God Is Red (6 page)

Liao:
Really?

Jia:
Let me give you an example. There's a poster at the entrance about a missing person who lived more than two thousand years ago. It says: “Jesus from Nazareth, 1.80 meters tall, with brown curly hair, bright piercing eyes brimming with vigor, his voice sonorous and forceful. He doesn't bow to evil forces and he detests hypocrisies. God is the path. He represents truth and life. If you find Him, please follow Him.”

Liao:
Do you pledge loyalty to the Vatican?

Jia:
Not really. Bishops and priests who have relations with the Vatican are being monitored closely by the government. They try very hard to block any contacts with the Vatican. The Communist Party has planted many of its people inside the church. The government constantly reminds the clergy not to stray or do anything to violate the Party policy. Before any kind of large-scale Mass, the government has to approve the contents of the sermon.

Liao:
Do you bow to evil forces?

Jia:
I have not been tested yet.

Liao:
What about your parents?

Jia:
They went through the destructive Cultural Revolution. The only thing they mentioned was that they didn't give up on God. They prayed secretly. They don't want to dwell too much on the past. I think most Catholics in China feel the same way.

I
n the course of my research I came across a copy of Wu Yongsheng's
The
History of Christianity in Dali
, which outlines the work of early missionaries in southwest China. I was determined to talk to the author about the past and present spread of the Christian religion.

The Old City Protestant Church, or “Fuyintang,” was built in 1905. Occupying more than three hundred square meters, Fuyintang is architecturally mixed—Bai ethnic residential meets European gothic. Its facade is exposed stone, and a cross painted in red stands prominently atop a traditional Chinese roof tower that resembles an eagle flapping in flight. Old courtyard houses and Bai buildings in the vicinity are dwarfed by its presence.

The chapel was empty when I called on the afternoon of August 11, 2009, with my monk friend Ze Yu. We stepped out and turned into a small quiet lane near the chapel. Based on the address provided by the church staff, we knocked on the door of a small courtyard house. An elderly lady with gray hair popped her head out, looking stern and annoyed. When she heard we were friends of the church, she mulled it over for a few seconds and led us to a spartanly furnished house, inside of which were hung crosses and scrolls of Bible proverbs and a family portrait I took to be of Wu and his wife, Zhang Fengxiang (the gray-haired lady), and their offspring—some twenty in total.

Wu Yongsheng was born in 1924. An elder at the Dali Old City Protestant Church, he was highly respected in the Christian community. Three months before our visit, he had a stroke and fell. He received timely treatment and, though his movement was impaired and he walked with a cane, had retained all his faculties and was articulate, his mind lucid. He presented me with a copy of the Book of Psalms. I accepted it, saying that I would “study up on it.” Wu corrected me, saying, “You should use it as a mirror to confess your sins and reform.” He urged monk Ze to abdicate his pursuit of enlightenment through Buddha and look to Jesus for salvation. Ze responded with a smile.

During our interview, Wu was guarded, even evasive, when I asked about his views on the past political campaigns, though the reason for his reluctance to discuss such questions became clear toward the end of our visit.

Wu Yongsheng:
I was born in the provincial capital of Kunming. In 1937, when I was finishing up elementary school, my mother's younger brother returned to Kunming from Dali and told me to quit school. “The whole country is in chaos,” he said. “Disasters are imminent. What's the point of attending school?” This uncle asked me to apprentice with him and become a carpenter. Even though the war [with Japan] had not officially started, you could feel it. There were sirens all the time. Food prices went up dramatically and people hoarded goods. Our family lived in constant fear. My uncle's offer made my parents happy, and I returned with him to Dali on an old-style bus that carried both people and merchandise. We spent four days on a road that was paved with rocks as big as potatoes. It was such a bumpy ride. I felt like my whole body was falling apart. Nowadays, when you come from Kunming, it takes half a day.

Liao Yiwu:
Did your uncle have his own business in Dali?

Wu:
Yes. He ran his own shop in Dali's old section. As an apprentice, at first I only helped him with some simple errands. He was a Christian and knew many foreign missionaries in town. Each time they needed some work done, they would look for him. He treated me as his own child and took me to Sunday services every week. Soon, I learned the Bible and knew how to sing hymns. In 1940, an American couple arrived in Dali.

Liao:
Do you remember their names?

