“A Really Bad Day”: Atlanta, One Year Later

How do we, as Christians, respond to rising Asian hate?


On March 16, 2021, a 21-year-old male named Robert Aaron Long went to Young’s Asian Massage in Cherokee County, Georgia, and shot five people, killing four of them. Afterwards, he drove approximately 30 miles to Gold Massage Spa in Atlanta and shot three women to death. He then walked across the street to Aromatherapy Spa and fired more shots, killing yet another woman.

Eight people were murdered by Long on that Tuesday evening.

Soon Chung Park, age 74.

Hyun Jung Grant, age 51.

Suncha Kim, age 69.

Yong Yue, age 63.

Delaina Ashley Yaun, age 33.

Paul Andre Michels, age 54.

Xiaojie Tan, age 49.

Daoyou Feng, age 44.

Six of the victims were Asian women, but Long denied to investigators that the murders were racially motivated. Then, at a press conference the day after Long’s arrest, Cherokee Police spokesman Captain Jay Baker reported that Long, who was known as an active member of Crabapple Baptist Church, was battling a sex addiction and sought “to take out that temptation.” Baker then concluded, “Yesterday was a really bad day for him, and this is what he did.”

Members of the Asian American community were livid.

The language and tone employed by Baker not only humanized the killer while dehumanizing his victims, they framed the murders as an act of religious devotion.

Furthermore, Long’s “sex addiction” defense was widely met with skepticism among the Asian community: of the six Asian women who were killed, their average age was 58, with the oldest being 74. They were working at spas, which are part of Asian culture and are often frequented by families, not by sex addicts, in an Asian context.

The Asian American community had been bracing for such an act of violence after facing an increasing number of hate incidents over the previous year, in the wake of the COVID-19 outbreak. In March 2020, our President repeatedly referred to COVID as “China Virus,” which this study showed triggered an increase in anti-Asian sentiment on Twitter. Media figures, including a popular Christian author, not only defended use of the term but mocked concerns about it, calling COVID-19 the “Kung Flu Panda-demic” online and at Christian rallies.

And in the year since the Atlanta shootings, we have seen a steady stream of reports of Asians—mostly women and the elderly—being physically assaulted or even killed by random strangers.

Michelle Go. Killed when she was pushed in front of a New York City subway train.

Christina Yuna Lee. Murdered in her own apartment after coming home one night.

And this 67-year old woman. Punched in the head 125 times and stomped on seven times while trying to go home. It’s a miracle she wasn’t killed.

When it comes to Asian hate, it often feels like we are on our own, with little sympathy or support, even within the church. When Asian Christians voiced anxieties about the growing number of racially motivated attacks, some were ridiculed as “snowflakes” or dismissed by members of their own churches.

Disappointing, yes, but hardly surprising.

A 2020 study concluded that Christian nationalism was the strongest predictor of racist and xenophobic views of COVID-19, as well as of racist and xenophobic views in general. Appeals for leaders to stop calling COVID-19 “China virus” were ignored and met with derision, most notably among supporters of Trump, who holds widespread support among American evangelicals.

If God shows no partiality but “accepts from every nation the one who fears him” (Acts 10:34–35), neither should human beings show favoritism to, exclude, or harm anyone based on racial or national origin.

So how are we, as people of faith, to respond to hate?

The Empowerment Approach

In Empowerment Ethics for a Liberated People (Fortress Press, 1995), Howard University School of Divinity professor Cheryl J. Sanders writes that a Christlike ethic of justice means applying the same set of standards, or at least “the same moral norms and judgments,” to all people, regardless of race.

Sanders’ empowerment ethic draws upon Jesus’ Golden Rule: “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets” (Matt 7:12 NIV). However, citing the approach of abolitionist David Walker, Sanders reinterprets this as, “Don’t take the abuse from others that you would not expect them to take from you.”

Sanders holds that oppressed groups should work towards their own liberation and stop insisting that it is “someone else’s obligation,” recognizing the threat of locating the problem in others and advocating for social change by focusing on a community’s inward life.

