Disability as a Fundamental Anthropological Situation: Shi Tiesheng’s Christian-­Philosophical Reflection

Motivation and Introduction

“When we see this man, first of all, the basis of what we know of him is his wheelchair.” This is how he was described by Pipi 皮皮,¹ his long-­time friend and equally brilliant writer. With a touch of self-­irony, he described himself as “a professional patient who writes in his spare time.”² There is no doubt that Shi Tiesheng 史铁生 (January 4, 1951-­December 31, 2010) belongs to the ranks of the most renowned novelists in contemporary China. His work The Temple of Earth and Me (Wo yu ditan 我与地坛),³ which gained great popularity by being included in the compulsory reading collection for secondary school Chinese classes, is considered by many literary critics to be one of the best Chinese prose writings of the 20th century. For the broad Chinese population, two general impressions stand out about Shi: Firstly, Shi as a disabled writer—as implied by Pipi in the opening quote—who struggled with his illness throughout his life. And secondly, Shi as an intellectual writer who, contrary to the state-­prescribed atheist-­Marxist ideology, remarkably resorted to a Christian-­philosophical vocabulary in his literary work.⁴ This combination inevitably raises the interesting question of how Shi’s physical disability is connected to his distinctive and clearly Christian-­inspired perspectives.

Despite its significant importance in mainland China, explicit research contributions on Shi Tiesheng in the Western world are scarce. Some analyses of Shi’s works have been conducted from a purely literary perspective.⁵ The theological-­philosophical dimension of his works remains largely unexplored. A more recent and enlightening essay by Chen Lang focuses on Shi’s religious vocabulary but emphasizes its critical perspective in post-­socialist China.⁶ Chloë Starr’s article concentrates on intertextual interests, examining Shi’s portrayal of human nature in some of his novels and non-­fiction books.⁷This present investigation takes into account these previous research findings on Shi Tiesheng, but adds new aspects, differing from the previous ones in both its thematic emphasis and methodological approach.

The thematic focus lies on Shi Tiesheng’s inner logical reasoning between his physical disability and his Christian-­religious contemplative reflections, set against the backdrop of “Disability Theology.” Additionally, the potential connection points with the Christian faith of his works will be exemplified. Methodologically, a small number of essential Christian-­philosophical topics in Shi’s works (such as human, body-­soul, sin, God) serve as heuristic frameworks; that is, by examining several representative works, both the meanings and interconnections of these concepts are highlighted and analyzed.⁸ The aim of this study is to introduce Shi as one of the most influential twentieth-­century Chinese writers, who has a physical disability and employs a Christian-­inspired language, to an intercultural-­theologically interested audience. Uncovering the argumentative context of his central religious terminology not only demonstrates its relevance for the Christian faith in the seemingly atheist-­influenced mainland China but also serves as a fruitful source of inspiration for a broader exploration of “Disability Theology.”

Before analyzing some central religious terms that recur in Shi Tiesheng’s works, a brief overview of his biography and the context of his literary activity will be presented.

Biography and Context

Shi was born in Beijing in 1951 and initially attended Tsinghua University High School as a young adult. One of the most transformative experiences of his life appears to have taken place during the Cultural Revolution, when he was sent to a rural area in Shaanxi as one of the 33,000 youths known as “educated youth” (zhishi qingnian 知识青年, abbreviated as zhiqing 知青).⁹ This was part of the “Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside Movement” (shangshan xiaxiang yundong 上山下乡运动). Soon, Shi became aware that this re-­education movement was a man-­made catastrophe.¹⁰ Additionally, his physical paralysis resulted from an accident during his time in the countryside, and in 1971, at the young age of 21, he was sent back to Beijing due to his disability. The profound experiences of suffering and the ensuing “crisis of self,”¹¹ which he shared with the entire zhiqing generation, provided the initial impetus for his literary activity. He used writing as a tool of criticism against a social reality filled with injustice.

The political upheavals and societal transformation until the late 1970s formed the historical and cultural backdrop against which Shi Tiesheng’s thinking and writing gradually took shape. From the 1980s, Shi could be associated with the avant-­garde of “Scars Literature” (shanghen wenxue 伤痕文学) and the “Root-­Searching Literature” (xungen wenxue 寻根文学);¹² these literary movements aimed to process the traumatic experiences of the Cultural Revolution and explore the search for a new, tradition-­conscious identity. In his works, the focus often lies on humanity, which is juxtaposed against impersonal systems and structures with their devaluation of the human subject and inherent injustice and inequality. Within Shi’s writing, two characteristic aspects emerged that give contours to his numerous works: firstly, the theme of physical disability (both his own and that of his literary characters) with related reflections on body and soul, suffering, longing, and hope; secondly, his theological-­philosophical contemplation, particularly concerning the meaning of life.

The remarkable Christian references in terms of terminology and metaphor in Shi Tiesheng’s works correlate with the contemporary historical context of the rapid growth of Christianity in China, particularly since the opening-­up policy in the late 1970s. The interest in Christianity also grew in Chinese academic and intellectual circles, eventually leading to the so-­called Sino-­Christian theology or “cultural-­Christian movement.”¹³ It is known that influential figures in this movement, such as Liu Xiaofeng 刘小枫, had a significant impact on Shi.¹⁴ Despite the strong Christian influence in his texts, Shi is not perceived as a strictly Christian writer but rather as a Christian humanist. Some researchers observe in his occasionally philosophical and speculative writings a tendency towards eclectic syncretism, drawing from traditional Chinese philosophy.¹⁵ Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the Christian faith had a substantial impact on Shi’s worldview. His works, with their rich Christian vocabulary, offer opportunities for connection with the Christian faith in modern China.

