Faith Under Fire: China Arrests Pastors, Defies US Warnings

Paul Riverbank, 11/21/2025China arrests Zion Church pastors, igniting global concern over religious freedom and government control.

The Zion Church isn’t a minor operation, nor did it emerge quietly from shadowy corners. Its founder, Pastor Ezra Jin Mingri, was once a disillusioned intellectual whose worldview shifted irrevocably following the student protests at Tiananmen Square more than three decades ago. He founded Zion in 2007, seeking a spiritual home outside the confines of state-sanctioned worship. The church’s congregation swelled over the years, with the pandemic driving even greater numbers online. Weekly meetings moved to streaming platforms, and despite the government’s all-encompassing lockdowns, many congregants found creative, sometimes risky ways to gather in person.

If there’s a thread running through the Zion story, it’s the resolve among its members to persevere—sometimes at great personal cost. Pastor Jin himself is now among those behind bars, facing allegations of “illegally using information networks,” a charge the government has wielded in the past to muzzle dissent and curb unapproved gatherings. In this case, it refers to holding virtual church meetings without official permission—a crime carrying a penalty of up to three years.

To human rights advocates like ChinaAid’s Bob Fu, these charges are a blunt tool for silencing spiritual leaders who challenge the boundaries set by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). In his view, the government is responding less to criminal activity than to the church’s “refusal to bow to CCP control and surveillance.” In his words, labeling these faith leaders as criminals marks a “chilling milestone” in what he sees as the CCP’s broader campaign to subdue Christianity within China.

The crackdown has been anything but localized. Reports emerging from cities as far-flung as Shanghai, Zhejiang, Shandong, Guangdong, Guangxi, and Hainan paint a picture of a sweeping operation, with authorities detaining ministers and volunteers, some of whom had families torn apart in the commotion. Pastor Sean Long, another figure within the Zion community, described how, during one raid, police forcibly separated a female pastor from her newborn child—an image that stuck with parishioners and, inevitably, found its way to foreign media.

Some detainees were released in the earlier months, but the core 18 remain detained and have just been charged in recent weeks. Meanwhile, the personal reverberations stretch far beyond China’s borders. Grace Jin Drexel, Pastor Jin’s daughter, now lives in the United States with the rest of her family. She has spent weeks unsure of her father’s well-being. Diabetic and reportedly denied access to medication, Pastor Jin’s health has become a daily worry for his family. Speaking in Washington, Drexel told attendees at a National Endowment for Democracy event, “The hardest part is not knowing—whether he’s eating, whether he’s in pain. We owe it to them, those who can’t speak for themselves, to keep the spotlight on their situation.” Former Congressman Peter Roskam, present at the same event, echoed her words, calling Jin’s refusal to recognize the CCP as an authority over his faith an act of profound courage.

Officially, China’s constitution insists citizens are free to practice the religion of their choice, but the reality is a patchwork of restrictions and heavy-handed oversight. The government’s strategy, known by the moniker “Sinicization,” requires churches, temples, and mosques alike to thread Communist ideology into sermons and teachings. In practice, this means registering all congregations with the state—and acquiescing to surveillance within houses of worship. For groups like Zion, this is a compromise too far, especially for those who remember other periods of religious suppression, whether during the years after Tiananmen or further back, through the upheaval of the Cultural Revolution.

Washington hasn’t stayed quiet. This latest round of detentions prompted the U.S. Senate to pass a resolution, unanimous in its call for Pastor Jin and the others to be freed. On this, rare bipartisan unity emerged. Senator Chris Coons remarked, “Everyone deserves the right to practice their faith freely,” while Senator Ted Cruz called the sweep a “nationwide crackdown,” warning that “any government that fears faith is tyrannical.” Senators Tim Kaine and Shelley Moore Capito pointed to a broader pattern, describing the resilience of faith communities in the face of what they called systematic suppression.

International outrage isn’t confined to politicians. An online petition, now signed by more than 500 church leaders from nearly fifty countries—including numerous Belt and Road Initiative partners—argues that religious freedom is a foundation for national strength, not instability. Their appeal to Chinese leadership is pointed: “Recognize that religious freedom strengthens, rather than threatens, nations.”

For the United States specifically, Pastor Jin’s arrest has an added resonance, as all three of his children hold American citizenship. Some security analysts frame the crackdown not merely as a matter of conscience, but as a point of diplomatic—and possibly even security—concern for Washington. Human rights groups are pressing the U.S. government to impose Magnitsky sanctions on the officials involved, leveraging economic penalties as a tool to push back.

China’s actions toward Zion Church aren’t unprecedented. In 2018, the government detained Pastor Wang Yi and roughly 100 members of Early Rain Covenant Church, sparking similar allegations of solitary confinement and denial of basic needs. But veteran observers say the scale and swiftness of recent events—a coordinated sweep across several provinces, striking at the organizational heart of the largest independent church in Beijing—are on a level unseen in decades.

Beneath the headlines and the volley of international condemnations lies a battle not just over doctrine, but over autonomy and allegiance. Whether Beijing yields to outside pressure or doubles down on its approach will shape the landscape for religious practice in China for years to come. As global attention lingers on Pastor Jin’s fate, the world is confronted once again with a question as old as organized government: To whom, and to what, must an individual ultimately submit—the state, or something greater?

