My wife and I recently returned from a journey to Beijing, China. For one week we walked the ancient streets, entered palaces of emperors, and observed a city both modern and deeply rooted in 5,000 years of culture. What I carried home with me were not only photos and souvenirs, but deep impressions of the people, their history, and the surprising ways in which God’s truth shines through their culture.
As I reflected on our experiences, I realized that Beijing was more than a tourist destination for me. It became a place where I saw God’s fingerprints—in kindness, in order, in safety, in history, and in the very longings of the human heart. Scripture teaches us that God has “set eternity in the human heart” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). What I saw in Beijing was a culture that, knowingly or not, has been reaching for the eternal.
1. The Courtesy of a Gentle People
The very first thing that struck me about the Chinese people was their courtesy. Coming from New York City, where the streets are often filled with rushing, shoving, and impatience, I was stunned at how different the atmosphere felt in Beijing.
On Beijing’s busy sidewalks, crowded with people and electric motorbikes, there was a striking gentleness. Motorbike riders, instead of startling pedestrians, would simply honk politely and pass by. Pedestrians themselves, when needing to move past us, would say a soft “sorry,” their cultural equivalent of “excuse me.”
I remember one moment in particular: while shopping in a mall, I asked a sales clerk where I could find a shoe repair shop. She kindly pointed the way. A few minutes later, after realizing we had gone in the wrong direction, she ran after us, out of breath, just to make sure we didn’t get lost. Her determination to serve was humbling.
Another time, while at the airport, something fell from our basket. Before I could bend down, a nearby staff member quickly reached to pick it up. When I thanked her warmly, she simply smiled and replied, “No problem.”
These small gestures might seem ordinary, but together they revealed something profound: the image of God written into every human being. Even in a nation where many do not know Christ, kindness and gentleness shine through. As Paul reminds us in Romans 2:14, “When Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law… they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts.”
In the courtesy of the Chinese people, I caught a glimpse of God’s common grace. It reminded me that wherever we go in the world, His image-bearers cannot help but reflect something of His nature—even if dimly, even if unknowingly.
2. Safety and the Illusion of Security
Another impression was the sense of safety. In New York City, there are neighborhoods I would not walk through after sunset. Yet in Beijing, I walked freely at night with no sense of fear. There were no signs of homelessness on the streets, no groups loitering with malice, no undercurrent of danger in people’s eyes.
Our tour guide explained that this safety was due, in large part, to the government’s surveillance system. Cameras monitor nearly every corner of the city. The guide even told us that if someone left a suitcase unattended outside the airport, it might still be there thirty minutes later, untouched.
From a human perspective, this level of safety is impressive. Yet as I reflected, I was reminded that true security does not come from cameras or human systems of control. Scripture teaches, “Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain” (Psalm 127:1).
Beijing’s peace reminded me of a deeper peace—the peace that only God can give. Surveillance may restrain crime, but it cannot restrain sin. Only the transforming power of Christ can bring true safety, true wholeness, true shalom. One day, in the New Jerusalem, there will be no need for cameras, locks, or guards. God Himself will dwell with His people, and nothing impure will ever enter (Revelation 21:27).
3. Ancient Longings for Eternity
Perhaps the most fascinating part of our journey was visiting the Forbidden City. There, within the walls of the emperor’s palace, I saw in architecture and symbolism a culture’s deep longing for immortality, harmony, and peace.
The colors of the buildings, the placement of gates, the arrangement of courtyards—all carried spiritual meaning. Dragons adorned the pillars, symbolizing imperial power. Incense smoke rose in the morning, filling the air as the emperor looked out from his throne, giving him the illusion of sitting in heaven. Even the animals sculpted into the architecture—turtles, phoenixes, lions—were chosen because they were believed to belong in paradise.
Our guide explained that twice a year, the emperor would fast and lead the nation in sacrifice to the God of heaven. Hundreds of animals were slaughtered. Prayers were offered, not in worship of God for who He is, but as requests for good harvests and national prosperity.
