Abstract
Relationships between American mission organizations and Chinese house church pastors are currently facing increasing difficulty and strain. To date, the dominant metaphor for how these two members of Christ’s body have related has been partnership. Rising contextual and cultural pressures render partnership inadequate to withstand what familial bonds are more suited to endure. This article first considers the overall historical and cultural context of the relationship between western missionaries and unregistered Chinese churches. Following this is an explanation of two recurring factors which place ongoing strain on their relationship: rising nationalism and government persecution of Christians. Next, new factors which compound existing relational stressors are explored: shifting economic policies and theological brain drain. Finally, initial recommendations are put forth as to how these two groups might move forward living together as family.
Keywords
Introduction
Relationships between American mission organizations and Chinese house church pastors are currently facing increasing difficulty and strain. To date, the dominant metaphor for how these two members of Christ’s body have related has been partnership. Rising contextual and cultural pressures render partnership inadequate to withstand what familial bonds are more suited to endure.
This article first considers the overall historical and cultural context of the relationship between western missionaries and unregistered Chinese churches. Following this is an explanation of two recurring factors which place ongoing strain on their relationship: rising nationalism and government persecution of Christians. Next, new factors which compound the existing relational stressors are explored: shifting economic policies and theological brain drain. Finally, initial recommendations are put forth as to how these two groups might move forward living together as family.
In the past, western missiologists and missionaries in practice have at different eras progressed from an engagement marked by colonialism and unidirectional flow, to one now defined predominately as partnership and hopefully characterized by more multidirectional exchanges. This shift toward mutually held goals and shared resources began as early as 1928, though it was not fully articulated until 1947. Later, in 1975 the World Council of Churches formed the Council for World Mission which was instituted with “the concept of partnership in mission as its structural, relational, and organizational principal” (VanderWater, 2008: 305–306).
By the turn of the twenty-first century western and majority world missiologists began to critique the western notion of partnership and its fruit on the field. While differing critiques certainly exist (Anderson, 2014; Fanning, 2009; George, 2004; Lee, 2002; Pablo and Pérez, 2013), each seeks to correct or work within the existing partnership paradigm. While the shift from paternalism and colonialism in missions to partnership was an improvement, for some missiologists the progress made was still lacking. One First Nations Christian in Canada confessed, “When we hear the word partnership, what comes to our minds is that this is another way for the White man to control us” (Lederleitner and Elmer, 2010: 11). Even when partnership is practiced in a healthy manner, reducing the relationship between Christians to mere sharing of resources fails short of being the body of Christ.
Biblically one might draw comparisons between Old Testament covenants and partnership, but to limit the scope of God’s relationship with Israel to the latter would be overly simplistic (Horton, 2009: 10). In the New Testament, a biblical foundation for partnership is more easily found to some degree in Paul’s letters (Murre-Van Den Berg, 2002: 587). However, even then Paul’s language with churches appears to go much deeper than mere partnership. He earnestly speaks of struggling alongside them, being absent in body but present in spirit (Colossians 2:1–7). He speaks of holding them in his heart while in prison (Philippians 1:7–8). Most striking of all, he describes the church not as a network of partnerships but as one body unified under Christ and partaking in His divine nature (1 Corinthians 12).
In present-day China, relationships between different local churches and among Christians appears to include aspects of partnership but need not be limited to it. Tennent (2010) has advocated for a more fundamental shift in how the church engages in the Great Commission, one that moves beyond partnership to relationships characterized by belonging (2010: 373–376). Partnership itself is not seen in a negative light for many Chinese. In fact, their conception of it incidentally is closely intertwined with family and belonging language.
Often Chinese business partners become de facto family members because of the amount of time shared and the highly interconnected nature of their relationships. A business partnership with a stranger, to merely share resources or obtain a mutually held goal, would be unthinkable (Zhang and Baker, 2008: 104–105). Employers can tend to “treat [their] company, regardless of whether the staff are family or non-family, like a big family” (Wah, 2009: 119).
