Is God a Tiger Dad? Reflections From Shang-Chi

My reflections on Tiger parenting, grace vs. works, and Marvel's Shang-Chi movie

Author’s note: This reflection contains spoilers.

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings is a Marvel hit featuring the superhero Shang-Chi (Simu Liu) and his father Wenwu (Tony Leung). We meet Shang-Chi on the streets of San Francisco, disguised as “Sean” who parks guys for a living. His real identity is revealed on a bus ride when members of the “Ten Rings” show up to steal his jade necklace. As he fights to defend himself, his identity as a trained assassin and the eldest son of Wenwu, the leader of the Ten Rings, is revealed. From there, Shang-Chi is forced to confront his past involving the grief of his murdered mother, the shame of not living up to his father’s expectations, and the guilt of abandoning his younger sister when he ran away from home.

As an Asian-Australian, it was fascinating to see a Marvel superhero wrestling with the same questions as I. Should I subscribe to Eastern collectivism or Western Individualism? Does my life belong to me or my family? Does love need to be earned? Am I worthy of belonging? Should I obey my Tiger Dad, even if I disagree with him?

While Wenwu is introduced as the villain, we’re invited to empathise with his choices and to see his need for redemption. We learn that with the Ten Rings, he became an immortal being. Hijacked by the need for power, he spends a thousand years violently conquering empires and nations, and yet he is left feeling empty and unsatisfied. This is until he is defeated by Ying Li, a powerful but gentle daughter from Ta Lo Village.

While Wenwu fights with closed fists and brute strength, Ying Li manages to win the battle with open palms and fluid movements. Perhaps their combat style is a reflection of their inner-world. While Wenwu is obsessed with dominance and power, Ying Li engages the world with an open-heart that’s filled with love and compassion. She believes that even a villain like Wenwu is capable of change, and in love, gives him a chance to redeem himself. In doing so, she not only wins the fight, but also his heart, as he gives up the Ten Rings to become a loving husband and doting father.

In the words of Thomas Chalmers, Wenwu experienced “the expulsive power of a greater affection”. The villain’s love for power completely pales when he meet his wife, a greater affection. But as her mortal existence was merely temporary, the change didn’t last. When she was murdered, Wenwu was so grieved that he reverted back to his hard-hearted ways. He forces Shang-Chi into martial arts training so that he can become an assassin and help seek revenge for his mother, for “a blood debt has to be paid by blood”.

It is at this point in the movie that Wenwu’s relationship with Shang-Chi completely changes. Without his wife holding the family together with her warmth and wisdom, Wenwu disintegrates into an overbearing Tiger Dad. He seeks solace in the Ten Rings and abuses his power to control his only son, thrusting Shang-Chi into a violent world where performance precedes acceptance and obedience is demanded. Perhaps Shang-Chi complied in the hopes that his Tiger Dad would revert to being the affectionate father that he once was, but this never happens. Instead, the little boy is left to mourn his mother with bloodied knuckles and a broken spirit.

Wenwu oversees Shang-Chi’s training

With his freedom stifled in a dysfunctional home, Shang-Chi makes the bold decision to rebel from his cage. When he turns 14, he flees to San Francisco to escape from his Tiger Dad’s rule. Obeying his father enabled Shang to become a powerful assassin. Tragically, reaching this goal came at the cost of a loving relationship between father and son.

Watching this film, I was able to filter the storyline from my own experiences with growing up with a Tiger Dad. I felt the weight of impossible expectations and the grief of having to earn a father’s love. I saw my identity crisis in the West and a longing for freedom and acceptance. I heard the unspoken rules of filial piety and the dismissiveness of a culture where daughters are invisible. I saw my striving and failure, rebellion and shame.

Born in the Year of the Dragon, my existence was meant to represent power and prosperity. Instead, I grew up feeling small and invisible, constantly striving for acceptance and approval. On the outside, I looked like the kid who was obsessed with winning trophies, when in reality, my broken and bloodied spirit was simply desperate for a hug. For years, my trophy cabinet was full and yet my heart felt hopelessly empty. One day, it dawned on me that no amount of striving would ever fully appease my Tiger Dad’s demands, and so I rebelled. Like Shang, I wanted to “prove my strength” not with filial piety, but by living for Me alone.

---

I once believed that Christians were called to obey a needy and overbearing Tiger Dad. Having spent my life running away from my own, I was not keen on joining another institution built on rules and impossible expectations. When I opened the Bible, I expected to be crushed by shame and legalism, instead, I met a greater affection—a perfect Father who I wanted to love and obey.

My Heavenly Father is both sovereign and holy, meaning He will never abuse His power nor sin against me (2 Corinth 5:21). He is self-sufficient, meaning He is not bound by needs or vulnerabilities that may threaten His capacity to care for me (Ps 50:7-12). He is a trustworthy Father whose instructions are life-giving, for He would never force me to submit to a harmful command (Ps 1:1-3). He is an eternal and ever-present Father who will never abandon His children—even death cannot separate us from His love (Rom 8:38-39). He is a Father who is love and he demonstrates it perfectly in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Rom 5:8). Instead of demanding me to pay for my own debt, He pays it for me by the blood of His Son (Rom 8:1). It is by grace that I belong.

Perhaps this sounds too good to be true. It has taken me many years to truly believe that I am loved in spite of my performance and worthy apart from works. As my worldview has been renewed by the gospel of grace, I have learned to trust that God is not a Tiger Dad and because my acceptance is not dependent on my performance, joyful obedience is actually possible. On days when I am tempted to earn God’s affection, I remind myself that He doesn’t need my striving for I am saved by grace through faith.

The good news of the gospel is this: With or without trophies, I belong to a Heavenly Father who by grace welcomes me home.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast.” – Ephesians 2:8-9

---

God’s grace also transformed my Tiger Dad’s life! You can read our story “Closing the Cultural Gap” here.