Missionary Methodology

MISSIONARY METHODOLOGY. - Missionary methodology is nothing other than pastoral practice in mission territories and has an extremely varied and constant application. While it depends on common pastoral practice insofar as it utilizes its principles and general conclusions, due to the great diversity of peoples to be evangelized, it finds itself having to resolve entirely special questions and problems.

CONTENTS:

I. General principles

II. Missionary methodology among primitive peoples

III. Missionary methodology in China

IV. Missionary methodology in India

V. Missionary methodology in Japan

I. GENERAL PRINCIPLES

Another general problem concerns the succession or simultaneity of apostolic work in newly conquered territories. The scarcity of personnel and lack of means make a simultaneous occupation of the entire mission territory impossible, but they do not justify the particularistic and naturalistic tendency which would be ready to take an interest only in those lands and peoples that present fewer difficulties or offer themselves almost spontaneously for conversion. The best solution is provided by a middle way that knows how to appropriately dispose of missionary forces, not too numerous, taking into account not only the character of the peoples and the local environment but also other qualitative, personal, and social factors. These elements may lead to the choice of one new field of work over another. It is therefore permissible to admit a preferential treatment toward some people due to extrinsic factors such as geographical extent and population density with regard to future development; qualitative value, which regulates the position of races in the international sphere; the greater or lesser capacity to receive the Gospel; present and future harm deriving from wars, the Protestant threat, moral decay, and other similar elements; the decisive character of the present moment in relation to all these positive and negative factors. However, it must not be forgotten that apostolate is rather the work of God, who with His Grace knows how to reward the heroism and sacrifice of confessors and martyrs, making abundant harvests sprout even in territories that human prudence deemed barren.

A third general problem concerns the intensive and extensive methods to be used in a given territory. The extensive method seeks to create the greatest possible number of mission stations to be visited sporadically. Instead, the intensive method prefers to restrict the field of its activity and work in depth in the souls of new Christians. Both methods have their advantages and can be used successfully in the different phases of apostolate. At the beginning of a new missionary expedition, it is perhaps better to follow the extensive method, erecting the greatest possible number of stations and small centers, also making use of catechists. Such a system is always to be recommended in those territories where the law prevails according to which the minister of a religion cannot settle within certain limits where another minister has already established himself.

After a general taking of possession, it is necessary to resort to the intensive method to consolidate the first success, developing the main stations, erecting parish and quasi-parish districts, and taking the utmost care of the discipline of the Christian life of the new faithful.

Missionary methodology also deals with the supernatural and natural means of apostolate and generally counts among the former divine Grace, miracles, prayer, and the personal sanctity of the missionary, and among the latter the catechumenate, schools, the formation of the native clergy, social and charitable works, and also sacred art and medicine. Another very broad field is constituted by the culture, customs, and religious beliefs of various peoples, of which it is necessary to know all those elements that may facilitate the preaching of Christianity.

These problems, however, belong rather to special methodology.

The Church, both in antiquity and in subsequent centuries, never hesitated to turn to primitives.

The first methodological rule of missionary penetration is the thorough knowledge of the cultural condition of the peoples to be evangelized and especially of the indigenous language. This knowledge must be integrated with the study of customs and usages. Since today primitives are almost all under colonial government, a new series of problems imposes itself on the study of missionaries. Essentially, this concerns the phenomenon of acculturation, that is, the contact and interpenetration of primitive cultures with Western and Christian civilization. It is the right and duty of missions to illuminate and guide. The ancient dilemma of missionary methodology—assimilation or adaptation—does not cease to reappear for primitive cultures, which, though poor, do not lack elements that can be exploited for this purpose.

The problem of schooling is today among the most urgent in missions among primitives. For this reason, missions today comprise an extensive network of schools, including primary, secondary, and vocational institutions. The cooperation of missions in schooling was requested by colonial governments, and although this has at times imposed heavy financial sacrifices on missions to comply with governmental norms, missionary educational activity has become more substantial and effective as a result. It should also be noted that it is in the field of schooling that Catholic missions must contend with the rivalry of Protestant missions, which are far more favored by the abundance of resources.

To the work of schools is added health activity through hospitals, leper colonies, clinics, and dispensaries. Social works are also effective means of penetration. Social life, particularly in industrial and commercial centers, today presents among primitives the same acute problems felt in our own countries. Especially among primitives, the norms for catechumenates prove extremely useful and often necessary.

History presents various phases of Christianity in China, each corresponding to different methods employed for the conversion of the infidels. Leaving aside the apostolic period with the presumed entry of St. Thomas into China, as well as the seventh-century interlude with the arrival of the Nestorians (635), as attested by the stele of Xi'an (Shaanxi), the first well-defined period is the Franciscan one, so called because it was the Franciscans who undertook the evangelization of China.

Innocent IV cited this among the reasons for convening the General Council of Lyon in 1245 and subsequently sent Friar Giovanni da Pian del Carpine as legate of the Holy See to the court of the Great Khan. Other Franciscans sent to China enjoyed full freedom of propaganda under the Mongol Yuan dynasty (1280-1368).

However, with the fall of the Mongol dynasty, Catholicism was swept away in the devastating turmoil, for the new Ming dynasty viewed religion with as much suspicion as the previous one had supported II.
In 1579, Father Matteo Ricci arrived in China. Aware of the enormous difficulties he would face, he conceived the bold plan of reaching the Emperor’s throne by leveraging his reputation as a scholar and scientist. His numerous contacts with figures in Beijing’s society and elsewhere gave Father Ricci the opportunity to speak of religion, cultivate neophytes, and prepare new conversions. The 463 confreres—scholars and scientists of sixteen different nationalities, including 64 Italians—who followed Father Ricci continued his work until the suppression of the Society in 1774.

