We rode our bicycles down the narrow back streets of what was once Peking, but is now Beijing and has been for a long time now. These sweet but incredibly covert people were leading me to a place I didn’t know of, had never been before, a leap of faith. If we are caught there will be severe consequences. It is not like other countries I have been to where you will face a very public torture or death, for here, no-one knows what will happen to you, you will simply disappear.
I am a theology professor from the United States asked to speak at the University here in Beijing by one of the few approved missionaries in the country. It is very odd, I am a professional at interpreting the Bible, yet before I went onstage, I was told by a government official that I am not to speak of God, the Bible, Christ, the church, or anything of religious significance. Dumbfounded, I told the officer I didn’t have enough jokes to keep going for 30 minutes, which was my allotted speaking time. He then said I could only speak of these things if someone asked me a direct question, and then, only then, may I answer it.
We peddled past a small grassy park, and into a neighborhood with small but pretty cottages, some with typical pagoda style roofs. Most had little if any yards to them, but the people who lived there made the most of what they had in beautiful landscaping. Beautifully trimmed trees like I have never before seen, vines and flower beds. The air is alive with the aroma of flowers in bloom. It is hard to believe that a place with such beauty can also be a place so staunchly against faith in God. We turn down a narrow lane as I try to keep up. There is a man standing in the lane, back against a garage door smoking a cigarette, a look of indifference on his face. As we approach, he casually glances both ways in the lane, then quickly waves us toward an open garden gate. We ride in as he chucks the cigarette and quickly closes the garden gate behind us. We park our bikes in a fairly large beautiful garden with a pond in the center. The home is large by Beijing standards as we walk through a large sliding glass door at the rear of the home into a large common room, filled to practically overflowing with people. Families around the room sit on folding chairs, crates, cushions, and large throw pillows, their pleasant questioning stares all aimed at me, the westerner visiting their foreign and restrictive world.
As I walk up to the lectern, and look out to the audience of five hundred university students, wondering what I am going to say, I manage to introduce myself, offer my credentials and rattle off a quick verbal resume as I feel sweat begin to run down the center of my back. I look up and to my surprise, there is a young lady in the crowd with her arm raised. Relief surges through me as I point to her and say “Yes”? She says “Are you a Christian” and I feel warmth spread through my soul as I answer her question. There must be ten hands up now, I choose one and a young man asks me to explain my faith, Bingo I have permission to just let it flow. The next question was “How did I become a Christ follower”? These young men and women know the law and have found their way around it, as the warm confidence of the Holy Spirit pushes out the last of the fear from my heart, turning me once again into the soul winner for Christ I proclaim to be. After the session is over, many of the students come and shake my hand, thanking me for coming and speaking. A young man discretely asks if I would like to go to church with him this evening, and I quickly accept. He tells me to meet him in the lobby of my hotel at five pm, and to wear casual clothes. I agree, shake his hand and he quickly disappears, as I notice the officer looking unpleasantly at me, then looking around at all of the people who are leaving. I turn and leave.
There are easily sixty people in the room give or take a few, as a man rises from a nice high back chair (the nicest chair in the room) and insists I sit. Everyone is now smiling at me at once, curiosity clearly in their expressions as a young man leads the group in a couple of well memorized hymns. The group then holds hands around the room and prays quietly, gently, and touchingly to the same God I openly worship without fear in the States. Then, at once everyone pulls out a piece of paper, some from purses, some from pockets, and backpacks. One young man even raises his trousers and lowers his athletic tube socks to reveal each leg has paper wrapped around it. Some are folded, some sweaty, some crinkled and they begin to straighten them out on their knees. After a minute or two of hushed conversation I notice everyone is passing their papers to their right and I have no clue what is happening. The elderly woman to my left hands a piece of paper to me and implies that I should pass it to the teenage girl to my right, so I do as I am told and the young lady takes it from my hand. They all then fold up and re-pocket, re-purse and re-stow the papers until they are all gone again. My host then explains that these papers are chapters in the Bible, and that Bibles are very rare in China because they are illegal. Since they are so rare and hard to come by, their church cuts the Word up into sections of a few chapters at a time, and hand them out individually. Everyone is so eager to learn it that they memorize their section in a week, then pass it on and get the next section each week at home church. It is also easier to hide a few pages of the Bible than it is to hide a book, reducing the threat of being one of those who disappear.
As I sit here thinking about the saints meeting secretly in China, my heart is in my throat and tears sting my eyes as I look around my study. I have shelves full of Bibles, KJV’s, NKJV’s, NAS’s, NIV’s, Message’s, concordances, and commentaries. I have made a career out of studying God’s word, dissecting it and giving my expert opinions on it’s interpretations. I sit surrounded by spiritual ammunition, but on the front lines, the saints were splitting up a cheap Gideon Bible and making it work for their entire church, saving souls on a shoestring. My tears fall on the crinkled letter I have just read from my friend in China, asking me to pray for the church people I had met. You see, they have all disappeared. My friend was ill one evening and was not able to go to church, learning the next day that none of the members returned home to their families. He rode his bicycle down the narrow alley behind the home church, and there was a team of government officers removing all of the contents of the home, and placing them in a military truck. He mourns, but has found another home church to worship with, but this church doesn’t have a Bible, they are praying a missionary can get them one, so that they may begin a chapter exchange.
God Bless and Keep you
JFT
Story written based on facts from a missionary visiting China. There are 100 million Christ followers meeting underground in China.