When attempting to categorize Shi’s works within the framework proposed by Couser,¹⁶ the contrast with many American authors with disabilities becomes striking.¹⁷ Based on his examination of writings by American authors with spinal cord injuries in the 1980s and 1990s, Couser distinguishes between two fundamental paradigms: the paradigm of conversion and the political paradigm.¹⁸ In the first paradigm, emphasis is placed on a “personal success story,”¹⁹ wherein the narrative centers on triumph over disability. The second paradigm, closely connected to the disability rights movement, addresses group-­based prejudices in the concrete socio-­political context. Couser points out that within the first paradigm, religious vocabulary, religious imagery, and metaphors are often employed. In Christian circles, physical disability and its conquest are interpreted as a God-­intended test, healing as a manifestation of God’s grace, or as a transitional stage to a higher perspective on life. The theological-­hermeneutical horizon of this first paradigm contrasts with the often secular-­humanist call for solidarity in the political paradigm. Chen argues in her essay that Shi’s works, although partially written during the same time as those described by Couser and his American counterparts, cannot be clearly assigned to a single paradigm.²⁰

The use of religious vocabulary (typical of paradigm 1) in Shi’s works is always intertwined with socio-­political criticism of injustice and a demand for solidarity (paradigm 2).

The following discussion provides another addition to this perspective: It can be demonstrated that Shi’s exploration of physical disability is not only linked to a profound socio-­political concern but also leads to a fundamental reflection on anthropological constitution in general. His argumentation will be further examined in the following.

Reflection on Shi’s Religious Contemplation

The Disabled Individual

It is easy to construct a trivial and clichéd image of Shi based on stereotypical narratives—a man seen as an inspiring role model who, despite his disability, fought with strong determination and optimism, and whose writing was remarkably successful.²¹However, while Shi’s literary activity is undeniably intertwined with his identity as a “disabled individual,” this simplistic notion hardly suffices to explain his immense success. Firstly, Shi does not approach the issue of the “disabled individual” in his works as a “keep-­on-­going-­never-­give-­up” story.²² He does not deal with his physical impairment through denial or wishful thinking of imminent overcoming. On the contrary, with the sensitivity of a writer, he immerses himself in the sensations of his present condition, embracing and facing all the physical pains he endures. He candidly confronts the problem, engaging in profound contemplation with full authenticity. “Why me? What does all of this mean?”—These personal questions serve as the starting point for his anthropological reflection.²³

Secondly, what stands out as a remarkable aspect is that Shi does not stop at these personal questions; instead, he extends them into the realm of interpersonal relationships and human existence as a whole. The bold fundamental thesis, which likely summarizes the core message of Shi’s numerous writings, is as follows: All humans are crippled and disabled.²⁴ Indeed, in this generalizing statement, two dimensions can be discerned in Shi’s work.

One dimension is socially and politically oriented, rooted in the socio-­political discrimination that Shi faced in his early years in communist China. This collective experience of trauma from political movements, reflected in millions of other people, also accounts for the popularity of Shi’s works. The intertwining of the identity of a disabled individual with that of a socially and politically oppressed individual sheds even stronger light on the existing injustice and inequality. His concern was to expose the cruelty and absurdity of a society constantly marked by segregations (between the rich and poor, the “talented” and “disabled”) that even revolutions and class struggles could not overcome.²⁵ As Chen comments, for Shi “the despair and pain of political or economic outcasts denied access to resources [. . .] are not different from those of people with paraplegia obstructed by stairs and curbs [. . .].”²⁶ From his own experience of disability, he develops a special sense of sympathy and empathy for those who are socially marginalized and discriminated against.

The generalizing element in his works also contains a reflexive-­metaphysical, existential dimension. Shi is evidently influenced by some existentialist philosophers such as Søren Kierkegaard, Martin Heidegger, Albert Camus, as well as Arthur Schopenhauer and Friedrich Nietzsche.²⁷ Starting from his personal illness, a fact he cannot change, Shi poses a question that concerns us all: the meaning and purpose of life. For Shi, all humans are crippled and disabled, primarily because everyone is exposed to fundamental loneliness.²⁸ Human beings come into the world alone, and despite having family and friends, perfect interpersonal understanding seems hardly attainable. Moreover, facing impending death, one’s own experience appears incommunicable. In Heidegger’s vocabulary, it is always the “jemeinige Tod [my own death].”²⁹

Secondly, it is undeniable and unalterable that humans cannot avoid this death. With death, the possibility or design space of a human being is marked out. The original, inexplicable desire not to die is bounded alongside other longings by an insurmountable limit.³⁰

These contradictions are what humans must live with; this is the fundamental state of disability that affects all people. From these fundamental reflections, Shi demonstrates a remarkable openness towards transcendence, religion, and God concerning anthropological constitution.

Before addressing Shi’s concept of God, I would first like to turn to his interpretation of limitation and the Christian terminology of sin, which serves as another building block for his overall argumentation.

Sin and Limitation

Dear . . . blind children, we are friends. I am also disabled; I haven’t been able to walk since I turned 21 and have been in a wheelchair for another 21 years now. . . . We are friends, not because we are all disabled, but because all healthy people are our friends, and all people should be friends. What is a disability? A disability is nothing more than a limitation. You want to see, but you can’t see. What about me? I want to walk, but I can’t. What about healthy people who want to fly but can’t? This is a metaphor to say that even healthy people have limitations, and these limitations also bring them difficulties and problems. . . . So, all people are equal, and we are nothing special.³¹

