Peace to you, brothers and sisters who are in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day. (Rev. 1:10) 

Yesterday, my former school sent me a message asking me to complete the procedures for transferring my personnel file and social security information. The school’s Party Secretary said, “We waited for three years, but when we heard that you were ordained, we figured you wouldn’t be coming back.” He also told me that in the past year, two more students committed suicide by jumping from buildings. Are there any universities in Chengdu that have not had a student commit suicide in any given year? “Hypothetically,” I said, “if Chengdu University ever needs a chaplain, perhaps you can ask my church to send me back to you.”

Just before last Lord’s Day, I texted a teacher asking him whether he was coming to church. He responded, “Because I am a teacher, I must teach my students; otherwise, I would be letting them down. To insist on worshiping on the Lord’s Day is legalistic.”

I replied, “If you truly believe that Jesus is the Messiah, if you truly believe that the Kingdom of Heaven has come, then when you see students killing themselves every year, you must wonder whether you have already done something to let them down.”

Why did the monks of the early church believe that by entering the desert, they were blessing the city; that by fasting, they were feeding the church; that by withdrawing from the crowds, they were serving them?

Why don’t we believe that by skipping worship on the Lord’s day, we are letting down the very students who attend make-up classes? Or that by missing church, we are letting down the innumerable young people who join the Party? Or that by not setting ourselves apart from the world, we are letting down this world that needs the gospel?

Yes, the Reformed faith believes in and encourages believers to serve society and renew culture. But while the world thinks that we influence society by cooperating with it, Christ chose to do so by a means that was completely unexpected by all who followed him—the mystery of the cross.

For the past two thousand years, who has most exemplified noncooperation with society? Christ. And what is the pinnacle of that noncooperation? The cross of Christ.

And yet, for the past two thousand years, who has most exemplified the transformation of society? Christ. And what is the pinnacle of that transformation? The cross of Christ.

This is the mystery of the gospel, that through noncooperation, it transforms the uncooperative; that through suffering, it attracts those who suffer.

So I said to this believer, “Suppose that, for the sake of the gospel, you refused to make up classes on the Lord’s Day and declared this to your students and to the school. If because of this, you were suspended, demoted, or—if the Lord permits—even dismissed, would not the spiritual shockwaves left by this ‘final lesson’ in the souls of your students far surpass all that you might have otherwise taught them in class? Ten years from now, when one of these students finds himself breaking up with a lover, losing a job, or standing on the edge of a building, might he not suddenly remember that he once had a teacher who faced similar trials?

“And if you say, ‘That is beautiful, but I could never do it,’ I would say, ‘Yes, neither can I. But the Lord knows, and He is merciful. How about we admit like children that we can’t, instead of deceiving ourselves and society with worldly values or spiritual-sounding excuses?”

Imagine if ten million Christians in China had the faith to nonviolently refuse to cooperate—to refuse to allow public holidays to supplant the Lord’s Day,[1] to refuse to work overtime on the Lord’s Day. Dear brothers and sisters, by next year—or the year after at the latest—this practice of rescheduling work for the holidays would no longer be sustainable in this country. The church of the Lord holds tremendous power, but that power is revealed only through suffering.

What is evangelism? What is our mission? The blessings of the gospel are revealed to this society through noncooperation with it. If some believers are unwilling to lose their jobs for the sake of the gospel, how can they even speak of missions? Faithfulness to the gospel does not mean that we disregard God’s law. Rather, it means that we speak of it in terms of the gospel, not in terms of the law. For the law serves as the blueprint of our sanctification, the conduit of our evangelism, and the driving force of our mission.

In this crooked and perverse generation, I must assert that “nonviolent noncooperation” is the church’s fundamental posture toward the world. Nonviolent noncooperation means enduring personal and collective humiliation, loss, persecution, and even death—this is the eternal way of the cross for the church until Christ returns.

The path by which the church influences society is not that of the Nobel Peace Prize, but of Jesus Christ and him crucified. Christians who refuse to walk the way of the cross do not long for Christ’s return. Those who try to influence society by cooperating with it are re-crucifying Christ.

Therefore, let the church of the Lord declare: No matter what the Constitution and laws dictate, we will worship God on the Lord’s Day. No matter what the Constitution and laws dictate, we will assemble, publish, and preach. No matter what the Constitution and laws dictate, we will educate our children according to the Bible. If the Lord permits, we will live for this; if the Lord permits, we will die for this.

Nonviolent noncooperation means abandoning the ideology of “rights.”

Nonviolent noncooperation means proclaiming the coming of the Kingdom.

Nonviolent noncooperation means waging war against the evil within our own hearts.

Nonviolent noncooperation means devoting ourselves to the mission of the gospel.

Nonviolent noncooperation means confessing the way of the cross.

Your brother who longs to walk the way of the cross with you, awaiting the Lord’s return,

Wang Yi, Easter 2012.

[1] Editor’s Note: In mainland China, when there is a major public holiday, schools and government offices close, but the government requires students and employees to make up for this lost time by working on Saturdays and Sundays.