Liberation is not received passively, argues Sanders. Though God is Deliverer, deliverance engages the will of those being liberated. For example, when two blind men cried out to Jesus outside of Jericho, Jesus asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” before he healed them (Matt 20:29–34). Similarly, at the pool of Bethesda, Jesus asked a disabled man, “Do you want to get well?” and when that man lamented about his condition, “Jesus said to him, ‘Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.’ At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked” (John 5:1–9).

And, Sanders asserts, liberation should be sought not only for oneself, but for others. Members of the body of Christ are called to “treat with special honor” the weaker parts of the body, “giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it” (1 Cor 12:22–24).

Like the paralyzed man whose friends carried him on a mat and lowered him through the roof (Luke 5: 18–20; Mark 2:1–5), those who cannot gain freedom on their own need not just the faith of their friends, but the faithful actions of others to advocate for them.

This means that even if no one else is advocating for us, we should advocate for others as well as for ourselves.

Applying Empowerment Ethics

Using Sanders’ approach, Asian Americans should take the initiative and pursue greater solidarity with each other. Historical animosity between Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and other Asian ethnic groups should be set aside for the sake of increased mutual support.

We could uplift one another by supporting Asian-owned businesses, which have suffered disproportionately during the pandemic, as well as by mentoring and helping more marginalized members of the community such as recent immigrants, the elderly, or those living in poverty.

In addition to racial solidarity, Sanders calls for cooperation with other oppressed groups. Asian Americans might self-reflect and consider the possible causes of longstanding tensions with other minority groups in America, particularly the black community.

In the aftermath of the 1992 L.A. riots, Korean-American business owner Ellis Cha reflected on conflicts between Korean liquor store owners and African American customers, began to attend intercultural events, and decided to participate “politically and in local activities” to foster stronger ties with young people in his community. He now encourages other Asian business owners to do the same.

But the L.A. riots were 30 years ago. Have relations improved since then?

In 2020, a number of Asian American leaders openly expressed solidarity with the black community after George Floyd’s death, and in 2021, black leaders denounced violence against Asian Americans in a show of solidarity after the Atlanta spa killings.

A year later, however, this mutual support appears to have waned.

So do we just give up and stop trying?

The Agape Approach

As with Sanders, the late Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. holds an ethic that recalls the Golden Rule to love your neighbor as you love yourself, but with a greater focus on the neighbor than on the self.

Jesus commands his disciples to love your enemies, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you, turn the other cheek when slapped, and “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6:27–30). This is the agape love of Jesus, who died for us when we were still God’s enemies (Rom 5:8).

And, whereas Sanders’ focus is inward, King’s approach looks “up, in, and out.”

King looks up to the nature and character of God, turns inwardly to examine the oppressed community’s own moral obligations as disciples of Christ, then expresses God’s love, grace, and forgiveness outwardly onto others, including their oppressors. “There will be no permanent solution to the race problem until oppressed men develop the capacity to love their enemies,” asserts King in his sermon, “Loving Your Enemies.”

This love is agape, “an overflowing love which seeks nothing in return… the love of God operating in the human heart.” Our ability to love our enemies is based on our willingness to forgive them. King insists that, like Jesus on the cross, “we must look lovingly at our oppressors and say, ‘Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.’”

Agape is to love the person, even if we hate their evil deeds, because God loved them first.

Loving and forgiving others is in the nature of God, a characteristic of Christ to be emulated by the church.

To forgive is not an option, but an imperative for discipleship. The parable of the unmerciful servant (Matt 18:21–35) presents a vivid, sobering illustration of the gravity with which God views the human obligation to forgive. A Christian’s willingness or refusal to forgive one’s enemies, as commanded by God, is a test of where one’s ultimate loyalty lies.

The ultimate loyalty of any Christian should be to God, who calls his people to abandon allegiance to any earthly systems and concerns for social acceptance, as King once stated. God also calls us to show love to others by forgiving them.

Applying Agape

In order to move forward in relationships with other groups, we should overcome past transgressions by forgiving others, including brothers and sisters within the church who have caused pain with their words or indifference.

