Why Taiwan is a hope and not a problem

A new book presented today at the Rimini Meeting recounts the reality of the island from the faces of its people and the missionary experience of the St. Charles Borromoeo Fraternity. Extracts from the preface, written by our editorial director: “In Taiwan we experience many things that seem to us like pages from the Gospel.”

At the Rimini Meeting - the Italian summer kermesse of Communion and Liberation - the session “Stories of Rebirth in Taiwan” is being held this afternoon. Speakers include  Fr. Donato Contuzzi, missionary of the Fraternity of St. Charles Borromeo, Fr. Gianni Criveller editorial director of AsiaNews, and Xu Yahan, a young Taiwanese convert to Catholicism, to present the book “The Cross and the Dragon,” in which Tempi journalist Leone Grotti recounts the reality of Taiwan from the experience of the missionary presence of the Fraternity of St. Charles Borromeo. The volume - published by Cantagalli and arriving in bookstores in Italy later this month -  includes a preface by Father Criveller, from which we publish excerpts below.

Taiwan is indeed a very beautiful place: even the ancient name -Formosa- by which it was known in the West until a few decades ago says so. For the public it remains a mysterious place: many know its name, but would not know where to place it, or say anything more about it. Some know about the high-tech products-particularly microchips-that have flooded international markets.

It is worth getting to know Taiwan by stepping out of stereotypes: it is the best place for those interested in the traditional culture, religions, and folklore of the Chinese people. (...) Taipei does not only have tall skyscrapers, subway lines and shopping malls. There are still the small streets of working-class neighborhoods, where there is a small temple and devotional altars at every turn. Modernity has not abolished traditional religion; on the contrary, the enrichment of the people has made it possible to restore ancient temples and multiply opportunities for worship. (...)

Catholics in Taiwan are free and in dialogue with believers of other religions. The Church has played the role of bridge-church to China, a mission that is now very difficult because of political developments on the Mainland. The challenge of multiculturalism, multi-religiosity, secularization, and the unresolved relationship with Beijing constitute major challenges that believers face with their own weak strengths and some apprehension about the future. (...) The reader of this book will, I think, be able to agree that Taiwan cannot be regarded as just a problem-almost a troublesome one-to be solved in the complicated Chinese chessboard. Taiwan is much more than that: with the practices of freedom and democracy, it has opened a way and a hope for the Chinese nation and also for the Chinese Church. (...)

The political tensions of recent years and the increasingly frequent and threatening military exercises frequently bring attention back to Taiwan, which we hear about only in connection with China's possible reunification action and as an object of tension over control of the Pacific Ocean. But Taiwan deserves instead to be known and appreciated for what it is. And the people of Taiwan deserve to be heard.

This is another reason why reading this book is very important: it gives us an inside view of a very special, precious surprising piece of Taiwan. In these pages Taiwanese people have a face, a name, a story to tell. Reading the book you have in your hands was, for me too, a heartening experience. I recognized in it places, people, events, moods, aspirations and difficulties that I myself, in my own small way, experienced during my four years on the island (1991-1994). I was at the beginning of my missionary life among the Chinese people: the feelings, challenges and hopes of the missionaries of the Saint Charles Fraternity were also mine.

I also found in the book a communion of missionary vision. For years I have been teaching, in Hong Kong and Italy, Theology of Mission, and I continue to reflect on the mystery of mission. In Taipei I had met young people who, attending Fujen Catholic University, had adhered to the gospel of Jesus. I interviewed them in order to understand that mysterious and fascinating event that goes by the name of conversion, namely the acceptance of Jesus as the heart of life.

In my readings of missionary history in Taiwan and China, I found that frequently the beginning of people's conversion is 'by grace received': a healing or the resolution of family difficulties or other helpful benefits. Converts with less than spiritual motives are called 'flour Christians' in Taiwan; 'rice Christians' in Hong Kong and China. Opponents of Christianity accuse them of converting to get material help from missionaries. Yet missionaries must always exercise charity in imitation of Jesus the good shepherd. Conversion is not the goal of aid, but the generous willingness to succor human frailties can generate, in those who accept the gift, a desire to know Christ, the cause that drives missionaries to give their lives. And we know that from children and grandchildren of rice and flour Christians have arisen vocations and witnesses of faith even to martyrdom. The dynamic of conversion, often described in this book, is always marked by grace and deserves respect, even when apparently the motivations are not only spiritual.

So much is experienced in Taiwan that seems like pages of the Gospel to us. The outcome of mission is not measured by worldly success and numbers, but rather by the quality of the Gospel witness of those who welcome Christ. I find very beautiful what Fr. Silanos experienced, “One of the greatest gifts I was given in Taipei is to be able to participate in the gaze with which Christ looks at these people and of the method he uses: patience.” A phrase that makes me think of the testament of Christian De Chargé, the prior of Tibhirine. Martyrdom will finally allow him to “plunge my gaze into that of the Father, to contemplate with Him His children of Islam as He sees them, all illuminated by the glory of Christ.”

Taiwan shows us very eloquently what is true everywhere: Jesus does not meet in masses. He stands at the door and knocks. Relationship is central to the missionary dynamic, and each person is to be welcomed and accompanied as a precious gift. From this personal relationship comes friendship. A theme in my opinion that is fundamental to our existence as men and women disciples of Jesus. The theme of friendship, one of the best ways to describe mission, emerges almost on every page in this book. Benedict XVI had wonderful words to describe the Christian fact as friendship with Jesus, and mission as the sharing, the gift of this friendship with others. The community of Jesus' disciples is built on plots of friendship.

Matteo Ricci, the great missionary to China, titled his first book in Chinese Of Friendship-a theme that united the gospel, Chinese culture, and Christian humanism. There is no greater love than one who gives his life to friends: Jesus did it; missionaries do it. The work of Christ, our peace, is to break down the divisive wall of enmity. The experience of friendship creates the movement that moves hearts and draws people to Jesus. Doctrines and reasoning are also important steps for adherence to faith: but people are touched in their hearts when they encounter friendship. In the five Confucian social relations, which are the Chinese ethical basis, friendship is the fifth virtue, but the only elective one, that is, based on free choice. And therefore it is the most important, the most human, the one that most corresponds to the dignity of people created in the image of God. Friendship means freedom and gratuitousness, that is, the gift of self.

From friendship comes happiness: “If there were no amicitia in the world,” wrote Matteo Ricci, “there would be no happiness.” I really liked the reference to happiness in reading the book. Christianity was born on Easter morning from a proclamation of joy. If Christians and missionaries do not bring joy into people's lives, then they are not evangelical: “we are all destined for happiness.”

The book is a valuable testimony that mission is missio Dei - God's work, even before missionaries. Mission certainly changes, but it never dies, because it comes from God. And missionaries are disciples who seek to take on the same gaze as God. Taiwan is the beautiful island today because God is at work there. This account, very well written and full of evangelical authenticity, is precious evidence of that.

Pictured: a Stations of the Cross celebration in Taipei with the missionaries of the St. Charles Borromeo Fraternity.