Lausanne World Pulse – World Pulse Archives – World Pulse Archives

Over the past decade, millions of Chinese farmers have migrated to cities in search of work. Following the throngs into cities, rural missionaries find themselves at odds with the demands of urban living and ministry.

In the footsteps of the Apostle Paul, Chinese missionaries are learning to operate shops for income and evangelize customers at the same time.

A matter of survival “Mr. Wong,” an experienced missionary, was sent by his rural church to evangelize migrant factory workers in Shenzhen, China’s first special economic zone bordering Hong Kong. He drew converts and formed a house church, but suspicious neighbors alerted the police, who harassed church gatherings. Because he held no job, Wong lacked professional and social credibility.

After two years, his funds ran out. Supporters from his home church told him that they could no longer afford to support him. Wong had to find a way to support himself, his wife and two children, or come home.

Wong was determined to survive. Like scores of other rural missionaries, he faced a new challenge: how to earn a living in the city. He tried opening a restaurant but found his preaching skills poorly suited for business.

Shop church as tent That’s when on a ministry visit to Shenzhen, Ronald Yu, an old friend of house church leaders, hit upon an idea when colleagues introduced him to Wong. “Why don’t you open a convenience store next to a factory? Your shop will provide income and covering for your ministry,” said Yu, vice president of the Chinese Missionary Seminary in Hong Kong.

Searching for a good way other than donor support to fund missions work, Yu meditated on the Apostle Paul’s tentmaking strategy—making and repairing tents while he preached on the side. To preach boldly and gain credibility among unbelievers, Paul chose to earn his living on all his journeys.

Yu believed that Paul’s model could be adapted to Wong’s needs for several reasons. The shop would provide the pastor income and social credibility, too. It also would serve as a covering for evangelism and discipleship. Eventually it would yield recruits and leaders for church planting.

The first shop In February 2002 Wong opened a shop in Shenzhen selling drinks, snacks and sundries. Within seven months he repaid the loan from Yu’s organization (US$1,250) and was able to support his family.

The shop was open from dawn until midnight and also served as a dry pub. Factory workers came in to browse, talk on the phone or hang out. Many watched the television on the front counter.

“TV is useful for starting conversations,” Yu said. Wong began cultivating personal relationships with his customers. To a select few he showed the Jesus video.

The rear of Wong’s shop began filling with seekers hungry for Bible teaching and fellowship. In spite of dim, cramped conditions, Sunday night gatherings were vibrant. Voices accompanied guitar praise songs. Every two months, around a dozen converts were baptized by dipping their heads into a basin of water.

Some months later Wong decided to add more space, doubling the store’s size to accommodate his growing group. Now, 90 believers gather weekly in Wong’s shop.

Telephone takeovers Hundreds of miles northwest in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan, Yu saw a payphone shop. Factories lacking phones forced workers to go to phone shops to call relatives.

Observing its prime location and flurry of activity, Yu decided it was better to buy it from the owner than reinvent the wheel. With a loan and one week of training, a young local couple took over. Business carried on as usual—except for small gatherings in the rear living quarters.

“Now I can supervise my children and help out with the shop,” the wife said, “while both of us draw hearts to Christ.”

Back in Shenzhen, another telephone takeover was completed by two Christian brothers from the “Shouters” group in Henan. The Shouters got their nickname for encouraging their congregation to shout during worship or when threatened, “Jesus is Lord!”

Faithful to their tradition of fasting and prayer three times a month, these two brothers modeled the love of Christ to every customer. One of them, a guitarist, reached out by giving lessons to factory workers. Seekers now gather twice a week in the rear of their phone shop.

Cultural stumbling blocks Despite apparent ministry success, with no previous exposure to urban living or the commercial world, rural pastors hit stumbling blocks. Gangsters slipped counterfeit bills to unsuspecting owners. Vendors peddled counterfeit products such as infant formula, which inflicted severe poisoning and even death on some babies. These pastors were forced, almost overnight, to become wise as serpents and gentle as doves.

Other rural pastors struggled to adjust to a hectic and impersonal lifestyle. Customer conversations were curtailed from hours to minutes. A wristwatch became vital for managing time and productivity. Their cherished bias for all things sacred over secular had to be adjusted to put rice on their own tables.

Right motives produce profits A capitalist might consider “a business for God’s economy” as an oxymoron. The motive of business is profit, but God’s servant aims for the higher motive of giving.

“The concept of private ownership is vital,” Yu said. An operator who does not aim for ownership and profit is just an employee working for a sleepy state enterprise.

On the other hand, Yu and his partner house churches encourage a shop-church owner to follow their 50/50 principle of giving: the owner retains 50 percent of the profit and gives 50 percent to the church. Just as the owner models godliness to his customers, his enterprise is guided by principles of biblical stewardship.

Since 2002, 15 shops have opened. Thirteen remain in good standing. Armed with the right motives and an ability to integrate the sacred with the secular, a synergy of business and kingdom profit can be achieved.

One inevitable challenge is the entry of foreign franchises with deep pockets and economies of scale that drive out small operators. Yet a small operator has the advantage of flexibility.

Yu envisions a conglomerate of businesses he believes Paul himself would be proud of: “I see beauty parlors, book shops, language and PC training—even a shop church training school,” Yu said, beaming.

If more pastors catch Yu’s entrepreneurial vision, China’s cities could be teeming with shop churches.

Joy Lo Cheung is a freelance writer in Hong Kong, China. She serves as editor of Tapestry, the quarterly newsletter of Evangelical Community Church.