The Lazarists and other religious societies and Orders that later took their place adopted his method. Thus, alongside science, they were able to teach catechism and the norms of Christian life. Unfortunately, the ill-fated question of Chinese rites (v. CIANRESI) arose, creating a new and thorny situation for the missions. As a result, Christians and their religion came to be regarded as enemies of national rites, leading initially to the estrangement of authorities and educated persons, forcing missionaries to turn to the countryside. Having lost the favor of the Court, religion was confused with secret societies, which China had repeatedly proscribed; hence the persecution that enriched the Chinese martyrology.

A new era began when, due to the so-called Opium War, England in 1841 secured Hong Kong, and together with France, in the treaties they concluded, imposed the opening of China to missionaries. Thus began the era of protectorates, and the missions took advantage of the treaties, which opened the way and facilitated the evangelization of the vast Empire. However, not all governments maintained perfect neutrality in the political sphere; some even entertained the idea of using missions for political interests, which harmed the missions, rendering them suspect and attracting unwarranted hostility. In any case, new times, new circumstances, and new methods had imposed themselves and yielded their fruits.

The year 1900 and its revolution, with all its consequences, was but an effect of China’s resentment toward the pressures endured and territorial occupations, for which the missions, though uninvolved, shared the odium. In that explosion of hatred against foreigners, true martyrs emerged, whom the Church has recognized, but who once again call for reflection on the need to renew propaganda methods better suited to the current times. Calculating China’s population at 400 million and the average annual conversions at 100,000, it would take no less than 4,000 years to convert and Christianize China, assuming general conditions remained those of the last years of the Empire and the early Republic.

With the fall of the Manchu dynasty and the consequent birth of the Republic, a substantial change occurred in China, clashing even with its millennial traditions. The revolution of October 10, 1911, in Wuchang, and its much-lauded success, was but an effect of the Court’s decline. The Republic thus found a China weak, exhausted, disrupted, disorganized, and unprepared for such a radical change of regime, which facilitated brigandage on an imposing scale.

Initially, missions were generally respected and even became places of refuge for the population, while missionaries often acted as mediators between assailants and the vanquished, saving hostages from prison and death and sparing entire cities from bombardment and looting. These acts elevated the prestige of the missions, bringing them closer to authorities, the educated and wealthy classes, as well as the poor and unsupported. Schools overflowed with students, catechumens could not meet the ever-growing demands, and entire villages requested conversion. Missionaries found themselves unequal in strength and number to support such an extensive movement.

At that time, the movement initiated by Father Lebbe gained momentum, aiming for a moral and spiritual rebirth of a bloodless and exhausted China. This was the optimistic current, which would certainly have achieved more practical and lasting successes had it combined zeal with greater calm and serenity of judgment and action, refrained from political interference, and frankly acknowledged the deficiencies and errors of both old and new China. However, some steps and directions may have been too bold, leading to a reaction—though motivated by the best intentions—that ultimately took on a pessimistic tone, as presented by Father Kervyn in his Méthode de l'apostolat moderne en Chine. Perhaps more than expressing personal ideas, he gathered prevailing opinions, presenting them with such disheartening pessimism that the Sacred Congregation de Propaganda Fide discouraged young missionaries from reading that book.

Father Lebbe, with the movement he led, sought to valorize and highlight all that in Chinese morality, doctrine, literature, customs, character, and history could serve as a bridge to Christianity, unfortunately closing his eyes—amid the enthusiasm that animated him—to deficiencies and gaps that cannot be remedied merely by ignoring them or deluding oneself into believing one possesses more than the nation’s real assets. Kervyn fell into the opposite excess: concerned with safeguarding the orthodoxy of doctrine and the purity of morals and discipline, he believed the missionary movement had slid onto a slippery slope toward ruin.

The middle ground was followed by the great majority of missionaries, who, taking into account new times and new demands, responded to the just aspirations of their adopted homeland. With far greater calm and tranquility, they spared no effort or sacrifice for the conversion of China. They aimed to save China through the Chinese themselves, preparing persons and environments that do not transform instantly; avoiding the enormous errors committed by progressives who ruined the poor Emperor Guangxu with the Hundred Days' Reform; resolute in the most generous renunciation of any nationalism; insisting on a local clergy and bishops, as the Franciscans under the Mongols and the Jesuits and other Orders in subsequent eras had already planned; yet determined not to disengage from the Church in that great nation until it could be deemed secure in itself.

BIBL.:
For the Franciscan period: A. C. Moule, Christians in China before the year 1550, London 1930; G. Golubovich, Biblioteca bio-bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell'Oriente francescano, Quaracchi 1906-27; for the Jesuit period: H. Bernard-Maître, Matteo Ricci's scientific contribution, in Monumenta Serica, 1 (1935), pp. 1-48; L. Pfister, Notices biographiques et bibliographiques sur les Jésuites de l'ancienne mission de Chine, Shanghai 1932-34; for the Lazarists and other Orders: A. Launay, Histoire générale de la Société des Missions Étrangères, Paris 1894; for the question of Chinese rites: P. M. D'Elia, Fonti Ricciane, Roma 1942-49; for the modern period: V. Cronin, The Wise Man from the West, London 1955; J. Guennou, Les missions catholiques en Chine au XXe siècle, Paris 1957; for the Lebbe movement: L. Wei Tsing-sing, Le Père Lebbe, Paris 1948; for the Kervyn method: P. Kervyn, Méthode de l'apostolat moderne en Chine, Tientsin 1928. Vincenzo Carbone

After the failure of his project to become emperor (3 December 1915), Yuan Shikai died almost suddenly on 6 June 1916. Political events led to a struggle between the north and the south and to communist infiltration. A period of confusion and anarchy ensued, during which missions had to fend for themselves, seeking to cultivate good relations with legitimate local authorities or even with bandits in order to continue their apostolate. The war against Japan increased difficulties, and missionary work in various territories took on many different aspects according to local circumstances.

