LUU, PHUC. Jesus of the East: Reclaiming the Gospel for the Wounded. Harrisonburg VA. Herald Press. 2020. Pp. 256. $16.99 (U.S.)
The first thing that comes to mind when reading this book is its timeliness. Author Phuc Luu positions his work to speak into a wounded society convulsing under #metoo, a revitalized demand for racial justice, and growing awareness of legacies of colonialization and oppression. This book speaks into this moment with a deep review of how our religious past has contributed to our current world. As Luu frames it, “many Christians have inherited stagnant doctrines” (20) which are profoundly ill-suited to the moment. Luu presents a new mental model developed by Korean Minjung theology and early Christian theologians.
Luu spends the majority of the text deconstructing American Christianity with a review of key philosophers and theologians through the millennia who have laid the groundwork for contemporary society that permits and ignores ongoing inequality and oppression. Many authors have used theology, sociology, or personal experience in recent years to examine the failings of modern Western Christianity. Luu continues in this tradition in many ways. His principal contribution to this conversation is not only a review of early Christian authors, but an exploration of the theological idea of han. Luu offers a summary of han as birthed from a class of excluded society, or Minjung, who experienced exploitation and exclusion. Han presents the idea of sin as a deep wound that needs to be healed. Luu explores societal woundedness through the lens of han, a woundedness that requires personal healing, healing in our relationship with God, and healing within society.
In addition to han, the book is grounded by early church thinkers such as Origen, Irenaeus, Gregory of Nazianzus, Pelagius, and Athanasius of Alexandria. Luu explores these early writers’ contributions to theology, specifically around ideas of Jesus as a healer of humanity who brings people back into divine communion with God. The text connects frequently with the work of United Methodist theologian Andrew Sung Park, with whom Luu has a personal relationship and whose influence is apparent.
In Luu’s account, this review of our theological past informs how the church has contributed to racial inequality in American society today. The book is keen to speak into issues of race and oppression. One chapter explores the idea of body, arguing against a religious heritage which has, by and large, treated the individual body—and often the bodies of others—as foreign and distinct from the soul or spirit. Modern downplaying of the importance of the body of Christ has disconnected us from the physical suffering of others. Luu explores the writing of many early theologians who were more comfortable with the idea of evil and sin as perpetrated by systems in need of divine restoration. He contrasts this with a more recent concept of sin as an almost purely individualistic moral failing. Luu proposes that this individualization has created a permission structure for allowing harm against others.
Further in the book, Luu connects stale theological positions on atonement and redemptive violence to the harms perpetrated by the criminal justice system. Luu’s alternative view, based on a survey of early Christian theologians and han, is a framework that encompasses ideas of pain and woundedness both interpersonally and systemically, and an expansive view of Jesus as a healer of the “sin-sick,” and of liberation and life in a “kin-dom” of God.
Luu presents himself as part of the story, “an inbetweener” who immigrated from Vietnam as a child and who came to Christianity as an adult. The book is not a memoir, though clearly informed by his personal experience, and the book would not be the same without it. Overall, the book is readable and engaging for the average reader, though there are moments where it tips towards theological density. It cites a variety of sources and influences. It does not intersect with Anabaptism specifically, instead analyzing American Christianity writ large. Luu himself suggests that he’s still working through a theological framework. This position is perhaps permission for the reader and the wider Christian community to build on it. For the moment, he achieves his goal of presenting (perhaps furthering) han as a valuable perspective to include into today’s theology. Yet it also leaves the reader interested in how these ideas develop further in coming years by Luu and potentially others. The weakest part of the book may be the cover graphics, which are difficult to read as well as a confusing homage to both the Korean and early church influences found in the text.
Cover art aside, this book could easily be shared with a socially and religiously engaged friend or family member, or used in a variety of discussion-based church settings. For those not yet ready to engage with historical harms, or for a full critique of current Christianity, this book will feel provocative. For those already disaffected with current religious frameworks, this book offers not only a coherent summation of that disaffect, but also solace that Korean Christians and early Christian authors have already crafted theology that speaks meaningfully into modern America.