初谈宋尚节
（接上文）
宋尚节墓园纪念馆
南京是我生活过7年的地方，20年前我从南京神学院毕业离开这座城市。2025年6月6日，我再次来到南京这座历史名城。故地重游，尽管物是人非，“人面不知何处去”，但“桃花依旧笑春风”。这里的一草一木依然如此熟悉亲切，这里喝的水都是甜的。那天晚上，我的同学带我参观南京市中心新街口百货对面的德基广场（Deji Plaza）。这里让我这个久住美国的“乡巴佬”大开眼界，有一种“刘姥姥进大观园”的惊讶与赞叹。广场内的洗手间不叫洗手间，叫“解忧所”。三楼“格序织造坊”的“解忧所”，主题围绕“编织”与时装美学展开。五楼 的“解忧所”前陈设一架“古典钢琴”，通过克莱因蓝与摩登金的色彩碰撞，营造出既优雅又前卫的氛围。八楼推出与艺术家 Beeple 联名的“解忧所”，融入超现实主义艺术风格，是全国首个此类艺术联名盥(guàn)洗空间。八楼的德基艺术博物馆是Beeple全球首展——“来自人造未来的故事”(Tales From a Synthetic Future)，它是将现代科技与历史文化融汇的艺术空间，在 Beeple 的作品中，政治人物、卡通形象、电子游戏角色、宗教符号、科技产品一起形成一种“视觉过载”的效果，是典型后现代去中心化、多元并置。置身于人类自己所构建的令人眼花缭乱的后现代文明之中，每个个体显得格外渺小。在泡沫式高度发展或竞争激烈的大都市里，人们面临的精神压力与日俱增，焦虑与抑郁群体的比例呈上升趋势。
在感恩与赞叹祖国经济腾飞的同时，我心灵深处却对亿万同胞灵魂的得救充满忧虑。我不禁要问：人真的能“人定胜天”吗？当人类不断营造自己高大雄伟的“巴别塔”时，若心中没有上帝，那将是何等可怕的光景！正如俄国作家陀思妥耶夫斯基在小说《卡拉马佐夫兄弟》（The Brothers Karamazov, 1880）中所发出的灵魂呐喊：“如果没有上帝，人就可以为所欲为了”（If God does not exist, everything is permitted）。在集体努力所带来的高科技发展光环之下，每一个个体灵魂的归向又在何处？诚如奥古斯丁所言：“神啊，我的心若不归向你，便永远也得不着安息！”
带着受到后现代文明的冲击和拷问，我乘上来南京开往福州的飞机，开始了拜访宋尚节墓园的心灵之旅。快到福州长乐机场了，我心里有一点儿小激动。终于有机会可以亲眼看一看福建这个令我着迷的省份了。我这个出生在东北黑龙江的人，真的可以从南方的福建人身上学到许多宝贵的功课。快下飞机了，我主动和身边的乘客聊了起来。我直接问他说：“你有去教会吗？”他说：“我偶尔去过。”
他问我说：“你来福州干什么？”
我说：“我来参观宋尚节墓园。”
他反问说：“宋尚节是谁？他很有名吗？”
如果我说宋尚节是化学博士，这对宋尚节没有多大意义；如果我说宋尚节是布道家， 这对那个人没有多大意义。
我和他说：“宋尚节是一个真正活出基督的人。他活着时曾影响10多万人信耶稣。他活得很有价值。”接着，我仔细把宋尚节的见证分享给他。临别前，我不忘鼓励他有机会多去教会敬拜上帝。他也礼貌性地答应了。
我曾以为，大多数福建人都已经远赴海外。然而事实却是，大部分福建人依然扎根于故土，在家乡辛勤耕耘，建设着自己美丽的土地。
晚上7点，我在长乐机场与我的学生乔治牧师汇合。他开车载我们一起前往宋尚节的故乡——莆田市的笏石镇（从“笏石镇”到宋尚节出生的福州市福清市新厝镇凤迹村公路距离大约 47-50 公里）。大约晚上9点，我们见到了接待我们的吴传道，他驱车载我们前往莆田市秀屿区笏石镇坑北村的小山上。那晚正值阴历十三，月亮格外圆满明亮。在皎洁的月光下，我们下了车，沿着一道狭窄的台阶乡间小路缓步而行。这一情景让我不由自主地想起耶稣的话：“你们要进窄门；因为引到灭亡，那门是宽的，路是大的，进去的人也多；引导永生，那门是窄的，路是小的，找着的人也少”（太7:13-14）。
眼前就是宋尚节墓园纪念馆了！宋尚节的棺椁就安放这间小房子里了。远远望去，它朴素无华，仿佛与周围的田野融为一体，也与现代都市中高楼林立、灯火辉煌的南京德基广场形成了强烈对比。小房子没有雕饰，没有金碧辉煌的装潢，却透出一种宁静而庄严的氛围，让人不由自主地静下心来，心生敬畏。门前立着一块长牌子：“宋尚节博士归天80周年”，简简单单，却让人感受到岁月沉淀下的深厚敬意。或许，这正体现了神仆人的独特——生前廉洁朴素，去世后依然谦卑而不张扬。站在这里，人们容易想起那条十字架的道路：舍己、谦卑、专注高举基督，而非追求世俗的荣华。此刻，这小小的安放之地若能让人因这份简朴而重新反思信仰的核心，这里便已完成它应有的意义。
