THE MISSION
_July_, 1916.
It is the dry season. Every evening we go for a walk on the big
sandbanks in the river bed and enjoy the breeze which is blowing
upstream. The hospital is not so busy as usual at this season, for the
villagers are occupied with their great fishing expeditions, and will
not bring me any patients till they are over. So I will make use of
these vacant hours to note down the impressions I have formed about the
mission. What do I really think about mission work after three years
on a mission station?
What does the forest dweller understand of Christianity, and how does
he understand--or misunderstand--it? In Europe I met the objection
again and again that Christianity is something too high for primitive
man, and it used to disturb me; now, as a result of my experience, I
can boldly declare, "No; it is not."
First, let me say that the child of nature thinks a great deal more
than is generally supposed. Even though he can neither read nor write,
he has ideas on many more subjects than we imagine. Conversations I
have had in the hospital with old natives about the ultimate things of
life have deeply impressed me. The distinction between white and
coloured, educated and {154} uneducated, disappears when one gets
talking with the forest dweller about our relations to each other, to
mankind, to the universe, and to the infinite. "The negroes are deeper
than we are," a white man once said to me, "because they don't read
newspapers," and the paradox has some truth in it.
[Sidenote: Primitive man and the religion of Jesus]
They have, then, a great natural capacity for taking in the elements of
religion, though the historical element in Christianity lies,
naturally, outside their ken. The negro lives with a general view of
things which is innocent of history, and he has no means of measuring
and appreciating the time-interval between Jesus and ourselves.
Similarly, the doctrinal statements which explain how the divine plan
of redemption was prepared and effected, are not easily made
intelligible to him, even though he has an elementary consciousness of
what redemption is. Christianity is for him the light that shines amid
the darkness of his fears; it assures him that he is not in the power
of nature-spirits, ancestral spirits, or fetishes, and that no human
being has any sinister power over another, since the will of God really
controls everything that goes on in the world.
"I lay in cruel bondage,
Thou cam'st and mad'st me free!"
These words from Paul Gerhardt's Advent hymn express better than any
others what Christianity means for primitive man. That is again and
again the thought that fills my mind when I take part in a service on a
mission station.
It is well known that hopes and fears about a world beyond play no part
in the religion of primitive man; the child of nature does not fear
death, but regards it merely as something natural. The more mediæval
{155} form of Christianity which keeps anxiety about a judgment to come
in the foreground, has fewer points of contact with his mentality than
the more ethical form. To him Christianity is the moral view of life
and the world, which was revealed by Jesus; it is a body of teaching
about the kingdom of God and the grace of God.
Moreover, there slumbers within him an ethical rationalist. He has a
natural responsiveness to the notion of goodness and all that is
connected with it in religion. Certainly, Rousseau and the illuminati
of that age idealised the child of nature, but there was nevertheless
truth in their views about him--in their belief, that is, in his
possession of high moral and rational capacities. No one must think
that he has described the thought-world of the negro when he has made a
full list of all the superstitious ideas which he has taken over, and
the traditional legal rules of his tribe. They do not form his whole
universe, although he is controlled by them. There lives within him a
dim suspicion that a correct view of what is truly good must be
attainable as the result of reflection. In proportion as he becomes
familiar with the higher moral ideas of the religion of Jesus, he finds
utterance for something in himself that has hitherto been dumb, and
something that has been tightly bound up finds release. The longer I
live among the Ogowe negroes, the clearer this becomes to me.
Thus redemption through Jesus is experienced by him as a two-fold
liberation; his view of the world is purged of the previously dominant
element of fear, and it becomes ethical instead of unethical. Never
have I felt so strongly the victorious power of what is simplest in the
teaching of Jesus as when, in the big schoolroom {156} at Lambarene,
which serves as a church as well, I have been explaining the Sermon on
the Mount, the parables of the Master, and the sayings of St. Paul
about the new life in which we live.
* * * * *
But now, how far does the negro, as a Christian, really become another
man? At his baptism he has renounced all superstition, but
superstition is so woven into the texture of his own life and that of
the society in which he lives, that it cannot be got rid of in
twenty-four hours; he falls again and again in big things as in small.
I think, however, that we can take too seriously the customs and
practices from which he cannot set himself entirely free; the important
thing is to make him understand that nothing--no evil spirit--really
exists behind his heathenism.
If a child enters the world in our hospital its mother and itself are
both painted white all over face and body so as to make them look
terrifying, a custom which is found in practice among almost all
primitive peoples. The object is to either frighten or to deceive the
evil spirits which on such an occasion have a special opportunity of
being dangerous. I do not worry myself about this usage; I even say
sometimes, as soon as the child is born: "Take care you don't forget
the painting!" There are times when a little friendly irony is more
dangerous to the spirits and the fetishes than zeal expended on a
direct attack upon them. I venture to remind my readers that we
Europeans, ourselves, have many customs which, although we never think
about it, had their origin in heathen ideas.