Though the overlap of partnership and belonging language is at first glance encouraging when considering Tennent’s critique of contemporary missions efforts, the practical outworking of how Chinese house churches actually belong together with western co-laborers remains complex. Complexity frequently arises when Chinese Christians identify as family first, then partners, while the starting point for western Christians is partnership, and rarely goes as far as familial bonds. Scholars have rightly advocated for serving alongside one another as family in the past (Wan, 2010; Wu, 2011), yet a consideration of historically recurring and newly developing context-specific barriers has yet to be applied to the seemingly different ways these two groups relate.
Thus, an exploration of the missional shift from partnership to belonging within the Chinese context is warranted. This article seeks to briefly survey historical and current barriers which hinder belonging relationships between American missionaries and Chinese house church pastors, along with putting forth a distinctly Chinese taxonomy to describe the relational shift Tennent encourages us to embrace. While partnership for a majority of Chinese Christians may not have the same colonialistic overtones as it does with First Nations Christians in Canada, our eastern brothers and sisters might choose to articulate our belonging with still different language than Tennent sets forth.
Historical and cultural barriers to family relationship
Long before the relatively recent rise of the Communist Party, all things foreign had been held with deep suspicion in China. While Nestorian Christians arrived as economic traders much earlier (Jenkins, 2009: 64; Moffett, 2005: 176, 257), Alopen arrived as the first official missionary to China in 635 AD. From Alopen on, Nestorian missionaries primarily functioned as an academic class existing in close proximity to the emperor in part to secure their own place and to legitimize the dynasty’s political prowess (Baum and Winkler, 2010: 49; Latourette and Winter, 1953: 234). At different times throughout their centuries of labor among China’s elites, the Nestorians were oppressed or expelled when nationalistic sentiment rose (Barat, 2002: 185; Moffett, 1998: 304, 314).
Catholic missions later followed and though intentionally distanced from economic trade, the Jesuits were to a large degree forced to assume the role of scientific experts serving the imperial court to maintain their position in the middle kingdom (Moffett, 2005: 107–108). The Rites Controversy which followed fueled an already increasing national zeal and confirmed the missionaries as foreign and a threat (Moffett, 2005: 120, 127, 129). They were subsequently persecuted and expelled much like those who had gone before them.
Though different individuals from Nestorian and Catholic missions were greatly endeared to their hosts in China, the movements as a whole seemed to be relegated to the realm of functional necessity. From Adam the Nestorian librarian and translator to Matteo Ricci’s superior time-keeping and map technology (Baum and Winkler, 2010: 48–49; Moffett, 2005: 110), their presence served a purpose. When that purpose ceased to be necessary, the partnership into which they contributed ceased to exist.
A major factor which might set the following wave of Protestant missions to China apart from the previous two would be a desire to identify with, reach, and belong with the common masses. A common phrase heard in Chinese is 老百姓 (lǎobǎixìng), which literally means “old hundred surnames” and refers to common people with little or no power. While few would question the sacrifice of Nestorian or Catholic missionaries, it was the Protestant missionaries who seemed to have sacrificed in ways that touched the 老百姓 or the common people. The life and ministry style of men like Hudson Taylor and women like Gladys Aylward struck a chord with masses of Chinese people struggling to survive.
Admittedly, some contemporary Chinese Christians have sought to distance the church from previous foreign influences in the name of nationalism (Feng, 2010: 53–55; Leung, 2011: 29). Others openly celebrate the recurring waves of missionaries as an essential part of their heritage (Yu, 2011: 235–236). I have heard one Chinese pastor speak of the western Hudson Taylor and Chinese John Sung in the same breath (personal communication, April 24, 2015). Mary Wang, a member of Watchman Nee’s church during his imprisonment and who later was forced to flee to Hong Kong herself, cites participating in the call of Hudson Taylor to suffer for China as “the wealth of the church” (Wang, 1976: 69–74).
How was the Protestant effort able to capture the hearts of the Chinese? Could it be that a willingness to send women “without escort” into inland China spoke volumes to the people? Or possibly the often overlooked fact that Taylor’s China Inland Mission was the first organization to allow intermarrying of missionaries and Chinese nationals among its staff (Moffett, 2005: 467)? This posture was nothing short of radical in a day and age where many would have found equal partnership with nationals in and of itself untenable.