In a letter-­essay addressed to children with visual impairments, Shi explains his original perception of human disability, which he interprets as limitation (Chinese: juxian局限). The generalizing element is evident here as well: the supposed dichotomy and segregation between “healthy” or “normal” individuals and “disabled” individuals are deconstructed, as every person is limited and, thus, disabled in one way or another.³² It is noteworthy that Shi’s concept of limitation bears a significant resemblance to the so-­called limits model, as categorized by Deborah Beth Creamer.³³ In this model, disability is seen as a constant aspect of the conditio humana: “Not only do our lives often progress toward impairment (e.g., as we age or take risks in life), but we are surrounded by limits (which we do not consistently describe as impairment) all the time.”³⁴ As an example, both Shi and Creamer mention the human desire to fly while simultaneously being unable to do so.³⁵

Shi’s originality lies in his conceptual intertwining of disability, limitation, and the Christian terminology of sin. The latter is not consistently used in his numerous writings and carries various aspects.³⁶ In any case, the concept of sin is by no means exclusively used negatively; in some instances, it is creatively interpreted as a universal anthropological and often healing limitation and imperfection. Shi’s use of language thus differs from that of someone like Nancy Eiesland, who, grounded in a liberal theological understanding, often omits or at least does not foreground the notion of sin, aiming to avoid any suggestion of a causal link between sin and disability.³⁷

Shi’s diffuse use of the terms sin and limitation in his numerous literary works is to be interpreted in the context of his understanding of culture and his socio-­political concerns. argues that, from Shi’s perspective, “Chinese culture emphasizes immanence and considers every individual potentially perfect and boundless like a god.”³⁸ According to Shi, such a tendency contributed to the deification of (political) figures.³⁹ Often, Shi’s sharply pointed criticism takes the form of (Christian) idol or religious critique, directed against the absolute adherence to political ideologies and worldviews (e.g., materialism),⁴⁰ and any attempts at self-­deification (e.g., in certain forms of Confucianism, Daoism, and Chan Buddhism). From the limitation of human beings, Shi draws the conclusion of the equality of all humans: “Due to human limitations, no one has the right to limit [others].”⁴¹ (Here, “no one” is best seen as “no one in the name of a political system.”)

In the face of his own temporal and spatial limitations (and those of many of his immobile literary characters), Shi believes that the creative imagination of writing should rise above limitations, embodying resilience and resistance that transcend into metaphysical realms.⁴² This transcendent aspect in Shi’s thinking and works is accompanied by a dual distinction between soul and body.⁴³ According to Shi, it is the self-­conscious spiritual life that sets humans apart from lower-­order animals. In his essay Linghun de zhongliang 灵魂的重量 [“The Weight of the Soul”],⁴⁴ he describes a peculiar separation: the body is confined to a wheelchair and experiences “pain, weakness, hunger, thirst,” as well as “doubt and jealousy,”⁴⁵while the soul, during dark nights, travels afar, leaving the disabled body and the reality saturated with suffering behind, entering a world of imagination and life, able to ascend to the infinite.⁴⁶ In other words, the soul represents the part or aspect of a person that can transcend the self. This body-­soul duality is an aspect of the general dualistic nature of reality, which, drawing from Christian dogmatic tradition, is understood as an opposition between the earthly and the heavenly, the relative and the absolute, the limited and the unlimited, the human and the divine. But how is this divine or the God understood concretely by Shi? ⁴⁷ This question will be explored in more detail in the next section.

The Disabled God

However, upon contemplation, this kind of contradiction must ultimately be the contrast between the Infinite and the Finite, the gap between the Absolute and the Relative, so that it is the Infinite (e.g., the mystery of the entire universe) that tries to influence the Finite (e.g., the personal situation), the absolute value (e.g., the future of humanity) that seeks to correct the relative value (e.g., personal interests). In this way, the previous I must be connected with the absolute value and the infinite being. But what is this? How do we call the Infinite and the Absolute? Call it whatever you want because, no matter how it is named, it is indeed a human reality, but in the history of faith, it is called: God. He is infinite in His infinity and truth. He is present in His absolute goodness and beauty. He is the starting point of human dreams and the endpoint of human perspective. His presence precedes His name, and His name happens to be the word “God.”⁴⁸

In Linghun de zhongliang 灵魂的重量 [“The Weight of the Soul”], Shi describes God in an original manner, using parallelism to depict him as both the “starting point of human dreams and the endpoint of human perspective.” In another essay, he even portrays a direct relationship with God, whom one can recognize as the ultimate source of “truth, goodness, beauty, justice, and love” with an “enlightened heart.” In his perception of a relationship with God, Shi rejects any interference of a “broker,” that is, a mediator acting as an “agent of power,” as well as any “human instruction manual.”⁴⁹

Despite certain aspects being compatible with Christian teachings, scholars note that Shi’s concept of God does not conform to orthodox (Western) theological formulas or church dogmas.⁵⁰ As mentioned earlier, his concept also diverges from contemporary liberal Christian theology, such as that of Eiesland. Given the indistinctness of his religious vocabulary and the unsystematic nature of his thoughts, some propose considering Shi’s religious, strongly Christian-­influenced contemplation in the context of the syncretistic tradition of Chinese religions.⁵¹ While these observations and theories are compelling, they could be supplemented with some additional remarks.

The political context of mainland China, within which Shi conducted his literary work as a prominent figure, must always be considered. Given the imposed ideology, an explicit confession of faith in Christ would likely have been challenging. Secondly, Shi writes not as a systematic theologian but as a literary writer who creates fictional stories and characters, which often need to be interpreted and do not necessarily reflect the author’s views. Thirdly, it seems to be Shi’s intention to allow uncertainty and indeterminacy within the framework of a narrative experiment to question existing authoritarian structures and ideals (e.g., the concept of a perfect body). Furthermore, the ambiguity reflects the contextual crisis of faith and identity and thus the spiritual quest of Chinese intellectuals in contemporary China. Fourthly, it must also be affirmed that a individual’s personal belief contains an element of unavailability and, in some respects, may remain obscure to outsiders.

