Invisibility persists throughout the Asian American story. On the one hand, xenophobia has long contributed to racism and discrimination toward Asian Americans. On the other hand, terms such as perpetual foreigner and honorific whites have been thrust upon Asian Americans, minimizing their plight with racism and erasing their experience as racial minorities. Even more indiscernible in America's racial landscape are Asian American women. The compounded effects of a patriarchal Asian culture and a marginalizing American culture are formidable, steadily removing the recognition of these women's lives, voices, and agency. Invisibility is not only a racial and cultural issue, but also a profound spiritual issue. The Western church--and its theology--has historically obscured the concerns of Asian Americans. The Asian American church relegates women to domestic, supportive roles meant to uplift male leaders. In Invisible, Grace Ji-Sun Kim examines encounters with racism, sexism, and xenophobia as she works toward ending Asian American women's invisibility. She deploys biblical, sociological, and theological narratives to empower the voices of Asian American women. And she shares the story of her heritage, her family history, her immigration, and her own experience as an Asian American woman. Speaking with the weight of her narrative, she proclaims that the histories, experiences, and voices of Asian American women must be rescued from obscurity. Speaking with the weight of a theologian, she powerfully paves the way for a theology of visibility that honors the voice and identity of these women. As Asian American women work toward a theology of visibility, they uplift the voiceless and empower the invisible, moving beyond experiences of oppression and toward claiming their space in the kin-dom of God.
Grace Ji-Sun Kim (PhD, St. Michael's College, University of Toronto) is associate professor of theology at Earlham School of Religion. She is author or editor of thirteen books, including Embracing the Other,Christian Doctrines for Global Gender Justice, and Intercultural Ministry. She is an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA).
This book was much more memoir than I was anticipating, but that's not a mark against it by any means. I was going into this book expecting exactly what was spelled out in the title, but it delivered a lot more! The historical context really contributed to my overall understanding and feelings towards the theological content. I especially appreciated how vulnerable the author was discussing her experiences of sexism and racism as a theology student in university.
Overall, I completely and 100% recommend this book for those interested in developing cultural sensitivity and competency in their ministry and lives!
The invisible God the creator became a human being and became visible through the incarnation. A God whom we can visibly see is a much more commanding God whom we can reference and accept into our lives. The visible God becomes a God whose presence takes over our lives. A visible God gives us assurance of our freedom and love. The visible God makes us all visible. This happens because we are all created in the image of the one infinite God. Thus, we need to view all people as equals .... The meaning of visibility and invisibility in relation to our spirituality can help Asian American women move toward a theology that liberates, uplifts, and empowers. It is an invitation to work toward making Asian American women and others in American society who are marginalized and made invisible feel welcome to the table and to the divine kin-dom of God.
Overall, I enjoyed this book and it opened my eyes to new understandings surrounding Asian American women and the generational trauma/baggage they carry with them. This is not what I had envisioned learning in this book, however, as the title implies at least equal, if not a greater focus, on theology. There is only one chapter out of the 5 dedicated to theology, and this chapter is more of a call for change or to create theology more welcoming for Asian American women. This theology (Visible Theology) calls for reconstruction and acts of justice to come out of our readings of Jesus (who is the ultimate embodiment of justice through example).
This book goes through 5 chapters with five different topics, the first four related to the experience of Asian women (both in their motherland culture and in American culture), and the final chapter as a call towards change in theological discourse. In the first chapter, Kim discusses stories within her family to explain the patriarchy, marginalization, silence, and invisibility within the Asian culture. She then goes unto to explain Confucius’ beliefs, as that is what is prominent within the Asian culture, specifically Korean. She then goes to explain a story outside of her family, the story of “comfort women” in WW2. This is to explain the fact that women, in Asian culture, are exploited in insidious ways, for the gratification of men’s sexual desires. I found this chapter interesting as it brought up things I had now prior knowledge of before and explained a background I’ve never been explained. In the second chapter, she geos onto discuss the history of Asian immigration, indentured servitude, as well as her own family’s story of immigrating to Canada and the phenomenon of “Yellow Peril”. The following chapter discusses racism, both in history and in practice today (with a lot of discussion around covid-19). She talks about her struggle with feeling invisible (struggle between wanting to be invisible and forced to be). She also discusses the hyper sexualization of Asian women in this chapter, along with the first chapter. The following chapter, chapter 4, took an interesting turn. Starting with introducing how she came to church, and how church became an “embracing ethnic cosmos” that reminded immigrants of their homeland, and provided a “family” in tumultuous times, it also morphed into a place that “practiced, exhibited, and harbored hatred,” (Kim, 102). She then went unto discuss the sexism she had experienced in the churches she went to, including sexism when it came to her ordination. She also discussed the sexism she encountered in higher education. She then discussed theological topics such as Christology, and the association of God with female attributes (like Sophia, wisdom). She ends her book with discussion on theology and the dangers of having a White male European theology, in which whiteness is the center. Then calls to having a “visible theology,” one that brings light to marginalized communities, and sees Jesus as a liberator.