Previous missionary waves differed greatly from the Protestants in this respect and after the fall of the Tang Dynasty in 907, the next Christian visitors could find “no Christians in that land” (Latourette and Winter, 1953: 196, 234). Later in 1368 the Ming Dynasty would expel the Jesuits as foreigners (Moffett, 1998: 472). Clearly, up until this point in history, in Philip Jenkins’s words the faith appeared to have “failed to reach the hearts of the true natives” (2009: 230).
Though other factors were certainly in place, by the mid-twentieth century the third wave of missions to China unquestionably accomplished what the previous two could not. Previous waves had failed to produce a movement of Chinese Christianity which could withstand the tumult of dynastic change. While works like David Aikman’s (2006) Jesus in Beijing have brought the present-day underground house church movement topside for western readers, well before the Cultural Revolution of 1966 and the expulsion of all foreign missionaries, Chinese Christianity was vibrant and thriving.
Authors who write from within the hegemony of the government sanctioned Three-Self Patriotic Movement (TSPM) refute claims that indigenous Christianity existed before the Cultural Revolution, insisting it became Chinese only after coming under official regulations (Feng, 2010: 55). Another commonly held view is that the sudden departure of Christian missionaries forced Chinese Christians to own and lead their churches for the first time (Poon, 2010: 22). In contrast to both, Koesel (2013) notes that an indigenous house church movement was already in place and actively engaged in evangelistic activity in every Chinese province well before the widespread persecution of the Communist Party began (2013: 576).
Missionaries who were in country at this time alongside Chinese Christian leaders quickly began to advocate for Venn and Anderson’s three-self formula in 1928 decades before the newly formed Chinese government and the TSPM would co-opt the terminology for their own political use (Lyall, 2006: 23). Though authors have critiqued Venn and Anderson’s corrective work to the predominantly paternalistic missiological practice of their day (Reese, 2007), a point worth noting is that the push for three-self style indigenization arose from a desire to show the church as distinctly Chinese (Yao, 2011: 30). This was not a philosophical shift from partnership to indigenization, but rather a necessity born out of pastoral concern in light of the persecution to come.
Rather than looking forward to “working themselves out of a job,” Phyllis Thompson’s China: The Reluctant Exodus recounts with detail the heartache missionaries felt as they left behind not just their work but more importantly their brothers and sisters in Christ (Thompson, 2012). Their family was being torn apart. To say men and women like Hudson Taylor, Lottie Moon, Robert Morrison, Gladys Aylward, and the Cambridge Seven partnered with China would be an understatement. Today Chinese church leaders continue to refer to them as fathers of their faith (personal communication, April 24, 2015).
While we in the West frequently refer to the Chinese church as the house church movement or underground churches, Chinese Christians refer to their own gatherings as 家庭教会 (jiātíng jiàohuì), which literally translates as family church (Wu, 2011: 15). “Filial piety permeates and embraces all virtues” within Chinese identity (Wah, 2009: 43). Rooted in Confucian teachings it has become the “foremost of all virtues” (Wu, 2013: 73).
Within Chinese culture, filial piety “pushes every individual” into forming familial relationships with government officials, with co-workers, with their teachers, and within house churches (Wu, 2011: 3). The resulting influence of filial piety is relational connections which are forged by mutual dependence, reciprocity, and loyalty. In a very real sense, belonging to a underground church means being a member of that family church.
While western agencies may currently find themselves moving beyond partnership, the starting point for Chinese Christians is family and loyalty to it. As they look to their past, they view Christian missionaries as family members. As they look to the future, the offer of equal partnership or even a sincere desire on the part of western agencies for Chinese to take up leadership positions will most likely fall short of their hearts’ desire. When Tennent uses the word “belonging” (Tennent, 2010: 372–376), it is likely that our Chinese brothers and sisters would employ the concept of “family” with all the values and relationships that it encompasses.
If westerners are to serve long-term alongside Chinese Christians, existing together as family first and partners second must be a priority. History shows that family can endure what partnership cannot. Noting context-specific barriers to this will be helpful as western missionaries cease to try and work themselves out of a job and start becoming family.
