In the opening lines of the Gospel of John, God’s everlasting presence is rendered as “the Word,” a translation of the Greek word logos. In many translations of the Chinese Bible, including the favored Chinese Union Version, you will see that this idea rendered as “the Dao (Tao).”
In English, Dao is often translated as “the Way.” In Chinese, the word (道) indicates a teaching or way of life that aligns with the heavens. It may consult with the omnipresent essence of all creation in Daoism, a practice of thought and spiritual practice that encourages its followers to hunt immortality and achieve wisdom for discerning right responses to circumstances.
What does the Dao, or Word, of God must do with the Dao of Daoism?
When I lived and taught in China, I encountered many sensitive hearts and inquisitive minds that were open to spiritual matters. Yet these seekers would often turn to the traditions of their ancestors for answers before considering the Christian gospel. My lack of familiarity with Chinese religion and philosophy hindered my witness, and so I made a decision to change into a serious student of Confucian, Daoist, and Buddhist traditions.
Now, as a scholar of Chinese Christianity and religions, I actually have a a lot better sense of the ways in which Chinese philosophy and religion can each converge with and diverge from Christian thought. I actually have a clearer sense of how people of Chinese descent connect their cultural heritage to their Christian faith.
Christian missionaries and students have a long-standing tradition of sincere dialogue with other religious and philosophical traditions. In Acts 17, Paul observes the inscription to an unknown God in Athens, Greece, and proclaims Christ as an expression and success of a few of their traditions. Later, early church fathers like Origen and Augustine utilized Greco-Roman philosophies like Neoplatonism to deepen their understanding of the gospel and extend its reach across pagan Europe.
This pattern of using culture as a bridge for revealing the fullness of the gospel extends to China. Monks from the Assyrian Church of the East preached Christ in Chinese philosophical parlance throughout the Tang Dynasty within the sixth century. And Jesuit missionary Matteo Ricci adopted Confucian modes of thought and discourse to impress the imperial courts of the Ming Dynasty within the sixteenth century.
Alongside Confucianism, Daoism has shaped Chinese spirituality for hundreds of years, and considered one of its biggest and most influential figures was the philosopher Zhuangzi.
Little is known about Zhuangzi besides the incontrovertible fact that he was a minor official in Meng (now Shangqiu), China, and was likely a recent of the Confucian scholar Mencius. Nevertheless, he’s considered a famed Daoist thinker who rigorously rejected political power and social influence in favor of a life led by “free and simple” contemplation and ease.
In my view, a serious consideration of Zhuangzi’s teachings on the Dao are vital to understanding the gospel in and for Chinese culture. Zhuangzi shouldn’t be a divine figure to be equated with Jesus Christ, nor are his teachings sacred like Scripture—but his sayings will be stepping stones for Chinese seekers to know the New Testament and see Jesus because the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
How Buddhism spread across China
One of Zhuangzi’s most enduring ideas is what a “true person” (真人) looks like. To him, that is one who lives in perfect unity with the Dao and rightly discerns every situation. Zhuangzi characterizes this individual as exhibiting “inward holiness and outward kingship” (内圣外王), in that their spiritual power gives them a majesty unmatched by those that govern by force.
When the Han Dynasty disintegrated in A.D. 220, scholars felt disenchanted with Confucianism, because it did not hold the dominion together. They began a latest mental movement often known as neo-Daoism or “mysterious learning” (玄学), mixing Confucian and Daoist teachings that emphasized the importance of cultivating Zhuangzi’s concept of the true person.
Leaders of this latest school of thought turned to Buddhist ideas to flesh out their neo-Daoist pondering. Buddhism entered China throughout the Han Dynasty but did not grow since it taught that followers should surrender family and society in favor of monastic life, which was antithetical to Chinese sensibilities on the time.
Zhuangzi’s ideas made Buddhism more appealing to the Chinese elite. For instance, he encouraged his followers to practice “fasting of the guts and mind” (心斋), language that resonated with Buddhist meditation practices. In this manner, Zhuangzi’s teachings served as a link between Daoism and Buddhism, allowing the latter to flourish across China.
If scholars once used Zhuangzi’s teachings to introduce Buddhist thought to Chinese culture, can Christians use Zhuangzi to do the identical for our faith? How might Chinese seekers who’re steeped in Daoist influences view Jesus in accordance with this lens? To answer this query, I’d like to match three of Zhuangzi’s most famous sayings with three New Testament passages.
Born of the Spirit
In Zhuangzi’s worldview, transformation occurs beyond human reason. One of his most famous teachings is from a dream wherein he becomes a butterfly, leading him to query if he could potentially be the alternative: a butterfly dreaming that it’s a person.
