Author's note: This is a reflection on an era. The vigor of our youth is fading into the past, and as we enter our middle age, we inevitably find ourselves looking back and forth, reflecting on what has been. This article is dedicated to that group of Christians in Beijing during the first decade of the 21st century. On many mornings, we hurried to church in the sunshine. On many cold evenings, we took the bus home after lively Bible study. Days like these left us with many beautiful memories. Yet an inadequate theological framework, coupled with the grand slogans proclaimed by church leaders, also left behind a fragmented and disordered faith. The past is set. It is time for reflection.
Around the time of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, I was pursuing a Ph.D. in religious studies at one of Beijing's leading universities, specializing in Christian social ethics. I was young then, full of energy, constantly traveling, observing, and learning. Being both a Christian and a researcher gave me many unique opportunities. On various occasions, I met many of the most influential figures in the Chinese church at the time. They were from Beijing, Central China, the Northeast, and South China. I saw firsthand the charisma and spiritual passion of these remarkable individuals, qualities that remain unforgettable to this day. I had previously known some of these prominent leaders only through Western media; thus, meeting them in person impressed me profoundly. Being young and merely a third-party researcher, I naturally had little opportunity to challenge or question what they said. Instead, I was quiet, listened attentively, and took careful notes. In those days, I was not yet accustomed to using a laptop for note-taking, nor was it convenient to make audio recordings, so everything was written by hand. Those notebooks may still be tucked away somewhere in my study. Twenty years have passed. As I open the floodgates of memory, I cannot help but miss the passion I had in those years. Yet the people who once stood at the center of those events are on their own paths.
Some of them have retired and are now enjoying their later years, spending time with their grandchildren. Quite a number of them have moved overseas—perhaps making a graceful exit under the title of overseas missionaries, or perhaps simply boarding a plane bound for the United States. Of course, not a few ended up behind bars.
Back then, we were filled with passion and confidence. China's booming economy, the Olympics, and the increasing integration with the international community all became part of the grand story that shaped people's understanding of their faith. Below are some of the slogans from those days that remain vivid in my memory:
1. "By 2030, China should send out 20,000 overseas missionaries. If the number of Chinese Christians reaches 100 million by 2023, then for every 5,000 believers supporting one missionary, we would have 20,000 missionaries serving around the world. To achieve this goal, we must establish research institutions, develop a theological system, and provide missionary training."
2. "The church must be guided by the vision of the 'Three Transformations.' Churches should purchase their own church buildings. In the future, Christianity will become the most important spiritual resource for China's social transformation."
3. "My church now has 50,000 members. For the sake of the gospel, I will press forward courageously. I shall not be afraid even at gunpoint."
4. "Although the American church is wealthy, its faith is already in decline. The Korean church is also facing serious crises. The final baton of carrying the gospel back to Jerusalem has now been placed into the hands of the Chinese people."
5. "Do not blindly admire the American model of the separation of church and state. That model has limited the influence of religion. Many of America's social problems today are the result of this system. A more desirable model for modern society is one in which biblical values provide moral leadership for society."
Had I not witnessed and heard these things with my own eyes and ears, I would hardly have believed them myself. Indeed, even a novelist might hesitate to write such scenes. Looking back, I am grateful for the diligence of my younger self, who managed to preserve so many remarkable moments in those handwritten notes.
Many years have passed. I was that naïve doctoral student in those days, and now I am middle-aged. Over the past two decades, I too have experienced many twists and turns. After completing my doctorate, I began teaching at a university. Later, I left the academic establishment and went to North America to study theology. After many changes in my life, I became an independent scholar, making a living through God's providence, so to speak. Through all these ups and downs, my research interests have shifted from Christian social ethics to the history of American Christianity, and then to Chinese indigenous theology and the study of Christianity in China. The youthful passion of those earlier years has gradually faded, replaced by more sober and rational analysis. I write these words today in remembrance of that extraordinary season of youth when we lived with such burning conviction.
