Chinese Catholic Patriotic Association
Based on Wikipedia: Chinese Catholic Patriotic Association
The Church That Answers to Two Masters
Imagine being a Catholic bishop who must receive approval from both the Pope in Rome and the Communist Party in Beijing before you can lead your flock. This peculiar arrangement—where an atheist government helps choose the shepherds of a faith it officially considers superstition—defines one of the strangest religious organizations in the world: the Chinese Catholic Patriotic Association.
The story of how this came to be involves Cold War politics, centuries of colonial resentment, underground churches, and a diplomatic dance between the Vatican and Beijing that has lasted nearly seventy years. It's a story where the question "What does it mean to be Catholic?" has no easy answer.
The Problem of Foreign Faith
When Mao Zedong's Communist Party took control of China in 1949, they faced an awkward challenge. All religions were ideologically suspect—Marxism teaches that religion is the "opium of the masses," a tool used by the powerful to keep workers docile. But Christianity presented a special problem.
Buddhism and Taoism were at least Chinese. Christianity came from the West, brought by missionaries who arrived on the same ships as colonial powers. The Catholic Church in particular answered to a foreign sovereign—the Pope—who claimed authority over Chinese souls from his palace thousands of miles away in Rome. For a revolutionary government obsessed with throwing off foreign influence, this was intolerable.
The Communists needed a solution that would keep religious practice contained while severing those foreign ties. They found inspiration in an unlikely place: Protestant missionary strategy.
The Three-Self Principles
Protestant missionaries had long debated how to create indigenous churches that could survive without Western support. They developed what they called the "three-self principles": self-government (local leaders make decisions), self-support (no foreign money), and self-propagation (local believers spread the faith). The idea was to plant churches that could stand on their own roots.
In May 1950, Chinese Protestant leaders met with Premier Zhou Enlai and emerged with what they called the "Christian Manifesto." It condemned foreign imperialism and pledged to build a Protestant church free from Western control. The government had found its template.
Seven months later, Chinese Catholics followed suit. A priest named Wang Liangzuo drafted the "Guangyuan Manifesto," signed by five hundred Catholics in northern Sichuan province. Its language was stark:
We are determined to sever all relations with imperialism, to do all we can to reform ourselves, to establish a new Church that shall be independent in its administration, its resources, and its apostolate.
More manifestos followed. The "Chongqing Manifesto" gathered over seven hundred signatures. But there was something deeply strange about Catholics adopting the "three-self" formula. Unlike Protestant denominations, which had always emphasized local church autonomy, Catholicism is by definition universal—the word "Catholic" literally means "universal" in Greek. A Catholic church that severs ties with Rome isn't really Catholic at all.
Pope Pius XII understood this immediately. In 1954, he issued a letter called Ad Sinarum Gentes (To the People of China), praising Chinese Catholics for their loyalty and explicitly condemning the three-self movement. An independent Catholic church, he argued, would cease to be Catholic.
The stage was set for a showdown.
The Birth of the Patriotic Association
In July 1957, the Chinese government forced the issue. Two hundred and forty-one Catholics from across China—laypeople, priests, and bishops—gathered in Beijing for a meeting with Communist Party officials and the Religious Affairs Bureau. They emerged with a new organization: the Chinese Catholic Patriotic Association, or CCPA. Archbishop Ignatius Pi Shushi of Shenyang was elected its first president.
Within months, the CCPA began consecrating bishops without Rome's approval. This was the nuclear option. In Catholic theology, bishops derive their authority through an unbroken chain of consecrations stretching back to the apostles—but that chain runs through the Pope, who must approve each new link. Bishops appointed without papal approval aren't just irregular; they're considered illicitly ordained, and their consecrators automatically excommunicate themselves from the Church.
Pope Pius XII responded with Ad Apostolorum Principis in June 1958, refusing to recognize any of these consecrations. The Chinese Catholic Church had split in two: an official church sanctioned by Beijing but cut off from Rome, and an underground church loyal to the Pope but persecuted by the state.
The Underground Church
The split created a parallel religious universe in China. Underground Catholics—sometimes called "Vatican loyalists"—refused to attend masses celebrated by CCPA priests. They gathered in secret, risked imprisonment, and maintained their communion with Rome through networks of clandestinely appointed bishops.
The situation grew even more dire during the Cultural Revolution of 1966 to 1976. Mao's Red Guards attacked all religions without distinction. Churches were destroyed, priests were imprisoned or killed, and the CCPA itself was shut down. For a decade, Chinese Catholicism essentially went dark.
When Deng Xiaoping's reforms allowed religion to resurface in the 1980s, both churches emerged from the shadows—the CCPA restored as the official state-sanctioned body, and the underground church stubbornly alive despite years of persecution.
The Theological Divide
The CCPA's separation from Rome created strange theological gaps. Because the split occurred in the 1950s, the official Chinese Catholic Church doesn't recognize certain Catholic teachings that came later.
For instance, the CCPA doesn't acknowledge the dogma of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary—the teaching that Mary was taken bodily into heaven at the end of her life—which Pope Pius XII proclaimed in 1950. It doesn't recognize any canonizations of saints made after 1949. Most significantly, it doesn't recognize the Second Vatican Council of 1962 to 1965, the landmark gathering that transformed Catholic worship by allowing Mass in local languages instead of Latin and embracing religious freedom.
In practice, though, the lines blur. Chinese Catholics actually use Chinese translations of Vatican II documents, the 1983 Code of Canon Law, and the modern Catholic catechism. These texts were initially smuggled in from Taiwan and Hong Kong, but have been printed locally for years. The CCPA's rejection of Vatican II appears to be more political than theological.
