snacks, plus Heysong Sarsaparilla and tea

Within a few seconds I guessed what had happened. It is not only businesses, but apartment buildings as well that will put out offering tables. I had in fact noticed a poster several days earlier on our bulletin board downstairs which notified residents that the offering would happen at a certain day and time, for anyone who wanted to attend the ceremony. (Because of the layout of our building and the road downstairs, they can't just leave the tables out all day) Seeing the snacks, I realized that it was in fact the day the bulletin had mentioned, and so it seemed one of my neighbors had thought of me and brought me back some of the snacks from the offering.

My initial reaction was to feel good that they had remembered me. (I moved in recently and have only recently met my neighbors and had one or two elevator conversations with them) Then, I pondered whether to eat the snacks or not.

It was sort of a funny surprise to realize that I had encountered a problem for which I could apply Paul's writings not only conceptually but very literally. Because I now live in a culture that stretches back to biblical times, the examples drawn from that cultural background suddenly were directly relevant to me.

So I looked up what Paul had said about eating offerings to idols, and again felt impressed when I realized I was now living in the world he was talking about. It was like stepping back in time, except I had really just left the West and entered the wider world, where many places haven't broken with the past on their way to the present.


III. To Eat, or Not to Eat?

Now I had to figure out whether I was going to eat the snacks or throw them away. Like the question about eating blood*, it's not something I take lightly or ignore as merely an issue for those times. Because while we may not see it in America, we still live in the world described in the Bible. God's rules don't simply vanish into the aether over the centuries, either He specifically released us from following them or we still have to.

(*- It's a common ingredient in food here, and I do eat it along with my Taiwanese friends, but only after deciding that it was not wrong as a Gentile Christian for me to do so, after a careful study of scripture and conversations/debates with a couple of Messianic Jewish friends) 

But it seems in this case, I had stumbled on a problem that first-century believers also faced, and therefore I had direct guidelines from Paul on how to deal with this:

1. (1 Cor 8:4-6) Paul clearly says that an idol is nothing of itself. While it's easy to see that idolatry is a short road to entanglement in evil spiritual influence (in Taiwan you can literally observe this), the idol itself is not a real god, and believers recognize that it is not a true god, nor participate in idolatry simply because the food has at one point been physically been located in front of it. (or in my case, on a table on display)

2. (Romans 14) Paul says that despite having freedom, we should not harm the spiritual life of fellow believers by causing them to violate their conscience. In this case no Taiwanese believers were present. If they had been, depending on who it was, it would probably be right to refrain from eating, knowing that it was a deep cultural issue for them, because of their former ways. (1 Cor 8:7) On the other hand, they might explain they too had cast off idolatry, demonstrated their allegiance to Christ through baptism, and regarded the food as nothing special, in which case this wouldn't specifically be a reason not to eat it, but an occasion to rejoice in our freedom in Christ and eat with thanks.

3. (1 Cor 10:27-29) Paul says that we can simply eat food that might have been sacrificed to idols without questions of conscience, but if someone informs us it was offered to idols, we should refrain from eating, not for our own sake but for theirs. In this case, it was exactly like verse 27. The food was simply left outside my door, without even a note saying where it came from or who had left it there. They also have no idea what I did with it, merely that it was gone if they ever came back and checked, since one can't leave bags of snacks sitting out in the hallway. On the other hand, had they knocked on my door while I was home and informed me that it had been offered in the "bai bai" (word in Taiwan for traditional rituals), and asked if, since they knew I was a Christian, I was able to eat it, a strong case can be made based on those verses that I would need to politely decline.

4. (1 Cor 10:30-31) Finally, Paul says that if our conscience is not bothered, we can eat (or drink), with thanks and giving glory to God. This is what I decided to do. Finding that, based on the other passages, I was not forbidden to eat in general, did not have the religious/cultural background that made it a matter of conscience for me, and would not be offending the conscience of anyone else, whether believers or nonbelievers, I ate the snacks with thanks, and appreciative that my neighbors had thought about me. My prayer is that one day they will know the true God, and rather than snacks from offering tables eaten separately, we might eat and drink Christ's Communion together and rejoice in the knowledge of the Lord who alone is worthy to receive the praise they had formerly been offering to idols and spirits.

