A Missed Opportunity: The Failure of a Bold Project
Li Ma, Religious Entrepreneurism in China’s Urban House Churches: The Rise and Fall of Early Rain Reformed Presbyterian Church. New York: Routledge, 2020 (sic)
Note: The unusual length of this review results from the nature of the book and the controversy it has spawned. Religious Entrepreneurism (I shall use this shorter title hereafter) is a dense, complex monograph about a very complicated series of events centering upon a person with many sides to his character and conduct, and the volume has evoked a variety of criticisms. I have been able to touch briefly upon a few major points; much more could have been written.
For this review, I interviewed eight people who were either very close to the events covered in Religious Entrepreneurism or who are internationally-known scholars with a detailed knowledge of Christianity in China. Most of the interviews were conversations, but three people chose to respond to my draft and my questions in writing. In each case, I can vouch for the integrity and credibility of those whose comments form part of the background for my review. In addition, the author Li Ma kindly read and responded to a late draft of the review. Some of her comments appear as qualifying statements in what follows. As will become obvious, Ma would not agree with the overall tenor and thesis of what I have written.
The author has been called “a brilliant scholar,” and “a rising star” among younger scholars of Chinese Christianity. She and her husband Jin Li co-authored Surviving the State, Remaking the Church, a volume in the Studies in Chinese Christianity series published by Wipf & Stock, which is co-edited by Dr. Carol Lee Hamrin and this writer. That book quickly won wide acclaim.
Religious Entrepreneurship received strong endorsements from noted scholars such as Mark Noll, Richard Swedberg, and Richard Mouw, who praised it for careful research, the integration of social theory with rich ethnography, the use of “interdisciplinary lenses,” and a “highly readable narrative.”
At the same time, the book has evoked sharp criticism from a variety of people who were close to the Early Rain church (henceforth ERC). The debate about its purported merits and alleged defects has broken out into public, with both negative reviews and vigorous defenses on the Internet. For a detailed criticism of the book, see this Amazon book review.
The following discussion will try to balance an appreciation for the merits of Religious Entrepreneurship with a careful assessment of the charges leveled against both the methodology employed and the content of Ma’s narrative.
To anticipate: Though this book contains much useful information and insightful analysis, it is fundamentally flawed, shot through with errors both large and small, and to be read only with extreme caution.
The Book
First Impressions
The sub-title, The Rise and Fall of Early Rain Reformed Presbyterian Church, evokes images of the Roman Empire, originally relatively pristine and finally collapsing in an orgy of abused power and sexual license.
The Dedication, “For my sisters,” alerts us that this will be a “Me Too!” narrative, with Chinese characteristics. In an interview with a Hong Kong media outlet, Ma says that she writes “from the perspective of a female social historian. I hope to bring the voices of the vulnerable and women to the public… I think in all areas of the Chinese society, there should be female voices speaking up… What happened to me recently, including how some scholars attempting to use nonacademic means to slander me and incite mob cyber violence against me, these show the reality—if even I, as a woman scholar who published a scholarly book through a globally well-known publisher, have to face so much resistance when speaking up, how much more difficult does it take for the voices of vulnerable women in this system to be heard? How much more costs do they have to pay?” (View the text of this interview in Chinese and English.)
A brief description at the front says, “This book offers a unique historical documentation of the development of the ambitious religious entrepreneurism by leaders of the Early Rain church (and later Western China Reformed Presbytery leadership) in an effort to gain social influence in China through local institution building and global public image management.”
Introduction
The Introduction begins with a dramatic scene: the leaking of “photographs of a confidential ‘church court trial’” that “spread on the Chinese Internet and through social media. These posts sent shock waves across China’s emerging urban churches.” The next paragraph tells of police interruption of a prayer meeting, followed by videos of “Yi Wang (the pastor of Early Rain church) and some church members’ praying loudly outside the local police station, that became a heroic and celebrated image on Twitter” (1).
The rest of the book maintains this vivid tone and flows swiftly, as Ma purports to give an accurate account of how such a heroic figure could develop into someone whom she portrays as essentially driven by a hunger for power and fame, and who led his church from being a small home fellowship to China’s “iconic” house church. Along the way, we read of overweening ambition that spawned excessively rapid expansion, internal strife that eventually split the church, what Ma calls “moral bankruptcy” at the core, “suppression of dissent,” “radicalization” that led to open conflict with the government, and finally the closing of the church and Yi Wang’s detention by the police.
Methodology
Her research method includes “formal interviews, informal conversations, publicly available bulletins and online publications,” as well as “texts and conversations on social media” (12). The plethora of quotations she includes in her narrative certainly adds to its energy and consistent power to hold the reader’s attention.
Though she does “not claim to present a complete story,” it is her “earnest desire to present a balanced perspective.” Her “analysis is interdisciplinary, for, as some scholars put it, since a ‘church is a diverse, complex, and simultaneously sociocultural and theological reality,’ it ‘naturally requires boundary-cross of many disciplines’...” Ma expresses the “hope that, by integrating social theories, organization behavior research, and theological analysis, this volume will provide an important benchmark for China mission research” (13).
If consistently followed, this research method could be very productive.
Structure
The Introduction explains the clear organization of Christian Entrepreneurism. Part One follows the “consolidation phase” of Early Rain Church from 2006 to 2013. Under the charismatic leadership of Yi Wang, the congregation grew from a small house church to a sizeable congregation meeting publicly in rented space.
Part Two covers the phase of expansion from 2014 to 2016, during which a school was opened, Yi Wang’s “personal influence and fame grew nationally and internationally,” and “a core of PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) church-planters joined and consolidated power to found WCP (West China presbytery).” Meanwhile, however, some congregants felt spiritually undernourished. Fierce conflict engulfed the new school; Yi Wang and his teammate, Huasheng Wang, began to have conflicts.
Part Three follows what Ma calls the “radicalization from 2017 to 2018,” when the government closed the church and arrested Yi Wang and others, as world media presented them as heroes of “resistance under communist suppression” (15).