In any case, Shi employs a Christian-­inspired vocabulary to articulate his interpretation of the meaning of the world and his own existence based on his physical disability. His portrayal of God exhibits inconsistent and paradoxical traits, which initially make systematic analysis challenging. In some writings, God is assigned ultimate metaphysical attributes (love, justice, etc.) as is typical in Christian doctrine.⁵² In others, He is depicted as someone who, due to His perfection and omnipotence, is incapable of dreaming and descends from heaven to observe human life and their pursuit of dreams.⁵³ Notably, God in Shi’s works often assumes anthropomorphic characteristics; He is portrayed as lonely, bored, and can even experience jealousy towards humans. Unlike Eiesland, who focuses on the resurrected Christ with wounds in The Disabled God, Shi rarely refers to Jesus Christ.⁵⁴ Nevertheless, one can still speak of a “disabled God” in Shi’s works, as this God often appears as an ordinary, caring, but also vulnerable and limited human, who assists Shi in bearing his suffering and, conversely, relies on the help of others. In his short story Cheshen 车神 [“God of the Disabled Vehicle”], Shi encounters this God in concrete individuals close to him, such as mothers of his classmates, elderly workers, a man, and a child, who show him mercy and love.⁵⁵ From this perspective, Shi’s God is not a triumphalist, independent, and distant God, but one incarnated as a human who displays vulnerability and submits to the principle of mutual care and dependence as a valued aspect of life.

There is one final aspect I would like to address: How is the problem of theodicy negotiated in Shi’s works? What does redemption entail in his unorthodox contemplation?

Theodicy and Redemption

Shi engages with the question of theodicy, the inquiry into why a just God allows suffering in this world, early on in a story titled Shulin li de shangdi 树林里的上帝 [“God in the Forest”].⁵⁶ The main character, perceived by others as insane, holds “the God in heaven” responsible for the law of the jungle: “And she doubted the God in heaven: if He is the savior of suffering beings, why does this deadly situation exist?”⁵⁷ Confronted with inequality and evident differences between the strong and the weak, the wise and the foolish, the beautiful and the ugly, the disabled and the healthy, inherent in creation, Shi, as previously explained, offers an original answer.⁵⁸ He grounds his thesis of disability and impairment as a fundamental anthropological situation in limitations, death, and the “original sin” as experiences shared by all humans. While this response initially provides an alternative perspective to overcome segregations, the motivational force for a positive attitude towards life remains unresolved.

In the essay Haoyun sheji 好运设计 [“Design of Happiness”], the narrator conducts a thought experiment, creating a fictional wish list for the next life.⁵⁹ Assuming that “fate is unjust from the beginning” and that “people are born with luck and misfortune,” the narrator designs a self that is not only intelligent and attractive but also possesses a perfect body and all sorts of geographical and socio-­economic advantages.⁶⁰ However, the narrator quickly concludes within the framework of this reflective experiment that wealth, a loving family, and a perfect body do not bring the desired fulfillment but rather give rise to a (different) kind of disability, a kind of “cage.”⁶¹ The question arises whether a perfect life without moments of overcoming can truly be enjoyed, and whether it wouldn’t become boring quickly. In other words, is a certain amount of suffering, failure, disappointment, and imperfection necessary in life to achieve a sense of fulfillment? Even variations of the design, in which some obstacles (curable diseases) are included, or an “eternal winner” and conqueror are constructed, face the insolvable problem: death.⁶²

Shi expresses a pessimistic tone regarding the transience of this world:

The humanity is dying, the Earth is collapsing, the universe is sinking into thermal silence. What value does all our ingenuity and genius, our struggles and efforts, our happiness and success have? What does it all bring? Where are we heading? Where will we go? What is our purpose? What is our joy? Where is our happiness? Where is our path to redemption?⁶³

The narrator, who transforms into the author Shi himself at the end of the story, finds this redemption and solution in the processuality of life:

The process! Yes, the meaning of life lies in your ability to create the beauty and brilliance of the process, the value of life lies in appreciating the beauty and tragedy of the process with composure and enthusiasm. . . . The entire process is a clever plan of God. . . . God made me paraplegic for a lifetime, so that I can transition from focusing on the goal to embracing the process.”⁶⁴

Only when one redirects their focus from the end goal to the process, as Shi suggests, can the emptiness and despair of fixed objectives, the pain and suffering of the current state be overcome. Living life as a process means fearlessly facing death and having the certainty that the process of life continues. It also involves disengaging life from any form of stereotyping (such as through birth or social status) precisely because of its dynamic nature. If the process itself already signifies true happiness and renders the designed perfect self-­redundant, Shi concludes: “Perhaps I am already destiny’s favorite?”⁶⁵

Overall, “Design of Happiness” leaves behind an unusual ambiguity: Is this type of redemption, given its nihilistic undertone, a mere functionalist construction? Is it a cheap consolation, a self-­deceptive illusion in the face of the world and life’s meaninglessness? Some writings could support this interpretation. In one of his most renowned novels, Ming ruo qinxuan 命若琴弦 [“Strings of Life”], this theme of self-­deception is explored.⁶⁶ A blind banjo player, accompanied by his young apprentice, earns his living through music and singing as they travel the land. He aims to play the instrument until a thousand strings break, as his deceased master, who was also blind, informed him that his blindness was curable. However, the corresponding remedy, hidden in the banjo’s groove, requires a prior medical initiation: Only when a thousand strings of the banjo break, will the medicine work. While the old master managed to break only 800 strings before his death, one day, the banjo master achieves the final stage, the number of 1,000 strings. Joyfully, he goes to the apothecaries, but to his surprise and disappointment, discovers that the recipe is a blank sheet of paper. Nevertheless, he continues to play the banjo with his apprentice. It is the hope and yearning for a cure that encourage the blind banjo master to keep playing, sustaining his life for seventy years. When the remedy proves to be a myth, he reaches a deeper understanding: “The heart’s string also needs two points: one is the pursuit, and the other is the goal, so that one can play the heart’s song on this tension arc in the middle.”⁶⁷ What if one end turns out to be empty and illusory? It is the journey through life itself, the constant practice as a process, that counts and brings joy. This story may also reveal much about Shi’s approach to his writing: “Life is not meant for writing; writing is meant for life.”⁶⁸ Like the old master who dedicated his entire life to playing the banjo, Shi invested all his life force into writing, which gave him a sense of hope and comfort. Faith was a balm that eased the suffering he experienced in his illness—but nothing more.⁶⁹

