I Have A Vision For China

I have a
Vision
For
China

I have a vision. I have a vision for China.

I see a day in which more and more Chinese people hear the glad tidings of the Saviour and call upon Him for salvation.

I see a day in which millions of Chinese believers all across China scramble each Lord’s day to get out the door and head for church to worship their King.

I see a day in which millions of Chinese families gather each evening for family devotions and recount the story of Calvary to their children.

I see a day in which Chinese pastors train up young men in their churches to preach the Word and be instant in season and out of season.

I see a day in which Chinese churches are turning out church planters by the thousands to populate both its city blocks and farming villages with local churches that gather weekly to show forth the praises of their Lord.

I see a day in which every last one of China’s 1.4 billion people hasn’t simply heard the name Jesus, but has heard His story and had the opportunity to believe.

I see a day in which, if the Lord tarries, China will become a nation made up of countless born-again believers who themselves aren’t simply satisfied to sit in their pews but are compelled by the love of their Saviour to take the gospel that has transformed their own lives to the nations.

I see a day in which millions upon millions of Chinese believers are mobilized to take the gospel to both the surrounding Asian nations and around the world.

I see a day in which Chinese young people take to the deputation trail among their own churches to share their burdens, present their ministries, and raise their support; all to reach nations like Indonesia, Pakistan, and Nigeria with the gospel.

I see a day in which Chinese churches partner with and send on those heralds of light, becoming their fellowhelpers to the truth.

I see a day in which Chinese missionaries travel abroad, learn foreign languages, and plant local indigenous churches in places like Brazil, Afghanistan, and Ethiopia.

I see a day in which older Chinese pastors and missionaries write their sons in the faith, encouraging them to press on in their footsteps, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.”

I see a day in which countless Chinese believers beam with gratitude exclaiming, “耶稣是主!” (“Jesus is Lord!”), as they bow their knees before the Highly Exalted One, and He says, “Well done, thou good and faithful servants!”

I have a vision. I have a vision for China.

I have a
Vision
For
China

The Untold Millions of West China

The following story, though fictitious, is based largely upon many conversations we have had with Western Chinese people.

A hint of anger rushed over his face. “I hate them!” he exclaimed. “Why can’t they just let us live our lives our way? We just want to live in peace!”

As Alimjam continued to vent his frustrations, two things immediately caught my attention. First, I couldn’t help but notice his fluency in Mandarin Chinese. Yes, he like many college-aged Uyghurs learned Mandarin in grade school. But his Mandarin was near perfect. He had already impressed me when we first met a couple of weeks previous as he had the best Mandarin of any Uyghur I had ever interacted with. But a person shows the depth of their second-language learning when they are angry. In their frustration, they often stumble over words they would otherwise be able to say when calm as their speech cannot keep up with how fast their emotions are raging. Me being impressed is an understatement.

The second thing that took me by surprise, albeit a few moments later, was the bright hazel shade of his eyes. Living in China the previous three years, I didn’t often interact with people of any eye color other than very dark brown. And yet, Alimjam’s eyes paired with his full beard and European-esque face all stood in stark contrast with the rest of my Chinese friends.

Yes, that’s right. Though Alimjam is Uyghur, he is Chinese. Though he detests his nationality, he is Chinese. Though he is of Turkic decent, he is Chinese. Though if he is to learn the Chinese language it must be as a second language since his parents speak very little Chinese, he is Chinese. Though he is Muslim, he is Chinese. Though he, his family, and his people feel totally other-than, he is Chinese. At least, that is what China says. China says he is Chinese.

“You and I,” Alimjam continued in his tirade, “have something in common that neither of us have in common with Chinese people.”

“What’s that?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

“Faith!”

I froze. I had never thought of that before. True enough, as far as he sees things, at least he and I each believe in something. Though the God of the Bible is vastly different from that of Islam, at least we each believe in the divine.

“These Chinese are godless pagans! Some may say they worship Buddha, but we know that is shallow at best. They are godless, living for nothing more than for themselves, their wallets, and their bellies! You know it’s true!”