Thesis
“The central thesis of this book claims that the ambitious religious entrepreneurism by leaders of Early Rain church (and later WCP leadership) in an effort to gain social influence in China through local institution-building and global public image management, was undermined by an internal loss of moral authority. Such a loss was largely due to pervasive disillusionment among members about their charismatic leader Yi Wang. Claiming to uphold a Presbyterian Church governance with checks and balances, Yi Wang and other church leaders apparently adopted double standards for themselves and for congregants. Later, despite the church’s claim to publicness, corporate interest became more dominant, creating a relentless and oppressive leadership culture. Over time, a series of moral inconsistencies led to an avalanche of internal strife, manifesting inequity, over-conformity, judicial injustice, and alleged sexual abuses” (5).
The Conclusion “analytically summarizes and historicizes different phases” of this story.
“A multilevel institutional analysis explains the different social processes at different levels of social reality. Within this latter framework, the relevance of macro-level parameters (global media and the Chinese regime) implies a pervasive crisis for Christianity in a world that is paradoxically globalized and disconnected” (16).
This structure fits neatly into the pattern of good storytelling that my 10th-grade English teacher taught us: Situation, Complication, Resolution. The Resolution could be either happy or sad, and the end determines whether the story is a comedy or a tragedy. Christian Entrepreneurism is a tragedy, at least as Li Ma tells the story.
Evaluation
After reading all of this book, including the voluminous end notes, very carefully, and parts of it two or more times, I have very mixed feelings about it. I’ll begin with what I liked.
Positive
Ma’s desire to speak for vulnerable women who have been abused by church leaders is entirely laudable, especially in a male-dominated and face-obsessed culture like China’s.
The author’s use of a variety of sources, and especially quotations from Chinese social media, offers vivid evidence of the controversies that Yi Wang’s bold actions generated, not only within the church but also among Chinese Christians in other parts of the country and around the world.
Ma helpfully puts the intentional expansion and aggressive media presence of Early Rain church within the context of decades of marginalization of Christians. Many urban house church leaders thought that Christians should strive for a more public presence.
She provides a helpful analysis of how the Internet presented vast new opportunities for Christians to promote their views and to communicate with each other, making it possible to create a vibrant Christian voice in a new way, and she shows how Yi Wang made the most of this new medium.
Ma quotes an impressive array of online comments, including both criticisms and defenses of Yi Wang and the church. The extensive use of these debates is not only an essential component of her method, but a substantial contribution to our understanding of the role of the Internet in the controversies she describes, and of the various points of view that Christians from different places and perspective expressed.
Ma explains how Yi Wang and ERC sought to train his people to influence society by all that they did. The Christian school and college were means to this end, along with sermons and classes.
She raises the legitimate question of how fast a church and its ministries should grow and warns against expansion that does not come organically and with sufficient planning and preparation. Whether Yi Wang and ERC were guilty of going too fast, as Ma claims, I cannot say, but the question is an important one.
Religious Entrepreneurism exposes some of the dangers of big churches, including the difficulty of providing adequate pastoral care of the members. Elsewhere, I have argued that house churches are both the biblical norm and the most effective form of “doing” church for China. (See G. Wright Doyle, Reaching Chinese Worldwide (Torchflame Books, 2013) 142-145; and “Home Meetings - the Way Forward for Chinese Christians?”)
Li Ma also raises questions about the pitfalls of seeking a prominent public presence and boisterous attempts to gain influence in society. Again, I agree. My book Christianity in America: Triumph and Tragedy (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2013) devotes 400 pages to showing how American Christians, from the Puritans to the present, have all too often failed to be “salt and light” in society by seeking to be “savior and Lord” in their nation. That is not to say that Yi Wang coveted political power – he said he did not – but that pursuing greater influence in all domains of society brings many attendant risks. Perhaps the greatest of these is to go for quick, public recognition, rather than slow, quiet, organic transformation, starting with oneself, the family, the church, workplace, and neighborhood, working unseen as yeast in a slowly rising loaf of bread.
Yi Wang’s purported criticism of churches that subdivided into small groups after the new religious regulations came into effect in February, 2018, as a “step backward,” if accurately reported, reflects his commitment to a large, building-based, public religious organization. He is standing within the mainstream of Christian history and current practices at this point, but I believe that this view is misguided.
If accurately reported, some of Yi Wang’s public statements were, at the very least, problematic. Examples would include his equation of words from a Muslim hymn as consistent with Calvinism and his denunciation of Chinese who emigrate to other countries, including America.
If accurately reported, Yi Wang’s frequent insistence on the “absolute authority” of “an institutional local church” raises questions for most Protestants (74). Ma does note that Yi Wang warned against the abuse of authority in his earlier sermons, however.
People who know Yi Wang do agree that he was a typical strong-willed Chinese leader. He did not always take advice or wait for others before forging ahead with his ambitious projects. Especially after the church split in 2017, he changed his allegiance to a more “episcopal” style of leadership, with himself as “bishop.” We see this type of charismatic celebrity pastor in America, too. With eloquence, energy, and vision, they build an array of institutions around their congregations, as Yi Wang did.
Gifted, energetic, and charismatic pastors often over-extend themselves, attempting too much and then failing to meet the expectations of those whom they have inspired to join their growing ministries. As they acquire more and more influence, the natural human tendency to acquire more and more power. Very few people, no matter how godly, can handle too much power. Regardless of whether all of Ma’s assertions about Yi Wang are true, we can certainly believe that the concentration of power poses great temptations to abuse it.
As Ma notes, Yi Wang became so heavily involved in so many projects that he could not provide adequate pastoral care for his members. He attempted too much, without having built a strong leadership infrastructure that would have prevented some of the problems Ma describes.
Traditional Chinese culture confers great authority on leaders, especially men. One could easily imagine how the presbyterian system of government by elders could become legalistic and authoritarian. (In this review, I distinguish between “presbyterian” and “Presbyterian.” The former refers to a type of church government by elders and deacons, and, often, of an organization of churches in a group called a presbytery. The latter refers to a specific denomination, such as the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), or the self-identification of the Early Rain Reformed Church as part of the West China Presbytery, with informal links to the PCA.) Such a twisting of the original intent of the presbyterian church polity has also happened in the West, of course.
The purchase of the new campus, though perhaps legal according to the church’s new situation after the West China Presbytery was formed, took the congregation by surprise and seemed to many to be very unwise, even disastrous. One can see why the elders would not tell the people until the transaction had been completed, in order to ward off intervention by the state or cause an open conflict in the church, but one can also see how such a major decision, with so many ramifications, could shock and upset people who had no inkling that it was coming.