I liked reading her writing and appreciated becoming aware of the atrocities that have happened to Asian women in the past (and present) throughout Kim’s writing. If I could change one thing, however, I would have much rather had the theological claims/ wants sprinkled throughout the book, rather than one chapter at the end.
This book was a real treat for me. While reading ‘Invisible’ (again, sorry, I am reviewing from my iPad, so no HTML formatting from me), I skimmed a few of the other reviews here. Other reviewers noted the memoir-like “feel” of ‘Invisible,’ which made me worry that this book would rely heavily on anecdotes, but theologian Grace Ji-Sun Kim does a terrific job of interweaving her life experiences with both academic religious philosophy and socio-historical contexts to lend a far more substantive analysis of religious experience than I had originally imagined. It is evident that Kim is a formidable scholar beyond the lens of religion, examining Asian-American women’s experiences from intersectional angles such as economics, linguistics, historicity, feminism, education, diaspora, etc.
My only complaint, which prevented me from giving ‘Invisible’ a five-star review, was that the book focused a bit too intensely in the first half on establishing what felt like a non-religious framework to contemplating its second half, the core theology of the book. In the first half, Kim goes into the history of racism, legislation, sexism in Confucian thought, etc. so heavily that I wondered for too long when she might dive into the religious element of it all. As I mentioned, Kim brought up Confucian teachings here & there, but she didn’t dive as thoroughly into Eastern thought as I hoped she might. I believe if Kim had highlighted Eastern philosophies as a groundwork for sexual power a bit more overtly in the first half, then the book would have held my attention a bit more. Notwithstanding, Kim really knocks it out of the park in the second half — so essentially, my review is, Stick with ‘Invisible’ because the book improves tremendously!
Kim also mentions in her Acknowledgments that she lost all of her work on this book toward the end of her writing, when she experienced a technical failure, so I imagine her original draft may have balanced her narrative much more capably. It’s a shame she had to start over, but I applaud her for nonetheless developing a wonderful book that lends rich insight into the experience of Asian American female religiosity.
Something else that should be noted is that this book focuses primarily on the experience of Asian American women from an Abrahamic (namely, Christian) tradition. There is little to read about Buddhism, Confucianism, Zoroastrianism, etc. in reading ‘Invisible,’ though I can’t say personally that I was disappointed. However, keep this important qualifier in mind when approaching this book. That being said, I don’t believe Kim intended this book to cover non-Christian faiths anyhow.
As a former (and truthfully, continuing) religion student myself, I am so pleased to read this perspective, and I am encouraged to seek out other perspectives on faith. Grace Ji-Sun Kim is a minor hero of my heart for inspiring me to rekindle this fascination that has been dormant in my mind for some time now. I have added this book to my wish list so that I can personally include it in my collection someday!
INVISIBLE: THEOLOGY AND THE EXPERIENCE OF ASIAN AMERICAN WOMEN by Grace Ji-Sun Kim chronicles Kim’s experience as a Korean American woman in Christian spaces and how the dual realities of being a woman and an Asian American served to make her - and those like her - invisible to the church and to society at large, particularly those in power.
Kim embeds her own story in the broader arc of Asian women’s history, from the pain of being forcibly used as “comfort women” by the Japanese military to the xenophobia and discrimination faced by immigrants to the U.S. She highlights the ways patriarchy expresses itself both through Confucianism and through conservative church culture to subjugate women. Readers of THE MAKING OF ASIAN AMERICA, THE MAKING OF BIBLICAL WOMANHOOD, and similar texts may find this historical context familiar, though Kim offers some new insights through the specific lens of Korean church culture.
My favorite chapter was the fifth and last chapter, where Kim discusses a theology of visibility that is inclusive and embraces those on the margins. The strongest ideas are in her application of Korean words and concepts like ou-ri, jeong, and chi to expand our notions of God and of theology. I would have loved for these eleven pages to be expanded and given room to play out more, as I am specifically interested in how we (Asian Americans) integrate our heritage with Christian theology. As Kim writes, we have much to contribute and the global church benefits when it hears from a diversity of voices and learns to experience God through other perspectives.