Recurring barrier of rising nationalism
Unfortunately, some of the same dynamics which encouraged missionaries and Chinese Christians to originally push for three-self indigenization are now once again on the rise in China. The tide of nationalism is again rising, evidenced through China’s response to international arbitration on their far reaching territorial claims in the South China Sea (Yu, 2014), as well as the official stance of “national rejuvenation” accomplished through the Chinese dream (Wang, 2013: 1), and their increasing direct involvement in internal Hong Kong legal matters (Pepper, 2007).
The most recent help the Communist Party has received in confirming the narrative of the Chinese dream has come from the latest American election. Open controversies, name-calling, and Hollywood-style characters appear to the Chinese as chaotic whereas their government offers a stable refuge. One state-owned news outlet put it clearly, “The race to the bottom will make people rethink the value of democracy” (Gracie, 2016).
If in previous eras cultural imperialism from the West was rejected, the interchange with outsiders at this point is nuanced in a slightly different manner. What the American dream and democracy offered is quickly losing its appeal. The answer offered to Chinese citizens is no longer freedom as defined by the West, but rather prosperity and greatness will be accomplished through “comprehensively strengthening Party discipline” (Yang, 2016: 50–52). Though viewed from the outside as an attempt to consolidate power for many Chinese, “Xi’s campaign has proved enormously popular” (Leung, 2015). If in America individual freedoms provide the context for the American dream, a strong and morally pure central government provides the stable foundation of the Chinese dream.
Recurring factor of government persecution
In 2016, newspapers such as the New York Times, reported a widespread campaign by government officials to take crosses off unregistered house churches (Johnson). Less use of direct force and intimidation has been used following this campaign in 2016 and more indirect or soft pressures (such as a shift in economic policies discussed below) appear to be the new trend. It should also be noted that international cooperation in education, especially in the numbers of visiting scholars from China to the US, is stronger than ever (Institute of International Education, 2017).
However, Premier Xi’s ongoing posture of perceiving Christianity as an unwelcome source of international influence is reminiscent of familiar charges placed upon the faith from previous eras. His overall anti-corruption drive has focused not only on purifying the Communist Party but also on reigning in what he referred to as “overseas infiltrations via religious means” (“China’s Xi warns against religious infiltration from abroad,” 2016).
Outnumbering TSPM churches three to one, one dissident has described the Chinese house church movement as the “largest force in China outside the Communist Party” (Yu, 2016: 51). What remains to be seen though is whether or not 1.4 billion Chinese citizens will follow suit and identify their Christian neighbors as a threat to the Chinese dream.
Implications of rising nationalism and government persecution
Rising nationalism and increasing government persecution of Christians creates pressure on inter-family relationships between Chinese Christians and western missionaries. To be perceived as foreign is far from attractive and from a state perspective, to place one’s loyalty primarily toward a family which includes foreign elements is nothing short of betraying one’s national identity. At the same time missionaries on the ground feel an added pressure to see authority and responsibility turned over to national Christians. Even if the dominate relational paradigm of family was firmly in place instead of partnership, maintaining relationships of belonging under these outside pressures would be immensely difficult as western presence once again seems to jeopardize the safety of Chinese Christians.
New barriers to family relationship
Alongside recurring challenges throughout Chinese history, presently several new barriers to familial relationships with Chinese laborers are now growing in influence. They include shifting economic policies and the phenomenon of theological brain drain.
New barrier of shifting economic policies
Ministry, be it indigenous or partnered with foreign agencies, requires money. While Christian organizations have not been able to register legally without fully adhering to TSPM oversight, many have registered partially as nongovernment organizations (NGOs) providing services such as counselling, coaching, or other social development services. In the past registering as an NGO provided a platform from which ministry or advocacy activities could take place if conduced in a restricted manner.
The 12th Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress passed Order 44 which heavily restricts both foreign and local NGOs, handing full authority of their control over to the public-security authority (Xi, 2016). NGOs engaged in activities which “chafe with official policy” will most likely be either forced to leave China or have government support and funding revoked (Campbell, 2016). Furthermore, each foreign NGO is required to have a local sponsor. With Xi Jinping’s “increasingly autocratic climate” toward foreign influences and internal corruption, foreign NGOs will most likely find it much harder to find Chinese friends willing to vouch for their work (Campbell, 2016).