Wu:
Let me see . . . Mr. and Mrs. Harold Taylor. They rented a small courtyard house on Foreigner Street. They put up a sign on their door. It said “The Christian Church.” They asked us to renovate the house. During the renovation, we lived on the second floor. The Taylors would leave the house in the morning and come back late at night. They treated us very nicely. They requested that we say a prayer or read the Bible before starting work every day. We followed their advice. By June 1941, I felt inspired by God and was baptized. I was seventeen.

On the day of my baptism, my uncle woke me up at dawn. “It's the day of your rebirth today,” my uncle said. The old city wall was still in good shape back then, and you could see all of the four tower gates from the town center. We went through the western gate and waited near a stream that poured down from Cangshan Mountain. A water mill had been built there to grind grain. The mill had two big wooden wheels and operated day and night. In the 1940s, the water mill was a novelty. Reverend Taylor was only in his thirties and liked technology. He thought the stream at the mill an appropriate place to baptize me. He had me step into a pond on the right side of the waterwheel and recited some verses. His big hands held my small thin body. Slowly, he submerged me in the water, from head to toe. I kept my eyes open and could see the top of the city wall, Cangshan Mountain, and then the white clouds and blue sky. I thought I would see my creator residing high up in heaven but was content to feel surrounded by beautiful white clouds.

Liao:
It must have been a wonderful feeling.

Wu:
After the ceremony, Reverend Taylor held my hands and said in his broken Chinese: “Brother Wu, thanks for taking over.” I didn't understand what he meant until the Taylors had to leave Dali. The Japanese troops had moved in from Myanmar and occupied the nearby city of Tengchong. They were bombing Kunming and Xiaguan. Many Americans decided to leave.

Liao:
Were there a lot of foreigners in Dali?

Wu:
Quite a lot. Some didn't stay long though. They just came and went.

Liao:
Were the Taylors well known in the region?

Wu:
Not really. They stayed in Dali for no more than two years. They built a small church and had a limited number of followers. The most famous missionary couple was Mr. and Mrs. Liang Xisheng. Their English names were, let me see, Mr. and Mrs. William Allen. They were very well known in the region. They served in the Dali region for more than ten years and were known for their generosity, both material and spiritual. Unlike the Taylors, they were successful and had gathered a large following. Many high school students took English lessons from them at home. One night, as Mrs. Allen was saying her nightly prayers, she suddenly noticed a man's foot sticking out from under her bed—one of her former students had snuck into their house to steal food. Before he had time to run away, Mrs. Allen walked in. He hid under her bed, hoping to escape after she fell asleep. Mrs. Allen jumped up and screamed with fear. Scared by the noise, the thief crawled in farther. Reverend Allen rushed in from the living room. He bent down, trying to persuade the thief to come out by saying, “You don't have to worry. We are not reporting you to the police. I know your family is poor. Just come out and take whatever you want. I don't care.” The thief started crying and promised to crawl out if Reverend Allen would step away from the bed. Meanwhile, Mrs. Allen said, “My dear, I will pray for you. I will ask the Lord to forgive your sins.” The thief answered, “No thanks, I don't need you to pray for me. I'm not a Christian.” After he finally got out, the thief saw something shining in Reverend Allen's hand. Thinking it was a weapon, the thief pulled out his knife and stabbed at Reverend Allen's thigh. It turned out Reverend Allen was holding a glass of water for the thief. The stabbing shocked Mrs. Allen, who ran out and screamed, “Help, Help.” The neighbors heard commotion and helped catch the thief.

Liao:
What a story. What happened to the thief?

Wu:
The next day, Reverend Allen went to the police station and bailed the thief out. He knew the poor kid was driven to burglary because of poverty. He never pressed any charges. For a while, it was big news here and spread fast in the region. People were really moved by their generosity. When people saw Reverend Allen on the street, they addressed him as a “saint.” He would wave his hands and reply in his Dali dialect, “I don't deserve that honor. I'm merely doing the Lord's work.”

Since ancient times, Dali has been fertile ground for all types of religion. Gods and deities fill every inch of the land here. Buddhism and Islam were already here when Christianity arrived, but it spread fast because we have had many wonderful Christians like Rev. Allen, who, through their behavior, demonstrated the benevolence of God.

Liao:
Do you consider yourself one of them?