Likewise, some ERC policies, if accurately reported by Ma, would seem problematic, such as the by-law that gave the president of the presbytery (by which she probably means session) two votes.
Ma rightly points out the influence of one strand of neo-Calvinism upon intellectual urban house church leaders. This school properly propounds the truth that biblical Christianity has many implications for all domains of life, including politics, education, economics, and the family. In the process, however, they sometimes fail to focus on the core of Reformed theology – the so-called “doctrines of grace” – and, instead, concentrate on these secondary implications.
In adapting these important truths to the Chinese situation, some American teachers and Chinese house church leaders have sometimes seemed to forget that it took more than a thousand years for biblical principles to “produce” the American Constitution. Understandably impatient to see changes in Chinese society, a few Chinese urban house church leaders sometimes made the mistake of pushing for too much, too soon. The author questions the applicability of this “Christian civilization narrative” to China. Again, though I greatly admire the Puritans and the efforts of American Christians to influence society, I do think that we should beware of attempting too much, too fast, and of trusting in political change to reform society
Ma justifiably objects to what she calls unequal treatment of “ordinary” Christian members of the church and leaders who have been guilty of sexual misconduct. According to her, the former received public censure and discipline, while the latter were protected from open shaming and given only light discipline. In the case of the alleged rape by an elder, she notes that he received only six months’ barring from the Lord’s Supper and he was not removed from his position and ministry. If this charge is true, it does seem unfair. We must remember, however, that he was not formally charged or tried in a church court, so his offense must have been considered sexual immorality rather than rape. Still, the disparity between his light discipline and that meted out to ordinary members of the church is highly troubling.
She also raises legitimate questions about how the church dealt with married women employees when they became pregnant. Summary removal of them from their jobs, without prior policy to that effect, if accurately reported, does seem to constitute not only illegal, but also unloving, action.
It seems that Yi Wang’s hiring of Bingsen Su as principal of the Covenant Reformed School and his full support of him, if accurately reported, was problematic from start to finish.
If accurately reported, some of Su’s pedagogical methods - though not all (see below) - do seem questionable. The whole process makes Yi Wang look very bad.
Yi Wang’s decision to bring legal charges against the police (called a “jiao’an”) understandably generated sharply divergent reactions.
If accurately reported, it seems that Yi Wang increasingly broached political themes in his preaching, almost daring the authorities to stop him.
Holding prayer meetings in front of police station where Christians were detained has no biblical warrant and seems to be unnecessarily provocative. If accurately reported, Yi Wang’s stated intention “to take over this city one street at a time, one police station at a time” sounds extremely inflammatory (4).
As we know from the thousands of cases of sexual abuse among Roman Catholics, and widespread instances of abuse by Southern Baptist clergy, church leaders have sometimes been guilty not only of sexual abuse, but also of covering up such outrages. Thus, Ma’s claim that two leaders in the churches connected with Early Rain (not Yi Wang or Peng Qiang, however) were guilty of rape or sexual abuse, is plausible. She is right to call for severe penalties to be inflicted upon the guilty, and to warn against the tendency of leaders to cover up abuses.
Ma is certainly correct to point out that Western media, especially the American press, have tended to idealize Chinese house churches and their leaders, and that a “persecution narrative” has dominated all reporting on non-official Christianity in China for several decades. Brent Fulton discussed the problems with the persecution narrative in China’s Urban Christians: A Light that Cannot Be Hidden, published in the Wipf & Stock’s series, Studies in Chinese Christianity, the same series in which Ma’s Surviving the State, Remaking the Church appeared.
Likewise, Western media, and especially Christian reporting, have not often dwelt upon the faults and failings of Chinese Christians and their leaders.
These are a few of Ma’s observations that I found helpful, assuming that her account is accurate. For some thoughts on what we can learn from this book, read our review “What We Can Learn from Christian Entrepreneurism by Li Ma” at Reaching Chinese Worldwide.
What Kind of Book is Religious Entrepreneurism?
In the interview quoted earlier, Ma emphasized that Religious Entrepreneurism is a scholarly, academic work. That is certainly partly true. The book is published by Routledge, a highly regarded academic press. She has hundreds of endnotes in which she cites many sources. She employs a multi-faceted methodology. She places her narrative within a sophisticated theoretical framework, especially in the Conclusion.
On the other hand, Religious Entrepreneurism is much more than an academic study. It has features of investigative reporting, in which the reporter digs deep into many sources to find out what “really happened.” As her dedication to her “sisters” indicates, this is also very much a work of advocacy for women who are treated in ways that do not reflect their inherent worth as persons created in the image of God.
Finally, Religious Entrepreneurism is a sustained and very clever indictment of Yi Wang, much of his ministry, and his "gang," including Qiang Peng and the missionaries connected with the church and the presbytery. In other words, it is a work of polemics.
From the title to the last sentence, Ma presents a complex and comprehensive “case” against Yi Wang, his supporters, and much of what he stood for. To some degree, this corresponds to Wang Yi’s role and status as a “celebrity pastor” who played an oversized part in the leadership and public image of the church.
Negative Responses
“The first one to plead his cause seems right, until his neighbor comes and examines him.” Proverbs 18:17
Lack of Balance
Religious Entrepreneurism does not present a balanced account. On the contrary, the entire thesis is anti-Wang and his colleagues.
Ma says there were “debates,” but almost always quotes people on one side of the debate. In all the citations of interviews and Internet posts, I could find only a handful of quotations from those who supported Yi Wang and the church’s leaders. Most especially, regarding the trial of Huasheng Wang, she relies heavily on comments of Xin Fan, who represented Huasheng Wang and who vehemently denounced the proceedings of the court.
We should take into account that post-split ERC had rules barring commoners to talk with outsiders. Some contacts might have turned down the interview requests because they had to ask for permission from the top. Some may not have returned requests for interviews.
On the other hand, we should remember that:
Before these non-disclosure rules were put in place, Ma could have interviewed anyone, but she chose only to voice the criticisms of Yi Wang’s detractors
Even after the non-disclosure rules took effect, she could have interviewed Yi Wang, Qiang Peng, Guoqing Zhang, Changping Zha, and any of the missionaries whom she so sharply attacks. Instead, she did not seek to know or relate their side of the story
The non-disclosure rules applied to non-members of the presbytery who had been invited to Presbytery meetings, which are always confidential.
