A Confucian Episcopalian

The issue of multiple religious belonging or participation has been challenging for many Christians, who have long held to the notion of religious exclusivity. In the late twentieth century, the issue was often framed as “dual religious citizenship,” a term with unfortunate baggage from the European history of Christianity. Hans Küng considered the notion of “dual citizenship” between Chinese Religions and Christianity only to soundly reject it.¹ More than a decade later, at two international Confucian-Christian dialogues, the issue arose again and became a significant point of discussion at the 1991 conference in Berkeley. At that conference, Chinese Christian participants acknowledged their “intra-personal religious dialogue” between their Christian religious affiliation and their Confucian cultural roots, while several Western Christian scholars of Confucianism proudly claimed to be “Confucian Christians.” Reflecting on those two meetings, John Berthrong articulated a case for some hybrid or multiple Confucian-Christian identity, based on the thought of New Confucian Mou Tsung-shan.² By 2008, K. K. Yeo was unapologetic in affirming his religious hybridity as a Christian theologian with a Chinese culture and education.³ Paul Knitter, long an articulator of theology of religions, roundly affirmed his own multiple religious participation in his recent book, Without Buddha I Could not be a Christian.⁴ While the issue is neither settled for all, nor comfortable for many, both scholars and laypersons are increasingly reflecting on their cultural hybridities. These sometimes entail multiple religious participation. The developments in the scholarly literature over the past several decades have provided me with categories to understand and acknowledge my own inter-religious complexities. They give me the tools to ask and answer the questions: How did a nice Iowa girl, raised an active Presbyterian, end up as a Confucian/ Daoist Episcopalian? What does that particular hybridity mean?

It all began in college in the 1960s. Convinced that I was headed for ordination, I served for two years in a United Church of Christ student ministry in rural Minnesota at a parish without a pastor. Toward the end of my second year I took a Japanese Christian friend with me to the parish and was shocked at their reaction: they would not approach him, and one older gentleman called him a “Jap.” These were good Christian folk, but they had never met anyone of Asian descent and they were infected with vestiges of anti-Asian rhetoric from World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. On that day I realized that my calling was not to the parish but to the classroom: to be a scholar and interpreter of East Asian cultures and religions.

Kong, Ke Li—Chinese Calligrapher/Descendant of Confucius.

Courtesy of Jerry Bei

As I began graduate study I made a decision to draw back from Christian worship, even though I had been extremely active in the church. I wanted to commit myself fully to understanding East Asian religions: intellectually while in graduate school in New York, and then both intellectually and experientially during the two and a half years I spent in Taiwan, Japan, and Korea. In Asia I visited temples and attended all the ceremonies and festivals I could. That decision opened me to a fuller and deeper exposure to Eastern traditions. I have recounted elsewhere how a Daoist fire walking ceremony in Taipei made me an Episcopalian, reminding me forcefully of the power of ritual and liturgy as a way of embodying religious identity and principles.⁵

The impact of Confucianism on my spiritual identity is more complex. First, during graduate school I studied with scholars—particularly William Theodore de Bary, Wingtsit Chan, and Weiming Du—who affirmed the Confucian teachings and values as a heritage for humankind. Immersion in the texts and teachings of the great Neo-Confucians, in particular, captured my imagination and intellectual energies. I was inspired by this humanistic tradition with a nuanced relationship between learning/ reflection and the cultivation of human relationships and moral responsibilities.

Second, while living for two and a half years in East Asia, I was able to observe the impact of Confucianism on human...