In many ways, I saw where he was coming from. Being officially atheist for decades now, China has taught both atheism and evolution in its classrooms for just as long. On the whole, there is no thought of a Creator God, His Lordship, and an afterlife. Generally speaking, most Chinese are told to give their allegiance to the state, follow Confucian principles of devotion to family, and live entirely for the present world. What’s more, though the constitution technically guarantees “freedom of religion”, they are truly only “free” to choose from a short list of permissible religions. Moreover, choosing one of those religions, one must follow it as the government directs, not as the individual would so choose.

Islam has made that short list, though that is probably more because the nation at the time of the writing of the current constitution already had practicing Muslims, like Alimjam, within its borders than because the nation truly approves of Islam. Wanting to tide over such people, at least until they could be influenced otherwise, was almost certainly the idea. In modern times, both Alimjam’s testimony and news trickling out of the region would both indicate that the time to influence them otherwise is at hand.

As Alimjam continued, he spoke of how his girlfriend was forced to join the military against her and her family’s beliefs and was stationed along the South China coast — far away from her West China home. Alimjam himself was forced to come to his current university of study where the majority of his classmates were non-Uyghur Chinese. He said it was all because there was a push to “brainwash” them out of their Muslim faith and assimilate them into the greater non-religious society.


Though the terms “Muslim” and “Islam” certainly don’t immediately come to mind when thinking of Chinese people, China is home to some 20 million Muslims, and over half of those are ethnically Uyghur. Though they are vastly different by language, culture, religion, customs, and way of life from other Chinese people, they and other Chinese Muslims share one common denominator with the rest of China: they need to hear and believe the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.

You see, regardless of whether a person has black eyes or hazel eyes; lives in the majority or in the minority; believes in no God, believes in Buddha, or believes in Allah; they all need to hear the good news of salvation offered in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Atheism cannot save because God says that the fool has said in his heart that there is no God.

Buddhism and ancestor worship cannot save because Jesus says that He is the way, the truth, and the life and that no one can get to the Father but through Him.

Islam, Allah, and praying toward Mecca cannot save because God commands the nations that pray to gods that cannot save to look unto Him and be saved because He is God and there is none else – there is none beside Him!

Friends, as you pray for China, pray not only for the Atheists and Buddhists, but also for the 20 million plus Muslims. Pray that God would continue to raise up more men to go to China bearing and preaching the name of the Lord Jesus Christ so that the people of China such as Alimjam, regardless of ethnicity, culture, and religion, could hear the name of Jesus, believe upon His name, call upon His name, and be saved.

A Tale of Two Tombs (2019)

The following story, though fictitious, is based largely upon events and situations we have witnessed while living in China.

“How much do you charge to go to SheXing mountain?”

“SheXing mountain?!” was the startled response. “If you’re wanting me to take you to SheXing mountain, I’ll need at least 30RMB. After all, I’ll have to eat a couple of red eggs when I get home tonight after going there.”

The motorcycle taxi driver spoke with a spooked look about him and continued, “And don’t expect me to take you all the way up either. I’ll get you to the temple just through the gate. You’ll have to walk the rest of way up.”

“Walk the rest of the way up? You expect me to do that?” retorted Lily. She looked down at her newly purchased bag of apples. The eight apples could still be seen through the red of the plastic bag in the sunlight.

“How am I supposed to make the hike up the rest of the trail with these plus this large bouquet in hand?” she thought.

“I’ll do it for 30RMB and take you all the way up!” came another voice just a distance away.

Looking over the driver’s shoulder, Lily spotted the source of the voice. A second motorcycle taxi driver figured he would capitalize on the first driver’s superstitions. He had them too, but he wasn’t as bothered by the prospect of having to make two red eggs that evening.

“Sold!” said Lily both relieved and in disbelief. Relieved that she could get to SheXing mountain and get this over with and in disbelief at the price of getting there. She would have taken her own motorbike, but driving up the mountain trail with the apples and bouquet was something she wasn’t interested in, particularly with the teeming crowds of people that were expected to make the same pilgrimage today.

She hopped on the back of the second driver’s motorcycle and sped off, leaving the first driver’s counter offer of 25RMB to fade in the distance.