It is true that Yi Wang and other leaders of ERC urged their people to refrain from spreading rumors or inaccurate charges on the Internet. But, so did Huasheng Wang. They were trying to stem the flood of wild accusations and counter-accusations that were poisoning the atmosphere and muddying the debates.
Statements about Yi Wang in the last three-fourths of the book are almost all negatively couched. For example, Ma claims that after being rebuked by the presbytery, at a congregational meeting he “had no apology,” as Huasheng had. He only “appeared to shed some tears” (145). The first statement about Yi Wang is blatantly false: He did confess his sin, apologize, and ask for forgiveness. The second assertion raises a question: How does one merely “appear” to shed tears? Of course, good actors can shed tears at will, and some could have interpreted Wang Yi’s tears as, in that sense, “faked.” Furthermore, Huasheng Wang did not confess to any sin, but only to “mistakes.”
Ma frequently imputes sinister, or at least self-seeking, motives to Yi Wang. She echoes secular social scientists who claim that entrepreneurs “are inevitably driven by the desire for power, the will to succeed and the satisfaction of getting projects accomplished” (8). Accordingly, Yi Wang is portrayed as a narcissist driven by a hunger for fame and power. According to her, Western missionaries were also interested in ERC and the WCP as “a network of opportunities rather than a congregation of individuals who need to be care for” (232). Since only God knows the hearts of men, this imputation of motives is a highly questionable – not to mention unscholarly - procedure.
Ma criticizes the missionaries for not checking Yi Wang’s excesses and for describing him to their American Christian supporters in entirely positive terms. These criticisms could be partly true. Several of them were Yi Wang’s friends and colleagues, and they were trying to help guide a rapidly expanding Presbyterian movement. As guests and outsiders, they would need extreme wisdom to know when to voice concerns or criticisms.
On the other hand, it is known with certainty that these missionaries did give Yi Wang advice and occasionally spoke frankly to him. Furthermore, as members of the presbytery, they participated in discussions critical of Yi Wang and ERC and joined in the censure of him by the presbytery.
(True, missionaries generally do not criticize their local partners when they are reporting to their supporters back home. Understandably, they try to show how God is using indigenous Christians. Would we expect them to do otherwise?)
Almost all Yi Wang’s actions and the policies of ERC are interpreted negatively. For example, the very common practice of having small groups discuss the sermon, and especially its relevance to members’ personal lives, comes across as highly controlling.
The same goes for Yi Wang’s possession of pirated books. We must remember that this practice is almost universal in China, that theological books are largely unavailable to Chinese Christians, and that Yi Wang generally tried to honor copyright laws. Furthermore, there is a history to his collection of copied books. When the church/seminary library began, original editions of books in English were hard to obtain, so copied ones were used. Gradually, following a policy that strongly emphasized the ethical imperative to honor copyrights, these books were replaced by those obtained from overseas or through legal channels. In the end, they had a large collection of unauthorized books to dispose of. Rather than throwing them away, the church transferred them to Yi Wang’s office for his use in preparing articles, books, and sermons.
This is one instance among many of Ma’s telling only part of the story, or putting a more negative slant than was warranted on something she reports.
Another example: Yi Wang did say something like, “We are going to take over this city one police station at a time.” Those familiar with the context of this statement say, however, that they understood him to mean that ERC church members would use the time they spent in jail to evangelize fellow prisoners as well as police officers. The “takeover” was spiritual, not physical or political. He merely meant, these people believe, that being detained by the police could lead to the further spread of the gospel in Chengdu.
The book likewise generally uses negative or even pejorative terms when describing those who generally supported Yi Wang.
Apparent Ignorance
The author appears to be ignorant of the reasons for the common practice of Western Christian workers in China to stay away from public worship services, especially in unregistered churches. While she does accurately say that the missionaries explained that they wanted to provide worship for their children, she does not also give other obvious reasons for not attending worship services at ERC: Western Christian workers do not want to jeopardize their own positions in China by drawing attention to themselves, and they do not want to cause trouble for Chinese Christians, especially since the government often accuses them of being tools of Western imperialists.
In her account, this anonymity also leads to a form of lack of accountability.
She appears to be ignorant of Presbyterian polity. For example, she uses the word “presbytery” for both the board of elders in a local church (called the “session” by presbyterians) and for the group of elders who govern several churches in a region (the proper meaning of “presbytery”), in this case, the West China Presbytery (WCP).
This confusion may seem minor, but it affects major portions of the narrative. For example, in the Introduction, she says that many Chinese were shocked that the Early Rain Reformed Presbyterian Church “had conducted a confidential court trial of its own pastor” (1). In reality, the trial was held by the presbytery, not the session of the church. The difference is critical.
Though one can see why many Chinese would object to the “secret” trial of Wang Huasheng, Ma seems not to know that all disciplinary trials in Presbyterian churches are held in secret, to protect the rights of the accused. Repeated references to this event as “secret” thus lose their force.
She says that when ERC elders were given their office for life, they became members of an “elite” corps of leaders. She does not seem to know that normally in Presbyterian churches, elders are always chosen “for life,” unless they later violate doctrinal or ethical standards. Since much of her indictment of Yi Wang and other leaders involves their alleged “elite” status, this indication of ignorance greatly weakens her argument.
She criticizes Early Rain Church for purchasing the Baihua sanctuary without a congregational vote, but does not seem to know – or did not want to note – that the church had adopted the presbytery’s by-laws a year before, and that these had replaced the church’s bylaws and allowed for the purchasing of the property with only a vote of the elders.
Ma notes in the Introduction, and often later, that many outsiders were surprised and dismayed when they learned of the “splitting-style church planting” that had led to the formation of two congregations out of one. She - and they - apparently did not know that this way of starting new churches out of existing ones is very common. Indeed, as she ought to know, “church splitting” is not the proper translation of fen tang. In English, “church splitting” has an entirely negative connotation, one that is lacking in ordinary “Christian” Chinese usage. For many years, I attended a Presbyterian Church in Taiwan that grew by establishing new meeting points, which they called “fen tang.”
