Editor’s Note: This article is part two of In Thanksgiving I Cry Out, a three-part series chronicling Zha Changping’s spiritual journey. In the first article, the author reflected on his path from intellectual skepticism to Christian faith. Here, he shares how God led him from conversion into calling, ministry, and deeper spiritual discernment.
Guidance of the Holy Word
After my baptism, I read the English devotional, Streams in the Desert, and felt that the words assigned to each day were written specifically for me. I hummed hymns on my way to work. I forgave the director of the personnel office who had delayed my confirmation of employment by one year. I carried out every task entrusted to me with a spirit of service. Within my work unit, I willingly brewed tea and poured water for a group of elderly intellectuals—the members of the Institute of Culture and History—and assisted them in resolving various difficulties in their daily lives.
At the same time, due to a shortage of volunteers, I began participating in the shepherding and leadership of the church.
One day, after prayer, I read in the Gospel of John, chapter 21, verses 15–19, where Jesus asks Peter three times whether he loves him. This passage became the first Scripture through which I received my calling and confirmation to participate in ministry. My acceptance of ordination as a deacon likewise arose from a clearer biblical revelation:
Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to care for the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood. (Acts 20:28, ESV)
Like all new believers, I sought comfort in the church from the totality of my disappointments in the human world. Each week, I longed to gather with brothers and sisters to study Scripture, to share in fellowship, and to express endless thanksgiving and worship toward the Lord Jesus. Each day, whenever I encountered others, I sought every possible opportunity to proclaim the gospel, to testify to Jesus Christ, to discuss theological questions, and to distribute copies of the Bible.
As church membership increased—and because the co-workers, myself included, had received no formal training in pastoral shepherding—I came to understand theology as not only the study of God, but learning from God. Beyond leading others through acceptance in love, perseverance in prayer, and proclamation in faith, during our monthly co-worker meetings, my impulsiveness sometimes led me to engage in intense disputes with fellow workers. These were followed by apologies, forgiveness, and, on my journey home, discouragement and exhaustion. At times, I even considered retreating into family worship alone, so as to avoid the wounds and troubles that arose within church life.
One Friday evening toward the end of 1997, my wife and I were scheduled to lead a Bible study at the home of a brother in the Baiguolin residential district in Ximen. I felt disheartened and reluctant to go and hid in the bathroom. My wife began strumming her Hawaiian guitar outside the door. Eventually, I came out and lay languidly on the sofa. She said, “Let us pray together.”
A few minutes later, I reluctantly entered into silent prayer. When I finished, I heard a voice saying, “Those who trust in him, rise!”
There were only the two of us in the room. How could there have been a male voice? At that moment, I realized that it was Jesus speaking to me—he truly is the risen Lord. I “rose” and went to lead the Bible study.
By relying upon these words, I continued to devote myself to serving and leading the church. These words written by Peter further fueled me:
Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. (1 Peter 5:2–4, ESV)
I gradually came to understand the deeper meaning of the Lord’s words over the years: those who trust in him are able, through him, to stand upright.
Thus, regardless of the circumstances of despair or hardship, I remain filled with hope. For I am convinced that Jesus Christ, as the Holy Son, exercises his sovereign rule over the universe. He rules our language; He rules time and space; He rules the self; He rules over nature, over society, and history.
Jehovah is the Lord of the world in which humanity resides. He is the Lord of lords. He is the Supreme Lord who transcends the world in which humanity exists.
Guarding of the Holy Spirit
On the other hand, regarding our society that is undergoing a transition from the pre-modern to the modern, I remain convinced that Chinese society stands in urgent need of an enlightenment of the humanities. On Christmas Eve, December 24, 1999, together with my close friend Luo Jian, I decided to establish the Trinity Bookstore at No. 31 Zhazi Street near Shaocheng of the Qin dynasty in Chengdu, where we would host weekly academic lectures every Saturday. By early 2001, the bookstore had garnered remarkable renown and had become a cultural landmark of Western China. Media coverage appeared almost every week; my home phone line turned into a hotline; Trinity Bookstore was even featured on the Voice of America. I encouraged my colleagues to one day establish branches in Beijing and Shanghai and even expand into New York and Paris. However, in March of that same year, after returning from entrance examinations for doctoral study at Renmin University of China, I discovered that the media seemed to have suddenly forgotten me. I viscerally experienced the emptiness of celebrity; celebrity that possesses nothing but its own fame.
During this period, every lecture I hosted seemed to be accompanied by the invisible guidance of the Holy Spirit. Some individuals raised questions designed to lure the speaker into a trap, like an elderly woman who is overly concerned with the future of the bookstore, knitting under the pretext of listening during lectures, or a young woman scantily clad, sleeping through the lecture. They would ask, “When will China achieve a society of democratic freedom?” or “Should we rise up in rebellion?” As the academic host of the bookstore, I had to remain vigilant and not fall into such snares that could jeopardize the safety of the team and the bookstore.
On many occasions, before lectures began, the Holy Spirit would remind me not to speak with certain individuals or would restrain my speech in the midst of conversation, lest I furnish others with grounds for reproach. In June 2001, during the final lecture at which I served as academic host, some individuals even laid a trap and urged me to take to the streets as their “revolutionary mentor.” Facing such a situation, I recalled the words spoken by Jesus to Pilate two thousand years ago:
My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world. (John 18:36, ESV)
I resolutely resigned from my position as academic host and foresaw that the bookstore would soon draw its curtain.