According to Sun Yat-sen, the fundamental document of the new China was to be his San-min-chu-yi or "Three Principles of the People." Without mentioning the falsehoods, errors, and oddities of which Sun Yat-sen made himself a master, dogmatizing in all branches of human knowledge, the most immediate and real effect he achieved was to excite and develop Chinese nationalism, though exceeding the bounds of truth and practicality. The patriotic and youth movement ended in revolutionary agitation. Moreover, in that intoxication, young people saw only the errors of Europe and foreigners, forgetting the greater gravity of their own. This mentality and environment, formed particularly in schools and among the educated class, also influenced the young Chinese clergy, among whom certain excesses manifested themselves that cannot be passed off as love of country. An exaggerated nationalism led some of the indigenous clergy to meddle in the political sphere, from which the Church, by principle, remains aloof, thereby incurring responsibilities and hostilities that could have been avoided. Another mistake was the belief that the local clergy could now suffice without foreign assistance. This parenthesis, soon closed by the good sense of the majority, had its consequences.

It is well to remember that no one, before and more than the Church, had so broadly recognized the just aspirations of the Chinese people. A magnificent testimony to this was given on 28 October 1926 with the consecration of six Chinese bishops by the Supreme Pontiff himself. The new regime seemed to invite Catholics to take advantage of the many proclaimed freedoms to update and adapt their methods of action to the new environment. The subject was studied both with regard to the population and in relation to missionaries. Since the great mass was poor and illiterate, it was proposed to gather as many neophytes as possible in catechumenates near the missionary to receive proper instruction, Baptism, and to learn to confess and receive Communion—things that, by remaining at home, were postponed for the great majority for decades, even until death. During that time, the catechumen would be maintained free of charge or would contribute a very small amount.

To avoid overcrowding beyond the capacity of the facilities, it was also proposed to give catechumens studying at home an alms as a subsidy for the time spent in study. By staying in the catechumenate, they had to suspend their work, and study took time away from labor. For large centers, especially cities, the opening of halls for public lectures on religion, freely accessible to all, was proposed. These were opened in Beijing, Tianjin, and other cities, but were deemed impractical and of little yield. Attempts were made to hold public debates, but it was soon seen that they were not in keeping with the Chinese spirit. It was also noted that the method initiated by Protestants of preaching on public streets took on a charlatan-like appearance, which the Chinese despised. In the regional conferences presided over by Monsignor de Guébriant in 1919, the idea of flying missions was also discussed as a means to compensate for the scarcity of missionaries. However, a missionary constantly on the move, without a fixed base serving as a center of irradiation, produced only fleeting effects.

It was proposed to intensify the opening of schools of all levels and to effectively promote education in every respect; to multiply charitable works such as asylums, shelters, hospitals, and dispensaries. Regarding hospitals, it was noted that sisters should also take on obstetrics and maternity wards. However, it was deemed appropriate to point out that these charitable works, magnificent in themselves, should not absorb all the personnel and resources of a mission to the detriment of work among pagans, and that they should therefore be reduced in favor of the latter.

As a consequence of the peace treaty after the 1900 revolution, or following agreements for particular uprisings damaging to missions, the idea arose to perform acts of charity by interceding for the pardon or reduction of penalties for offenders, on the condition that they convert. This method drew criticism and produced conversions that were not always sincere or lasting. Consideration was also given to updating the immediate preparation of personnel. Given the scarcity of subjects, in many missions, a young priest was put to work immediately upon arrival, after an accelerated study of the language and a summary instruction on the environment, customs, and usages. Protestants had set the example of applying young arrivals to serious study, and Catholic missions had to be persuaded of the necessity of presenting men truly instructed in the Chinese language and culture. For this reason, study houses for missionaries arose throughout China, especially in large centers, and missions decided to leave them there under the guidance of good teachers until they mastered the written and spoken language and were well acquainted with the life, customs, and usages of the country.

While praising and recognizing the goodness of many new initiatives, missionaries agreed that the principal method was to have numerous catechists as cooperators of the missionary, chosen from among the people. This is the quickest, easiest, most straightforward, and least costly method, yielding the most serious and lasting fruits. To embrace a broader field, missions have opened schools and colleges for the education and instruction of catechists. The cultural field presents immense possibilities and offers to the service of religion language, literature, and art, as well as the various industries of the country. Missions have not failed to take advantage of these, not only in the past but particularly after the awakening of fervent nationalism, demonstrating how the Church appreciates and knows how to valorize the particular culture of converted peoples. With the intent of using the very culture of the Chinese people as a means to lead them to the faith, learned and zealous missionaries thought, as a practical and less offensive means to pagan pride, to show that the new law they preached had already left clear traces in their classical books, held as the code of the deepest wisdom of their ancestors.

This school is led by Father De Prémare, a Jesuit, who in a manuscript dated Canton, May 21, 1724, sets out to demonstrate that traces of the principal truths of primitive revelation are found in ancient Chinese classical books. After forty years of life spent in China, during which he deepened his study of the classics, he became enthusiastic about the poetry of his thesis. While recognizing the skill and noble intentions of Father De Prémare, scholars agree that the method is dangerous due to the lack of a serious foundation and that it contains more fantasy than positive reality. More practical, instead, is what Father Alfredo Fabre suggests in his De l'ombre à la lumière, where he shows that the Chinese people are more ritualistic than religious, and, by comparing the main manifestations of their cult—also drawing appropriate quotations from the classics, but with greater objectivity—through a parallel between Chinese ritualism and Catholic ritualism, he seeks to lead the Chinese soul from paganism to Catholicism, from external worship to true worship in spirit and truth. This method, with reflective and studious individuals, can be usefully employed in any form of society and wherever the individual may be found.