Ma is either ignorant of this common way of growing a church or she deliberately chose to employ a negative English term for a neutral and even positive Chinese phrase.
Now, it is true that the sudden manner in which Yi Wang announced and effected this split caused great confusion and controversy, and led to his censure by the presbytery. The eventual split was, sadly, deep and rancorous. Still, the method itself should not have drawn Ma’s fire.
To take another example, she cites the Christian Science Monitor as a “Christian media” outlet. She should know that the Christian Science Journal, though highly respected, is not a “Christian” publication. This is a small mistake, but it adds to the overall garbled attack on journalists in general.
In her critique of the pedagogy employed by Bingsen Su in the Covenant Reformed School, she describes their “classical” education as “often meaning ‘old,’” and cites his use of McGuffey’s Readers, “an old series of textbooks used in American schools from the mid-19th century” (118). She apparently does not know that these readers had been widely popular in the home-school movement and the Classical Education movement in the United States for several decades. They had a proven record of training children to read increasingly advanced material for more than a hundred years, and continue to be chosen as textbooks even now. (Having heard my father, who was educated in the early 1900s, praise McGuffey’s Readers, I purchased a set in the 1990s when I was homeschooling our daughter. I soon learned why they are still so highly regarded by educators.) Ma’s ignorance of the provenance and popularity of the Readers clearly informed – or mis-informed – her criticism of Bingsen Su.
Nor does the author seem to know that the Classical Education method stresses rote memorization for a variety of reasons. Su may have gone overboard in this, but the method itself has proven value.
Inconsistencies
Ma repeatedly criticizes Yi Wang for sermons that focused almost entirely on politics. How does this square with her statement that “William” (a pseudonym), the one missionary of whom she approves and whom she interviewed, was “impressed with the…‘thick’ preaching of Reformed doctrines” (113)? These doctrines would include the doctrines of grace, as we shall see.
The “Persecution Narrative”
Until very recently, I joined with Brent Fulton and others at ChinaSource to challenge this “persecution narrative.” In a chapter on China in Sorrow and Blood: Christian Mission in Contexts of Suffering, Persecution, and Martyrdom, edited by William D. Taylor and others (2012) and in an article called, “Are Chinese Christians Being Persecuted?” published on the Global China Center website, I argued that persecution, though common and brutal in the past, had given way to unprecedented freedom for most of China’s “house church” Christians.
In early 2018, however, as Li Ma records at several points in her book, as part of a new trend in which the “regime’s tolerance towards any Christian engagement reversed to a historic low,” China rolled out new regulations on religious activity (6). These outlawed many activities that, though technically illegal, had been allowed for a decade (or even two decades, depending on the region). Since then, the authorities have pursued a systematic campaign to eliminate unauthorized Christian activities, including public meetings and Internet postings. (As a result, I have since taken down the article from our website.)
Ma notes this in her text, but in her chapter on Western media she writes as if persecution were entirely a thing of the past, when nothing could be farther from the truth. This is strange, for her book covers events up to the end of 2018 and she states clearly that the government had started a comprehensive campaign against house churches.
She falsely accuses Ian Johnson, author of The Souls of China, of relying on only one source (see below), but her account of the trial of Huasheng Wang comes from the testimony of only one person, the man who represented Huasheng Wang at the event.
She falsely states that Ian Johnson was not “embedded” in the church community (see below), while in fact she did not live in Chengdu or attend ERC during most of the period she describes in her book (2014 – 2018). She had lived there while doing research on an earlier book and for the first part of this volume, which may partly explain why the first section of her narrative contains many fewer errors than the last three-fourths of the book.
Radical Openness
The author often notes that Yi Wang and others claimed that the ERC sought “radical transparency, making his sermons available online and giving the police names of people who attended Early Rain” (206, quoting an article by Ian Johnson), but she sharply criticizes Yi Wang and leaders of the WCP for “creating nondisclosure agreements during major church governance decision.”
Clearly these two actions are of a different nature; it is like comparing apples and oranges. Seeking to keep some internal matters within the church, especially when outsiders were voicing strong opposition, is different from allowing the government access to sermons and names of members.
Religious Entrepreneurism Omits Much Vital Information
Though the author gives extensive treatment to the ethical, social, and political teachings of Yi Wang and his team, she almost entirely fails to discuss any other content of their messages. Since Reformed churches almost always give prominence to what they call the “doctrines of grace,” that is, the teachings that emphasize God’s sovereign grace in the salvation of sinners, it is incredible that the ERC pulpit would not treat these core themes.
The “doctrines of grace” (plural) are often summarized by the acronym TULIP: Total depravity, Unconditional election, Limited atonement, Irresistible grace, and Perseverance of the saints. These are the “heart and soul” of Reformed theology, and, as William said, constituted the content of at least some of Yi Wang’s preaching; others have confirmed this fact. Ma nowhere mentions this as part of his ministry, though she does note that the Westminster Catechism was widely circulated among the congregation and presumably formed an underlying set of common beliefs.
When Yi Wang examined men for church office or interviewed candidates for baptism, he did stress the importance of the Reformed doctrines of grace.
Another crucial omission is Yi Wang’s explicit statement that he was not aiming for changes in the governmental structure of China. By failing to include this sentence, Ma significantly misrepresents Wang’s “political” statements.
Ma says that William was the only one of the American missionaries who “was willing to participate in the church life of local Chinese” and to attend the worship services of ERC (113). This claim is both misleading and false. She does not tell us that William is a Korean-American, and thus could attend worship services without drawing attention to himself, while at least some of the others, being Caucasian, would have immediately been identified. Furthermore, one of the other missionaries, although Caucasian, attended Sunday worship services faithfully.
Ma gives the impression that these missionaries were not involved with the congregation, but this is not true. One of the missionaries had regular Bible with elders and deacons, and his wife had a regular “tea-and-Bible-study” with women in the church.
Besides, how can we know the motives of others without asking them directly? But Ma never asked the other missionaries why they didn’t attend worship services at ERC.
She presents only one side of the complex story of the ecclesiastical trial of Wang Huasheng. Since this event occupies such a major part of her narrative, not to have both sides represented is an omission fatal to her claim to be “balanced” and “nuanced.”
Perhaps her worst omission involves her treatment of an alleged cover up of an alleged rape.