It is unmistakable that some passages in Shi’s body of work seem to support this functionalist existentialist interpretation. However, his texts as a whole exhibit (intended) ambiguities and contradictory elements. From my personal perspective, the above interpretation is not the only possible one; Shi’s openness to transcendence could also be interpreted substantively—meaning, as an ontological relationship to a supreme being (not necessarily conforming to Christian orthodox dogma). For instance, in the pointed conclusion of the essay “Design of Happiness”, Shi speaks in an autobiographical comment about a God who loves him.⁷⁰ In another essay about love, he explores its unprovability (from a scientific standpoint) and its unavailability, which overcomes the “alienation of original sin” and loneliness.⁷¹ Shi concludes that love, as the “realm of the soul’s freedom,” realizes the original intimate transparent relationship anchored in the archetype of the God-­human relationship. This more complex interpretation assumes that Shi may consciously resist a simple labeling, that he rejects being confined to a clear, rigid, and singular identity. This corresponds with the previous observation that Shi allows for uncertainty and indeterminacy in his narrative world, which is probably also due to the political circumstance with limited freedom of speech.

Compatibility with the Christian Faith: A Possible Interpretation of The Temple of Earth and Me

The choice of interpretation is, at its core, a hermeneutical challenge. Finally, I would like to turn to Shi’s most renowned work, The Temple of Earth and Me, to illustrate a Christian-­philosophical interpretation. It will be shown that a plausible hermeneutical approach to this essay could support the latter substantial interpretation, although this can only be one perspective on the story.

He [referring to the Temple of Earth] waited for my birth, and then he waited for me to reach the arrogant age when my legs suddenly became crippled. . . . I believe it was time for me to come. One afternoon, fifteen years ago, I entered the Temple Park in my wheelchair, and it was ready for a man who had lost his soul. At that time, the sun grew bigger and redder as it followed its eternal path. In the subdued light that filled the Temple Park, it was easier for a person to see the time and recognize oneself. I haven’t left this Temple Park for long since I accidentally entered it that afternoon. . . . I immediately understood its intention. As I said in one of my novels: “If there is such a peaceful place in a densely populated city, it is like a careful arrangement of God.⁷²

In a simple style, Shi describes his numerous encounters with various people in the Temple of Earth, built during the Ming Dynasty in 1530. This temple is located in the northern part of the center of Beijing. The emperors of the Ming and Qing Dynasties participated in the annual sacrificial ritual at the temple during the summer solstice. Shi recalls spending time with his family in this temple park, walking around in it every day. It became a backdrop for his contemplation and a carrier of his memories. Despite his limited contact range and mobility due to his disability, he gains an unusual perspective, which he refers to as “the dark night of writing.”⁷³ He sees the (hidden) unfulfilled desires, suffering, and loneliness of people. He not only sees his own disability but also empathizes with disability as a fundamental situation of humanity. Although the number of people Shi meets in the temple park is limited, the combination of encounters represents a microcosm arranged by God.

In the quoted passage, Shi speaks of the intention of the temple park, which is a physical space, a material presence. Why does Shi use an anthropomorphic description, as if the temple park has life, motives, and feelings? What intention is meant? My interpretation is as follows: It is precisely from his own limitation, the dark night of writing, that Shi can understand that the intention of the temple park is to open itself to him in an equal way, to embrace him as a disabled person with love and mercy. Since the Ming and Qing Dynasties, the people had to kneel when they saw the emperor; only when the emperor came to the Altar of Earth, he had to kneel more than 70 times and bow more than 200 times out of respect;⁷⁴ he also had to reveal his human nature and show humility towards this earth. The man, the son of heaven, who theoretically should live forever, becomes aware here that ultimately, he is just a human and must die sooner or later. At the same time, the same temple park is a materialized image of the merciful God, who has opened his arms for Shi Tiesheng or, in a sense, for all of us.

Ultimately, Shi’s potential compatibility with the Christian faith consists in two central aspects—the structures of need and longing of people in the current context of China—but also in general: firstly, his contemplative reflection on the fundamental anthropological situation (existential loneliness, experiencing injustice and oppression, human limitations and the search for fulfillment, etc.), starting from his physical disability, which finally leads into a dynamic search for transcendence; secondly, his postulation of a merciful God who stands by the side of the weak and oppressed. Shi employs a Christian-­inspired vocabulary, which not only allows him to escape from an unequivocal singular identity in the face of difficult political circumstances but also articulates an alternative, partially Christian-­inspired life vision. By embracing a “language of the outsider,”⁷⁵ Shi identifies with the outsiders of this world (the poor, oppressed, disabled, and lonely) and outlines the blurred contours of an unorthodox image of a merciful God, offering solace and hope.

Conclusion and Outlook

As is the case with all great authors in world history, Shi Tiesheng’s literary works (often in the form of religious contemplation) exhibit an ambiguity that allows for open interpretations. Of particular relevance is his original line of thought, starting from his personal physical disability, to address the interpersonal and human condition in general and at large. The generalizing element of his fundamental assertion that all humans are crippled and disabled encompasses both a socio-­political and a reflexive-­metaphysical, existential dimension. By employing a Christian-­religious “language of the outsider,” Shi proclaims solidarity with the religiously discriminated, socially-­politically marginalized, and physically disabled. Through his works, he offers an alternative approach to equality and justice that diverges from the existing political system and overcomes segregation. In a broader sense, Shi poses the ultimate question about the purpose and redemption of human life in the face of fundamental loneliness and death.