The Impossible Solution
Successive popes have tried to heal this schism, but they face an impossible puzzle. How do you maintain the unity of a universal church while accommodating a government that demands control over episcopal appointments?
Pope Paul VI opened one door in 1978, granting underground bishops the authority to consecrate successors without prior Roman approval—an emergency measure for emergency times. Pope John Paul II went further, retrospectively approving various underground consecrations and even granting similar authority to some CCPA bishops who had been ordained before the split.
This created a curious hybrid: bishops who had been appointed by the CCPA but were later recognized by Rome, existing in a kind of ecclesiastical no-man's-land.
Pope Benedict XVI made a public overture in June 2007, releasing a letter to Chinese Catholics that emphasized unity and expressed willingness for "respectful and constructive dialogue." That year, five new CCPA bishops were ordained with approval from both Beijing and Rome—proof that cooperation was possible.
The 2018 Agreement
The breakthrough—or betrayal, depending on whom you ask—came in September 2018, when the Vatican and Beijing signed a provisional agreement on bishop appointments. Under its terms, China would recommend candidates for bishop, and the Pope would have veto power over the recommendations. Pope Francis also took the dramatic step of recognizing seven CCPA bishops who had been ordained without Vatican approval, effectively lifting their excommunications.
The agreement was immediately controversial. Cardinal Joseph Zen of Hong Kong, one of Catholicism's most prominent voices for Chinese religious freedom, published an opinion piece in The New York Times with the blunt headline "The Pope Doesn't Understand China." He warned that the deal would lead to "the annihilation of the real Church in China"—the underground believers who had risked everything to stay loyal to Rome.
Others defended the agreement as the best available option, a step toward normalization that might eventually bring relief to Chinese Catholics of all stripes. Pope Francis acknowledged its imperfection but framed it as necessary for healing and evangelization.
The agreement has been renewed but remains fragile. In November 2022, the Vatican accused Beijing of violating its terms. In April 2025, during the brief period between Pope Francis's death and the election of his successor, the Diocese of Xinxiang elected a new bishop—at a moment when no Pope existed to ratify the appointment, making recognition impossible.
Catholicism with Chinese Characteristics
The CCPA doesn't just exist as an administrative body; it has developed its own theological flavor that blends Catholic teaching with Chinese patriotism and socialist ideology.
From its founding, the CCPA has emphasized anti-imperialism and the need to cleanse Chinese Catholicism of its colonial associations. The Guangyuan Manifesto declared, "We won't let the Church be tainted by imperialism." The organization argues that true Chinese Catholics should be patriotic citizens who contribute to the socialist state.
More recently, the CCPA has embraced "Sinicization"—adapting Catholic liturgy and sacred art to traditional Chinese culture while interpreting Catholic teaching in harmony with Communist Party ideology. A CCPA bishop named Joseph Shen Bin has explained this approach as using "core socialist values as guidance to provide a creative interpretation of theological classics and religious doctrines that aligns with the requirements of contemporary China's development and progress."
The CCPA has been particularly enthusiastic about Pope Francis, seeing in his concern for the poor and his criticisms of capitalism a fellow traveler. They've highlighted his statements about the limits of free market economics, his rejection of luxury, and his criticism of clergy who use the church for financial gain. Some CCPA members have gone so far as to call Francis a "good communist."
This might sound like propaganda, but there are genuine theological convergences. Pope John Paul II, despite his conservative reputation and his role in opposing Soviet communism in Poland, once stated that "a genuine and faithful Christian is also a genuine and good citizen. A good Chinese Catholic works loyally for the progress of the nation."
One Faith, Two Churches, No Easy Answers
The question of Chinese Catholicism remains unresolved. An estimated twelve million Catholics live in China, divided between the official church and the underground—though the boundary between them has grown increasingly blurry as the Vatican and Beijing have negotiated.
In 2018, the Holy See tried to clarify its position. It stated that while it would not force anyone's conscience, it recognized that operating in secret "is not a normal feature of the Church's life" and that Catholics only resort to clandestine worship "amid suffering, in the desire to maintain the integrity of their faith." The Vatican asked only that civil registration of clergy "guarantee respect for the conscience and the profound Catholic convictions of the persons involved."
Following this statement, some underground bishops stepped down and recognized CCPA authority. Chinese Catholics who join the CCPA are no longer considered disloyal to Rome.
But the fundamental tension remains. The Catholic Church claims to be universal, with the Pope as the sole legitimate authority over matters of faith and church governance. The Chinese Communist Party insists that no foreign power—religious or otherwise—can have authority over Chinese citizens. These two claims cannot both be fully satisfied.
What has emerged is a compromise that satisfies no one completely. The CCPA represents a Catholicism that is genuinely Chinese but of disputed legitimacy. The underground church maintains its loyalty to Rome but exists in a legal gray zone. And the Vatican, which spent centuries insisting on absolute papal authority, has found itself negotiating with an atheist government over who gets to be a bishop.
Perhaps the strangest aspect is how ordinary this has become. Millions of Chinese Catholics go to Mass, receive the sacraments, celebrate feast days, and live their faith—under arrangements that would have been unthinkable to Catholics of earlier generations. The Church that once demanded martyrdom rather than accommodation has learned to make deals with the Party that once tried to destroy it.
Whether this represents pragmatic wisdom or spiritual surrender depends entirely on whom you ask.