Understanding authority from Rome to Beijing

As geo-political tensions between China and the West rise, K.K. Yeo explores authority and religion in China, finding complex questions and nuanced answers.

K.K. Yeo

K.-K. Yeo, a diaspora Chinese, lectures widely in majority world including China on cross-cultural understanding of civilization and religion.

Haidian Christian Church

Is the West Christian and China Confucianist? Or is the West secular and China communist? Binary understanding of our world in conventional terms, such as East versus West, or the sacred-secular divide, is superficial and confusing. Given the biases, divisiveness and, at times, toxic geopolitical reality today, the topic of government and Christianity in China today is more complex than meets the eye. A much better option is a meaningful cross-cultural perspective that enables constructive conversation, while honoring different contexts and nuanced understandings.

Does it surprise you that, an atheist, and at times anti-religion, ‘party-state’ China is the world’s largest Bible printer? Christianity in China has existed since the seventh century when the Syrian Church of the East had rigorous cultural, religious, and commercial exchanges with many nations as far as those in East Asia. Recently the regime in China has become concerned about the growth of the Christian population that might be outnumbering the Party’s members. There has been the suppression of believers, burning of crosses, and demolition of churches across the country. The Communist Party eliminated the State Administration for Religious Affairs in 2018, and the United Front Work Department of the Communist Party now has direct control on all religions.

Does it surprise you that, an atheist, and at times anti-religion, ‘party-state’ China is the world’s largest Bible printer?

Churches in China exist in a harsh reality similar to that of first century Roman Empire, so they inevitably find the teaching of St. Paul in the Bible to be of great interest. Chinese Christians have long had nuanced responses to their government. The house church remains committed to love Christ only - rendering to God the things that are God’s, and only then would they render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s. This ‘separation of religion and government’ position (preservation of religious freedom from government intrusion) is considered to be politically subversive to the authoritarian rule of the Party. Therefore, the house churches have long distanced themselves from politics, while acknowledging that their Christian behaviour, such as loving their neighbor as a religious duty, is ‘the best politics’ for nation building.

By contrast, the Three-Self Patriotic churches—and also the current Vatican-China agreement on the appointment of Chinese bishops—do not find a serious discrepancy in loving Christ and the communist state. They seek to work with the government primarily in the matter of social welfare but have range of mixed views on the scope of combining patriotism with Christian belief. To maintain no or minimum separation of government and religion is becoming more and more challenging as the government centralises its control of all aspects of national and personal lives.

Christians in China are asking harder questions than those in churches outside China.

Can a Christian church adopt a state ideology or become a member of the Communist Party to support Christian identity and social harmony in China?

Are church attendance and participating in church activities politically subversive?

And what does it mean to say that ‘Jesus is Lord’ in that land?

I remember teaching at Peking University and seeing the students debate a scenario in the Bible in which the Thessalonian crowd was charging the apostle Paul and his colleague Silas for contradicting the decree of Caesar, for ‘saying that there is another king named Jesus’. Paul was surely preaching neither about insurrection nor subversion of the Roman Empire. However, Roman audiences then, and Chinese crowd or government today, are more likely to have perceived the belief in ‘Jesus as Lord’ as a political threat.

A case in point concerns Wang Yi, the pastor of the Early Rain Church in the city of Chendu, who preached Jesus as the Lord of lords - thus implying that the current political ruler is subsumed under Jesus Christ. Yi was sentenced to nine years in prison in 2018 ‘for inciting subversion of state power’. Cardinal Joseph Zen, a 90-year-old Catholic bishop in Hong Kong, was arrested in 2022 for criticizing the Vatican’s unwise deal with China, and for being an advocate of democracy in Hong Kong.

Christians in Hong Kong are treading similar water regarding their religious faith clashing with the politicized perception of such faith as treason, such as in the Umbrella Movement or the Occupy Central with Love and Peace that protest the will of the Chinese Communist rule in Hong Kong.

Can a Christian church adopt a state ideology or become a member of the Communist Party to support Christian identity and social harmony in China?

Using the teaching of St Paul in his letter to early Christians in Rome as a resource, the Chinese argue that he encourages these Roman Christians to critically reflect on government power so as to bring all nations to obedience of God’s justice. The popular reading of Paul as asking Roman Christians to ‘be subjected to the governing authorities’ for the reason that ‘for there is no authority except from God’ is a weak English translation. To the Chinese church, Paul admonishes Roman Christians to ‘subject themselves to the governing authorities’, and that is not a passive submission but a voluntary involvement as good citizens in the process of bringing about change to their government. The Chinese church sees that Paul challenges government politics, first by stating the principle that, ‘it is not an authority if not from God’, i.e., ‘unless from God’. In other words, there may be some governing authorities that are not appointed by God, thus begging the question: how does one know if governing authorities are from God and those not from God?

It seems that Paul is not concerned about whether a government or the head of state is Christian or not. What matters to Paul is not what the government says but the way the government or the head of state acts in accordance to the following principles:

Rulers are not to terrorize good conducts and good citizens; the rule of law is meant to approve the good-doers and punish the evil-doers;
Rulers are ‘ministers’ of God for the common good of the people, even though Roman Empire has its mythic origin from Jupiter, a Roman god;
Rulers are ‘worship leaders’ of God as they administer collected taxes not for their own concentration of power, but for the dignity and flourishing of the citizens, thus realizing God’s compassionate justice on earth, promoting the welfare of the city.