纪念室进门有一副对联：“神家瑰宝作柱石，历尽磨难脚踪美”。屋里分上下两层：楼上和地下室。楼上一进屋，印入眼帘的是对面墙上挂着的十字架。宋尚节的生平制作成作一个系列，以10副图画配文字的形式张贴在左右两边的墙上，包括“从出生到赴美留学之前”（1901-1920），“美国留学的七年”（1920-1927）、“回国在福建传道三年”（1927-1930）、“与伯特利布道团合作的三年”（1930-1933）、“神独自引领”（1933-1940）、“离世归主前三年”（1940-1944）。
楼下地下室对面墙上有宋尚节的照片，照片两侧是另一幅对联：“敢于地府摇旌旗，勇向天国写文章”。左右两面墙上分别有两幅很大的画：一副“弃荣报国”画着宋尚节归国时将博士钥匙及相关证书投入大海的一幕。另一幅“东岩异象”画的则是1922年感恩节宋尚节在美留学期间所梦见的异象：
他走在兴化东岩山巅，听见有呼叫声，便连跌带冲、披荆斩棘地下山救人，发现自己浑身鲜血斑斑。小溪顿然变成汪洋，沉溺着各种民族的人，发出凄惨的呼救声。他焦急祷告：‘神啊，我愿奉你的使命，得你的臂助，去救那与恶浪挣扎的千万人。’霎那间，自己变成小孩、罪犯，全身被锁链捆绑！突起血红的十字架自远而近，自高而下，其上写着八个大字‘仰望十架，往前奔跑’。一霎间，锁链不砍而断，那时十字架已漂泊在大海中心，好像一块磁石，吸引着水里的人们，十字架扩充到全部海面，终于不再见到海水，成了一片花香鸟语的乐园……这就是天堂吧……人们在互相拥抱握手，有许多人跑来与他握手，宋尚节发现他们竟然都是中国人，还有许多是兴化的邻居、亲友、同学。
宋尚节的灵柩就安放在这里，置于两层大理石砌成的台座之上。灵柩乳白泛黄的木质表面经过重新打磨，显得格外光洁，并由透明玻璃罩妥善覆盖。令人惊叹的是，这口灵柩曾经在泥土中埋藏长达半个多世纪，直到被重新发掘时，竟依然保存完好——这本身就是神迹。
曾有人总结约翰卫斯理的话说：“给我100个除了罪恶别无所惧，除了上帝别无所慕的人，不管他们是传道人还是平信徒，他们将要震动地狱的大门，并在地上建立天上的国度。”宋尚节岂不就是那位除了罪恶无所惧，除了上帝无所慕的天国战士吗？
在这庄严肃穆之地，我不由得跪在台阶前向上帝祈祷：
“主啊，感谢你在20世纪的中国兴起宋尚节作为献祭者献给主！
主啊，求你赦免我的罪，洁净我的心，使我再次将自己的身心灵献给你！
主啊，求你给我一颗像宋尚节那样爱你的心！
求你在21世纪的今天使更多的人在你的祭坛前，纯粹、圣洁、毫无保留地将自己献上，和你的仆人一同燃烧！”
（未完待续）
9/14/25 Pastor’s Word
An Initial Reflection on John Sung
(continued from the above)
John Sung Memorial and Cemetery
Nanjing is the city where I once lived for seven years, and it has been twenty years since I left this place after graduating from Nanjing Theological Seminary. On June 6, 2025, I once again set foot in this historic city. Returning to familiar ground, though people and circumstances have changed—“the face is gone, but the peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze”—everything here remains deeply familiar and dear to me. Even the water I drank still seemed sweet. That evening, a classmate took me to visit Deji Plaza, opposite the Xinjiekou Department Store in downtown Nanjing.