Some wondered whether the countryside and the great masses of the people, or the educated class and authorities in the cities, should be preferred. This question had a serious basis in the first attempts to introduce religion into the vast Empire. A misstep could have crushed the work from its very beginnings, while a well-chosen approach could have easily resolved the immense problem. Such a question is no longer relevant after all the experiences gained on the subject. The Catholic religion is known, at least by name, even in the remotest corners of the Republic. The immensity of the territory, the size of the population, the difficulties of the environment, the regime, and the truly exceptional circumstances in which that nation finds itself advise directing missionary action toward all fields, all social classes, and all environments. Given the grandeur of the task ahead, only in this way can one hope to always achieve some fruit.

At present, China is under a communist regime. It may not be prudent to immediately say a word about what will still be permitted to missions. It is no longer a question of method, but of being able at least to remain; it is no longer a matter of means, but of life.

Christianity in India dates back at least to the 5th century. Missionaries from Syria evangelized the southwestern region. Today, that community numbers nearly three million, more than half of whom belong to the Catholic Church and enjoy a relatively high social status. In external life, they are perfectly Indian and have been considered as such; however, they have not taken advantage of their social position to engage in missionary work.

The second wave of Christian penetration into India began with the arrival of the Portuguese in the 16th century. Ardent zeal and enthusiasm led to the imposition of prohibitions on local customs and the granting of permissions, which gave rise to the Malabar rites (v.). An intelligent effort at adaptation was undertaken by the Jesuit De Nobili and others, but it did not achieve the desired goals due to the rites controversy. In the last century, the British government introduced English education in India, and in various Protestant and Catholic schools, many Indians came to know the doctrinal and moral principles of Christianity. Unfortunately, since English literature is largely Protestant, many prejudices against Catholicism infiltrated the minds of many. The greater ease of penetration led to significant development in the apostolate among the untouchables and the aboriginal tribes of some provinces, with good results. From the history of missions in India, several conclusions of the utmost importance can be drawn. First, India offers a disconcerting variety of races, languages, cultural types, and civilizations. It is obvious, therefore, that missionary work must employ different methods for different groups and social classes.

Consider the numerous group belonging to the lowest class in India, with the two subdivisions of untouchables and aborigines, who number nearly 100 million. Among them, missionary work has been very successful. The two classic methods of approach have proven highly satisfactory. The aborigines are animists, and the depressed classes are polytheists and believe in the existence of evil spirits. The subtle speculations of philosophical pantheism are not familiar to them. The grandeur of the doctrine of a transcendent God, the equality of all men before Him, and the consequent rejection of any notion of untouchability, His Providence and His love for men, the beauty of the person of Our Lord, especially the message of the beauty and importance of suffering in human life, immediately touch the heart of this simple people, leaving an indelible impression. Their great poverty and multiple physical miseries make them the object of Christian charity, whose works of assistance constitute a great means of apostolate. Today, however, the missionary value of these works of material charity has greatly diminished. The loss of a large number of people, who could have been absorbed by Hinduism, has alarmed Hindu leaders. One of the programmatic lines of reformed Hinduism in the 19th century, shared by almost all new groups—the Brāhmā Sāmāj, Arya Samāj, and the Theosophical Society—has been the suppression of caste and untouchability. Moreover, the development of the political movement and democratic ideas, independently of religious considerations, has given great impetus to the work for the regeneration of the untouchables, which was crowned by the formal abolition of untouchability by the Constituent Assembly of India. It is therefore clear that those unhappy peoples no longer feel the same impulse to embrace Catholicism as in past years. Nevertheless, it would be a grave error to diminish too much the missionary value of charitable works, which make the warmth of Christian charity and the deep human sympathy felt—something the untouchables desire much more than material well-being. Even among the upper classes, works of Christian charity have great apostolic value because they always constitute a testimony to the tender charity of Our Lord.

The experience of the past leads to another conclusion: it is necessary to avoid, as much as possible, a direct attack on the beliefs and practices of followers of non-Christian religions, which strips the preacher of the aura of sympathy without which the truths of the faith do not ordinarily penetrate deeply. Furthermore, it is generally true that beliefs, customs, and practices are almost always more complex and more difficult to fully understand than a superficial knowledge might suggest. If the adversary receives the impression that he has not been understood or that his case has not been presented accurately, every argument will have a mediocre effect on him. The Catholic apostolate must avoid any condemnatory tactics, limiting itself to a courteous refutation when required by truth, and devoting itself primarily to an attractive exposition of the luminous truth of which it is the messenger. To what extent is the adaptation of Christian thought and practices to non-Christian beliefs permitted? Without doubt, the acceptance and maintenance of the aesthetic and intellectual aspects of non-Catholic cultures is not only permitted but essential, even to avoid the isolation of converts from the rest of their countrymen. The consequences would always be sad, even when the converts desire such separation and cultural change for any reason.

Therefore, the system of adaptation to Indian culture introduced by Fr. De Nobili was a wise and necessary step. The converts of De Nobili, as well as today’s converts in the territories where he worked, do not externally differ from other Hindus. They wear the same clothing; bear the same names or Sanskrit and Tamil translations of Hebrew and Latin names similar to Hindu names; have long hair tied in topknots and wear earrings. Converted Brahmins are strictly vegetarian, wear the scapular in the form of the sacred cord, and use caste-distinctive marks, to the surprise of modern Europeans. On this last point, a word of explanation is necessary. There is no doubt that the maintenance and persistence of caste marks among Tamil Christians has gone beyond the intentions of De Nobili. In particular, the separation within the Church itself of the group of converts from the depressed classes was a survival that the ancient pioneers did not foresee. In our days of social reforms among Hindus themselves and the abolition of untouchability, this Christian caste separatism has caused some scandal and, instead of aiding conversions, has constituted an obstacle. Ecclesiastical authorities have recognized this and acted vigorously to abolish these distinctions, not without opposition from caste Christians. It must, however, be admitted that among the converts of the Portuguese missionaries, such a practice does not exist.