To complicate matters, the rise of ISIS and other terrorist networks have prompted governments across the globe to restrict and tightly regulate cash flow across international borders (Clarke, 2015; Turner, 2014). When the enemy is no longer a nation-state, the use of soft financial force is far more acceptable and in some ways more effective than boots on the ground.
One outworking of this counter-terrorism initiative is that western missions organizations are faced with much more difficulty when financing activities such as evangelism and discipleship. As of January 1, 2017, the newly passed NGO laws grant sweeping powers to the Ministry of Civil Affairs and local Civil Affairs Bureaus across the country and effectively limit any foreign funding of unsanctioned activities (“China: International center for non-profit law,” 2016; Xi, 2016). One official told a personal friend of mine, “The more foreign money any NGO receives the more they will be perceived as a threat” (personal communication, October 12, 2016). Thus, ministries seeking to receive foreign support and pay staff face a challenging road ahead.
One such organization determined that of the total funding received on behalf of its Chinese staff, 40.6% came from overseas sources (Personal Communication, October 12, 2016). For these several dozen individuals the new NGO laws which came into effect on the first day of 2017 create much stress. If enforced, almost half of their monthly income would no longer be accessible.
Implications of shifting economic policies
The impact of these economic changes will be acute. If we are mere partners in ministry, when the primary shared resource of funding is cut off, the entire relationship could be called into question. However, if we are family members belonging in ministry together, the weaning off of western support could prove to be a blessing in disguise, without damaging the relationship.
New barrier of theological brain drain
I recently had lunch with a college graduate weighing her options for the future. She and her fiancé are both Christians whose parents support their engagement and perceived call to full-time ministry. I came prepared to discuss several different accredited, in-country seminary options and was surprised at what I heard.
“Where did you go to seminary?” she asked. “I went to a small school in Kentucky,” I replied. “You mean Asbury? My mother really wants me to go to school there.” (Personal communication, October 28, 2015).
Current research reflects a desire in western educational institutions to accommodate for the needs of increasing numbers of Chinese students choosing to study abroad for graduate and postgraduate degrees (Bodycott, 2009; Xuan, 2016; Zwart, 2013). While this trend is not necessarily new, a fairly recent phenomenon appears to be an increased desire in Chinese Christians to pursue theological degrees in western seminaries.
This is evidenced not only by the above lunch conversation, but also in programs offered by major seminaries targeting the Chinese audience. Dallas Theological Seminary (DTS) has opened a Chinese Studies Office, while Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary employs Chinese theologians to offer a diploma program to Chinese speakers.
While programs like the one offered by Gordon-Conwell utilize Chinese speaking professors, others similar to DTS appear to translate most of their content with less of an eye for contextualization. Columbia International University has also recently opened a Chinese seminary studies program though the content is delivered through online videos featuring English audio and Chinese subtitles.
In many ways these schools are providing a much-needed service to an unregistered church often wary of sending its pastors to TSPM seminaries. Western seminaries are blessed to provide theological education by extension in ways unimagined to an audience previously untouchable. With these developments in mind, it is no real surprise that my friend at lunch had little interest hearing about in-country options even if they were accredited.
What remains unknown are the long-term effects of offering western theological education to Chinese house church pastors. Previously, western theology has not always been fully embraced by other Majority World churches. United Methodism in North America has found itself in an interesting predicament. Contrary to the wishes of some more liberal leaning bishops, “the church has resisted liberalizing its teachings on marriage and has moved more conservative on abortion.” This is due in large part to the fact that of its 13 million global members, 5 million are in Africa (Tooley, 2016), where their conservative theology has not only resisted the liberal leanings of fellow Methodists in the USA, but have now also overruled them.
While self-theologizing was not included in the original three self’s, or later five self’s which Venn and Anderson put forth (Tennent, 2010: 276), a failure in the form of exporting western theology would at least stifle or endanger indigenous theologies and would diminish global theology as a whole. If African theology was originally “‘imported’ from the outside,” and now largely ignored by the West (Tennent, 2007: 112), we must at the very least consider the possibility of this happening in China. We cannot again silence an irreplaceable voice at the family table.
