Christianity is alive and well in China!!

Sunday 27 May

We're going to a Christian church service this morning. We've already been shown where the church is, just around the corner from our hostel, and have been told that the service is from 10 am to 11 am.

Reg is still having problems with a squidgy tummy, though feels slightly better. I have an English breakfast (we're going to miss this), and give my toast to Reg, as he's being really careful what he eats at the moment.

At the entrance gate to the church, there are several people begging. Inside the forecourt, lots of people – probably about 80 – are sitting on benches singing choruses from hymnbooks. We go inside the church building, which is huge but shabby inside. There are rows and rows of wooden pews (no cushions) and nearly every pew is full. I estimate there must be about 400 people inside the church, plus those outside, listening on a loudspeaker, and they are all singing choruses, led by a youngish man in a while cassock, with a red cross on the breast.. He is holding a microphone, and near him is a pianist, similarly robed. Some people smile at us. It's about 10 to 10. I look around and see that there are a few children and young people here; at first glance, probably about 70% of the congregation are women.

There's a stage at the front of the church, covered with a worn red carpet; on the stage is the lectern with microphone. The lectern has a gathered white curtain around the stem. On the wall behind the stage, is a large red wooden cross, with gold Chinese lettering semi-circled around it. Does the lettering say “Jesus is alive”? I can only guess. Sitting in chairs underneath the cross are a man ( in a short sleeved shirt and trousers, no robe) and a woman, dressed in a short sleeved white blouse and black trousers.

At 10 am a bell rings, and the choir come in – there are 15 people in the white robed choir, 3 of whom are men.

The woman in the short-sleeved white blouse who was sitting on the stage, approaches the lectern, and appears to be welcoming the congregation to the service.  Everyone sings, in Chinese of course,

"Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!
All ye who hear, now to his temple draw near;Praise Him in glad adoration."

I am thrilled that I recognise the tune. The congregation sing a few more songs, and then the choir sing what I am sure is the Chinese version of the Christmas carol,

"Hark the herald angels sing,
Glory to the new-born king
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled."


Afterwards, the woman on the stage leads prayers; she speaks very fast, and the congregation interject with "Amens" at various intervals.  Then everyone joins in saying what I am sure is the Lord's Prayer.

Every now and again, someone's mobile phone goes off. A woman in the pew in front of ours makes the mistake of answering hers; another woman, with a badge on a cord around her neck (a steward?) asks her to take the call outside. She doesn't, but when her phone rings again, she does scurry off.

Someone hands us a hymnbook, but of course we can't use it.  The prayers have finished and the man on the stage (evidently the preacher) comes to the lectern.  It's 10.20 am.  The choir leave the church through a rear exit door.  The short-sleeved shirt man preaches mostly without notes; after he's been talking for about 30 minutes, a few people appear to be asleep; but many are listening intently, and some are even taking notes. Occasionally the preacher must be saying something funny, because a ripple of laughter emanates from the congregation. Now and again, someone walks out.

A woman sitting in front of us can speak some English, and asks Reg whether we can understand what is being said. Reg, in his usual indomitable fashion, smiles and says, “No.”

“Then why are you here?” she asks.

It's not possible to reply, but when the preacher is 55 minutes into a sermon we cannot understand, we are beginning to wonder the same thing. We came because I have really missed attending Sunday worship, and I thought it would be good to attend a Christian service, even one where the language was alien to me. Reg came along to keep me company. I did enjoy the first part of the service, but think that a sermon of 55 minutes and counting is very long, even for the local congregation. It is also stifling hot inside the church.

I would have liked to know how long the preacher did talk for, but after he has preached for an hour, we get up from our pew as quietly as we can, and walk out, watched by hundreds of staring faces. Many more people are still sitting in the church courtyard, listening intently to the preacher's sermon as it is relayed to them through the loudspeaker.  They look at us as we walk away.  

I decide that Christianity is alive and well in China!

Returning to the hostel, Reg has tea and I have a very large cappuccino. We reply to a couple of emails, and Reg orders more train tickets for future journeys. He hopes he'll be able to pay by Paypal, but they still haven't replied to his complaint email.

I catch up on my blog, and then we go to our room to pack; we are leaving on the 7.28 pm train for Beijing. After fish and chips from the hostel bar, we bring down our luggage from our 3^rd floor room and check out.   Fion, the lovely young Chinese girl who works in the restaurant, and her Chinese friend who works on reception, insist on accompanying us to the bus-stop, to help us with our luggage and to make sure we get on the right bus. We're not sure whether they are just being their usual kind, friendly, helpful selves ….. or whether they feel sorry for us 'cos we're “oldies”.  Either way, we're grateful for their help, and once again we say that the Hang Tang hostel in Xi'an is one of the best ever.

We're 2^nd class on the train this time, which means we have a soft sleeper, but are in a 4 berth cabin. We've been allocated 1 upper and 1 lower bunk. So far, the only other passenger in our cabin is a Chinese man in his 40's who speaks no English. We are careful not to repeat our previous mistake of piling our luggage onto the spare bunk bed, in case, as happened before, another passenger joins the train during the night.