By Sr. Josefina Santos, SPC
A Filipino Sister makes a pilgrimage to China and reports on the difficult situation of the divided Church.
No in my dreams did I ever imagine myself walking on Chinese soil. If someone had told me when I was a child that I would one day see China. I would have said. “You must be joking.” And yet this impossibility became a reality on August 21, 1996 when I set foot in Beijing, the heart of China, with a group of 53 parishioners of St. Margaret’s Church.
In Beijing, we saw the usual tourist spots: Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, the Great Wall, the Heavenly Altar, the Thirteen Tomb of Ming Dynasty. Having had prior permission from the Chinese religious authorities, we were able to visit the Immaculate Heart Conception Cathedral (the first Catholic Church in Beijing), the savior Cathedral, and tomb of Matteo Ricci SJ, as will as the China Catholic Institute of Philosophy and Theology were Mr. Anthony Liu Bai Nian, Vice President of the Chinese Catholic Patriotic Association, explained to us the Government’s policy on religion. At Saviour Cathedral, we were warmly welcomed by Bishop Fu Tieshan, Bishop of Beijing. What was remarkable was that we were allowed to hold the Eucharistic Celebration at the main altar of these churches and seminary .whereas tern years ago, our parish priest, Fr. Peter Leung, said he could only celebrate Mass in sacristy.
Accompanied by a lady government official in Shanghai, we visited the beautiful St. Ignatius Cathedral, the famous mountain Shrine of Our Lady of Christians at Shesba, a house of formation for Sisters, a convent of old Sisters, a home for old consecrated virgins, a printing press and a research centre run by the diocese. We were lucky to meet the Bishop of Shanghai, Bishop Jin Luxian, at the Convent of the Presentation of Our Lady, home of the old Sisters. ‘New’ religious Sisters however are being formed in another place. We were told that the old and the new Sisters cannot live together, and that the Superior and the Novice Mistress of the new generation of Sister received their religious training in the States.
The mere fact of being in china in my religious habit stands out among the conflicting emotions that I felt. It is with a deep sense of achievements that I with five other Sisters (including Sr. Marie Noel Aranda from Iloilo City) walked the streets of Beijing (especially the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square) and shanghai and met with Government officials in my religious habit. Even without words, I felt that just my very presence was a witness to the many people we meet that God exists. For many, we were probably the first religious Sister that they have seen and identified as such
Our presence elicited curious looks and some amusing responses. Those who recognize us immediately greeted us with delight. One made the sign of the cross; another put his hands together in a gesture of prayer. Others requested us to have photos with them while some outrightly asked us who we were.
As a missionary, being called being to witness to this great people with an ancient history and culture is truly humbling and challenging. The vast majority of the new generation of China today has grown up without the knowledge of God. The Church itself is divided: one part controlled by the State having no link with the Holy Father, and the other, underground. But there is hope. The faith planted by the first missionaries is still alive. The great cathedrals and churches which survived the revolution symbolize not only the past but also the future the Church as well. On one side of the wall in the modern church of Christ the Kings in Shanghai is an impressive larger-than-life mural of the Good Shepherd with His sheep for me that picture is a sign that the stray sheep will one day come back to the fold. Then there will only be one flock and one Shepherd!
Meeting the old Sisters in shanghai also left an unforgettable impression on me. My first reaction, of course, was delight, but their living conditions moved me so much to pity. About 40 Sisters in their 70’s or 80’s live in this crumbly old two-story building, which is situated near the cathedral.
The old Sisters, dressed in poor peasant costumes were having their secondary meal when we arrived, though it was only little after 11 am. To communicate we somehow managed with our broken Mandarin French. Fortunately one of us is fluent in French. Sisters of the same Congregation (Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, Franciscan Missionaries of Mary, and helpers of the Holy Souls) sat on wooden stools around square wooden tables. Each had a meager portion of rice, vegetables and meat on white tin plates, but there were no glasses nor cups at all. They probably drink somewhere else later.
Back in Hong Kong, my pity was changed to admiration. Are they really to be pitied, I reflected? Perhaps, I living a very comfortable lifestyle, am the one to be pitied more. Perhaps they are saints, hidden, but nevertheless real.