Through the butterfly dream, Zhuangzi implies that there could also be way more to nature than we typically perceive. There are mysteries beyond our present reality that we cannot fully fathom. The dynamic experience of waking up from one reality into one other suggests that a “higher” level of consciousness can come about all of sudden, absent of our own effort.
When chatting with a Chinese person whose worldview is influenced by Daoism, Zhuangzi’s perspective on the mystery of transformation may help them understand how becoming a believer shouldn’t be a self-driven but Spirit-initiated endeavor.
As John 3 relays, Jesus talks with Nicodemus about everlasting matters, saying, “No one can see the dominion of God unless they’re born again.” For Nicodemus, being “born again” seems illogical and not possible. But this birth shouldn’t be considered one of body but of Spirit, Jesus responds.
The power of the Holy Spirit is way beyond that of the natural birth that Nicodemus was serious about. The Spirit is like wind, blowing wherever it pleases (v. 8), and his work shouldn’t be something we will manufacture by our own strength and intellect.
Cultivating spiritual fruit
To Zhuangzi, actions can change into almost effortless when an individual is connected to the Dao. In “The Secret to Caring for Life,” he writes a couple of master butcher who wields his knife instinctively. “After three years I not saw the entire ox,” the butcher says. “And now I am going at it by Spirit and don’t look with my eyes. Perception and understanding have come to a stop, and Spirit moves where it wants.”
For Zhuangzi, what begins with effort slowly becomes as natural as respiration. The result’s a seemingly supernatural capability to do whatever it’s one’s sense of vocation requires.
When introducing the gospel to Chinese seekers, Zhuangzi’s concept of effortless motion (无为) may provide a deeper understanding of Paul’s teaching on the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22–25. We are to be rooted within the Spirit of God versus the flesh, Paul writes, and since we live by the Spirit, we’re to “keep in step” with the Spirit.
How can we contextualize this within the Chinese worldview?
Keeping consistent with the Spirit refers to allowing the Holy Spirit to work in us each day as we abide in Christ and dwell on his Word. As we achieve this, there could also be times wherein displaying love, joy, peace, patience, and other fruit in our lives can change into as effortless as Zhuangzi described, irrespective of how difficult our circumstances are.
Appraising value
For Zhuangzi, seemingly insignificant things will be bearers of great value. In a tale from “Free and Easy Wandering,” a critic complains about an unpleasant tree and compares it to Zhuangzi’s teachings: “Your words, too, are big and useless, and so everyone alike spurns them!”
“Why don’t you plant [the tree] within the Not-Even-Anything Village or the sector of Broad-and-Boundless, loosen up and do nothing by its side, or lie down for a free and simple sleep under it? … If there’s no use for it, how can it come to grief or pain?” Zhuangzi responds wittily.
To Zhuangzi, the fantastic thing about that “useless” tree is its natural capability to stretch out and supply good on this planet. He critiques humanity’s inclination to only attach value to things which might be self-beneficial and asserts that there’s inherent value in all of creation.
When sharing about Christianity in Chinese culture, Zhuangzi’s story on finding value in seemingly pointless items can function a springboard toward understanding Jesus’ description of the dominion of God.
In the parable in regards to the mustard seed in Matthew 13:31–32, Jesus compares the dominion of heaven to a mustard seed which, when fully grown, becomes an excellent tree, “the most important of garden plants … in order that the birds come and perch in its branches.”
To Jesus, the fantastic thing about a tiny mustard seed is its ability to grow into an excellent tree that gives a house for the birds. Here, the mustard seed reflects how the dominion of God could seem to have humble beginnings but is unstoppable in its growth.
Encountering the Dao change into flesh
In examining Zhuangzi’s teachings and the way they will help seekers in Chinese culture understand the Christian faith, we see instances of how his teachings can point toward Christ—one who’s fully human and fully divine, and the success of Zhuangzi’s idea of the true person.
Jesus is himself the Way, or the Dao: “In the start was the Dao, and the Dao was with God, and the Dao was God. … The Dao became flesh and made his dwelling amongst us” (John 1:1, 14; CUV).
Nevertheless, bearing witness to Christ through the language and values of one other worldview does greater than just communicate the gospel to a unique culture. It also provides latest ways for understanding the gospel in our own culture. In this manner, Zhuangzi’s sayings can also provide non-Chinese Christians with a latest perspective on God’s Word, like how early Christian leaders used Greco-Roman philosophies for example their theological articulations.
As Augustine said, and Aquinas later agreed, “all truth is God’s truth”—since, wherever truth is found, God is the source (John 16:13). And every signpost of God’s truth, embedded in any culture, points toward Jesus because the hope of all nations (Matt. 12:21).
Easten Law is the assistant director of educational programs at Princeton Theological Seminary’s Overseas Ministries Study Center.
Previous versions of this piece were published on ChinaSource.