Overall, his use of religious vocabulary (such as sin or God) is undifferentiated and unconventional, possibly indicating Shi’s conscious effort to avoid simple labeling or a clear and singular identity. His thinking and writing, deeply imbued with Christian-­inspired contemplation, cannot be forced into Western theological dogmas, nor does it exhibit explicit institutional affiliations with a specific Christian community. Ultimately, Shi’s identity must first be taken seriously as that of a renowned literary writer who primarily works with (fictional) narrative storytelling, demanding sophisticated hermeneutic efforts from the reader due to their ambiguity.

Through an exemplary examination of his most famous essay, The Temple of Earth and Me, it was demonstrated that a particular theological interpretation of the text is possible from the perspective of embracing a merciful God. In this context, his Christian-­inspired contemplation, cannot be strictly assigned to either a purely religious paradigm of “personal success story” or a secular-­humanist politically social paradigm. With great authenticity, he addresses the problem of theodicy in an original way, answering it less in a Christological framework, but more through the notion of processualism. His anthropological starting point, understanding disability as a fundamental anthropological situation, and the assumption of a vaguely depicted merciful God, provide the basis for both the equality and dignity of all humans, as well as the call for mercy and justice. While Shi’s concept of God does not align with orthodox theological formulas or church dogmas, his Christian-­philosophical-­influenced thoughts deserve attention and appreciation, especially in the context of China.

To date, there have been very few explicit research contributions about Shi from a theological perspective. This short contribution shall serve as a further building block: especially from a Christian religious point of view, it seems to be desirable to bring Shi Tiesheng, undoubtedly one of the most renowned and unusual authors in contemporary China, and his works more into the limelight of theological research.