Not fair, I know. But neither was it “fair” for Jesus to be crucified for our sins while we were still his enemies.

“We love every man because God loves him,” preached King, evoking 1 John 4:19. The letter of 1 John holds much of King’s theology, with its metaphors of darkness and blindness, which King argues keeps human beings unenlightened and fearful. “Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness” that has blinded them (1 John 2:9–11).

Agape sees the humanity in others, even our “enemies.”

In our effort to have others recognize and affirm our humanity, we must not resort to the dehumanization of others. They might not be “bad” people, but blinded, and King’s method would have us speak into these blind spots in truth, openness, and love.

This means that, to Christians who would rather assert their right to say “China Virus” than to show concern for their Asian brothers and sisters in Christ who may be harmed by such language, Asian American Christians could remind them that the Apostle Paul did not always make use of his rights, for “no one should seek their own good, but the good of others” (1 Cor 9:12; 10:24).

Are We Too Passive?

King assails passivity as complicity with an unjust status quo.

And Asian Americans are often stereotyped as a passive, “model minority,“ which some have argued stems from an attempt at assimilation by a group that has historically faced exclusion based on race:

  • The Page Act of 1875 barred East Asian women from entering the country.
  • The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 suspended Chinese immigration for ten years while declaring Chinese people ineligible for U.S. citizenship.
  • In the 1922 court case of Takao Ozawa, the Supreme Court ruled that he could not be naturalized as a U.S. citizen because Asians are not white; that same year, the Supreme Court upheld laws prohibiting Asians from owning property due to “marked physical characteristics” that disqualified them from assimilation.

Asian Americans have also been scapegoated and persecuted throughout US history:

  • Japanese Americans were incarcerated during World War II because their loyalty was questioned. “A Jap’s a Jap,” declared General John DeWitt in 1943, who alleged that despite their American citizenship, “the racial strains are undiluted.”
  • In 1982, Chinese American Vincent Chin was beaten to death with a baseball bat by Ronald Ebens and Michael Nitz, two white auto workers who blamed the Japanese for their unemployment; despite being convicted of manslaughter, neither killer spent a day in jail. “These aren’t the kind of men you send to jail,” proclaimed Judge Charles Kaufman of Ebens and Nitz.
  • A decade later, Los Angeles’ Koreatown was looted and burned during six days of rioting sparked by the verdict in the case of Rodney King, who was videotaped being beaten by police officers who were acquitted of wrongdoing.

Analyst Vijay Prashad contends that this historical exclusion and discrimination has led Asian Americans to become “socially detached from U.S. life,” thus justifying further withdrawal “from the social and political life of the United States.”

Consequently, Asian Americans are often stereotyped as being inward-focused and passive, unwilling to “rock the boat” by speaking up about incidents of discrimination.

Take a Stand and Speak Up

Many Asian Americans have learned to thrive in this country’s social structures by assimilating, working hard, and keeping a low profile as “the model minority,” but this approach no longer appears tenable in light of the deep divisions rending the country as well as the church.

It’s 2022 and people are getting spat upon, verbally harassed, physically assaulted, and even killed for being Asian.

They are grandmas and grandpas. Wives and sisters. Kids and parents. And nobody seems to give a rip.

If we don’t take a stand, who will?

And being proactive in our own deliverance does not mean denying that God is our true deliverer.

We are called to pray for deliverance while also actively participating in God’s work of deliverance. For example, when Moses led the Israelites to the edge of the Red Sea, God commanded him to stretch out his hand (Exod 14:16), and when Moses obeyed, the waters parted (vv. 21–22).

Was it Moses’ hand or God’s that delivered the Israelites to freedom from bondage in Egypt?

Moses could not have accomplished this without God, and God could have done it without Moses, but God invited Moses to participate in the process by taking action.

“Racial justice, a genuine possibility in our nation and in the world, will come neither by our frail and often misguided efforts nor by God imposing his will on wayward men,” concludes King, “but when enough people open their lives to God and allow him to pour his triumphant, divine energy into their souls.”

So instead of waiting for others to change, we can start with a change in ourselves.

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