Struggles Not In Common

A Carnival of Symbology

A trip to a night market in Taiwan is consistently one of the most memorable experiences for newcomers to the island. The barrage of colorful sights, music competing from different shops, smells of food cooking, of cigarette smoke, of flowing crowds like rivers of humanity, make for an absorbing, fascinating, and sometimes overwhelming introduction to Taiwan and "how things are" here.

Among the stalls you can find nearly everything; from delicate fruit, honey, and shaved ice creations to fried chicken butts on a stick, tacky souvenirs to designer handbags, discount kitchenware to silk ties... the only thing you're not likely to find is a spot quiet enough to make a phone call without shouting.

Among all this even a cursory examination of some of the smaller stalls will reveal a wide array of cigarette lighters, from led light-enhanced chrome zippos to cheap plastic bic-types, covered in random designs drawn from the global soup of symbology, everything from Snoopy to the Nazi flag.

An Arresting Symbol

Wait, the Nazi flag? You might be highly offended at this. It was certainly jarring to see on my first visit to Taiwan. But do you know the history behind the Nazi flag design and its instantly recognizable swastika? It's not a symbol the Nazis made up, but a very, very old one co-opted by Hitler, with his fascination for ancient objects and symbols of power, and exploited in the Nazis' self-serving reconception of history according to their twisted ideals.

The term swastika actually comes from a Sanskrit word, svastika, which denotes a good luck charm or mark, and the symbol itself is thousands of years old, found across the ancient world from Roman mosaics to Japanese clan symbols. It was used for thousands of years as a religious or lucky symbol with various connotations, and became closely identified with Buddhism. Across East Asia, including my city district, it still is:

Does this offend you? Do you wince a little automatically when you see it? What might go through a visiting Jewish person's mind? Should Westerners for whom the symbol is 100% synonymous with hate, racism, and death camps try to get Buddhist people in Asia to stop using it, when that's not what it means to Buddhist people at all?

In Taiwan, the symbol can be seen fairly frequently. It's one of the most compelling reminders that I am not in the West, that I am in a place where even symbology is different, where what "everyone" instantly recognizes as a symbol of historic evil is instead regarded as a positive symbol and displayed in various religious contexts, even used on area maps in the subway stations to denote the locations of Buddhist temples. (Christian churches are marked with crosses).

The emotional impact of the symbol having been co-opted by the Nazis is simply absent here, to the extent that at times the graphic being used is the actual Nazi flag. While some might simply be trying to borrow a recognizable or "rebellious" symbol to put on the lighters or other places, its use in some other situations convinced me that often it's just a case of someone thinking it was a colorful version of the normal Asian religious symbol. The horrible and unbreakable associations of the symbol for Westerners don't exist here, because this is not the West. Though there was frequently contact and a bit of overlap, for the most part Far Eastern history is not Western history, and Western history is not Far Eastern history. Many horrible historical incidents and times of suffering in East Asia are enshrined in the cultural consciousness of people here, events of which most Westerners have never even heard, and vice versa. Our struggles are different, and the legacies of history that affect us today are different. That is part of what it means to be a member of a different culture.

When Symbol Interpretations Collide, Identities Suffer

What we might call "symbol conflict" is just one of the many discontinuities one encounters and must endure when crossing cultures. And now the internet, with its vast resources of instantly accessible information, provides uncountable opportunities for these encounters with no context whatsoever. If you saw a bunch of monks with swastikas on their heads, and didn't know the history of the symbol, you might be incredibly confused. Your imaginative explanation probably could not be devoid of references to Hitler, Nazis, or white supremacy movements, because that's the only context you know for that symbol.

Globalism means that our symbols, our cultural memes and shared understandings of things, more and more often rub up against different interpretations and understandings of the world. Sometimes these are mutually exclusive. Sometimes one interpretation wins, as we've seen in the US with the recently revived debate over the Confederate flag. To a minority, it's a meaningful and important symbol of the heritage of their land and culture, something that ties them to their forebearers and unites them as a group. That race-based slavery was part of that culture in the past is not seen as something positive, but is also not the primary association being made, any more than the primary association of the American flag for Americans is the conquest and slaughter of America's indigenous inhabitants. To the majority, however, the Confederate flag is simply a symbol of racism and slavery, and that interpretation has won out. Even as I write this, the flag is being taken down around the South in many official contexts where it was still being used, as Southerners in positions of authority decide that, rightly or wrongly, perceptions are not going to be changed by more explaining. (Whether demands to eliminate all symbols of Southern history will be taken seriously remains to be seen. There are many who desire, like a new Pharaoh, to have the names of old rivals chiseled away, erased from history itself.)