In her text and in the Conclusion, she states flatly that Yi Wang, Qiang Peng, and their wives were guilty of a cover-up of at least two alleged rapes. But she presents only one account of the conversations between the alleged victim of rape and Qiang Peng and his wife Ou Wang. Here I am not denying that the man was guilty of rape. That is not the main point. The real question is whether Peng (and Yi Wang) were guilty of a cover-up. She has only called one witness – for the prosecution – and none for the defense. She could have interviewed Peng and his wife, but she didn’t. Why? Clearly, she believed in the account by this woman. That is her right, but failure to interview Peng and his wife does considerably weaken a major part of her “case” against Yi Wang and Qiang Peng.
Still, the crux of the matter is whether, as charged, these leaders and their wives willfully tried to deny a fair hearing to the woman, and perhaps to several others. That charge has been denied, and it has not been proven by Ma, only stated. Though she narrates several incidents in detail (188-99), her accounts, while giving the reader a strong impression of the credibility of her charges, don’t give us a chance to know the other side of these stories. She may have corroborating evidence, but, if so, hasn’t included it in her book. Ma does say that Qiang Peng offered to take the rape charge to the presbytery court. When she declined this offer, he had little else he could do to help her. We can understand the woman’s reluctance to go through formal channels, but that does not justify Ma’s one-sided and unsubstantiated accusations of a cover-up.
Qiang Peng has a reputation for the very highest integrity and consistent Christian character. When I asked one of his close friends to find out Peng’s side of the story for this review, he replied, “I would be embarrassed even to ask. He would never do such a thing.”
That doesn’t mean that Peng or his wife may not have spoken words that could have been misleading or even unkind, but it does put the burden of proof on Li Ma to provide testimony from all the parties involved in this sad event.
Unnecessary – and Harmful – Inclusions
Though giving a pseudonym for “William,” who opposed Yi Wang, Ma provides the full names of three American-based Christian workers whom she associates with the pro-Wang camp, and whom she frequently criticizes. When called out on this, she replied that people who are “public” do not have to be protected by anonymity, as seen in the interview cited earlier: “If these individuals and organizations publicize about themselves on various websites, media, and conferences, why does it become a threat once they appear in my book?” In short, “I am not concerned about their sensational charges that this book revealed their secrets and harmed their safety. This is a book about facts and historical happenings.”
First of all, each of these persons carefully sought to keep their institutional and organizational positions and affiliations unknown. In no sense were these facts made “public,” as Ma asserts.
The question is, moreover, whether the “facts” are accurately and fairly recorded.
Ma criticizes the three people (“PCA ministers”) whose names she reveals for not regularly attending ERC worship services. As their staying away from public worship indicates, they were trying to keep a very low profile while in China. Her exposure of their names probably means that they can no longer operate freely in China. She says that she quoted their statements on public sources, but this does not negate the fact that she revealed vital information about their organizational affiliations that had hitherto not been made public, including Tim Mountfort’s position with MTW and Enoch Wang’s role in the China Partnership.
The same is true for her identification of Mountfort as connected with China Partnership. CP is a public organization, to be sure, but it did not publicize the identify of people in China who were associated with it.
Contrary to journalistic ethics concerning the rights of vulnerable people, she has revealed the names of men whom she accuses of rape, but who have not been formally charged or convicted of this crime, either by the state or by the church.
Despite her assertion to the contrary (14), Ma has been accused of also failing to gain permission from several people, whom she quotes, to use their names in her book. At least six very prominent sources for her narrative, including two who were critical of Yi Wang, have said to people whom I interviewed that they were told that they would see and be given the chance to approve their remarks in her text but were not shown the final text before submission to the publisher. Ma also betrayed their trust by misquoting what several of them said. This is a violation of the fundamental ethics of both journalism and writing contemporary history.
Distortion of Documentary InformatiON
Someone who has compared Ma’s text with relevant documents, claims that she “intentionally chooses sections of the Presbytery’s commission and keeps out other very key areas to help fit her narrative. She also seems to have intentionally mistranslated certain sections of documents or flat out mischaracterized them to fit the narrative she came up with.
“One prime example is the discipline that was carried out by the presbytery on Wang Huasheng and Wang Yi. She said that they did not discipline Wang Yi and only disciplined Wang Huasheng and she quotes the commission’s finding document. She also [says that] Paul Peng in a regional gathering only criticized Huasheng in reading the document, [but] she failed to point out that Wang Yi was in fact disciplined by the presbytery and he was in fact mentioned first in the document because he was the senior pastor. The commission disciplined him, he accepted the discipline, and apologized to Huasheng at Presbytery and also read a statement before his congregation in tears apologizing” (personal correspondence with the writer, August 20, 2019).
Ma faults Ian Johnson for not being “embedded” in the church, when his book (The Souls of China) clearly states that he lived in Chengdu and attended church events for several months at a time.
Errors
The author does mention “the doctrine of grace” one time, but this is not what Reformed preachers call their distinctive views of soteriology. “Doctrines of grace” is the term they use.
Ma asserts that after his visit to New York’s Redeemer Presbyterian Church (PCA), pastored by Timothy Keller, he “identified with the Christian Right as defined in the West” (68). This statement is highly misleading. The Christian Right is a movement with many aspects to it and a history of several decades. At no time has Timothy Keller identified himself with the Christian Right, except perhaps in the minds of uninformed critics on the political Left. In fact, he is criticized by many on the Christian Right for his relatively “liberal” views on some social questions.
The Chinese names for Charles Chao’s Reformation Translation Fellowship and his son Jonathan Chao’s China Ministries International are incorrectly translated (72).
The English name of Pastor Lin Cixin is wrongly given as Samuel Lin, rather Samuel Ling, the name he uses in all his writings.
Enoch Wang was not a PCA minister. He was ordained as a Teaching Elder by the West China Presbytery. He was thus not an “American missionary.” He is a Chinese citizen.
She writes that the “Presbyterian missionaries were in fact accountable to no one” (232). Although it is true that it is hard to exercise close control of missionaries on the field, in this case her statement is almost entirely false. Obviously, she does not understand how mission agencies, or at least the PCA’s Mission to the World, operate. There are, in fact, several ways by which missionaries are held accountable.
