Christ Crucified in China
By Theresa Marie Moreau
First published in The Remnant Newspaper
October - December 2012
Communism is not love. Communism is a hammer,
which we use to crush the enemy.
-- Chairman Zedong Mao
Time Magazine, September 13, 1963
“Number 494! Number 495!” called a policeman, standing in the middle of Xuhui District Police Station. “Pack your things. Today, I permit you to see each other.”
It was January 25, 1969, when Wenli “Eddie” Chen, No. 495, packed his few possessions – underwear, comforter, towel, toothbrush, soap and white enamel cup with a blue colored-lip – into his barely used, 1940s duffle bag, with a top zipper and handle. He stood inside his cell, waiting.
“Go! Go! Go!” ordered the policeman, after he unlocked the door.
Chen hurried outdoors, toward a large, olive green wagon, which resembled a World War II ambulance, with the doors in the back. He stepped inside and saw his best friend, Jijia “Joseph” Wu, No. 494, who was thin, kind of short and wore eyeglasses that gave him the appearance of an owl.
With a lurch, the wagon sped toward Shanghai’s Jiao Tong University, where Chen, Wu and several others, with their arms cuffed behind their backs, formed a line up on the stage, facing an audience, which included Chen’s mother. Behind each suspect stood a soldier, and in back of the soldiers, a man Chen never saw, who read out – in staccato voce – the sentences.