[Illustration: THE BOYS' SCHOOL AT LAMBARENE. View from my bungalow.
Below is the little corrugated iron shed containing reserve stores of
bandages and drugs.]
The ethical conversion, also, is often incomplete with {157} a negro,
but in order to be just to such a convert one must distinguish between
the real morality which springs from the heart, and the respectable
morality of society; it is wonderful how faithful he often is to the
former. One must live among them to know how much it means when a man,
because he is a Christian, will not wreak the vengeance which he is
expected to take, or even the blood revenge which is thought to be an
obligation on him. On the whole I feel that the primitive man is much
more good natured than we Europeans are; with Christianity added to his
good qualities wonderfully noble characters can result. I expect I am
not the only white man who feels himself put to shame by the natives.
But to give up the common habit of lying and the readiness to steal,
and to become a more or less reliable man in our sense, is something
different from practising the religion of love. If I may venture on a
paradox, I would say that the converted native is a moral man more
often than he is an honourable one. Still, little can be effected by
condemnatory expressions. We must see to it that we put as few
temptations as possible in the way of the coloured Christian.
[Sidenote: Native Christians]
But there are native Christians who are in every respect thoroughly
moral personalities; I meet one such every day. It is Ojembo, the
teacher in our boys' school, whose name means "the song"; I look upon
him as one of the finest men that I know anywhere.
How is it that traders and officials so often speak so unfavourably of
native Christians? On my very first journey up the river I learnt from
two fellow travellers that they never, on principle, engage any
Christian "boys." The fact is that Christianity is considered {158}
responsible for the unfavourable phenomena of intellectual
emancipation. The young Christians have mostly been in our mission
schools, and get into the difficult position which for the native is so
often bound up with a school education. They think themselves too good
for many kinds of work, and will no longer be treated as ordinary
negroes. I have experienced this with some of my own boys. One of
them, Atombogunjo by name, who was in the first class at N'Gômô, worked
for me once during the school holidays. On the very first day, while
he was washing up on the verandah, he stuck up a school book, open,
before him. "What a fine boy! What keenness for learning!" said my
wife. Ultimately, however, we found that the open school book meant
something beyond a desire for knowledge; it was also a symbol of
independence intended to show us that the fifteen-year-old youth was
too good for ordinary service, and was no longer willing to be treated
as a mere "boy," like other "boys." Finally, I could stand his conceit
no longer, and put him unceremoniously outside the door.
Now in the colonies almost all schools are mission schools--the
Governments establish hardly any, but leave the work to the
missions--so that all the unhealthy phenomena which accompany
intellectual emancipation show themselves among the scholars and are
therefore put down as the fault of Christianity. The whites, however,
often forget what they owe to the missions. Once, when, on board the
steamer, the manager of a large company began to abuse the missions in
my presence, I asked him: "Where, then, did the black clerks and the
black store employees who work for you, get their education? To whom
do you owe it that you {159} can find natives here on the Ogowe who can
read, write, and handle figures, and who are to a certain extent
reliable?" He had no reply to make to that.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: How a mission works]
But how is a mission carried on? With what must it be provided, and
how does it work? In Europe many people picture it as a sort of
village parsonage set down in the virgin forest, but it is something
much more comprehensive than that, and more complicated too; it may be
said to be the seat of a bishop, an educational centre, a farming
establishment, and a market!
In an ordinary mission station there must be one missionary as head,
another for the mission work in the district, a man to teach in the
boys' school, and a woman for the girls' school, with one or two
practical workers, and, if possible, a doctor. Only a mission station
of that size can accomplish anything worth mentioning; an incomplete
one only uses up men and money with no permanent result.
As an illustration of this take Talagonga, where at the beginning of my
time here there was a splendid evangelist working, Mr. Ford, an
American, but the station had no practical workers. There came a time
when it was absolutely necessary to repair the floor of the house,
built upon piles, in which Mr. and Mrs. Ford and their children lived,
because mosquitoes found their way in through the holes in it, and, as
fever carriers, endangered the lives of the inmates. So Mr. Ford set
to work at the job and finished it in about two months, during which
time the neighbourhood was left without any spiritual direction. A
practical worker would have {160} done it all in three weeks and made a
permanent job of it, not mere temporary patchwork. This is one example
out of hundreds of the useless, unprofitable condition of
insufficiently manned mission stations.
In the tropics a man can do at most half of what he can manage in a
temperate climate. If he is dragged about from one task to another he
gets used up so quickly that, though he is still on the spot, the
working capacity he represents is _nil_. Hence a strict division of
labour is absolutely necessary, though on the other hand, each member
must be able, when circumstances demand it, to turn his hand to
anything. A missionary who does not understand something of practical
work, of garden work, of treatment of the sick, is a misfortune to a
mission station.