I have immense respect for Kim, who became a theologian at a time when that was difficult and discouraged for Asian American women (even more than now). It is because of leaders like her that we can claim our place in the conversation. Read this book to better understand how Asian women have historically been erased from consideration and to glimpse a path forward in making visible those who have been kept hidden.
The more I read and listen to and learn from the histories, experiences, and theologies of others, the richer and deeper my appreciation for the community of believers grows and the more multifaceted my understanding of God becomes. What a gift!
This book is a wonderful combination of history and memoir, leading to insightful theological views that helps expand our understanding of who God is and how we express God's love in this world.
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"My invisibility evolved from a form of self-protection to a more dangerous form of pacification, even comfort. It seemed to me that it was easier to exist passively. But now, I ask myself if it really was. What does it do to the human spirit to be invisible? What does it mean to be invisible? What do we lose as a society when we erase a group of people? This is the ongoing struggle I endured as a child growing up in the church: learning to recognize and validate my own value."
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"Jesus gives us many examples of what it means to be human, but most simply, Jesus shows us that to be human is to be connected to others--to love our neighbors and our enemies and to love God. When we think about marginalized people, we must heed their powerlessness and give back their deserved agency.
"Jesus embodies justice through example, not dogma. Not by lording it over others but by serving them, by hearing the word of God and doing it. Jesus wants reconciliation of divided peoples over worship. It is through relating to others--the poor, the sick, and the outcast--that Jesus reveals himself as the liberator, reconciler, and healer, exhibiting to us not only how to be human but the value of being human. That is why we also seek the margins and places of invisibility to see how we can find God and apply God's lessons. God is present among the invisible peoples who are seeking new ways of being in Jesus's gospel."
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"It is in relating to the marginalized that we, like Jesus, reveal ourselves to be liberators and healers of our own spirits, our own minds."
One of the most challenging dimensions of missioning with and through today’s church is the cultural impact of new means of connecting and communicating. New voices are being heard. New people are becoming visible. New relationships are being cultivated - or rejected.
This broader range of vocality and visibility changes our perception and practice of being church. It opens up new situations through which God is inspiring and instructing us to reformulate our understanding of how to be faithful, wise, and effective as ambassadors of God’s forgiving and reconciling love made most manifest in Jesus, the Christ. That’s what Canadian Presbyterians have discerned as the great affirmation of the core truth of the Gospel - God has made us ambassadors of God’s forgiving and reconciling love for the whole world.
When people who have previously gone unnoticed are seen and heard, they challenge and disrupt the ways we have practiced that calling. How, then, do we find the compassion that will lead us into a more comprehensive sense of the coherence of the Christian faith as we experience it practiced in Jesus, our triune Creator’s Christ? How do we find the courage to hear those voices with respect, especially when they criticize the ways we have been habituated into living together?
In Invisible, Grace Ji-Sun Kim takes us deep into the world of the invisible and the silenced. She is a reflective story teller, finding in her experience the slow but sure workings of her God who encourages her to find her visibility and vocality. She is also a prophetic presence in today’s church, bringing to her reading of the Gospel and to our calling to be its ambassadors a fresh vision of how the church and its contributors show up as the triune Creator’s companions in the care of all creation.
At the age of 5, Grace came to Canada with her family. They settled in London, ON. They were drawn into the warm embrace of a Korean Presbyterian Church in that city. Eventually, Grace felt called to ministry, studied at Knox College in Toronto, did doctoral work in the Toronto School of Theology, is an ordained minister of with the Presbyterian Church USA, and now teaches at Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana. She is a prolific writer (authored or edited more than 20 books), an astute user of the various social media channels available these days, and a champion of voices, including her own, that would greatly strengthen the church’s witness if heard with respect.
The particular focus in this book is Asian-American (and Canadian) women. The stories Kim recounts of her relationships with her grandmothers, her mother, her sister, and the women in the Korean Presbyterian Church in London, ON, are poignant. As they touch our souls with their lament, we get a powerful sense of what it means to really hear new voices with a tales of demeaning and dismissal to tell.
The stories Kim analyze are complex, especially as they overlap. Her descriptive language is telling – “model minority,” “enclosed,” “hidden,” “submissive,” “sexualized,” “exotic,” “legacy of shame,” and “barely visible shadows.” Kim reveals a complex net of racism from without and sexism from within her immigrant community that keeps visibility and vocality for Asian-American women on the margins.
