Reading Theologically

6. Reading Differently

6 Reading Differently James W. McCarty III Context matters. We can understand the words and actions of others only with knowledge of the contexts in which those words were spoken and those actions taken. For example, whether someone thinks it is appropriate to wear shoes in one’s home depends on their historical and cultural context. An early-twenty-first-century American will probably hold a different view on this question from her Korean contemporary. A parallel principle holds in theology. To do theology well, then, requires the ability to think with people in different contexts. This chapter explores why this is the case and how one might approach doing so. First, however, here are three examples from my own experience of the ways that context matters for theological thinking. 95 A Tale of Three Churches I grew up attending a small church on the edge of town in the Pacific Northwest. The church was located on a street that marked the boundary between the area’s urban center and the rural mountain towns that lead up to Mt. Rainier’s towering snow-capped peak. Our parking lot was a field in which I would catch frogs and garter snakes in the summer, and our sanctuary a converted garage in which I preached my first sermon. Occasionally, trains would barrel down the tracks just outside our doors, and we sang at the top of our lungs so that we could hear our own voices. When there were no trains, we often studied and worshiped to the rhythm of Seattle rain pattering on the roof. It was in this space, where I was mentored by machinists and soldiers and warehouse workers, that I first learned to read and think theologically. I spent my most formative years in ministry at a church in south central Los Angeles, in a primarily and historically African-American congregation in an increasingly Mexican neighborhood, just blocks from another neighborhood colloquially known as “Koreatown.” Its location was a microcosm of the economically segregated internationalism that makes up “the City of Angels.” Every Sunday I, a biracial Korean-American man, would stand in front of this congregation located a few short blocks from the epicenter of the 1992 Los Angeles riots (during which many black residents looted Korean businesses because they felt exploited by Korean shop owners) and proclaimed God’s message of justice and reconciliation. And each Sunday on my way to that church, I passed liquor stores, payday loan businesses, soul food restaurants, the colorful paintings of street graffiti artists, and burned-out buildings still bearing the marks of the riots that occurred twenty years ago. In inviting me to serve as one of their ministers, the church embodied God’s ministry of Reading Theologically 96 reconciliation in its own life even as it struggled to enact it beyond its scripture-covered walls. Between and during my time at these two soul-shaping congregations, I spent time serving a ministry in Nairobi, Kenya. This particular ministry serves the physical and spiritual needs of homeless children and orphans living in Nairobi’s slums. In addition to providing meals, clothing, and vocational training, the ministry offers opportunities for worship, prayer, and Bible study at “bases” in the slum. Slum bases are locations where homeless children and teenagers congregate to form small communities that provide protection and other social needs. These bases are located throughout the slum in places such as back alleys, abandoned fields, and garbage dumps. The primary slum the ministry works in, Eastleigh, is comprised of poor Kenyan Christians, often people from rural towns who moved to the city, and Ethiopian and Somalian refugees who have started small businesses. Every day, its streets are filled with the broken Swahili of uneducated children, the enchanting Arabic of the Muslim call to prayer, the invigorating smell of strong Ethiopian coffee, and the sour smells of concentrated poverty in a developing country. In each of these contexts—a small-town church in the Pacific Northwest, an urban congregation in inner-city Los Angeles, and the slums of Nairobi—I have read one of Jesus’ parables. Often titled “The Rich Man and Lazarus,” this story is found in Luke 16:19-31. The parable is unique for several reasons: first, it is the only one of Jesus’ parables to include a named character, importantly a poor, sickly beggar; second, it is only recorded in Luke’s Gospel and...