I love my home country, but having been influenced by Chinese culture while viewing my own through the eyes of others, certain aspects of American culture make me uncomfortable. Even small and simple ones. On my latest visit to my home country, books of Freedom stamps (displaying a U.S. flag) were the default at the post office. Every time I stuck one on a card to a supportive friend, I felt a little embarrassed by such a patriotic celebration of freedom.

Considering where I live, where I’m from, and what I believe, you’d think I’d love those stamps. It’s true that I’m a champion of freedom, but my perspective has changed over the years. Most Americans, I think, value their rights and in particular their rights to DO—to believe, worship, act on feelings, carry, choose, use, follow, say… My experiences in China, on the other hand, have shaped my perspective, including my faith lens, and have taught me about the freedom to BE.

Since my earliest days in China in the 1990s, my freedom has been curtailed by my university employers. I’ve had to learn a long, hard lesson on letting go of my rights. On my first short-term visit, I felt smothered when my assigned caretakers carted me off to the clinic at the first signs of illness or refused to let me leave campus without an escort. When I returned long-term, although freer, my youthful pride still chafed at my new school’s seemingly needless boundaries. In fact, one weekend my expat colleagues and I scaled the campus wall in the early morning darkness and snuck off to a different city without notifying our leaders as we knew we should. (In actuality, we should have asked their permission to leave.*) As justification, we claimed to be saving them trouble, but in reality, the cultural “fences” felt confining and seemed to infringe on our rights.

Fast forward twenty-plus years, and when the COVID-19 pandemic rolled around, I chose to stay in China and live under their strict COVID policies for three years. Having learned some important lessons since those early days, I didn’t scale any more fences, neither the physical ones surrounding my compound where my neighbors and I were confined off and on for weeks at a time, nor the cultural ones that required regular COVID testing and vaccines for the collective good. Instead, I cheerfully complied. In the process, trust grew between my school and me. I appreciated how hard they were working to take care of us, and they were thankful for my respectful compliance.

My relationship with Jesus also grew. During periods confined inside my apartment (mostly), I was free to be in His presence, comforted and at peace. On Sundays, including two of three Easter Sundays, restrictions didn’t allow indoor gatherings. However, I was free to be an ardent admirer celebrating 复活节^ℹ️, Resurrection Day—unrestricted by personal inhibitions in the presence of others, alone in my living room.

People I have met in China have also shaped my perspective on freedom. One fall day, I accompanied my friend Pingfei to the bus stop. The weather was blustery and cold, but our conversation was warm as we caught up after a long while. Years ago, she’d indicated an intent to go through the Way. On that day, something nudged me to check in. With her usual meekness, she recounted happenings in the years since expressing her intent. She’s been misunderstood and blamed. She’s been told to give up. She’s been limited at work and restricted at home. She’s felt alone. But no fence can restrain Pingfei’s heart and soul. No human can take away her right to be a child of the King or curtail her freedom to become who she was designed to be.

In my home country—out in society and at church, we seem to have a tendency to make idols out of our rights. Then paradoxically, we use our idols to box others into constricting spaces. One person’s rights often build fences that confine another. My experiences in China have shaped my perspective and taught me instead to celebrate our freedom to BE. Released from fences whether self-imposed or coerced, we are free to be children of the King, content to rest by His side and trust when He gives and takes away. In Jesus, we are liberated from our sinful desires, the wrong longings deep within, and are free to become who He designed us to be.

My faith, shaped by my Chinese encounters, inspires me to proclaim: The child was born. His name is Jesus. And we are free. On the cross, He split the darkness, broke the code, and reversed the curse. From out of the grave, He conquered death and opened the Way of freedom to be.

* You can read here about how power distance and collectivism affect relationships in Chinese culture: Country Comparison Tool (Add your own country into the search box to see how your culture compares.)

Image by John Paul Edge from Pixabay.