(With just over three years remaining until 2030...)
Over the coming months, I plan to write a series of articles examining the transformation of China's urban churches over the past twenty years, analyzing the interaction between theology and social history.
The series will consist of the following parts:
The first article will examine the most prominent urban megachurches of that era and ask why so many of them are now closing down. Assuming that the broader political and social environment has remained largely constant, what kinds of theology and ecclesial structures led those once-vibrant, middle-class urban congregations to face today's internal crises? What is the underlying logic behind the collision between Christian ideals and social reality?
The second article will focus on what has arguably been the single most significant keyword in Chinese Christianity over the past two decades: "Reformed Theology." For some, the term has generated tremendous enthusiasm; for others, it has been regarded as dangerous or toxic. This article will analyze the theological and socio-historical background behind the rise of contemporary Chinese fundamentalist Reformed theology (often colloquially referred to as "extreme Reformed theology"). Since this movement has adopted many conceptual frameworks from American Cold War Christianity, the discussion will also devote considerable attention to the historical development of conservative American evangelical theology.
The third article will explore what might be called a "funhouse mirror" phenomenon: how the Western world, particularly conservative American Christianity, viewed Chinese Christianity through a romanticized Orientalist lens and, around 2010, helped construct an epic miraculous prediction that by around 2030 China would have 250 million Christians and become the world's largest Christian nation. Looking back, this prediction did more than create unrealistic expectations. It contributed to a crisis of self-understanding among some urban Chinese churches and, within the broader context of the increasingly intense strategic competition between China and the United States over the past decade, left these churches in an even more difficult domestic position. Behind this religious prediction lay both external and internal causes. Externally, it reflected serious misperceptions within conservative American evangelicalism, compounded by the distortions produced by the highly commercialized operation of American Christianity. Internally, its enthusiastic reception within China's urban churches reflected not only the profound disconnect between fundamentalist theology and social reality but also the efforts of church elites who are socially marginal yet convinced of their sacred calling to construct a meaningful sense of identity and purpose.
The fourth and final article will turn toward the question of constructing a genuinely Chinese indigenous theology. The first three articles necessarily deal with rather weighty issues. In the concluding article, I hope to explain why Chinese Christianity must rethink its relationship with Western theology and free itself from the influence of the political right within conservative American evangelical theology. In my view, the future of Christianity in China depends on moving beyond the simplified missionary paradigms inherited from the modern era. Instead, it should encourage a genuine dialogue between Chinese culture and the universal claims of Christianity, so that both its understanding of faith and its public witness become deeply rooted in the soil of China itself. These ideas have been taking shape over several years. During the COVID-19 pandemic, especially throughout the long Michigan winters, a group of friends frequently gathered at my home to engage in serious and often passionate debates about these issues. While enjoying the Sichuan-style hotpot prepared by my wife, many of these ideas gradually began to crystallize. I also spent years studying historical sources in the quiet cubicles of the Calvin University Library, patiently tracing historical threads little by little. Many nights I remained immersed in books until very late. Only after my children had fallen asleep would I quietly tiptoe into bed.
Some friends have suggested that I should write these articles in English and publish them in international theological journals, contributing to contemporary theological discussions from the perspective of the non-Western world. Yet, as someone who is completely free from the pressure of academic performance metrics or publication requirements, the conventional academic path no longer satisfies my rather unconventional intellectual appetite. At this stage, perhaps a WeChat public account is a more suitable medium for both my present circumstances and the realities of today's readers. To discuss these issues in the current climate requires a certain degree of intellectual courage, what some might jokingly call "a one-track mind." It also demands exceptional skill, discernment, and restraint in how one expresses such ideas.
Then again, walking a tightrope has always been one of my favorite pursuits.
- Translated by Charlie Li
Originally from the Evangelical Vision
CCD reprinted and translated with permission