So the minority is being forced to abandon their symbol, because what it communicated to the majority outside the culture was not the same as what it communicated within their culture. And it may be that the majority is not particularly concerned with what the minority might think about these symbols as regards their identity, because any separate identity along those lines is also considered negative and desired to disappear. There are parallels to this in history. At the beginning of the Meiji era of Japanese history, when its rulers decided that Japan would become a modern nation and sought to imitate many Western ways and customs, many of the old feudal rules concerning the samurai were discarded en masse and new rules banning the distinctive samurai hairstyle and the wearing of swords put in place. Many samurai resisted to the utmost of their abilities, and there were large-scale rebellions; their very identity was bound up in these symbols, and their disappearance marked not only the end of their own role in society but the fading of an entire historical era into the past, never to return. No one likes to be declared a living obsoletion, socially undead. But the changes were inevitable, and the samurai were ended, and died off; victims, in a sense, of globalism in its early stages.

Samurai from the Satsuma clan, who initially fought with the Imperial Army
against a samurai army resisting the Meiji era government, then themselves
rebelled after realizing the new government would end the samurai way of life.
(This is the historical basis of the movie The Last Samurai, as described here)

Tolerance vs. the Will of the Majority

The swastika has not disappeared, however; it is a common sight in this part of the world. To be honest, I haven't gotten used to it yet, perhaps I never will. Perhaps I shouldn't, even outside of my home culture context. But I recognize that what it evokes for me is simply not what it evokes for the vast majority of people who grew up here. That's part of what it means to live as a minority in a culture different than one's home culture; in a nutshell, it doesn't matter what I think. It doesn't matter what the entire foreign expat community here thinks. If I began defacing every swastika I saw, I would be put in jail, and rightly so. It doesn't matter how it makes me feel, because my feelings are not those of the people of my host culture. I am not in the context from which those negative associations arose. Our historical struggles have been different; we've overcome different hardships and weathered different storms, and we've developed different symbols or have come to associate the same ones with very different meanings.

Truly accepting diversity means not pretending we are all the same. It means recognizing that some cultures and historical legacies are so different from ours that a powerfully negative symbol of hate in our culture can be a powerful symbol of blessing in theirs. If we understand this, we can accept it. But many people don't actually accept it. They simply abide what they can't change, but then change it at the first opportunity. "On earth as is best in my opinion." They can't accept any viewpoint other than their own, and so when they use the term diversity what they really mean is homogeneity; that there are and should be no differences between people, because lacking the supernatural love of Christ or even a culture of respect, which can stretch across wide barriers of creed or color, they have no means of handling real differences. Sometimes those who shout the loudest about diversity are actually proclaiming their inability to tolerate it. (They typically reveal themselves by trying to silence anyone who truly disagrees with them.)

A Struggle We Do Share

Everyone is not the same. Sometimes our worldviews are radically different and irreconcilable. Living and ministering in Taiwan means both trying to learn and understand the different worldviews of people in my new context, accepting what I can accept, and showing the love of Christ always -and respect where it is due- to those people who hold views I can't accept. After all, I still hold views Christ can't accept, and His love for me doesn't vary on that basis.

So our struggle is not whether we can love someone or not based on whether their ideas and cultural views are reconcilable with ours or not. The story of the Good Samaritan, told in response to someone asking Jesus who could be considered their neighbor (an attempt to narrow the love requirement down to as few people as possible), is about someone whose very identity as a "tainted blood" Jew was repugnant and unacceptable to Jesus' Jewish audience. The struggle is whether or not we can love our neighbors, whoever they might be and whatever they might think about the world. Tolerance can only accept differences, it cannot heal wounds. But the love of Christ expressed through we who know it can take the initiative; it does not need to pretend there are no barriers to leap across them and turn the different, into family.