(Beijing — January 27, 2026) Within China’s increasingly dense network of religious regulation, the “spirituality” of the clergy is being assigned a precise political definition. 

Earlier this month, the National “Two Associations” of Christianity in China issued a detailed Code of Conduct for Clergy in China (hereinafter, the Code). This document is not simply a set of professional ethical guidelines; it more closely resembles a declaration of political loyalty, requiring clergy, while spreading the “Gospel,” to first and foremost serve as advocates of Chinese Communist Party policies.

At the outset, the Code establishes “four criteria” for the selection and evaluation of clergy, with “political reliability” ranked first. This phrasing continues Beijing’s consistent demands on religious communities over the past few years. 

In its section on basic requirements, the Code explicitly states that clergy must support the leadership of the Chinese Communist Party and continuously strengthen their identification with “socialism with Chinese characteristics.” This forced association of faith with patriotism and loyalty to the Party has been at the core of China’s recent push for the “Sinicization of religion.”

In effect, this reshapes the identity of the clergy. Within this framework, a pastor’s primary responsibility is to ensure obedience to the state’s supreme will in secular society.

Another striking emphasis in the Code is on “independence and self-governance.” The document stipulates that clergy must adhere to the principle of “not being subject to control by foreign forces” and must actively resist so-called “foreign religious infiltration.”

For a long time, Beijing has remained wary of transnational religious ties. The new regulations require clergy to strive to become “dual-competency” talents, proficient in both doctrine and China’s outstanding traditional culture. This is seen as a further effort to sever the influence of Western theological traditions and to construct a Christian system “with Chinese characteristics.”

In terms of pastoral norms, the document requires clergy to thoroughly explore elements of doctrine that are “conducive to social harmony and progress of the times.” Analysts believe this means that interpretations that diverge from officially endorsed mainstream values,  even those with deep doctrinal roots, will be marginalized or even prohibited.

Beyond macro-level political demands, the Code also reaches into the private lives and everyday conduct of clergy.

It requires clergy to “practice frugality and guard against extravagance,” and to resist corruption and the misappropriation of church property, echoing the anti-corruption ethos promoted by the Chinese government among public officials in recent years.

Addressing the increasingly active engagement in online religious activities, the Code explicitly calls for “regulating personal online behavior” and for resisting “erroneous and false information.” In the current context, this typically means that clergy must maintain consistency with official narratives on social media and refrain from expressing any views that could provoke questioning.

The document clearly states that those who violate laws or church regulations will be disciplined through an “exit mechanism.” This means that clergy who fail to meet political or behavioral standards may lose their clerical status.

For many observers, the release of this Code is not an isolated event, but part of China’s broader effort in the post-pandemic era to further tighten social control.

Beijing is attempting to build a highly standardized corps of clergy: persuasive from the pulpit, yet absolutely politically attuned. As the Code quotes from First Corinthians, “Let all things be done decently and in order,” but here, that “order” is clearly defined by the state.

In an era of increasing emphasis on the “holistic national security concept,” China’s church pulpits are becoming another platform for propaganda. Worshippers at Sunday services may find that the melody of patriotism is gradually drowning out the sound of traditional hymns.

Gao Zhensai, Special Correspondent for ChinaAid