But there is another dimension of this dynamic, one embodied by Kim herself. She has found in the Christian community and its traditions a source of resilient respect, resilience, and reform that brings her race and gender to redemptive visibility. Here is a concise summary of her theology of visibility:
A theology of visibility reminds us that everyone is a child of God, and all life is sacred. As such, we should love and embrace one another – not stereotype, racialize, discriminate against, and hate. As we live with sacredness, dignity, and love, we will recognize God who is among us and who embraces the invisible. (159)
Kim has written eloquently on two themes that are woven through this practical application of her Christian faith to her context as an Asian-America woman.
The first is the Holy Spirit. She has reformulated the Reformed articulation of that doctrine in dialogue with the Asian concepts of Chi, that life-giving energy that infuses our daily lives, of Jeong, the “sticky love” that binds us together in all of our interdependencies, of Ou-ri, the deep sense of being “us” rather than “me,” and of Han, the undeserved suffering of human beings. She talks a lot about light, wind, breath, and vibration, especially as manifest in music (including jazz!), being channels of the Holy Spirit’s workings.
The second is intersectionality. It recognizes that people live multiple intersecting systems of oppression and domination that often determine what is noticed and what is not. By seeing and hearing new voices, we awaken to the dynamics of those systems in a way that shines a light on the suffering they impose on others and on us.
In the triune Creator’s incarnation in Jesus of Nazareth, intersectional humanity living the dynamics of the divine energy was made manifest in his proclamation of the kin-dom of God with its preference for sinners, outcasts, the marginalized, the poor, and the powerless. Theirs are the voices Kim urges us to hear, the neighbours Kim urges us to see because in their welfare we will find our own. In their visibility and vocality, the full flourishing of the kin-dom of God will be realized.
Kim’s whole body of work is a good introduction to a progressive reformulation of the Christian tradition that models a form of traditioned innovation that is not defined by ancient male theologians working out of imperial church perspectives. Set within the context of her own story of gaining visibility and vocality, this book is narrative theology at its best as it opens up for its readers new possibilities for the church’s missioning.
Grace Ji-Sun Kim raises important questions in Invisible, especially around the marginalization of Asian American women in both society and the church. As a Korean American, I appreciated the personal reflections and the call to pay closer attention to overlooked voices. These conversations are necessary and long overdue.
However, I gave the book two stars because while the concerns are valid, the theological framework often moves away from the historic teachings of Christianity. The book frequently prioritizes personal and cultural experience over the authority of Scripture.
In short, Invisible is heartfelt and passionate, but its theological conclusions left me unable to recommend it more strongly. It may resonate with some readers on a cultural level, but I would encourage theological discernment as you engage with its ideas.
Kim provides it all: Rich storytelling, gut-punch social history, gracious cultural commentary, and a path forward in theology. It was hard to put this book down. I read it in three sittings.
I’m stepping away with deepened realization that, having grown up in Asian culture-saturated Hawaii, I’ve not known many of the complex struggles faced by Asian Americans on the mainland (and of course likely on the islands to a degree).
I’m grateful that Kim wrote this bold, wise theology, and will examine how I can leverage and/or surrender my privilege as a white, male pastor to honor the need for Asian American societal/church progress.
I'll just start off by saying I'm a white trans man, not who this book is particularly written for. I read this out of curiosity about the subject of invisibility, and to assess it as a possible book for small groups at the church I work at.
The introduction and first chapter were useful to me in framing the issue of invisibility and giving me a sense of lived experience. Then the next three chapters - a combination of memoir and history - felt a bit repetitive (I knew much of the history already). But the last chapter, "Living Into A Theology of Visibility" had a number of points I would like to revisit, and also makes me want to read her book on the Holy Spirit.
This book offers a voice on the experiences of Asian American women, especially Korean American women, living in US & Canada. Kim does a great job of emphasizing the reality of the situation of invisibility by reflecting on her own experiences (including her family history). Although this book is not what I expected, as it had the framework of a memoir and the theology discussion was brief, it is certainly valuable in the broader discussion of Asian American women and theology.
I had to take so many breaks reading this book because it is such a hard read :( learning about parts of American history that I was never even aware of…. It’s disgusting and makes me sick how our government treated Asians - and it’s even more sickening that some of these stigmatizations and systemic racisms are still occuring even today…
This feels like the beginning of a longer conversation. Kim weaves anecdotes and Asian-American history. Theology and religion are not explicitly addressed until the final third of the book but it makes sense. The experience of Asian American women and theology can only be understood in the context of their history in this country which includes racism and sexism.