BIBL.:
For the ancient missions: G. Schurhammer, Die zeitgenössischen Quellen zur Geschichte Portugiesisch-Asiens und seiner Nachbarländer zur Zeit des Hl. Franz Xaver, Rome 1962; J. Wicki, Documenta Indica, Rome 1948-; for the Malabar rites: A. Launay, Histoire des missions de l'Inde, Paris 1898; for the work of De Nobili: P. Dahmen, Roberto de Nobili, Rome 1924; for the modern missions: J. Bertrand, Les missions de l'Inde, Paris 1903; A. Mulders, Geschichte der katholischen Kirche in Indien, Aachen 1923; J. Schmidlin, Katholische Missionsgeschichte, Steyl 1925; for the social and religious situation: J. N. Farquhar, Modern Religious Movements in India, London 1915; S. Radhakrishnan, The Hindu View of Life, London 1927; for the untouchables: G. A. Gokhale, The Abolition of Untouchability, Bombay 1937; for the adaptation problem: J. Monchanin, Ecrits spirituels, Paris 1965; H. de Lubac, Aspects du bouddhisme, Paris 1951.
Lorenzo Balconi

But cultural and social adaptation does not exhaust the problem. There exists a more serious question regarding the adaptation of philosophical and religious doctrines, that is, the effort to present Christian truths using the concepts and phraseology current in the highest Hindu thought and practice. This movement seems to go far beyond the ideas of adaptation initially proposed by Fr. De Nobili. A learned demonstration of such a method is represented by the book of Fr. Johanns, To Christ through the Vedanta, and the pamphlet of Fr. I. B. Fessein, The Vedanta vindicated. In this regard, it is easy to accept the language of devotion and adapt to Christian use the tone and spirit of certain hymns common among Hindus, in which the concept of God and His human manifestations is often closer to Christian thought. Indeed, among Christians of Marathi origin, some perfectly Christian popular hymns are closely modeled on devotional hymns by Tukhām, Namdev, and other devotees of Vithobā. Furthermore, it can be said that a good part of the beautiful Christian poetry in the Tamil language is based on the works of the Tamil Shaivites and the hymns of the celebrated Thiagaraja.

The crucial problem remains the adaptation of philosophical and doctrinal truths. Can the religious and philosophical speculations of the great Āchāryas—Śaṅkara, Rāmānuja, Madhva—and their followers be adapted to Christianity as the thought of Plato and Aristotle was? The present moment in the discussion does not allow for an answer. However, some considerations on the matter can be presented. First, it must not be forgotten that, despite certain divergences among the various schools of Indian philosophy and the existence of a limited number of ancient and modern adherents to a strict monotheism, the pantheistic conception of God is one of the predominant aspects of Indian philosophy. These ambiguities make it very difficult for the Christian believer to ascertain whether the concepts hidden behind certain terms—such as God, sin, Providence—common to Hinduism and Christianity are identical in both systems. It is obvious that pantheistic ambiguities make it difficult for Hindus to adopt certain intellectual and moral dispositions essential to the act of faith, which is indispensable in Christianity. On this point, adaptation must not lead to any confusion of ideas.

Second, one of the greatest obstacles to the conversion of the educated upper class of Hindus to Christianity is the concept of religion, vaguely current in Hindu circles and now specifically and emphatically taught by Hindu leaders such as Ramakrishna and Mahatma Gandhi, according to which religions are schools of spirituality, means to achieve union with God. Just as there are different methods and schools of spirituality to attain this union, so the various religions are all of equal value in reaching this goal. For an educated Hindu today, Christianity is not a false religion but a great and good religion suited to the genius and culture of the European people, while their own is more suited to the genius and culture of the Indian people. Now, any apologetic method tending to confirm or encourage such an attitude toward the entire religious question cannot certainly be defended.

Third, between India and Europe there does not exist the great cultural and psychological difference that is noted between peoples of European origin and civilization and those of other civilizations, especially those of the Far East, cited as a reason and justification for complete adaptation. The majority of the peoples of India belong to the Aryan race. They speak languages derived from the common Aryan stock; over the last 120 years, they have had a European system of education that has shaped their concepts of art and philosophy; in their entirety, they accept the methods, conclusions, and system of expressions common to modern European scientific research and are familiar with the categories of thought current in European philosophy. They can, therefore, understand and absorb the great theses of European Christian philosophy without serious difficulty.

It follows that India, in its path of preparation to receive the faith, does not so much need a Christian philosophy as a correct and complete transmission of the central ideas of Christian philosophy, which constitute the praeambula fidei. To this end, over the last 100 years, the great means of the school has been placed in the hands of Catholic missionaries. The demands for education are ever-increasing to such an extent that the government, with its resources, is unable to satisfy them. Private initiatives, and even missionaries, are called upon to undertake educational works of a university type, which are supported by generous financial assistance. The great Christian educational institutions have not only gained a social and personal influence that has placed them in a position of respect in the days of India’s independence but have also accomplished indispensable work in philosophical preparation, which seems absolutely necessary before Indian intellectuals can fully accept the Christian faith. It must therefore be concluded that higher education for a multitude of non-Catholic students is not only a particular aspect of missionary work in India today but also an important means of missionary methodology in the country.

Here, a consideration arises suggested by the concept of religion as a method or school of prayer and union with God. It is not difficult to demonstrate that, even based on this partial and insufficient concept of religion, Christianity has a claim to superiority over other religions. To this end, the dissemination of the lives of Catholic saints and of Christian sanctity in general is destined to produce a profound impression on the minds of Hindus. India bows reverently before examples of sanctity. On the scale of values, the saint is still superior to the soldier and the statesman. The immense prestige exercised by Mahatma Gandhi over his fellow citizens was due mainly to the fact that he expressed in an imposing manner the Indian type of the saint. Indians read avidly the lives of Christian saints. Perhaps full use of this opportunity has not yet been made. Every exaggeration must be avoided, and one should rather rely on scientific investigations and accurate presentation to gain a decisive advantage over the stories of Hindu ascetics and fakirs in the modern mentality. If it can be shown that Christianity is the most effective school of sanctity, a great step would have been taken toward its acceptance as absolute truth. The Catholic Truth Societies, newspapers, periodicals, and Catholic publishing houses can work in this direction with great profit.

