Every Hong Kong Church Confronts This Question

How do they situate themselves between Caesar and God?
Illustration by Michael George Haddad

MORE THAN A year ago, during the early days of Hong Kong’s anti-extradition bill protests, a Christian hymn echoed in the streets. “Sing Hallelujah to the Lord” had become an unofficial protest anthem. A year later, the spirit of hope that permeated the song’s adoption has evaporated.

This summer Beijing overrode the “one country, two systems” principle agreed to in 1997 by implementing a new national security law (NSL) in Hong Kong that gives China’s central government a broad set of powers to silence anything deemed subversive. The effects have been swift and chilling. In August, legislative elections for 2020 were delayed a year; pro-democracy candidates were disqualified. Controversial texts have been removed from public libraries, pro-democracy professors silenced, and newspaper offices raided.

Some of Hong Kong’s leading democracy activists, including legal scholar Benny Tai and Nobel Peace Prize nominee Joshua Wong, confess Christian faith. During the height of recent protests, many pastors invoked Christ in their participation. For example, pastor Roy Chan organized Protect the Children, a civilian peacekeeping collective, to shield young protesters from police violence. Under the new NSL, actions like Chan’s could be prosecutable, with potential life sentences.

Roman Catholic Cardinal Joseph Zen has spoken against Beijing’s authoritarian rule for many years. In response to the NSL, Zen has proclaimed he is ready to go to prison. Lo Hing-Choi, leader of the Baptist Convention of Hong Kong, has also decried the law’s unilateral implementation as a transgression against the agreement that grants Hong Kong a significant degree of self-governance. But not all Hong Kong Christians have been so negative. Anglican Archbishop Paul Kwong and the Hong Kong Christian Council have issued public statements accommodating the new law. In their eyes, the NSL’s purpose is to safeguard Hong Kong society, and they believe it will not impinge upon Christian worship.

Apart from public voices such as these, many Hong Kong churches have long avoided political commentary. But the NSL has forced many of the city’s faithful to respond. On May 31, a group of Christian leaders published a statement outlining a Christian response to the NSL that garnered thousands of signatures of support. Reminiscent of the 1934 Barmen Declaration, written by some German Christians in response to Nazi encroachment into church affairs, the document is a theological confession of what Christian duty requires in Hong Kong today. The statement declares, “The church is neither a political party nor a political organization, therefore, political agendas or demands should not become the main focus of the church.” But “when facing injustice and evilness in the society, the church should act as the social conscience and fulfill its prophetic role to denounce injustice, to proclaim the will of God, and to bear witness to truth.”

Every Hong Kong church confronts the question of how to situate itself between Caesar and God. Statements such as these are critical theological markers for the global church to heed and pray over. Not only do they proclaim faith in Christ, but they also lay out the plumb lines by which many churches will now measure their ministry and mission in a radically changing Hong Kong. The new law’s vague wording can render declarations of allegiance to God suspect. What divides the worshipful singing of “Hallelujah to the Lord” from Christian solidarity with the oppressed? And can such a line even be drawn?

This article was made possible in part with support from Sacred Writes, a Henry Luce Foundation-funded project hosted by Northeastern University that promotes public scholarship on religion.

This appears in the November 2020 issue of Sojourners