Reflecting on a Life Dedicated to Inclusion

by Hisako Miyazaki Beasley

This past year has been one of deep reflection as an Asian woman in the Episcopal Church. At our 2003 General Convention in Minneapolis, Resolution A-098 was passed, commemorating the ordination of Florence Li Tim-Oi, the first woman priest in the worldwide Anglican Communion. The resolution authorizes trial use of a liturgy celebrating her ministry during the current triennium (a three-year period in the church), which will be considered at the next General Convention for permanent inclusion in the church's annual liturgical calendar.

Upon my return from Minneapolis, I was surprised to face such strong reactions from some fellow Episcopalians critical of what we had done at the Convention. On the other hand, I was even more surprised to hear from friends – and even strangers – outside of our church, who were thanking us for taking a strong stand in support of the ministry of gays and lesbians.  

I believe the central issue was all about inclusion. We are ALL invited to sit at the table with Jesus. If someone wants to deny others Jesus' invitation to the table, I would like to ask what makes them think that they are included in his invitation.

I was delighted that the Florence Li Tim-Oi resolution was passed. The decision by Bishop Hall to ordain a woman in 1944 was courageous, but is little-known these days. I was determined to have a celebration of her 60th ordination anniversary on January 24th , 2004 at St. Mark's Cathedral in Seattle.

To my surprise, [the video about Tim-Oi] became painful for me to watch, as I learned of her many physical, mental and spiritual hardships under the Japanese military during her ministry in China. It was a painful sense of guilt because, not only I am Japanese like the Army, but also I was there in that part of China as an infant during the oppressive regime.

I viewed a video of her life, Return to Hepu (available from the Episcopal Media Center ) as a careful preparation for the celebration. To my surprise, it became painful for me to watch, as I learned of her many physical, mental and spiritual hardships under the Japanese military during her ministry in China. It was a painful sense of guilt because, not only I am Japanese like the Army, but also I was there in that part of China as an infant during the oppressive regime. The process of preparation for the service, however, became graceful once I recognized the pain; and the more I learned of her strong faith in Christ, the more I felt free from guilt.

My Multiethnic Family Background

I was born in Manchuria, China, of a Japanese father and a half-Russian mother, but I grew up in Japan. Due to my family circumstances, I experienced wide exclusion during the growing-up years of my life. When I was about 7 years old, my father made a harsh and unkind comment about Korean people who lived on the other side of town. That was the first time I was made aware of other kinds of people, and I felt quite puzzled and uneasy to hear such words.

Around the same time, we read Uncle Tom's Cabin as a part of our schoolwork, and learned about slavery and racial division in the United States for the first time.   Later, with God's pure grace, I entered a school established by Bishop Channing Moore Williams in Tokyo, Japan. I was baptized and confirmed at the school and became an only Christian in my family.

When I was a young adult, a colleague introduced me to Martin Luther King, Jr.'s book Letter from Birmingham Jail . It touched me deeply, and my young and naïve energy was focused on the justice of inclusion. This spirit took hold of me and I thought, “I must do something!”

In 1971, I married an African-American Air Force man who I met while I was working as an interpreter on a U.S. Air Force Base in Tokyo. We came to the United States with our first child. At first, my mother-in-law, who was from the U.S. South, did not know what to think of us. Those days, in several family conversations I heard derogatory “J” names, and it was my turn to not to know what to think.

We settled into a suburban house and realized we were the first non-whites to move into the neighborhood. We lived there for almost 30 years, but we rarely interacted with the neighbors. After our third child was born, I started a long search of church homes (Quakers, Methodists, Lutherans), and I decided to visit an Episcopal Church close to home.

Although I met with a couple of people who helped me orient myself through my first years in the Episcopal Church, it was a very interesting experience. From early on I sensed an intense undercurrent of uneasiness around me as a person of color. At the children's school functions I would see some church members, but I got the clear impression that they did not want let others know that they even knew us.

I went to the parish priest to share my unbearable and uncomfortable experience with the church members. He asked, “Would you like to go to another church?” I am sure he meant well, but I interpreted that comment as, “This is how we treat people who do not look like us and we are not about to change, so it maybe better for you to go elsewhere.”

I went to the parish priest to share my unbearable and uncomfortable experience with the church members. He asked, “Would you like to go to another church?” I am sure he meant well, but I interpreted that comment as, “This is how we treat people who do not look like us and we are not about to change, so it maybe better for you to go elsewhere.” In spite of that episode, I became a member of the parish.

I stayed there for 17 years, then moved to another church, where I was encouraged and empowered to work in the wider church by getting involved in anti-racism and other social justice ministries and committees.

I have just returned from 17-day pilgrimage to Russia. I visited the first children's hospice in Russia, which my church, St. Mark's Episcopal Cathedral in Seattle, helped to establish in St. Petersburg. [The hospice was founded with the significant support of the Church Council of Greater Seattle; our congregation's Russian Parish Partnership is a part of this Church Council's St. Petersburg Sister Church program.] I was particularly emotional during our stay in Moscow since it was where my grandfather was born and my mother was educated. After seeing St. Basil's, the symbol of Russia, with my own eyes, I was quite satisfied that I had finally felt the missing link in my family roots.

During the visit to many Russian churches and people, we regularly heard the term “Communist era,” and it reminded me how fearful and dreadful I had felt of the “Iron Curtain.” I am thankful that we no longer have that thick divider separating the people of Russia and Western world, creating opportunities for more inclusion.

Today in my personal life I seldom suffer from harsh experiences as an Asian woman, but we still read of racial conflicts in the daily papers in our city and community.

A few years ago I served on a task force to encourage and raise up leadership of people of color in our diocese. We presented a draft of this report prior to our diocesan convention to the chair of the committee. In the report, we pointed out that there were no persons of color working in diocesan office. I received the following reply: “We have a Chinese bookkeeper and Korean printing man.”

This experience told me that we still need to work on institutional racism in our church. I am now hopeful, however, in our diocese, since in the last couple of years an Anti-Racism training process has gotten well underway, and many diocesan committees and parishes are taking part in this program. So our task is to determine what's next after the training.

The new issues of inclusion have added a vast ground of complexity in recent years. Our work to fight for inclusion is becoming even more complex, but it is well worth the challenge.

Hisako Miyazaki Beasley is a member of the Episcopal Asiamerica Ministry Advocate network. She serves on the Episcopal Diocese of Olympia's Commission for the Church in the World. Hisako may be reached by email at hisakomb@aol.com .