But more than the history of lives lived in the past and in distant places, the examples of sanctity that Catholic missionaries can and must give are immensely more effective. As has already been said, India admires the saint, and in its concept of sanctity, asceticism and mortification hold a very important place. Without fear of exaggeration, it can be said that nothing more weakens the cause of missionary work and diminishes the possibilities of Catholic propagation than the observation of Catholic missionaries—who have renounced the world and correspond to the Hindu sannyasis—living a life that seems similar to that of the English rulers and other European sahibs.

Certainly, while austerity is a relative matter, it cannot be denied that many European missionaries live a life of hardship and mortification, yet their hidden self-denial often remains unknown to unsympathetic observers. In India, as elsewhere, it is not enough to be just; justice must also appear to be practiced. Similarly, it is not enough for a man to be truly holy; his holiness must be visible and shine before men. In that country, there is no place for human respect regarding religious practices. Prayer, mortification, and austerity of life are things that are admired and should not be concealed among the glories of Christianity. When all other methods have failed, when discussions about the merits of this or that method of adaptation seem to lead nowhere, such a fundamental truth always remains: to bring souls to God and to Christ, one must live in profound and evident union with God and with Christ.

In the vast territory of India, setting aside Islam, alongside Hinduism, there are also followers of Buddhism, Jainism, and Zoroastrianism. This fact shows that, contrary to general assumption, India is not a country of stubborn conservatism in the field of religions. Among the adherents of these religions, the missionary method should not differ from that considered best among high-caste Hindus.

Confucianism, arriving in Japan from China around the 3rd century A.D., and its highly elaborate norms constituted the premise for the psychological developments of the Japanese. Courtesy, love of country, respect for hierarchies and established authority—sentiments so vivid among the Japanese—have their roots in this ancient code of honor and social morality, in which, however, there is no trace of an ethic that justifies the metaphysical reasons for these norms.

In the 6th century, Buddhism, already widespread in the Far East, penetrated Japan from Korea and took hold among the upper classes through the work of Prince Shōtoku (572-621), supplanting Confucianism and Shintoism. It replaced them with the leaven of a more mature and ancient civilization and introduced into Japan the concept of the afterlife. Adopting the attitude most consonant with the Japanese forma mentis, Buddhism began by assimilating Shintoism and, in a relatively short time, penetrated Japanese life with such intelligence and flexibility that it became indissolubly linked to II. In short, it created a way of life from which it is no longer possible to divert the Japanese. Yet this state of affairs does not generate an insurmountable obstacle to conversion. It is not difficult to accept and embrace the refined poetry of certain manifestations that have, in the final analysis, now lost any religious meaning. Indeed, if today Buddhism maintains its positions in the countryside, in the cities—far more advanced—it has instead been almost completely emptied of authentic religious sentiment, assuming the complex appearance of a pantheistic philosophy. Even the intellectual bonzes are rarely believers, and those who are believers are superstitious and ignorant. But the divine ferment of spiritual restlessness exists and is proven by the rise, proliferation, and affirmation of superstitious beliefs, such as those of Tenri-kyō, Hitono-michi, Ōmoto-kyō, etc.

The greatest obstacle facing Christianity is rather the materialism that lurks within Buddhism as within Confucianism, the lack of awareness of universal and absolute values—a lack that is the fruit of that innate eclecticism by which Japan still appears today as the immense crucible of the most disparate ideas in a continuous phase of adaptation and transformation. Nevertheless, already St. Francis Xavier in 1549 wrote that "it was a joy" to sow the divine word among that people, hungry for moral equilibrium and spiritual certainties.

A fervent apostolic activity then united missionaries and people in a single momentum (v. Evangelizzazione). When Meiji opened the country's borders (1868) to Western civilization, the Japanese people easily mastered the technical secrets of the Western world but found it difficult to assimilate the fruits of its millenary philosophy. It was above all utilitarianism, scientific positivism, and modernism that penetrated the Japanese soul. Moreover, Protestants, with their schools and the press, cast Catholicism in a bad light and succeeded in winning over various elements of the educated class.

Catholics also arrived in Japan without the means of the Protestants, without being supported by the prestige of a great European Catholic elite. Although the 1889 Constitution guaranteed freedom of worship, opposition to Catholicism was strong everywhere, in progressive cities as in the countryside tenaciously clinging to ancestral traditions. Catholics fought and continue to fight on two fronts: against the advance of progressive theories and the stubborn defense of past ideological positions. The efforts of missionaries, and in particular of the Fathers of the Missions Étrangères de Paris, who practically laid the foundations of the Japanese Church, were enormous. The Marianists founded the first Catholic school; many others followed until, in 1913, the Jesuits established the first Catholic university.

But nationalist sentiment was stronger than ever. Having defeated Russia, Japan believed in its invincibility. The militarists took advantage of this to dismantle the weak opposition of the intellectual class imbued with liberalism and gradually secured the levers of command, leading to the final catastrophe.

In 1945, with myths shattered, patriotic ideals humiliated, and national pride broken, the Japanese people found themselves facing the most terrifying tragedy in their history, in indescribable conditions of material and moral misery. Only Christianity can fill the frightening void in their souls, but he who believed he could win them over to God by taking advantage of the advantages offered by the present situation would fall into a fatal error, for the soul of a people does not change by decree in a brief span of years. In this soul, the old ferments of restlessness still obscurely seethe. If Shintoism, as a national religion, is prohibited, if Confucianism appears remote and outdated, if Buddhism crystallizes in the vain repetition of rites consecrated by tradition, all their sediments remain in the darkest depths of the Japanese soul. Against these sediments, against utilitarian and opportunistic sensibilities, against old and new materialism, against the advancing Marxist ideology, Catholic missionaries must struggle. A difficult task, which requires precise knowledge of a situation that is not merely the product of recent events but has remote origins and is the sum of all that has been set forth here.

