“Many Chinese churches place great emphasis on ‘truth’ and ‘goodness’ in their teaching and practice, yet they pay less attention to ‘beauty.’” Complaints of this kind are not uncommon. The Chinese church strives to defend doctrinal purity and earnestly emphasizes moral standards and the sanctification of life. When the discussion turns to art, the senses, form, and atmosphere, however, people often consider these matters secondary, or even somewhat unreliable.
This “absence of beauty” often reflects itself in many details of church life. Pulpit messages prioritize theological rigor—which is, of course, important—yet the worship space often appears crude and monotonous. Various utilitarian segments frequently fill the worship program. The selection of hymns prioritizes doctrinal correctness, but it does not necessarily care whether the melody possesses aesthetic value, and the musical accompaniment often merely fulfills a basic function. From Sunday bulletins to Communion vessels, in many churches I have encountered, co-workers often first evaluate only whether these items are “sufficient for use,” rather than whether they can also help people experience the solemnity and glory of worship.
A Neglect Shaped by Survival
When looking back at the history of the Chinese church, we see that this neglect of art and aesthetics did not actually develop by accident. Over the past century, war, poverty, and social turmoil made “survival” and “national salvation” the most urgent matters for the entire society. In such a context, art—which can neither be eaten nor worn—naturally struggled to become a priority if it lacked immediate utility. This social atmosphere also entered the church. People often viewed art as a dispensable luxury; in severe cases, they even treated it as a deviation from spiritual priorities.
The Usefulness of “Useless” Beauty
The most valuable aspect of art lies, however, precisely in the fact that it does not entirely submit to utilitarian logic—it often appears “useless.”1 For this very reason, it instead reminds us that human beings do not live merely to produce, to solve problems, or to see immediate results. The value of beauty does not always need to prove itself through external utility. Zhuangzi provides a very good reminder here when he speaks of “the usefulness of the useless”—a large tree that is unsuitable for timber survives precisely because people do not consume it for utilitarian purposes. Instead, it provides shade and fulfills its own existence.
The Bible actually affirms this seemingly “useless” beauty as well. The Gospel of Mark records that Mary of Bethany broke an alabaster jar and poured very costly ointment of nard on Jesus’s head (Mark 14:3-9). Bystanders immediately questioned her from a utilitarian perspective: “Why was this ointment wasted in this way?” Yet Jesus called this a “beautiful deed.”2 He did not view this action as an unprofitable waste; rather, he saw the love, honor, and appropriateness within it. To the bystanders, this was not cost-effective; to the Lord, however, it was beautiful.
When Beauty Becomes Kitsch
It would not be entirely fair if we said that the Chinese church completely lacks aesthetics. A more common situation is perhaps the other extreme: the church does not lack visual expression, but it lacks a mature and honest aesthetic sense. Cheap and kitsch religious imagery and design often take its place. The problem with kitsch is not merely that the style looks tacky. Rather, it frequently lacks honesty, fails to respect reality, and even reduces faith to emotional manipulation or visual consumption. This also relates to a very subtle exchange mentality within church culture. I do not mean a public denial of grace. Instead, in our practical life of faith, we often unconsciously understand spiritual disciplines as an exchange of investment and return. Consequently, serving and working easily and gradually lose their true flavor, as expectations and calculations of “I should receive as much as I have given” become mixed in.
For this very reason, “uselessness” does not necessarily mean worthlessness; instead, it safeguards the most important element in the faith. When coming before God, we do not first ask what we can do for him. Rather, we first learn to exist quietly before him, to receive his love, and to enjoy him. If worship, art, silence, and hymns are left with only the single standard of “whether they are effective,” we have actually strayed very far from the core of the gospel. When the Chinese church, influenced by pragmatism, habitually asks “how many conversions can this painting or poem actually bring about,” we have drifted very far from a heart that simply thirsts for Christ. If the church wants to relearn beauty, therefore, it probably must do more than merely add some designs or art activities. It must rethink: do we ultimately view beauty as a tool, or as a response offered to God?
Formation Beyond Information
James K. A. Smith once reminded us that human beings are not primarily thinking machines, but rather beings who desire and love.3 If the church merely wants to use more information and more comprehensive sermons to counter the formative power of secular culture, this is often still insufficient. This is because concepts do not solely shape human beings—rhythm, space, repetition, sound, and bodily habits also shape them. This is also why the church needs to reemphasize the dimensions of time, space, the body, and habit. Through the church calendar, hymns, silence, blank space, and even some seemingly minor liturgical movements, our bodies and senses can slowly enter a different order of life and a different imagination of the world.