Implications of theological brain drain
Will China soon realize a liberalization of western theology or its inadequacy at engaging Chinese culture on a heart level? If as westerners we are quickly becoming restricted in financially supporting the unregistered house churches in China, we may as well find ourselves guilty either of exporting theology which is poorly suited to the Chinese context or untenable to more conservative members of the Chinese church. Certainly, if one partner in a partnership is suddenly unable to utilize its two major strengths toward reaching the common goal, one should reasonably expect the partnership to be abruptly ended. The loss would be great indeed.
Recommendations
To be a family we must own the tensions inherently involved in relating to one another in truly interdependent ways. When speaking of belonging in Chinese culture one often hears the phrase 一家人 (yī jiā rén), literally one-house person. The colloquial meaning signifies people who belong to the same family or home. If there are limited resources, one cannot hoard them because we are一家人. If there is conflict or even the hint of it, everyone is assured by remembering that in the end we are一家人. We belong to the same house and therefore nothing can separate us. It is a statement of identity.
Different expressions of our family will to a certain degree share goals and strategies, but our primary identity should be one of family. In the past missiologists have sought to find mutually beneficial situations where our exchange is not one-way but two-way. They, as Chinese Christians, are uniquely equipped and blessed to take the gospel back to Jerusalem (Yun, Yongze, Wang, and Hattaway, 2005), and we have been blessed and divinely positioned to give from our financial or theological abundance.
This partnership arrangement has worked to some degree for the time being because the move to a partnership paradigm was at first a helpful correction. The recurring and new context-specific barriers discussed above undermine the validity of that partnership. The test is whether or not our relationships are limited to this type of two-way exchange. If so, then it is reasonable to assume Chinese Christians will eventually reject mere partnership. This rejection would come not because we have failed to serve our purpose as partners, but rather because we remained partners and failed to become one family, 一家人, with them.
How do we live together as family? We must embrace the tension of being family together. Increasing government pressure and rising nationalism means that while house church pastors may welcome missionaries not working themselves out of a job, the Religious Affairs Bureau may soon make that a moot point. For western mission organizations the temptation then is to rapidly move toward indigenization initiatives. However, this must not be done at the cost of family relationships. There is an inherent tension, and though uncomfortable, it is usually helpful. In this case the tension between longing to stay with no certain guarantees, gives us an opportunity for genuine dinner-table dialogue as a family.
Current partnership relationships between western mission organizations and house church networks may need to put their work on pause. This pause might create a space in which conversations between leaders on both sides could decide together how to best face a potential exodus of foreign workers resulting from continually rising nationalism. In light of this broader cultural force, discussing the ways each family member can show themselves as loyal could prove helpful in setting expectations and clarifying the way forward.
Some western missionaries and sending churches view enduring government persecution as a badge of honor, which is admired and respected. While this is understandable, it is also a fairly one-dimensional perspective of a complex phenomenon. Asking questions of our Chinese brothers and sisters about how this affects their spouses, their children, their emotional and psychological well-being can help us more fully understand and therefore relate.
Financially, our deep pockets may no longer be an asset to the church in China. We do, however, have a rich experience in raising financial support. Local Chinese Christians would be well advised to seek out any applicable wisdom from that experience and will need encouragement as they should begin to wean themselves off foreign support as soon as possible. Thankfully, truly relating means we share things more valuable than finances and therefore we can embrace these tensions together.
Theologically, there seems to be no undoing the growing desire for western seminary degrees and our rich theological heritage should be welcome at the family table. However, to do this as caring family members we must enter the tension of not uncritically offering content and also allowing their theological voice at the table to influence our own. This is a serious and grave responsibility that we cannot and must not take lightly. Chinese students and graduates must not be the trophy western seminaries hold high, nor can they merely be another source of coveted diversity.
Instead they should be treated as family members just as we should conduct ourselves as family members. Becoming family helps us embrace our very real need for them and they for us, regardless of shifting historical or cultural developments. One body. One family. One church. One Lord.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