Churches outside China read Paul on government politics based on their assumed cultural context of Christian values. Yet, the Chinese church’s courage and humility to ask hard questions for themselves is an enlightening conversation. For those outside China, a cross-cultural and global understanding of government and religion can shed light on the promotion of a robust public life.

Why end of life agony is not a good reason to allow death on demand

Assisted dying and the unintended consequences of compassion.

Graham Tomlin

Graham is the Director of the Centre for Cultural Witness and a former Bishop of Kensington.

Towfiqu Barbhuiya on Unsplash.

Those advocating Assisted Dying really have only one strong argument on their side – the argument from compassion. People who have seen relatives dying in extreme pain and discomfort understandably want to avoid that scenario. Surely the best way is to allow assisted dying as an early way out for such people to avoid the agony that such a death involves?

Now it’s a powerful argument. To be honest I can’t say what I would feel if I faced such a death, or if I had to watch a loved one go through such an ordeal. All the same, there are good reasons to hold back from legalising assisted dying even in the face of distress at the prospect of enduring or having to watch a painful and agonising death.

In any legislation, you have to bear in mind unintended consequences. A law may benefit one particular group, but have knock-on effects for another group, or wider social implications that are profoundly harmful. Few laws benefit everyone, so lawmakers have to make difficult decisions balancing the rights and benefits of different groups of people.

It feels odd to be citing percentages and numbers faced with something so elemental and personal and death and suffering, but it is estimated that around two per cent of us will die in extreme pain and discomfort. Add in the 'safeguards' this bill proposes (a person must be suffering from a terminal disease with fewer than six months to live, capable of making such a decision, with two doctors and a judge to approve it) and the number of people this directly affects becomes really quite small. Much as we all sympathise and feel the force of stories of agonising suffering - and of course, every individual matters - to put it bluntly, is it right to entertain the knock-on effects on other groups in society and to make such a fundamental shift in our moral landscape, for the sake of the small number of us who will face this dreadful prospect? Reading the personal stories of those who have endured extreme pain as they approached death, or those who have to watch over ones do so is heart-rending - yet are they enough on their own to sanction a change to the law?

Much has been made of the subtle pressure put upon elderly or disabled people to end it all, to stop being a burden on others. I have argued elsewhere on Seen and Unseen that that numerous elderly people will feel a moral obligation to safeguard the family inheritance by choosing an early death rather than spend the family fortune on end of life care, or turning their kids into carers for their elderly parents. Individual choice for those who face end of life pain unintentionally lands an unenviable and unfair choice on many more vulnerable people in our society. Giles Fraser describes the indirect pressure well:

“You can say “think of the children” with the tiniest inflection of the voice, make the subtlest of reference to money worries. We communicate with each other, often most powerfully, through almost imperceptible gestures of body language and facial expression. No legal safeguard on earth can detect such subliminal messaging.”

There is also plenty of testimony that suggests that even with constant pain, life is still worth living. Michelle Anna-Moffatt writes movingly of her brush with assisted suicide and why she pulled back from it, despite living life in constant pain.

Once we have blurred the line between a carer offering a drink to relieve thirst and effectively killing them, a moral line has been crossed that should make us shudder.

Despite the safeguards mentioned above, the move towards death on the NHS is bound to lead to a slippery slope – extending the right to die to wider groups with lesser obvious needs. As I wrote in The Times recently, given the grounds on which the case for change is being made – the priority of individual choice – there are no logical grounds for denying the right to die of anyone who chooses that option, regardless of their reasons. If a teenager going through a bout of depression, or a homeless person who cannot see a way out of their situation chooses to end it all, and their choice is absolute, on what grounds could we stop them? Once we have based our ethics on this territory, the slippery slope is not just likely, it is inevitable.

Then there is the radical shift to our moral landscape. A disabled campaigner argues that asking for someone to help her to die “is no different for me than asking my caregiver to help me on the toilet, or to give me a shower, or a drink, or to help me to eat.” Sorry - but it is different, and we know it. Once we have blurred the line between a carer offering a drink to relieve thirst and effectively killing them, a moral line has been crossed that should make us shudder.

In Canada, many doctors refuse, or don’t have time to administer the fatal dose so companies have sprung up, offering ‘medical professionals’ to come round with the syringe to finish you off. In other words, companies make money out of killing people. It is the commodification of death. When we have got to that point, you know we have wandered from the path somewhere.

You would have to be stony-hearted indeed not to feel the force of the argument to avoid pain-filled deaths. Yet is a change to benefit such people worth the radical shift of moral value, the knock-on effects on vulnerable people who will come under pressure to die before their time, the move towards death on demand?

Surely there are better ways to approach this? Doctors can decide to cease treatment to enable a natural death to take its course, or increase painkillers that will may hasten death - that is humane and falls on the right side of the line of treatment as it is done primarily to relieve pain, not to kill. Christian faith does not argue that life is to be preserved at any cost – our belief in martyrdom gives the lie to that. More importantly, a renewed effort to invest in palliative care and improved anaesthetics will surely reduce such deaths in the longer term. These approaches are surely much wiser and less impactful on the large numbers of vulnerable people in our society than the drastic step of legalising killing on the NHS.