From Useful Art to Aesthetic Repentance
In recent years, many Chinese churches have significantly upgraded their hardware facilities. Modern worship and multimedia visuals have long become the norm, and some churches have even established arts ministries. These efforts are not without value. In many cases, however, people still treat art as packaging to attract young people, or merely as a visual aid alongside the sermon. Furthermore, people often treat artists as technicians responsible for executing effects. The church desires “useful art,” yet it has not necessarily prepared itself to accept the rhythm, depth, and freedom of art itself.
If today’s Chinese church wants to experience true renewal in art and culture, must it first undergo an aesthetic repentance? Is the church willing to make room again for this seemingly “useless” beauty, allowing artists to grow slowly in a soil free from performance pressure, without having to deliver immediate results?
To break out of the inertia formed in the past, we need to look outward as well as backward. Looking outward means seeing how some churches do not treat art merely as a tool, but genuinely equip artists, encourage them to pursue excellence in broader cultural fields, and view their entire artistic life as worship to God.4 Looking backward means cherishing the Chinese people’s own cultural soil anew. For example, concepts in traditional Chinese aesthetics such as “leaving blank space” (liubai), “emptiness and stillness” (xujing), “grasping the meaning and forgetting the words” (deyi wangyan), “words cannot fully express the meaning” (yan bu jinyi), and that ineffable “flavor beyond flavor” (weiwai zhiwei) do not necessarily equate directly to Christian theology. In terms of modes of perception, however, they can indeed initiate a very interesting dialogue with the silence, mystery, and reverence that Christianity values.
Relearning How to Look, Listen, and Wait
If aesthetics is truly to enter church life, aesthetic education cannot remain merely the interest of a few; rather, it should become part of the church’s daily discipleship. The formation of disciples involves not only the accumulation of knowledge but also the awakening of the senses and the restoration of the imagination. Ultimately, this is also an exercise in attention. In an era flooded with short videos, we are increasingly unaccustomed to looking slowly and patiently, nor are we accustomed to lingering very long before a poem, a painting, or a period of silence. Yet true attention is never in vain. As the church relearns how to look, listen, and wait, the disciples’ perception of beauty will also slowly awaken.
In the final analysis, the Chinese church needs more than just decorating its chapels with better taste or hosting a few more art exhibitions; we need a deep “aesthetic repentance.” We need to repent of our past mentality that reduced faith to utility and pragmatism, and we must acknowledge anew that beauty has never been a peripheral ornament to the gospel. Instead, it is a grace that God uses to awaken human hearts and expand the imagination. When we are willing to make room for God in those seemingly “useless” beautiful things, we might then truly experience what it means to worship purely before the Creator, and what it means to foretaste the incomparable glory of the future new heaven and new earth.
- The philosopher Immanuel Kant described beauty as a “purposiveness without purpose”: true beauty does not depend on any external utilitarian purpose but is an end in itself. See Immanuel Kant, Critique of the Power of Judgment, trans. Paul Guyer and Eric Matthews, ed. Paul Guyer, The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Immanuel Kant (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 105–6 (AA 5:220–21). For a discussion of the concept of “purposiveness without purpose” in Kant’s aesthetics, see Rachel Zuckert, “Kant’s Aesthetics and Teleology,” in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. Edward N. Zalta and Uri Nodelman (Fall 2023 ed.), accessed May 11, 2026, https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2023/entries/kant-aesthetics/.
- The term used in Mark 14:6 is καλὸν ἔργον (kalon ergon). Kalos can be translated not only as “good” but also as “beautiful,” “noble,” and “admirable.” See Joseph Henry Thayer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament (New York: American Book Company, 1889), s.v. “καλός”; and Novum Testamentum Graece, 28th rev. ed., ed. Barbara Aland et al. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2012), Mark 14:6.
- “…we are primarily desiring animals…” See James K. A. Smith, Desiring the Kingdom: Worship, Worldview, and Cultural Formation (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009), 9, http://public.ebookcentral.proquest.com/choice/publicfullrecord.aspx?p=3117100.
- We might draw upon the paradigm of Redeemer Presbyterian Church: the church does not use art, but rather equips artists, encouraging them to pursue excellence in secular art circles and to view their entire artistic careers as worship to God. For example, their Center for Faith & Work, Redeemer Presbyterian Church, “Who We Are” and “Vocation Groups,” explains its role as the church’s “cultural renewal arm” and promotes faith-and-work integration across various vocational fields, including the arts.