The parallels to the Old Testament struck me immediately. Like Israel, China’s ancient emperors knew there was a higher power who controlled the rains and the harvest. Like Israel, they brought sacrifices, hoping to secure favor. Yet unlike Israel, who were pointed by their sacrifices to the coming Messiah, China’s sacrifices stopped at the symbol. They revealed the longing of the human heart for eternity, but they lacked the fulfillment only Christ provides.
This reminded me of Paul’s words to the Athenians: “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious… What you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you” (Acts 17:22–23). The Chinese emperors longed for eternal life, but Christ alone offers it. Their sacrifices sought blessings, but Christ became the ultimate sacrifice once for all.
4. Echoes of the Bible in Chinese Language and Culture
What amazed me further were the echoes of biblical truth embedded in the Chinese written language and traditions.
Take, for example, the character for “boat” is (船). It is composed of three parts: the radical for “boat,” plus “eight” and “mouths” (meaning people). In other words: a boat with eight people—precisely the number who entered Noah’s ark.
Or consider the character for “Satan”, (魔). It is formed from two trees above, with a ghost or demon beneath. Could this be a reflection of the serpent tempting Adam and Eve under the trees in Eden?
Even cultural traditions mirror biblical events. For instance, Chinese families have long hung red cloth above their doorways to ward off evil spirits. How similar this is to Israel’s Passover, when lamb’s blood was placed on doorposts so that the angel of death would pass by.
Are these coincidences? I believe not. They are whispers of a greater story—echoes of the truth that all humanity once shared before God scattered the nations at Babel (Genesis 11). From that moment, tribes spread across the earth, carrying fragments of memory, traces of the true God, embedded in their languages, traditions, and rituals.
In Beijing, I saw these traces in full color. And they point to a remarkable truth: the God of the Bible is not the tribal god of Israel only. He is the Creator of all nations, and His story has touched every people from the beginning.
5. The Dragon and the Enemy
Yet alongside these echoes of truth lies evidence of distortion. The dragon, for example, permeates Chinese culture. Carved into palaces, emblazoned on robes, the dragon symbolized the emperor’s divine power. The emperor was even called “the Son of Heaven,” a title dangerously close to divine worship.
But Scripture is clear: the dragon is none other than Satan himself (Revelation 12:9). What Beijing’s culture revered as a symbol of strength, Scripture unmasks as the enemy of God’s people. Here we see the tragedy of fallen humanity—longings for eternity mingled with lies, fragments of truth corrupted by the adversary.
Romans 1 describes this dynamic well: “They exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things” (Romans 1:23). Humanity longs for God, but without revelation, we turn to symbols and idols. We worship the creature instead of the Creator.
6. The Gospel in China Today
And yet, the story does not end there. In our own time, China has witnessed one of the fastest church growth movements in history. Despite persecution, despite restrictions, the gospel has taken root and spread with power. Millions of Chinese believers now worship Christ as Lord, rejecting the dragon and embracing the Lamb.
This is nothing short of miraculous. The same culture that once sacrificed to heaven without knowing the true God is now offering spiritual sacrifices through Jesus Christ. The same language that once carried echoes of Noah and Eden now carries songs of praise to the Savior.
It is a living testimony of Revelation 7:9—that one day a great multitude from “every nation, tribe, people, and language” will stand before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white, proclaiming His salvation.
7. Conclusion: The Greater Story
As I walked through Beijing, I realized I was not just looking at palaces and monuments. I was glimpsing a culture’s heart cry—a longing for eternity, for peace, for life beyond death.
And that longing, I am convinced, is the same one God has planted in every nation. The Chinese emperor’s sacrifices, the dragon imagery, the architectural pursuit of harmony—all of it is humanity’s restless search for what only Christ can provide.
In Christ, the search ends. The emperor longed for longevity, but Christ offers eternal life. The people sacrificed for blessings, but Christ gave Himself once for all. The dragon deceives, but Christ has conquered.
So as I left Beijing, I carried with me not just memories of a great city, but a renewed conviction: the gospel is for all peoples. God’s fingerprints are everywhere, pointing us to Jesus. And one day, from east and west, from north and south, the redeemed will gather at His table (Luke 13:29).
Until that day, we proclaim Christ—not only in New York City, but to the ends of the earth.
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