First, they are accountable to their own team of fellow missionaries. As associate members of the WCP, they could be expelled by a simple vote. They could exercise influence in the church or the presbytery only by moral character, friendship, and persuasion.
Additionally, they are accountable to their sending organization, in this case the Mission to the World of the PCA. In one major case, when a fellow missionary criticized another, he was invited to take the case to the highest level of MTW leadership. After a thorough review, his accusations were thrown out as completely unfounded. (Indeed, the entire paragraph is replete with unsubstantiated generalizations dressed up in fancy terms like “information asymmetry.”)
Lest one think that MTW always looks the other way when its missionaries are faced with serious allegations of misconduct, it is important to note that in recent years the mission organization has recalled several of its workers from the field after reviewing the charges. This is not a rubber-stamp process.
Ma states that the missionaries connected with the PCA brought foreign money to the church. This contradicts not only Yi Wang’s policy of not receiving foreign funding, as noted on page 204, but also the policy of MTW not to provide money to local churches. She speaks vaguely of tightening up on “overseas funds transfer, education resources and foreigners’ participation,” (170) but her footnote only references a general statement by the China Partnership on how to respond to the new religious regulations in China. It gives no support to the false assertion that foreign missionaries brought foreign money to ERCC.
How many more of her notes would lead down a similar blind alley?
Careful comparison of her criticisms of the writings of Ian Johnson with the actual texts reveals a similar pattern of misquoting, taking sentences out of context, hiding essential information contained in the documents she discusses, confusing chronology, and outright contradiction of plain statements in those writings. There are at least a dozen examples of this kind of falsification.
For example: She claims that Ian Johnson relied on only one source, but the text and notes of his book name at least six persons whom he interviewed, and show that he spoke to others who attended church services.
Ma criticizes Johnson for praising Yi Wang, but neglects to say that he also recorded criticisms of him. She gives the impression that he overlooked the splits within the church, while failing to point out that the major conflicts arose after the publication of The Souls of China. Indeed, the entire section of her book criticizing foreign media coverage of China’s house churches, though containing a few accurate observations, is marred by so many inconsistencies, misrepresentations, and factual errors that one wonders what was animating this attack on journalists.
For more examples of errors and (apparently) deliberate misquotation and omission, some of them from documents in Chinese, see this Amazon book review.
Ma claims that the writer of the review and other critics had not read her book, but at least this review seems to reflect a careful study of Religious Entrepreneurism.
These tactics are so egregious, blatant, and numerous that they could only have been intentional and deliberate. That is, they go beyond the general sloppiness of much of Ma’s reporting, and seem designed only to advance her narrative and support her case.
There are other errors that could easily have been avoided by more careful writing and closer editing. These include so many mistakes of grammar and English usage that I had to stop marking them in my copy. There are at least hundreds of these in what claims to be a scholarly book published by a renowned academic press. In addition, knowledgeable people have said that her account includes numerous errors of chronology. Some of these are relatively minor, but others, involving both the sequence of events in the conflicts narrated and her harsh attack on Ian Johnson’s writings, make a difference.
Ma’s Response to Criticism
In the interview referenced earlier, Ma fiercely attacked the writer of the critical review at Amazon Books cited above. She claims that the writer, who calls himself “Deng,” is clearly writing anonymously. That may be true. The real question is whether the writer’s charges are accurate. All the accusations are based on a close reading of her book and from public documents. Furthermore, many of the sources quoted by Ma are also anonymous. People can have various reasons, including the fear of public denunciation by a skilled polemicist, for withholding their names. That may be why some of the people whom I interviewed did not want their names revealed. They have seen how she responded to the critical review referenced earlier.
Inconsistencies
In response to criticism that she revealed the names of people, Ma emphasized her reliance on public documents and the right to speak openly about public people who are public persons, but she also relied heavily on private, and essentially anonymous, interviews as part of her research method.
Ma claims that the WCP “became the extension of his personal will” (216). How, then, could the presbytery condemn Yi Wang for his actions? In fact, WCP often disagreed with Yi Wang.
She roundly excoriates Western journalists, including (by implication) Ian Johnson, for not being “embedded” in the Chinese context, and therefore not being able to understand the true situation. But she was not “embedded” either. As noted earlier, though she had lived in Chengdu for a few months in previous years, she didn’t live in Chengdu or attend Early Rain Church during the period when the conflict that she describes took place. Johnson, on the other hand, spent several months in the city and in the church.
She criticizes Ian Johnson for purportedly relying on only one pro- Yi Wang source, but, as noted above, she draws most of her description of the trial of Huasheng Wang from only one anti-Yi Wang source. As the notes to Johnson’s book The Souls of China, make clear, he interviewed a variety of people with a variety of viewpoints.
She repeatedly characterizes Johnson as a “journalist,” with the implied contrast to herself as a “scholar,” but she ignores the academic nature of his work The Souls of China, which meets the highest standards of scholarship. The Wikipedia article on him states that “his reporting from China was also honored in 2001 by the Overseas Press Club and the Society of Professional Journalists. In 2017 he won Stanford University's Shorenstein Prize for his body of work covering Asia. In 2019 he won the American Academy of Religion's ‘best in-depth newswriting’ award.” ”He is not just any “journalist,” as Ma implies.
Ma calls Johnson an American, which is only half true. Furthermore, as his bio shows, Johnson was born and brought up in Canada, where he is also a citizen, and he has spent very little of his life in the United States. He lived in China for twenty years, as Ma could have known from public documents, and should have said.
After quoting from one of Yi Wang’s prayers, she writes that he “was skilled at using parallel texts to set off a poetic grand discourse that has little internal logic” (73). Again, this statement is partly true, in that Wang is a prolific poet whose sermons did not necessarily follow the usual pattern of biblical exegesis taught in the West. On the other hand, the quote she adduces as evidence of having “little internal logic” does not illustrate her point. More seriously, as I have tried to show, her own book lacks internal logic at key points.
For example: the long and detailed narrative Ma included from the perspective of a woman who had allegedly been raped by an elder in the ERC (187-190). This account is meant to show that Qiang Peng and his wife engaged in a cover-up of the incident. But Ma also records Peng’s offer to take the matter to the presbytery court. If that is true, how can we believe that he was deliberately trying to cover up the incident, as she repeatedly charges in her book?
