Church Here, There, and Everywhere: Being LDS in China
By Belinda Wong, BYU Meridian Correspondent

I don’t know how many of you have attended sacrament meeting every week sitting on a couch in someone’s living room or having your Young Women meet on a bed. 

Or how about this — have you had to find your shoes among a hundred other black pairs, after you have had to take your shoes off for church? 

Having lived in three cities in mainland China where the Church is not officially recognized, these are just some of the experiences that I’ve had.  Despite these somewhat unusual meeting environments, I have found that what Jesus Christ said holds true, for “where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20). 

As long as we are gathered together as Saints in his church, it doesn’t matter where we are. 

When my family went to live in Shanghai, I was still in Primary.  To my delight, I found out that church (strictly for expatriates) was conducted at a friend’s house.  It tickled me to see the same room where we had had a sleepover just the night before transformed into a Primary room the next day.  I loved the fact that we got to sit on big, fat, luxurious sleep-inducing couches for sacrament meeting. 

When we had to have sacrament one week at my apartment, I was even more excited — I felt important. 

The novelty of all of this soon became part of routine, however, and I no longer became distracted by the many decorations and odds and ends of having church at someone’s apartment.   Ordinances, meetings, and lessons were still the same as in any other church, and I took comfort from this: I knew that church was the real thing, even when there was no real pulpit or church benches. 

Tianjin brought another experience of church altogether.  This time, the challenge wasn’t in the environment (which was still at someone’s house), but in the numbers of the members.  I was one of three Young Women; if I didn’t attend church, our numbers were cut by one-third. 

The Young Men even had it worse; there was one. 

Did I get tired of the same people giving talks or offering prayers? I must admit, I sometimes did.   What tried my patience even more was the fact that every talk had to be translated either from Chinese to English or vice versa, for the Taiwanese members of the branch.  For those who understood both languages, it was dull repetition. 

Several members traveled hours one-way to attend church.  Even the more fortunate of us had to travel two hours one way to Beijing for stake conferences.  I knew that this was nothing compared to the stories of Saints in other countries who travel days to attend church conferences, but cramped in a distorted position with four other people in the back seat for two hours, I felt as if I were among the most patient Saints in the world. 

I always itched to be outside when I was in church, but the faces of the other members revealed no such similar desire.  Inwardly, I applauded the members for their faith and their integrity.  Those members taught me something. They taught me the importance of attending church meetings.  Their attendance strengthened my testimony of the gospel.  If the church isn’t true, then I can’t imagine the extent of fortitude and perseverance a true organization requires of its members.

The fact that the meeting place at Beijing had a pulpit and “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” was actually on a displayed plaque made me feel as though I was in advanced society.  Members who needed translations could wear a headset, leaving more normal time allotments for talks.  I never felt as though I was missing out on anything. 

The Young Women experience in Beijing was almost identical to Young Women in Hong Kong, or in Salt Lake City.  We laughed and learned the way girls all over the world must do.  Sitting around the table every Sunday, the beautiful voices of the girls would lift in clear harmony as we sang the opening hymn.  Such beautiful voices were found no matter which Young Women meeting I attended. 

Other places besides China have confirmed to me the divine and inspired structure that the Church possesses.  I’m attending Brigham Young University right now, where the wards, obviously, consist of one overwhelming demographic group — young adults.  Sometimes I feel as if the bishopric is quite literally babysitting us; yet I am still amazed that the quality of church meetings is never hindered by our youth and inexperience.  

The numerous holidays that I have spent in Australia have likewise confirmed to me the uniform nature of our church.  Despite the fact that their captivating accents prove quite a distraction, the speakers there invite the same spirit to the meeting. 

My experiences in such diverse places as Provo, Sydney and Beijing have taught me that the gospel is universal.   The truth of our gospel doctrine is the same no matter where we are, no matter how small or big our membership is.  Sometimes, sitting in Sunday School, I imagine the Saints in some apartment in China, learning the same lesson that I am learning — whether it is on temple ordinances, the Second Book of Nephi, or the prophet Heber J. Grant.  

Sometimes I think we have the mindset that this church belongs to us who reside here in the American continent — that it is “ours.”  It isn’t.  It is God’s, and God loves that boy in Tianjin, Ghana, or Tahiti, just as much as He loves me.

I wouldn’t give up those years in China for anything.  People gasp and inquire what church is like in China when they find out that I’ve lived there.  To them I say, “It’s the same.  Church everywhere is the same.”  Well — maybe. Except for that time when I increased the Mia Maid population by 200 percent just by turning 14.