First and foremost, it is necessary to show the Japanese people that Catholicism is not in tow to any political power, nor is it a foreign religion of foreigners, because, by its essence, it transcends any racial or national boundary. Furthermore, when the force of the spirit will have defeated the adoration of matter, when it will be possible to replace the narrow vision of relative truths dear to the Japanese mentality with the incomparable light of the one absolute truth that is Christ’s, only then will the ground be free for fruitful apostolic activity. The missionary’s work, therefore, must not be limited to the establishment of charitable institutions, always commendable, but to eradicate from the Japanese mentality the utilitarian concept of the missionary as a well-established man because he is learned and philanthropic. The fundamental problem remains the cautious and intelligent demolition of all those ideological superstructures, both ancient and recent, that have thus far barred the way to the universality of the Catholic idea.

BIBL.:
G. B. Sansoni, Il Giappone e il Cristianesimo, Roma 1938; J. Laures, The Catholic Church in Japan, Tōkyō 1954; M. Anesaki, History of Japanese Religion, London 1930; J. F. Moran, The Japanese and the Jesuits, London 1993; E. Papinot, Dictionnaire d'histoire et de géographie du Japon, Tōkyō 1906; A. Pagès, Histoire de la religion chrétienne au Japon, Paris 1901-1902; R. K. Reischauer, Studies in Japanese Buddhism, New York 1917; G. Renondeau, Le shintoïsme, Paris 1960; L. Wieger, Histoire des croyances religieuses et des opinions philosophiques en Chine, Paris 1922; J. B. Kraus, Die Japanische Mentalität, Tōkyō 1938; A. Palmieri, Il Cristianesimo in Giappone, Roma 1926; P. Humbertclaude, La restauration religieuse au Japon, Paris 1938; A. Seidel, Japanische Religionsgeschichte, Stuttgart 1910.
G. D.

If Buddhism has instilled in the Japanese a love for nature, for symbols, for solemn ceremonies, the missionary can demonstrate that the Roman liturgy is capable of exercising a far deeper fascination on the spirit and that no one knew how to love and sing of nature like a Catholic saint: Francis of Assisi. If Confucianism has educated the people in courtesy, respect, and loyalty, the missionary will teach that only Catholic ethics, which preaches the same noble sentiments, clarifies their loftiest motive, which is nothing but the law of love. If the Japanese retain a sense of dignity and suffer from the present degradation of moral values, due to the consequences of defeat, the missionary will say that Catholicism is the highest champion of a morality that admits no deviations. If Western philosophies and sciences have polarized the interest of the Japanese, the missionary possesses such elements as to demonstrate that Christian philosophy is far superior to the intellectual currents that have seduced the Nipponic spirit and that the truths demonstrated by science today, in very many cases, coincide with those proclaimed by faith. If, for thousands of disinherited, Marxist ideology appears as the last hope, the missionary will demonstrate, concretely and practically, by enacting the law of Christian charity, that no social doctrine equals the Christian concept of justice and human dignity.

The method will vary depending on whether the missionary operates in cities or in the countryside, whether he deals with men or women, with the elderly or the young, with Confucianists or Buddhists or Protestants, but the key to final success will always depend on the mental flexibility with which the missionary is able to present the unique message of Christ to potential converts, appealing to the healthiest virtues of the race, which are not incompatible with this message.

The Church has begun to create its ranks in Japan by relying on indigenous elements, and today all bishops are Japanese. However, difficulties arise in large numbers due to the fact that Catholics are in the minority, and it is therefore not always possible to carry out a broad selection among the available elements. Japan thus remains, fundamentally, a mission country. The kyoku-renmei (the local hierarchy), which includes all bishops, the heads of the various missionary organizations, and welfare works, is the coordinating body for all Catholic activities, created precisely with the intent of not dispersing efforts. Between the indigenous clergy and the Western clergy, a union as strong as that which bound the first Christians—a weak and heroic minority in the face of the overwhelming power of the Roman Empire—is necessary, that union which allowed them to ensure the triumph of Christ. Indeed, the Church today finds itself in Japan in approximately the same phase of development as at its beginnings in the West. It is not possible to simply transplant the complex ecclesiastical organism existing in countries with a long Catholic tradition. On the contrary, religious instruction, without compromising the purity of dogma, must proceed gradually, making concessions where possible, later integrating this elementary instruction among converts with a complementary and superior one.

Buddhism perhaps achieved such great success in Japan because it brought the most refined expressions of that Chinese civilization which the Japanese admired. Today, the Catholic Church presents itself to the same Japan as the highest expression of Western civilization, whose greatness the Japanese recognize. And just as Francis Xavier asked that the greatest European scholars be sent to him so that the force of their arguments could defeat the Nipponic sages on their own ground and with their own weapons, so today it is necessary that especially the highest European culture participate, directly or indirectly, in the evangelization of this people.

Both are heirs and authors of highly original civilizations, which only rarely express themselves in languages common to the two worlds in contact.

Over time and space, contacts between Christendom and Islam have occurred, but under conditions that strangely distorted their outcomes: not a true reciprocal knowledge, nor mutual understanding, but only external contacts, which ordinarily served to deepen differences—if not enmities.

