God Is Red: The Secret Story of How Christianity Survived and Flourished in Communist China
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In God is Red, Chinese dissident journalist and poet Liao Yiwu—once lauded, later imprisoned, and now celebrated author of For a Song and a Hundred Songs and The Corpse Walker—profiles the extraordinary lives of dozens of Chinese Christians, providing a rare glimpse into the underground world of belief that is taking hold within the officially atheistic state of Communist China. Liao felt a kinship with Chinese Christians in their unwavering commitment to the freedom of expression and to finding meaning in a tumultuous society, even though he is not a Christian himself. This is a fascinating tale of otherwise unknown personalities thriving against all odds. God is Red will resonate with readers of Phillip Jenkins' The Lost History of Christianity and Peter Hessler's Country Driving.
a Catholic organization called Foreign Missions of Paris arrived. They changed the lives of many ordinary people. Liao: Are there more Buddhists or Christians in the Cizhong area? Jia: I think it’s half and half. We all live in the same village, share the same skin color, wear similar goatskin coats, and herd goats and farm together. So it’s quite harmonious. When we get together for dinner with our friends or neighbors, they chant their Buddhist sutras and we say our prayers to seek God’s
go hungry. But I feel more relaxed and in high spirits. When I first started praying, I used to harbor selfish thoughts. I was hoping for a miracle, as if God owed me that. As a result, I was always distracted. I would think that God was probably helpless. God wouldn’t save me. In the past forty-some years, I had lived in misery, nothing but total misery. It wasn’t easy to change completely. My minister instructed me to pray for friends and relatives, and pray for those who are caught in the
pay tribute. The guard refused. “Throughout history, you Miao people are well known for being superstitious. Who knows what will happen if we allow your family to give him a proper burial!” After Father was taken away, we refused to leave, demanding the right to collect his body. The prison officer became mad and summoned the local militia to drive us out. We did not resist them. It was already dark when we got home, and several dozen villagers were waiting for us there. They cried after hearing
left off. Our “public servants” looked attentive, nodding their heads occasionally as if they were really listening to her, so she kept preaching, but the tension was palpable. The deputy director’s phone rang four times. Each time, Liu’s face would become tense, her eyes involuntarily searching out mine. Ms. Wen’s face remained stern and enigmatic. Yuan became impatient. Twice he asked the deputy director, “Do you have any other questions for us?” His implied message was: “Please get your butts
and Mrs. Raymond Joyce, 1946 No recorded English name, 1948 Dr. Myrtle J. Hinkhouse Dr. John K. Toop Dr. William. J. Toop D. W. Burrows L. Hamer Emma Blott Dr. Watson Australian, no recorded English name Norwegian, no recorded English name This book would not have been possible without the assistance of Dr. Sun, who during a two-year period accompanied Liao on trips to the villages in Yunnan and introduced him to the Christian communities there. My thanks also goes to those brave and