Lack of Nuance
Li Ma says she wanted to present a nuanced account of the rise and fall of ERC and its controversial pastor Yi Wang. Sadly, the result is anything but subtle and balanced. Instead, Yi Wang comes across, as I said earlier, as obsessed with personal power and fame. Though admittedly eloquent in speech and writing, and skilled in deploying various media to fashion a positive public image, Wang is portrayed as a flat, two-dimensional figure.
She does admit that he has a happy marriage, but does not seem to wonder how such a thoroughly unscrupulous and self-seeking man could retain the love and loyalty of his wife. Ma does not seem to entertain the possibility that at any point he could have been motivated by a desire for God’s glory, the healthy growth of the church in China, or the good of Chinese society.
In contrast, one person said to me, “I’ve known Wang Yi for fifteen years. I have worked with many Chinese pastors, but none has possessed as much integrity as he” (telephone conversation with the writer, September 22, 2019). He continued, “Wang is a very complex and complicated person, but Ma turns him into someone else.” Another long-time associate said, “He made mistakes, for sure, but his heart was pure.”
Bias
Although no historical narrative can be fully objective, sometimes an author’s biases may exercise an undue impact upon the recitation and interpretation of the facts.
Li Ma clearly does not agree with the traditional views of the role of women in the church. She labels these as “anachronistic doctrines” (12). That is her right, of course. But the PCA Book of Church Order limits the offices of elder and deacon to men. This position was almost universally held in Christian churches until very recently. It is still the rule among Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and many theologically conservative Protestant denominations. Proponents of this view base their position on a number of biblical texts that seem to deny certain offices and activities – such as preaching from the pulpit – to women.
Ma also does not agree with traditional views of the role of women in the home. These ideas, sometimes called “complementarian” now, were the norm in most societies and Christian churches until very recently, and were also based upon biblical texts. Li Ma is clearly what would now be called an “egalitarian.” She thus objects strongly to the increasingly strict positions and policies of Yi Wang and ERC reflecting traditional beliefs. She writes about this development in a pejorative style that reflects her bias.
Ma says that Huasheng Wang never received a reply from the PCA to his letter about his trial. This charge is not true; the assistant stated that the clerk of the PCA did respond. I have seen a copy of this reply.
Accurate Reporting?
By now, the reader will understand why I prefaced several statements in the earlier part of this review with, “if accurately reported.” I cannot check all of her assertions, some of which seem plausible to me. On the other hand, she makes so many false statements, big and small, that I cannot accept even the most plausible charge or apparent quotation as necessarily reflective of the facts.
Timing of Publication
A number of people have wondered why this book was published while Yi Wang was under arrest on charges of a capital crime. Li Ma has replied, “This book took more than ten years to come out. The publisher had the right to decide when it is released.” That statement is very misleading. Her research may have taken ten years, but the book was submitted to the publisher after Yi Wang had been arrested. Her claim not to have had any control over the timing of its publication is not fully persuasive. In fact, from the time of its submission to publication, it was only a few months. The book came out in the spring of 2019, which is very, very fast. Perhaps that is why it shows so many signs of haste and lack of editing and proofreading.
One of the leading Chinese authorities on the church in China said of this book:
“In fact, I couldn’t and still cannot understand why she seemed to have rushed to get the book out, before the end of the sixth month of Wang Yi’s secret detention (secret detention usually has a maximum length of six months, then the case has to be moved from the police bureau to the prosecutors bureau. But the Wang Yi case is not usual, so he has been held in a secret place for almost ten months by now without access by his family or lawyers). The timing of the book’s release and the severe accusations of Wang Yi and other church leaders in the book made me wonder whether she intentionally wanted the book to be used to facilitate the Chinese authorities’ prosecution of Pastor Wang Yi. If this is the intention, it is a serious violation of research ethics. In the US, prison inmates are treated as a vulnerable population and there are extra requirements for human subject protection measures when applying to study them. In short, I have serious concerns about the research ethics of this book” (Personal correspondence with the writer. October 3, 2019).
Bob Fu, president of ChinaAid, who has known Yi Wang for many years, says the book is “very unbalanced. Too speculative. In the midst of severe persecution against Wang Yi and the church, for Ma Li’s book to be released with some serious charges without giving the accused an opportunity to rebuttal is very irresponsible too.”
A Scholarly Book?
The authority on Christianity in China quoted in the section above wrote to me that (after reading Religious Entrepreneurism):
[He] “was totally surprised by Ma Li’s new book. I’m very disappointed, to say the least… I read it from cover to cover…in the beginning of July. Honestly, I don’t see much scholarly value or Christian value or any value in this book. There is so much hearsay about Wang Yi and the Early Rain Church in social media already, and the book does nothing but amplify some of the hearsay; it used one-sided interviews, and made a biased interpretation of events. A serious researcher should have taken the time and done a much more careful job in terms of research, should have tried hard to hear and understand all parties in church conflicts. In short, in my view, this is not a scholarly book.”
A person very close to the situation wrote to me:
“Ma Li could have done everyone a great service by interviewing both sides of the split and giving a balanced, detailed account of some of the key issues alongside a thoughtful analysis. Instead she literally ignores, discredits and even slanders everyone in the Wang Yi ‘camp’ including locals, missionaries and respected journalists. I know of one well respected elderly woman from the non-Wang Yi ‘camp’ that stated ‘Ma Li’s knowledge of the situation is superficial and her book is nonsense’” (personal correspondence with the writer, August 16, 2019).
When you consider the other flaws mentioned earlier, including misuse of published sources; the pejorative language; plethora of errors, some based on ignorance but others obviously preventable; violation of journalistic ethics concerning vulnerable persons; countless mistakes of grammar and English usage – plus an index that is very thin, sparse, and very incomplete – many will conclude that Religious Entrepreneurism fails substantially as a purportedly scholarly and academic work. The high price of $46 (from Amazon; the publisher charges more) does not seem justified.
Conclusion
As I said at the beginning, Religious Entrepreneurism contains much useful information and many helpful insights. It employs a methodology that, if applied consistently, could have resulted in a work of lasting value.
Instead, the shortcomings of the book greatly outnumber and outweigh its strengths. It is fundamentally flawed in so many ways that it must be read with extreme caution.