Movement Magazine: Issue 162

Identity
inChrist?
Faith has played a pivotal role in Archuna Ananthamohan’s life, medical interests and
activism. His poetry and writing explore faith, justice and life itself. Here he explores his
identity as a Hindu Christian, and what it means to find an identity in Christ.
inChrist?
When I was six years old, I would majestically illustrate the
Ramayana with the joyful aid of my Crayola crayons and a
fiercely boundless sense of imagination. I had attended a
Church of England primary school, where the vast majority
of pupils were ethnic minorities. Most did not come from a
Christian family. It was a multi-faith school and, for me, it was
a multi-faith family. Every now and then, a lady called Elise
would visit our school to give assemblies. She was part of
the local parish church and would share wonderful stories
about Jesus, emphasising his teachings of compassion and
his parables of love. My heart would stir.
Every time I heard about Jesus’ life and teachings, I would
experience an intense form of joy that would sing from the
very depths of my soul. The choral hymns on the television
and radio would fill me with awe. The parables would feed
me with questions. And, above all else, the sight of Christians
helping and caring for the community would sustain my
pursuit of Christ.
Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me’ (Matthew
19:14, NIV). I was that little child. And in the end, it was
neither the promise of a literal Heaven nor the threat of a
literal Hell that would draw this little child to Jesus. This little
child, whose parents were laid-back Hindus, did not come to
Jesus through a desperately defined exercise of the mind.
He did not come to Jesus through spoon-fed proof-texts
or questionable apologetics. He had come to Jesus through
Love. It was this divine Love, the little boy had realised, that
had been the source of every loving work and every faithful
deed. And it was this Love that would
change this little boy forever.
Sadly, not everybody would share
the same enthusiasm about my faith
journey as I had done. My family
would soon adjust to my interest and
pursuit of Christ. However, most of
my difficulties would in fact arise at
secondary school. Throughout my
time at secondary school, people
would judge me for taking an interest
in Christianity. Some people had felt
that my decision to become Christian
was somehow an endorsement of the
grave historic atrocities that had been
committed by the imperial ‘Christian’
religion. Others felt that my interest
in Christianity may have come out of
a desperate desire to be white. Both
judgments were poisonously offensive
and untrue.
Why must my ethnic and cultural
identity be irreconcilable with a
Christian identity? I found this
particularly perplexing given that
Christianity, the world’s largest religion,
had followers from all over the globe.
Furthermore, a significant number of
Tamils had always been Christians.
It felt like their contributions to the
Tamil struggle against the Sinhalesesupremacist
Sri Lankan state had
offensively been erased.
By contrast, my earliest experiences
of British conservative evangelicalism
felt very inclusive in terms of race. The
Gospel, after all, was for everyone.
Evangelistic organisations such as
South Asian Concern recognise how
we can still engage with our South
Asian heritage and pursue a Christian
faith. Indeed, I am still discovering
more expressions of the Christian faith
found in South Asian and Tamil culture;
Clement Vedanayagam, for instance,
has become renowned for using Indian
classical music as a medium to convey
his Christian faith. The marvellous
Twitter account ‘Indo-Christian culture’
has also affirmed the reconciliation of
these identities.
Unfortunately, South Asian Concern
and other evangelistic settings’
approach to faith would soon lead
to another crisis of identity. When
I was about seventeen years old, I
had found other Christian friends at
school. Given how some of my other
classmates had reacted badly towards
my interest in Jesus, a space that was
welcoming towards Christians had felt
like a breath of fresh air. My Christian
friends had invited me to attend one of
their Christian holiday camps. During
the camp’s Bible study, I asked, ‘What
about people from other faiths? Can
they still experience God?’
Predictably, the young lad running the
session quoted John 14:6: “I am the
Way, and the truth, and the life. No one
comes to the Father except through
me.” In hindsight, I should have asked
him whether he knew and understood
other interpretations of this verse. Given
the miserable conformity of that camp,
I don’t think he would have. I myself
have since come to discover more
liberating interpretations. However, at
the time, their reading of this verse
invalidated the experiences of God
I’d had prior to becoming a Christian.
I started to look down on my parents’
Hinduism, deeming them to be ‘lost’.
And I felt that, compared to the white,
upper-middle class Bible camp that I
had attended, I was inferior. I started
to think that my Hindu spirituality was
demonic. I was gaslit, and it poisoned
the way I experienced my faith.
Today, I consider myself both a Hindu
and a Christian. Both traditions serve
one another and enrich my faith. In the
past, I was told that the only identity
we should have is an ‘identity in Christ’.
However, the people who would tell me
this came from cis, white, privileged
societies. ‘Identity in Christ’ had
become a coded way to dismiss ‘Black
Lives Matter’, validate transphobia, and
justify deeply harmful rhetoric about
‘same-sex attraction’. It has resulted in
the perpetuation of colonialism, which
underscored the Christian exclusivism
that I had experienced.
And yet, throughout Scripture, we see
how Jesus would celebrate the most
marginalised identities and recognise
their sanctity. Finding my ‘identity in
Christ’ has been the realisation that
I was made in Love. For marginalised
people, this has meant to reject the
ways of the world and the systems
of domination that oppress us and
desecrate our bodies. And as we shed
our hierarchical illusions and selves,
we instead open up our hearts and
minds to the reality that we are all One
with each other. This, in my view, is
what happens when you find your true
identity in Christ.
Archuna Ananthamohan is a poet,
writer and filmmaker. He is the
founder of ItMatters, a global network
of young creatives who use the Arts to
explore mental health.
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