Approaching the bottom of SheXing, the throngs of people awaiting her at the top became real as Lily noticed all the cars parked along the streets at the base. Swarms of other motorcycle taxis could be seen flowing in and out the gate near the temple. Those headed in carried people with hands full of supplies similar to Lily’s – fruit, incense, flowers, firecrackers, and hell money. Those headed out carried empty-handed people – some wiping away tears and some with solemn stares.

Once through the gate, it was slow moving for a good fifteen to twenty minutes as Lily’s driver had to squeeze her through the crowds of pedestrians, cars, and motorcycles.

Nearing the “top”, thoughts of similar scenes from the past few years flooded Lily’s mind. The color red mixed with the smell of firecrackers can bring back various memories for Chinese people – memories of Chinese New Year festivities, memories of weddings, and memories of other milestones. But when the sound of uncontrollable weeping is thrown into that mix, it can only mean one thing – QingMing Festival.

It never occured to Lily that naming such a day a “festival” was odd. There wasn’t much festive about it. It was a day of remembering. A day of bittersweet remembering, whether she particularly wanted to or not.

Finally reaching the top, Lily got off the motorcycle and, after paying her driver, made the final trek up a few rows of headstones and down to the one with her family name etched in the corner.

She paused, and lowered her head in quiet reflection. As quiet as she could be, at least, given the hysteria surrounding her. People were crying, praying, and lighting firecrackers all about.

After a few seconds, she laid the bouquet in place and began unpacking the apples, carefully setting them in a bowl and placing it before the tombstone.

Placing a stick of incense in the apples so as to stick straight up and out from between them, she lit the incense, knelt down with hands folded, and prayed.

“Dad…Mom…” she began. “It’s me…I miss you!”

There was a long pause as the tears began to flow and the sobbing commenced.

“Why were they taken from me so suddenly?” she thought. They died immediately along with the drunk that crashed into them that night those six years ago. “Why couldn’t it have been someone else?! Why did it have to be them?”

After regaining some of her composure, she continued.

“So much has happened since last year…”

After divulging a few of the year’s high points along with its many struggles, she bowed a couple of times. With the incense about burned to its end, she stood up, brushed off her knees, and began checking her purse to be sure she had another 30RMB for the ride home.

As she made her way through the lamenting crowds, she couldn’t help but think to herself – even over the sound of firecrackers and prayers.

“Is this it? Is this all that there is to life? Am I to be consigned to a similar fate one day myself with my prospect laid in the ground and only my future child to visit me once a year?

“Where’s the hope? Where’s the meaning in it all?” she wondered. “Is there not anything worth living for beyond the tomb?”

Just as her thoughts were getting more philosophical, the sound of a group of motorcycle taxis bidding for her ride home snapped her out of all the burning questions.

She had survived yet another personal inquisition, at least until next year…

**********

QingMing Festival, or better known as Tomb Sweeping Festival in English, is fast approaching in China. This year, it will be celebrated on Friday, April 5. The yearly holiday is a day for China’s billions to live out their Confucian beliefs concerning familial piety (devotion to family, particularly elders) by paying their respects to their deceased parents and grandparents.

This is traditionally done by bringing food – usually fruit – to the graves of the deceased so that they will have something good to eat in the afterlife. Incense is often burned while praying and worshipping, and firecrackers are often lit to scare off evil spirits that might otherwise haunt the deceased in the thereafter.

All of this is done year after year in the Spring and is a source of fear and hopelessness for many Chinese. Most of them have never heard of the other tomb. That tomb is the cause of much celebration and is also widely celebrated each Spring. Their tombs are hopeless and occupied, but that tomb is empty and points us to eternal life!

Many of them have never heard of the empty tomb of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who came into this world to die for sinners. To die so that everyone – even Chinese people – can have life and hope and joy.

While we Christians rejoice, preparing to celebrate the Resurrection of Christ in just a few short weeks, in just a few short days millions upon millions of Chinese will once again have to remember the hopelessness of life that ends in death. For them, death is all there is beyond the grave because they have never heard the glad tidings of the gospel!

This week, please pray for China’s billions. Pray that the Lord would raise up more laborers to take the message of the empty tomb to them! Pray that the believers in China would have boldness to preach the light of Christ and Him crucified and risen again amid the darkness around them so that many Chinese could be saved and find the hope of resurrection and eternal life in Him!”

“Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” (John 14:6)