For someone like me, who has lived in the United States for many years, Deji Plaza was truly an eye-opener—like Granny Liu stepping into the Grand View Garden. The restrooms inside the plaza were not called “Cesuo”(“washrooms”) but “Jieyousuo” (“Rooms of Solace”). On the third floor, the “Room of Solace” in the “GeXu Weaving Workshop” carried the theme of weaving and fashion aesthetics. On the fifth floor, a classical piano was placed at the entrance of the restroom, with the interplay of Klein blue and modern gold creating an atmosphere that was both elegant and avant-garde. On the eighth floor, in collaboration with the artist Beeple, a “Room of Solace” was presented in a surrealist style, the first such artistic restroom in the country. On the same floor, the Deji Art Museum was hosting Beeple’s first global exhibition, Tales From a Synthetic Future. This museum blends modern technology with historical culture, and in Beeple’s works, political figures, cartoon characters, video game avatars, religious symbols, and technological products collide to create a sense of “visual overload,” a hallmark of postmodernism’s decentralization and plurality.
Standing amidst the dazzling civilization that humanity itself has constructed, the individual feels especially small. In bubble-like rapid development or the intense competition of megacities, people are under increasing psychological pressure, and the proportion of those struggling with anxiety and depression continues to rise.
Even as I give thanks and marvel at my nation’s economic rise, deep in my heart I cannot help but worry for the salvation of millions of souls. I ask myself: Can human beings truly “conquer heaven by their own will”? As humanity builds its lofty “Towers of Babel,” what a terrifying state it would be if there were no God in the human heart! As the Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky cried out in The Brothers Karamazov (1880): “If God does not exist, everything is permitted.” Under the dazzling glow of high-tech achievements born of collective effort, where, then, lies the turning of each individual soul? As Augustine once said: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”
With this shock and questioning from postmodern civilization, I boarded a plane from Nanjing to Fuzhou, beginning my spiritual journey to visit the tomb of John Sung. As the plane neared Fuzhou Changle Airport, I felt a stir of excitement—finally, I would have the opportunity to see with my own eyes the province of Fujian, which had long fascinated me. As a native of Heilongjiang in Northeast China, I knew I could learn many valuable lessons from the people of this southern land. As the plane was about to land, I struck up a conversation with the passenger next to me. I asked directly: “Do you go to church?” He replied, “I’ve been a few times.”
He then asked me, “What brings you to Fuzhou?”
I answered, “I’ve come to visit the tomb of John Sung.”
He asked again, “Who is John Sung? Is he famous?”
I thought to myself: if I said John Sung was a PhD on Chemistry, that would mean little to Sung; if I said John Sung was an evangelist, that would mean little to him.
So, I said, “John Sung was a man who truly lived out Christ. During his lifetime, God used him to lead over one hundred thousand people to faith in Jesus. He lived a life of great worth.” I then carefully shared John Sung’s testimony with him. Before we parted, I encouraged him to attend church more often to worship God. He politely agreed.
I had once assumed that most Fujianese had gone abroad. Yet the truth is, the majority remain rooted in their homeland, diligently cultivating and building their beautiful land.
At 7 p.m., I met my student, Pastor George, at Changle Airport. He drove us to John Sung’s hometown—Hushi Town in Putian City (the road distance from Hushi Town to Fengji Village, Xincuo Town, Fuqing City, Fuzhou, where John Sung was born, is approximately 47-50 kilometers). Around 9 p.m., we met Minister Wu, who welcomed us and drove us to Kengbei Village, Hushi Town, Putian City on a small hill. That night was the 13th day of the lunar calendar, and the moon shone especially round and bright. In the clear moonlight, we stepped out of the car and walked slowly along a narrow country path of stone steps. The scene brought to my mind the words of Jesus: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matt. 7:13–14).