Wu:
I'm just an ordinary Christian. I was a carpenter, nothing worth mentioning. Anyway, after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, the United States entered the war. Some Westerners working in the Japanese-occupied territories were arrested and murdered. Many were forced to escape south. A lot of them came to Dali. The China Inland Mission had established a Christian hospital in Henan province around 1906, and the hospital moved to Dali around that time.

Liao:
I read about the China Inland Mission, a British missionary organization that was founded in London in 1865 by James Hudson Taylor. From your own book, I learned that Reverend Taylor and sixteen other missionaries arrived in Shanghai in 1866. They were probably among the earliest Christian foreign missionaries in China.

Wu:
Probably.

Liao:
Please, go on with your story.

Wu:
In 1942 the Japanese troops moved in from Myanmar. Cities like Wanding, Tengchong, and Baoshan fell one after another. Kunming and Xiaguang were frequently bombed. The Christian hospital was open to all people. Doctors were busy treating wounded civilians and soldiers. There was an outbreak of cholera. It was really busy there. I did carpentry work for the hospital and became a regular employee. I became interested in medicine, took classes, and became a doctor at the hospital and stayed there until I retired in 1988.

Liao:
Doesn't that rather oversimplify your life in the past sixty some years?

Wu:
I don't want to dwell on the past. Besides, after I had my stroke, my memory is no longer good. Our Christian hospital was the best in the whole southwestern region. We helped thousands of patients.

I still remember the names of many missionaries. People like De Meichun (Jessie McDonald), Bao Wenlian (Frances Powell), Shi Airen (M. E. Scott) and Ma Guangqi (Doris M. L. Madden) had moved to Dali from Henan province at the end of 1941. They devoted their lives to serving the people here. But when the Communist troops came, they forced all foreign missionaries to leave. I still remember the date, May 4, 1951, when the troops took over the hospital. They reviewed the asset inventories, then ordered our hospital president, Jessie McDonald, to sign over all the hospital's assets. Then they kicked her out.

Liao:
Were you condemned?

Wu:
Comparatively speaking, the attacks against me were minimal. After all, I was only a staff member at the hospital. At that time, we had about fifty staff members; only ten of us were Christians.

Liao:
Did you attend public denunciation meetings?

Wu:
I wasn't singled out, but we had to attend many political study sessions.

Liao:
Did they question your close relations with foreign missionaries?

Wu:
The foreign missionaries had all left. There was nothing left to question. I did have to write many confessions. I've written hundreds of confessions in my life.

Liao:
Did they allow people to attend church services?

Wu:
We were allowed at the beginning. Then all religious activities were banned. Many people were too scared to go. Some attended services at the beginning until they openly renounced their beliefs. I persisted throughout. In the end, I simply prayed at home.

Liao:
Did it feel strange to attend Communist study sessions during the day and pray to God at home in the evenings?

Wu:
I would do whatever the authorities wanted me to do at work. However, secular politics couldn't replace spiritual pursuits.

Liao:
In the 1950s, Reverend Wu Yaozong in Beijing established the Three-Self Patriotic Church, which was then endorsed by the government. Did you support the Three-Self principles?

Wu:
When the Westerners left, the churches already followed the principles of self-governance, self-propagation and self-support. In Dali, we also established the Three-Self Patriotic Committee. Reverend Duan Liben was the director. I supported the tenets laid out in the Bible.

Liao:
Did you openly state that position in the Mao era?

Wu:
Oh, I wouldn't dare. In 1952 the Dali United Front Department ordered Christian churches of different denominations to merge. We had the Catholic Church, the Episcopalian Church, and the Old City Church. We held services together until the political campaigns became really bad. The revolutionary masses had been mobilized to attack Christians. The slogan was “hurting their flesh to change their souls.” As a result, people left the church in droves. In the end, the only open Christians in Dali were Reverend Hou Wuling and his wife, Li Quanben, and Yang Fengzhen . . .

Liao:
What happened to them?

Wu:
They all died tragically. Reverend Hou Wuling had been publicly denounced several times. He died during a public study session, an aneurism . . . but please, let's not talk about him. It breaks my heart to even think about it.

Before the Cultural Revolution ended, all open religious activities had been banned. Churches and church assets had been seized. Only in silence could people pray and read Scripture. It was a treat just to move our lips and shape the name of God.