Islam holds the conviction that it possesses within itself its salvation, the salvation of each man and of all men. It expects nothing from the outside except the danger of corruption and degradation. This is a very strong assertion, full of consequences in its simplicity, but one that many non-Muslims still struggle to understand. Undoubtedly, the Qur'an contains generous words for the "People of the Book," Jews and Christians, who have benefited from written Revelation; but it reserves harsh words for those who have not faithfully preserved the Revelation. They have altered and falsified their sacred books. It must be admitted that if the Qur'an criticizes Christian dogmatic positions, this is because it has in mind the doctrines of the Christian sects that proliferated in Arabia in Muhammad's time. The criticisms often hit the mark. Nevertheless, the profound respect for the Prophet-Miracle Worker Jesus, son of Mary, inculcated by the Qur'an itself, has remained in Islam and has deeply impressed the popular mentality, which knows and venerates not only the person of Jesus but also the central point of Christian doctrine, namely the precept of goodness and mercy (sūrah 57, 26).

Unfortunately, the Islamic world, taken as a whole, sees a Christian world long divided and launched into the conquest of other peoples, especially Muslims. Of the Church, it has known rather the exterior in an unpleasant confusion of politics and religion, and it ignores—and could not admit if it knew—the continuity between Jesus and the Church, and that the Church is the Mystical Body of Christ. Furthermore, following the Qur'an, it rejects as a greater impiety toward divine transcendence the dogma of the Incarnation. It follows that mutual understanding in the doctrinal and practical fields presents itself as highly delicate and difficult.

When Christians began to know Islam, they immediately adopted a defensive stance to safeguard Christian doctrine, and the literature is not free from sarcasm and violent attacks. This way of acting has lasted until our days, so that one is the enemy of the other. History speaks of Christians, theologians, and religious who sought by various means to make known to Muslims the true doctrinal thought of the Church. Their efforts, however, remained practically without result. It is necessary to wait until the 19th century and the historical circumstances of a new effort by the Church to expand into some regions recently opened to the penetration of the Western world, especially in Africa, in order to confront the true problem of rapprochement. It was the merit of Card. Lavigerie (v.) to have highlighted that the difficulty of an encounter is fundamentally of a doctrinal order, but in reality depends on prejudices and psychological obstacles. The true means to make them disappear is that the Church, through Christians and primarily through its priests and missionaries, presents itself as the heir and continuator of Jesus, who left his disciples the sole precept of charity. Only through charity will Muslims be able to recognize them as faithful to their Master and to the Gospel and worthy of their trust.

"The message you have heard from the beginning is that you love one another" (1 Jn. 3, 11). Of that message, Muslims await the testimony from the Church. This is what not only the Qur'an says, but also the simple rural population, which often repeats to Christians: "what we expect from you is mercy and goodness."

The word charity must summarize the entire reason

for the presence of the Church and its action among peoples who are not under its obedience. Therefore, its first quality must be disinterestedness. If the witness of Christ among Muslims wants to be a conqueror, a fighter who goes on the attack, it is better for him and for the Church that he remain at home. Instead, he must be a witness of Christ and be so for his entire life. In particular, he must maintain complete independence from temporal powers, manifest sovereign respect for autonomous societies and their structure, and for the civilizations in which they live and which have been created or reformed by Islam. It is equally necessary to respect the efforts of social progress and evolutions toward this or that form of civilization, even if imbued with Christian spirit, because this is not the Church's affair. All the more, the Christian will show sincere love for the religious sentiment of those men who do not follow his faith but are also men of faith. One must, therefore, love them as they are and not insofar as they resemble us.

More positively, the witnesses of the Church before Muslims must assume their responsibilities so that the material progress brought by the West does not constitute an occasion for moral and spiritual ruin. A total upheaval of all the structures of social and individual life is underway. Modern technique and economy are destroying the traditional frameworks that maintained the effectiveness of Islamic precepts of moral and religious life. Everything risks being brutally swept away.

In what way can the Church practically assume its share of responsibility? Primarily, by awakening or creating a new spirit among the Christian minority populations in Muslim countries, that is, an authentically Christian and Catholic spirit. If these were to enclose themselves in a spirit of superiority, they should be invited to open themselves to the surrounding reality: to ensure that the collaborations or contacts that these Christians have sought on the political or economic plane are also established on a human plane. Even at the cost of true heroism, they should know how to observe an attitude of justice based on the fundamental equality of men, all creatures of God and loved by their Creator, and an attitude of charity that obliges them to dedicate themselves to others even with sacrifice, sincerely convinced that he who has received more must give more. It is easily understood that such an effort, required of Christians, demands a special and arduous formation.

Moreover, Christian monasticism, with its practice of a life of adoration and contemplation, can draw broad currents of sympathy and trust toward Christianity. Special mention must be made, however, of those religious congregations whose members devote their lives to the world of Islam in a pure movement of charity. They will profess great respect for the opinions and behaviors of those whose lives they wish to share. Thus, they will follow their customs, gestures, language, and culture to the furthest possible extent. Through their language and culture, they will seek to grasp their psychology and mentality. With great care, they will highlight all points of history or philosophical or religious doctrine common to Muslims and Christians.

In this regard, it is essential to remember that the Muslim community reacts with pride against any external attempt, seeing in it a threat and a will to attack what it holds most sacred. Now, the Church has been sent to save, not to destroy, to bring completion to what is purest in the aspirations of those peoples, who are, moreover, ready to welcome what they do not have but not to lose what they possess. The witness of the Church, therefore, will not merely seek to know what Muslims are but, through wise adaptation, will walk alongside them in all that is morally legitimate, until it is admitted—indeed, requested—to contribute new riches. It is easy to understand that such a vision of things, such a generous adaptation, makes the missionary an educator who teaches his fellow beings the use of their freedom, and a guide for other Christians living among Muslims.

He will be the one who provokes fruitful encounters, conversations, and exchanges in the fields of intelligence and action, to open hearts and allow them to be enriched, spontaneously finding their own good. He will take care to restore to all, men and women, the sense of their personal responsibilities so that they may assume them. To this end, he prepares generations of educators, qualified individuals, and family heads. By restoring their self-confidence, he will provide them with the practical means to put into practice the principles they know and only partially realize.