1. Pipi 皮皮, “Canque 残缺 [Crippling],” in Wozhiwu 我之舞 [My Dance], ed. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生 (Cheng Chung Book Company, 2004), 254. Pipi 皮皮, formerly known as Feng Li 冯丽, is a well-­known Chinese writer who uses the name of the popular children’s book character Pippi Longstocking as her pseudonym.
2. Xiao Xu 徐晓, “Wo De Pengyou Shi Tiesheng 我的朋友史铁生 [My friend Shi Tiesheng],“ iFeng, accessed June 22, 2024, https://culture.ifeng.com/c/7pNRfdCoppj.
3. Shi Teisheng 史铁生, Wo Yu Ditan 我与地坛 [The Temple of Earth and Me] (Beijing, 1991).
4. See Lang Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” Journal of Disability & Religion 24, no. 4 (2020): 1.
5. See Sarah Dauncey, “Writing Disability into Modern Chinese Fiction,” Chinese Literature Today 6, no. 1 (2017): 48–55. A sound, deep analysis on Shi Tiesheng’s entire works from a literary perspective can be found, for example, in Lifeng Xu 徐俪芬, “Shengming De Kouwen Yu Jiushu–Shi Tiesheng Jiqi ZuopinDenXg Yanjiu 生命的叩问与救赎—史铁生及其作品研究 [The Questioning and Redemption of Life: A Study of Shi Tiesheng and His Works],” (master’s thesis, National Chengchi University, 2007), 184–230, http://thesis.lib.nccu.edu.tw/record/#G0093912006.
6. According to Chen, Shi skillfully combined religious contemplation with social criticism, employing a syncretistic approach of religious ideas and language to present a novel vision of equality and justice that deviated from the ideology of the communist party (Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 16). In this regard, Chen writes: “In contemporary China, where religions have been marginalized, the use of religious vocabulary and contemplation allowed Shi to liberate himself from the narrative imposed on people with disabilities by the atheist state” (Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 1).
7. Chloë Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” Christianity & Literature 68, no. 1 (2018): 100–116. Starr states in the abstract of her article: “. . . the more explicitly religious nonfiction towards the end of [Shi’s] career offers a philosophical commentary on his earlier stories, and his non-­orthodox interpretations of Christian ideas provide crucial insight into the spiritual quests of Chinese intellectuals.”
8. Most of Shi’s works are available online at: www.kanunu8.com/files/writer/4300.html.
9. In a short story entitled Wenge Jikui 文革记愧 [Reflections of Shame from the Cultural Revolution] Shi reflects on a disturbing experience from the Cultural Revolution that profoundly impacted him. After transcribing manuscripts for a friend, the writings were discovered, leading to police investigations that plunged him and his friends into panic. The group desperately sought ways to avert the potential consequences, enduring an intense emotional journey marked by guilt, fear, and mutual recriminations, until the situation reached an ambiguous conclusion. See Shi Tiesheng 史铁生, wenge jikui 文革记愧 [Reflections of Shame from the Cultural Revolution], accessed June 22, 2024, http://www.b111.net/novel/45/45454/4216093.html.
10. Laifong Leung, Morning Sun: Interviews with Chinese Writers of the Lost Generation, Studies on Contemporary China (M.E. Sharpe, 1994), 157.
11. Yi-­tsi Mei Feuerwerker, Ideology, Power, Text: Self-­Representation and the Peasant “Other” in Modern Chinese Literature (Stanford University Press, 1998), 195, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/gbv/detail.action?docID=5413897.
12. Bonnie S. McDougall and Kam Louie, The Literature of China in the Twentieth Century (Columbia University Press, 1997), 395–396.
13. Huilin Yang and Daniel H. N. Yeung, eds., Sino-­Christian Studies in China (Cambridge Scholars, 2009); Pan-­Chiu Lai and Jason Lam, eds., Sino-­Christian Theology: A Theological Qua Cultural Movement in Contemporary China, Studien zur interkulturellen Geschichte des Christentums, vol. 152 (Peter Lang, 2010).
14. See Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 104.
15. Nathan Faries, The “Inscrutably Chinese” Church: How Narratives and Nationalism Continue to Divide Christianity (Lexington, 2010), 198.
16. G. Thomas Couser, Recovering Bodies. Illness, Disability, and Life Writing, forward by Nancy Mairs (The University of Wisconsin Press, 1997), 186–187.
17. Here follows the argumentation, particularly as presented in Chen’s work; see Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 2–4.
18. See Couser, Recovering Bodies, 186, 205.
19. See Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 1–3. Chen argues that the Christian-­inspired religious contemplation helped Shi to break free from a state-­imposed narrative of “successful overcoming” or the idea of a “perfect body.”
20. Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 2–3.
21. Strictly speaking, even in Chinese prose essays, Shi Tiesheng as a person and as the author of fiction must be distinguished; however, there is a scholarly consensus that Shi’s works distinctly bear autobiographical elements, particularly concerning the experience of disability. Therefore, a biographical interpretation is indeed possible in this case, though it must be approached with caution; see, for example, Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 111–12. In Chinese literary criticism, a closer connection is often drawn between the author and their work, with texts viewed as reflections of the author’s personal, social, and political experiences. Biographical insights are thus common interpretive tools. By contrast, Western criticism, especially influenced by New Criticism and structuralist approaches, emphasizes separating the author from the text, focusing instead on characters as constructs within the work itself. These differing approaches mean Chinese criticism often assumes a stronger link between the author’s experiences and their work, while Western criticism favors interpretative distance to broaden analysis. For example, see Wendy Larson, Literary Authority and the Modern Chinese Writer: Ambivalence and Autobiography (Duke University Press, 1991), 1–10.
22. Thus, Shi’s works reveal a parallel to so-­called crip literature, which centers the lives and experiences of people with disabilities, challenging conventional stereotypes and moving beyond the typical “overcoming” narratives that often emphasize only resilience or struggle. This genre embraces a broad spectrum of perspectives, underscoring themes of pride, identity, social justice, and critiques of societal barriers. The term crip is intentionally reclaimed by the disability community, aiming to empower and reshape narratives around disability with authenticity and depth.
23. Shi’s personal questions about suffering are addressed, for example, in his works “Lai dao renjian 来到人间 [Arriving in the Human World],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 4 (1985), 1–67; and “Wuxu biji 务虚笔记 [Notes on Seclusion],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 1 (1996), 1–567.
24. Haiying Li 李海音, “Yi Shenxwei Genji De ‘Ren’—Lun Shi Tiesheng De Jidurenxue Guan 以神性为根基的 “人”—论史铁生的基督人学观 [The “Human” Rooted in Divinity -­ Shi Tiesheng’s Perspective on Christian Anthropology],” Chuangzuo yu pinglun 创作与评论 (Creation and Criticism) 191 (2014): 56.
25. In Shi’s short story “Xiongdi 兄弟 [Brothers],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, Vol. 3 (1978), 12–19, the narrator contrasts the life paths of his cousin and a childhood playmate. While the cousin grew up in a privileged family and achieved success in his career, the playmate lived in extreme poverty and was sentenced to death by this very cousin due to a crime. With this narrative, Shi expressed his disappointment that the social inequality to be eradicated still persisted; the new privileged class merely replaced the old one, and a new form of segregation emerged to replace the old form. See also Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 6–7.
26. Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 7–8.