Right ahead is the John Sung Memorial and Cemetery! John Sung’s coffin is placed inside this small building.” From a distance it looked plain and unadorned, blending into the surrounding fields, a stark contrast to the towering skyscrapers and glittering lights of Nanjing’s Deji Plaza. The house had no ornate carvings or lavish decoration, yet it radiated a solemn tranquility that compelled reverence. At the entrance stood a simple plaque: “In Memory of the 80th Anniversary of Dr. John Sung’s Homegoing.” Its simplicity carried a profound sense of honor born of time. Perhaps this was precisely the mark of God’s servant: humble and frugal in life, and still unassuming in death. Standing there, one could not help but think of the way of the cross—self-denial, humility, and the single-minded exaltation of Christ, not the pursuit of worldly glory. If this modest resting place could inspire people to reflect once more on the core of faith, then it has fulfilled its sacred purpose.
At the entrance of the memorial room hung a couplet:
“Treasure of God’s house, a pillar stone;
Through trials and hardships, your footsteps shine.”
The room had two levels: an upstairs hall and a basement. Upstairs, one’s eyes were immediately drawn to a cross hanging on the opposite wall. John Sung’s life was displayed in a series of ten illustrated panels along the side walls: “From Birth to Departure for America (1901–1920),” “Seven Years of Study in the U.S. (1920–1927),” “Three Years of Preaching in Fujian (1927–1930),” “Three Years with the Bethel Evangelistic Band (1930–1933),” “Led by God Alone (1933–1940),” and “The Final Three Years Before Going to Be with the Lord (1940–1944).”
In the basement, a photo of John Sung hung on the wall, flanked by another couplet:
“Dare to raise the banner against hell;
Bravely write the testimony of heaven.”
On the side walls hung two large paintings. One, Renouncing Honor to Serve the Nation, depicted John Sung throwing his doctoral key and related certificates into the ocean upon returning to China. The other, The Vision of Dongyan, portrayed the vision he saw during Thanksgiving in 1922 while studying in America:
He dreamt of walking on the peak of Dongyan Mountain in Xinghua, when he heard cries for help. He rushed down the mountain, stumbling and tearing through thorns, his body covered in blood. A brook turned into a vast ocean, where people of all nations were drowning and crying out in agony. He prayed anxiously: ‘O God, I am willing to receive Your mission and Your power to save the multitudes struggling in the raging waves.’ Suddenly, he himself became a child, a criminal, bound in chains! Then a blood-red cross appeared, drawing near from afar, descending from above, with the words inscribed: ‘Look to the Cross, Run the Race.’ In an instant the chains broke. The cross floated in the midst of the sea like a magnet, attracting the drowning multitudes. The cross expanded until it filled the entire ocean, transforming the waters into a fragrant paradise of flowers and birds. ‘This must be heaven…’ People embraced and shook hands, and many came to grasp his hand. To his amazement, they were Chinese—many were his own neighbors, relatives, and classmates from Xinghua.
John Sung’s coffin rests here, placed upon a two-tier marble platform. Its pale yellow wooden surface has been carefully polished, and it is covered with a transparent glass casing. Astonishingly, though it had been buried underground for more than half a century, when it was unearthed it remained completely intact—this itself is a miracle.
Someone once paraphrased John Wesley’s words: “Give me one hundred men who fear nothing but sin and desire nothing but God, and I care not whether they be clergymen or laymen—they alone will shake the gates of hell and set up the kingdom of heaven upon earth.” Was not John Sung just such a warrior of the kingdom, who feared nothing but sin and desired nothing but God?
In this solemn and sacred place, I could not help but kneel on the steps and pray to God:
“Lord, I thank You for raising up John Sung in twentieth-century China as a living sacrifice unto You!
Lord, forgive my sins, cleanse my heart, and once again I offer my body, soul, and spirit to You!
Lord, grant me a heart that loves You as John Sung did!
And Lord, in this twenty-first century, raise up many more who will, with purity, holiness, and without reserve, offer themselves on Your altar, burning together with Your servant for Your glory!”
(To be continued)