Religion in China: In Bits and Pieces

China’s religious history is deep and wide. Often this is forgotten in the recent context of communism, but Chinese philosophy includes a thread of spiritual powerhouses long ranging past Confucius and Lao Tzu, cultivating a depth of belief that far surpasses the simplicity of isms. It’s full of remarkable insight and can, when applied appropriately, provide a critical balance to much of the Western philosophical and religious tendencies that often dominate our world view. Chinese philosophy isn’t a full picture of the human religious experience, but it broadens and deepens the experience in distinctive and essential ways. It’s my hope that it will emerge in a more relevant way at the global level in the coming years as it advises well on the issues of environment, morality and relationships.

When I arrived in China, my religious studies curiosities (full of potential energy and latent like Kundalini since my college days) piqued sharply. Chinese philosophy plays an important part in the puzzle of human spirituality and given the recent history of nationalized communism since 1949 and relative liberalization since the late 70’s, what an opportunity to be here to see a country in an interesting patch of it’s philosophical history.

Given my focus in Nanjing and Shanghai, I thought my visit might be relatively unspiritual in nature, as religious activity can often be pushed to the countryside, which often fosters more traditional aspects of life. Somehow, when I conjured up images of modern cities in China, I just didn’t see spirituality playing an integral role socially, architecturally or in any other way.

Much of this supposition was justified. Religion doesn’t smack you in the face the way it would walking around Amsterdam, London, Mumbai or Pune. But that’s what’s curious about China. It’s not a country that works in the obvious.* She can when she wants to do so, but in general, it’s a culture of subtlety. It’s about what’s just underneath the surface.

In many ways, this suits my own personal taste in religion. While I enjoy the loudness of a massive basilica or the thump in a bass drum at church, I often prefer religion in quiet or even silent contemplation. But quiet, alas, is often a hard thing to find – especially in a Chinese city. So I set out on an armchair research project to learn more about what shape religion is taking in these cities. My answers came in a number of snapshots throughout my three weeks.

In the Buddhist temple I mentioned a couple weeks back, what caught me by complete surprise was the fact that it was full of common people praying. Usually religious heritage sites are primarily for tourists and devoid of any lively spiritual action. That’s typically left to the odd monk or priest. Sometimes its even the responsibility of the inanimate sculpture and other religious art in the sacred space. Remarkably, this place had few tourists and was full of earnest believers. At times I even felt out of place entirely, as I was not praying and found myself amidst many people who were devoutly following the rituals of their faith.

To my amazement (and to show just how many people live here), there are 70 million Christians in China (To compare, that’s 10 million more people than in all of Italy). The state sponsors a church, whose priests must submit sermons and reports to party members and bureaucrats for review and passage. Those who wish to practice in other settings are forced “underground”. I met one man from Taiwan who attends one such church for internationals only. Since the congregation includes ex-pats from throughout Asia and Europe, they receive little harassment from the government. But he told me that they still need to shift meeting places (congregation of about 300) frequently and when its particularly hot, they move week to week.

For those native Chinese, this “underground” church becomes increasingly fraught with danger. I heard that most don’t see it as a major risk, but they do operate with careful attention. Home churches in the “underground movement” rarely grow beyond 15 before factioning off again to keep numbers low and mobility high. This often presses highly educated Christians to take on the responsibility of teaching/preaching even without any proper training. Natural leaders in the group often emerge as the spiritual guides of the home churches. This can lead to an increasingly diversified understanding of the message.**

For those who believe (and perhaps rightly so) that the internet has developed its own system of religious idiosyncrasies and rituals, I was caught off guard one day when I went searching on youtube for some old comedy sketches to forward to a friend. To my surprise, the web address didn’t connect to anything. I checked a couple of times and never got through. Quickly, I surfed through a few pages and found out that China had suspended youtube indefinitely. The Dalai Lama’s Tibetan Government in Exile had made a video of last year’s riots in Lhasa (the capital of Tibet). China rejected the video as a farce (a compilation of footage from other events). Because it had been posted on youtube, youtube was therefore banned in China.

I was in Nanjing for tomb-sweeping day. It’s the day when children visit the gravesites of their parents and other ancients to pay their respects. Honoring ancestors is an incredibly important practice in China. Aside from visiting the graves during this annual celebration, ancestors are often remembered by presenting offerings. It’s common to see the ancestral religion in ritual on the street. People will buy fake money and effigies of cars, houses – even laptops and cell phones. When burned they are meant to be passed on to the deceased as they journey on to the next life.

I spoke with a young attorney and young insurance man over a huge Shanghai dinner the other night. Of the many issues we covered, one that surprised me was their perspective on faith. They both mentioned that they wished religion, faith or at least some deeper sense of spirituality would make a come back in China. While not over-zealous or even religious themselves, both felt that there was a need to provide for the spiritual element of the population. In their current view, the spiritual identity was leaving China and it was time for a return to a balance in the culture.

Spiritual life in China exists in the subtleties. It’s not glamorous or obvious. At times it’s hardly even recognizable. But when asked in private, most will respond with an opinion about religion and spirituality and its place in the society. My hope is that elements of Chinese spirituality will continue to emerge (even if only quietly for now) and once again play an important role in the way the people treat themselves, treat one another, treat their enemies and treat the earth.

*One of the most endearing factors of Chinese culture. I once had an artist explain to me the difference between Eastern and Western art, citing a visual example of still art. She proposed that Western art focuses on the point of climax: like the flower at the apex of its bloom or a sunset sky at its deepest saturation. While Eastern art often aims to capture the moment just before the climax or just after: like an apple just about to be ripe or a tree with its leaves jut beginning to weep.

**Curiously, this is quite similar to the development of the early church following the death of Jesus. Although those early churches were more communal in nature, they too shared the difficulties of a suspicious government. Often, this meant that teachings were disseminated by lay people in these smaller group which were often widespread and not always communicative with one another. This led to many different understandings and emphasis in the faith as it developed in the wake of oppression. It took several hundred years for the canon to develop and a more systematized theology to take shape from the original “home church” movement.