27. See Jiawei Zhuang 庄家玮, “Cunzai De Huangmiu Yu Guochengzhesi–Shi Tiesheng 80 Niandai Zhonghouqi De Canjixieshu 存在的荒谬与过程哲思—史铁生 80 年代中后期的残疾写书[Absurdity of Existence and Process of Rumination: Shi Tiesheng’s Deformity Narration in the Mid or Late 1980’s],” zhongguo wenxue yanjiu 中国文学研究 (Studies in Chinese Literature) 44 (2017): 199–200.
28. Li 李海音, 以神性为根基的 “人” [The “Human” Rooted in Divinity],” 58; Shi, “Wuxu biji 务虚笔记 [Notes on Seclusion],” 54–56.
29. Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit (Niemeyer, 2006), 305.
30. See Li 李海音, 以神性为根基的 “人” [The “Human” Rooted in Divinity],” 61. This particularly significant argument is presented in Shi’s most famous work, Wo Yu Ditan 我与地坛 [The Temple of Earth and Me], 110–111.
31. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生, “Gei Mang Tong Pengyou 给盲童朋友 [For the Blind Children, My Friends],” in Xin yu wen 信与问 [Faith and Question] (Guangdong Provincial, 2008), 259–260, https://www.kanunu8.com/book/4315/52139.html.
32. Qingliang Xu 许庆亮 and Xiangjiao Chen 陈祥蕉, “Shi Tiesheng Fangtan: Ren De Canque Zhengming Le Shen De Wanmei 史铁生访谈: 人的残缺证明了神的完美 [Interview with Shi Tiesheng: Man’s Disability Proves God’s Perfection],” Southern Metropolis Daily, accessed June 22, 2024, www.zgnfys.com/a/nfwx-­38792.shtml.
33. Deborah Beth Creamer, “Disability Theology,” Religion Compass 6, no. 7 (2012): 341; see also Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 10–12.
34. Creamer, “Disability Theology,” 341.
35. See Creamer, “Disability Theology,” 341; Shi, “Gei Mang Tong Pengyou 给盲童朋友 [For the Blind Children, My Friends],” 259. Eiesland also reaffirms in The Disabled God that both “normal” bodies and “disabled” bodies are subject to contingency and limitation—a fact that should be recognized as a truth of being human. See Nancy L. Eiesland, The Disabled God: Toward a Liberatory Theology of Disability (Abingdon, 1998), 103–4.
36. Li 李海音, 以神性为根基的 “人” [The “Human” Rooted in Divinity],” 59; Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 106.
37. See Eiesland, The Disabled God, 101–102.
38. Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 10.
39. Xu and Chen, 史铁生访谈: 人的残缺证明了神的完美 [Interview with Shi Tiesheng: Man’s Disability Proves God’s Perfection];” see also Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 10.
40. This also includes the absolute reverence for natural science; see Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 112. This is particularly criticized in Shi’s short essay “Aiqing Wenti 爱情问题 [The Question of Love],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 5 (1988), 333–337.
41. Shi Tiesheng, “ ‘Ziyou pingdeng’ yu ‘zhongji jiazhi’ “自由平等” 与 “终极价值” [“Free and equal” und “Ultimate value”],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 9 (1996), 255.
42. The human imagination is addressed, for example, in Shi’s short story “Xiaoshuo San Pian 小说三篇 [Three stories],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 5 (1988), 25–50.
43. Starr argues that in some of his works, Shi refers to a third component, the spirit, which is attributed the function of reflective ability (see Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 109). However, for the present discussion, it is sufficient to initially address the duality between body and soul.
44. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生 , “Linghun de Zhongliang 灵魂的重量 [The Weight of the Soul],” in Linghun de shi 灵魂的事 [Matters of the Soul], ed. Tiesheng Shi 史铁生 (Tianjin, 2005 [1993]). 100–101, www.52shuwu.me/wenxue/32241.html.
45. Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 109.
46. Shi, “Linghun De Zhongliang 灵魂的重量 [Das Gewicht der Seele],” 94–132. This exploration of the mind-­body problem is evidently influenced by the Western philosophical and Christian tradition, with Shi’s emphasis on the separation between the body and soul aligning more with Plato, Augustine, and Calvin (rather than Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas).
47. Most of the time, Shi uses the culturally ingrained term shen 神 (“God, Spirit”), which carries a cultural connotation of pantheism or polytheism. However, in a few cases, he also uses the culturally ingrained term shangdi 上帝 (“Supreme Ruler”). These are the two common names for God in Protestant Chinese Bible translations.
48. In this passage, Shi poses the initial question: “For there is another statement worth pondering: ‘I want my soul to be more purified.’ That makes sense, doesn’t it? So, who is doing it to whom this time?” The “I” mentioned in the quoted passage refers to the first “I” in the initial question. See Shi, “Linghun De Zhongliang 灵魂的重量 [The Weight of the Soul],” 123–124.
49. Shi, Wuxu Biji 务虚笔记 [Notes on Seclusion], 459; Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 8.
50. See Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 112.
51. See Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 10. Chen points out an essay titled Zhou xin Jidu ye xin fo 昼信基督夜信佛 [“Believing in Christ during the Day and Buddha at Night”] from Shi’s later creative phase and comments, “His attitude echoes the traditional idea that claims the unity of three teachings (that is, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism), which can be traced back to the 12th century and was popular among many Chinese literati.”
52. See Shi, Wo Zhi Wu 我之舞 [My Dance], 190–191.
53. See Shi, “Xiaoshuo San Pian 小说三篇 [Three Stories],” 45–46.
54. See Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 13.
55. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生, “Cheshen 车神 [God of the Disabled Vehicle],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 4 (1987), 282–290; see also Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 13.
56. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生, “Shulin li de Shangdi 树林里的上帝 [God in the Forest],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 3 (1981) 72–73.
57. Shi, “Shulin li de Shangdi 树林里的上帝 [God in the Forest],” 73.
58. See Chen, “Disability Theology Despite Itself,” 10.
59. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 6 (1990), 32–45; Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 110–111.
60. Shi, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” 33.
61. See Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 110.
62. Shi, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” 44–45; Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 110–111.
63. Shi, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” 44–45; emphasis added.
64. Shi, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” 43–44; see also Chuang, “Cunzai De Huangmiu Yu Guochengzhesi 存在的荒谬与过程哲思 [Absurdity of Existence and Process of Rumination], 222–223; Starr, “Shi Tiesheng and the Nature of the Human,” 111.
65. Shi, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” 43.
66. Shi Tiesheng 史铁生, “Ming ruo qinxuan 命若琴弦 “[Strings of Life]”, in Shi Tiesheng quanji, vol. 4 (1985), 68–118.
67. Shi, “Ming Ruo Qinxuan 命若琴弦 [Strings of Life],” 117.
68. Shi, Wo Zhi Wu 我之舞 [My Dance], 39.
69. This thought bears a slight resemblance to the famous existential motif of Sisyphus in Camus’ work.
70. Shi, “Haoyun Sheji 好运设计 [Design of Happiness],” 45.
71. Shi, “Aiqing Wenti 爱情问题 [The Question of Love],” 334.
72. Shi, Wo Yu Ditan 我与地坛 [The Temple of Earth and Me], 2–4; emphasis added.
73. Shi, Wo Yu Ditan 我与地坛 [The Temple of Earth and Me], 162. The following idea is meant: Without light, we cannot see anything in the darkness; we always seek light to be able to see. However, sometimes our “other eyes” are only opened when all light fades away and night sets in. We see a different side of the world that we usually cannot perceive during the day or in the presence of light.
74. The corresponding rituals are described in detail on the following website about the Temple of Earth: http://www.dtpark.com/article/content/view?id=252927.
75. Such language, shaped with Christian vocabulary, is unusual for an author living in an atheistically influenced country like China and can rightfully be referred to as a “language of the outsider.”