Crackdowns on unsanctioned religious groups in China are nothing new, but over the past few months, the pressure on the underground Zion Church and its leadership has tipped into something far more severe than we’ve seen in years. The authorities’ move to arrest 18 of the church’s leaders—after detaining nearly thirty pastors and staff since October—has sent tremors of fear and defiance through Christian communities across the country.The Zion Church isn’t a minor operation, nor did it emerge quietly from shadowy corners. Its founder, Pastor Ezra Jin Mingri, was once a disillusioned intellectual whose worldview shifted irrevocably following the student protests at Tiananmen Square more than three decades ago. He founded Zion in 2007, seeking a spiritual home outside the confines of state-sanctioned worship. The church’s congregation swelled over the years, with the pandemic driving even greater numbers online. Weekly meetings moved to streaming platforms, and despite the government’s all-encompassing lockdowns, many congregants found creative, sometimes risky ways to gather in person.If there’s a thread running through the Zion story, it’s the resolve among its members to persevere—sometimes at great personal cost. Pastor Jin himself is now among those behind bars, facing allegations of “illegally using information networks,” a charge the government has wielded in the past to muzzle dissent and curb unapproved gatherings. In this case, it refers to holding virtual church meetings without official permission—a crime carrying a penalty of up to three years.To human rights advocates like ChinaAid’s Bob Fu, these charges are a blunt tool for silencing spiritual leaders who challenge the boundaries set by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). In his view, the government is responding less to criminal activity than to the church’s “refusal to bow to CCP control and surveillance.” In his words, labeling these faith leaders as criminals marks a “chilling milestone” in what he sees as the CCP’s broader campaign to subdue Christianity within China.The crackdown has been anything but localized. Reports emerging from cities as far-flung as Shanghai, Zhejiang, Shandong, Guangdong, Guangxi, and Hainan paint a picture of a sweeping operation, with authorities detaining ministers and volunteers, some of whom had families torn apart in the commotion. Pastor Sean Long, another figure within the Zion community, described how, during one raid, police forcibly separated a female pastor from her newborn child—an image that stuck with parishioners and, inevitably, found its way to foreign media.Some detainees were released in the earlier months, but the core 18 remain detained and have just been charged in recent weeks. Meanwhile, the personal reverberations stretch far beyond China’s borders. Grace Jin Drexel, Pastor Jin’s daughter, now lives in the United States with the rest of her family. She has spent weeks unsure of her father’s well-being. Diabetic and reportedly denied access to medication, Pastor Jin’s health has become a daily worry for his family. Speaking in Washington, Drexel told attendees at a National Endowment for Democracy event, “The hardest part is not knowing—whether he’s eating, whether he’s in pain. We owe it to them, those who can’t speak for themselves, to keep the spotlight on their situation.” Former Congressman Peter Roskam, present at the same event, echoed her words, calling Jin’s refusal to recognize the CCP as an authority over his faith an act of profound courage.Officially, China’s constitution insists citizens are free to practice the religion of their choice, but the reality is a patchwork of restrictions and heavy-handed oversight. The government’s strategy, known by the moniker “Sinicization,” requires churches, temples, and mosques alike to thread Communist ideology into sermons and teachings. In practice, this means registering all congregations with the state—and acquiescing to surveillance within houses of worship. For groups like Zion, this is a compromise too far, especially for those who remember other periods of religious suppression, whether during the years after Tiananmen or further back, through the upheaval of the Cultural Revolution.Washington hasn’t stayed quiet. This latest round of detentions prompted the U.S. Senate to pass a resolution, unanimous in its call for Pastor Jin and the others to be freed. On this, rare bipartisan unity emerged. Senator Chris Coons remarked, “Everyone deserves the right to practice their faith freely,” while Senator Ted Cruz called the sweep a “nationwide crackdown,” warning that “any government that fears faith is tyrannical.” Senators Tim Kaine and Shelley Moore Capito pointed to a broader pattern, describing the resilience of faith communities in the face of what they called systematic suppression.International outrage isn’t confined to politicians. An online petition, now signed by more than 500 church leaders from nearly fifty countries—including numerous Belt and Road Initiative partners—argues that religious freedom is a foundation for national strength, not instability. Their appeal to Chinese leadership is pointed: “Recognize that religious freedom strengthens, rather than threatens, nations.”For the United States specifically, Pastor Jin’s arrest has an added resonance, as all three of his children hold American citizenship. Some security analysts frame the crackdown not merely as a matter of conscience, but as a point of diplomatic—and possibly even security—concern for Washington. Human rights groups are pressing the U.S. government to impose Magnitsky sanctions on the officials involved, leveraging economic penalties as a tool to push back.China’s actions toward Zion Church aren’t unprecedented. In 2018, the government detained Pastor Wang Yi and roughly 100 members of Early Rain Covenant Church, sparking similar allegations of solitary confinement and denial of basic needs. But veteran observers say the scale and swiftness of recent events—a coordinated sweep across several provinces, striking at the organizational heart of the largest independent church in Beijing—are on a level unseen in decades.Beneath the headlines and the volley of international condemnations lies a battle not just over doctrine, but over autonomy and allegiance. Whether Beijing yields to outside pressure or doubles down on its approach will shape the landscape for religious practice in China for years to come. As global attention lingers on Pastor Jin’s fate, the world is confronted once again with a question as old as organized government: To whom, and to what, must an individual ultimately submit—the state, or something greater?