The missionary who is there for the evangelistic work must as a rule
have nothing to do with the carrying on of the daily work of the
station; he must be free to undertake every day his longer or shorter
journeys for the purpose of visiting the villages, nor must he be
obliged to be back at the mission on a particular day. He may be
invited while out on one of his journeys to go to this or that village
which was not included in his plan, because the people there want to
hear the Gospel. He must never answer that he has no time, but must be
able to give them two or three days or even a whole week. When he gets
back he must rest, for an unbroken fortnight on the river or on forest
paths will certainly have exhausted him.
Too few missionary journeys, and those too hastily carried through,
that is the miserable mistake of almost all missions, and the cause of
it always is that in consequence of an insufficient number of workers
or of {161} unwise division of work, the evangelist takes part in the
superintendence of the station, and the Head of the station goes
travelling.
On the Head of the station falls the work of the services in the
station and in the nearest villages, together with the superintendence
of the schools and of the cultivated land. He ought really never to
leave the station for a day; he must have his eyes everywhere, and any
one ought to be able to speak to him at any time. His most prosaic
business is conducting the market. The foodstuffs which we need for
the school children, the labourers, and the boatmen of the station, we
do not have to buy with money. Only when the natives know that they
can get satisfactory goods of all sorts from us, do they bring us
regular supplies of manioc, bananas, and dried fish; so the mission
must have a shop. Two or three times a week the natives come with the
product of their plots and with fish, and barter what they have brought
for salt, nails, kerosene, fishing materials, tobacco, saws, knives,
axes, and cloth. We do not supply rum or spirits. This takes up the
Head's whole morning, and then what a time it takes him in addition to
send off his European orders correctly and at the right time, to keep
the accounts accurately, to pay the boatmen and the labourers their
wages, and to look after all the cultivated ground! What losses are
entailed, too, if he fails to have necessary material in hand when it
is wanted! A roof has to be put on, and there are no raffia leaves
ready, dried and sewn into sheets; there is some building to be done,
and there are no beams and no boards; or the best time for brickmaking
has been allowed to pass unused; or he has postponed too long the
re-smoking of the {162} store of dried fish for the school children,
and discovers one morning that it is all a mass of worms and good for
nothing! It all depends on the Head whether the mission station does
its work cheaply and successfully, or expensively and unsuccessfully.
On one of our stations, for example, there had been for several years a
succession of Heads who knew but little about land cultivation, and had
not pruned the coffee bushes properly. They had let them grow so tall
that they no longer produced what they ought to have done, and ladders
had to be used to gather the crop. Then it was necessary to cut them
off just above the ground, and it will be years before they have
produced new shoots which bear a normal crop.
Another of the Head's duties is to investigate the not infrequent cases
of theft, in which matter he has more opportunity than he likes for
developing whatever detective talent he may possess. He has also to
straighten out all the disputes between the coloured inhabitants of the
settlement, and in this he must never show any impatience. For hours
together he must listen attentively to their barren argumentations,
since otherwise he is not the upright judge according to their notions.
If canoes come from another station he must entertain and feed the
rowers. If the steamer's siren sounds, he must be off with canoes to
the landing place to take charge of the mail and the cases of goods.
Again, it may happen that there has been too small a supply of
foodstuffs brought in on a market day; this means that canoes must be
sent off to the more distant villages to secure what is needed. The
expedition may take two or three days; what work is to be left undone
because of it? And then the canoes may {163} come back empty, so that
a similar expedition has to be made in another direction!
What a terribly unromantic business life for one who came out to preach
the religion of Jesus! If he had not to conduct the morning and
evening services in the schoolroom and to preach on Sundays, the Head
could almost forget that he was a missionary at all! But it is just by
means of the Christian sympathy and gentleness that he shows in all
this everyday business that he exercises his greatest influence;
whatever level of spirituality the community reaches is due to nothing
so much as to the success of its Head in this matter of--Preaching
without Words.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Mission schools]
A word now about the schools. A school to which children come for
instruction while they live at home is impossible here because of the
distances; there are villages, for example, attached to the Lambarene
Station, which are sixty or seventy miles away from it. The children
must therefore live on the station, and the parents bring them in
October and take them away in July when the big fishing expeditions
begin. In return for the cost of their living the children, both boys
and girls, do some sort of work, and their day is arranged very much as
follows: From 7 to 9 in the morning they are at work cutting down grass
and bush, for the defence of the station against invasion by the forest
is in the main their task. When they have done all the clearing that
is necessary at one end of the settlement they can always go to some
other part where the undergrowth will have shot up again as it was
before. From 9 to 10 is a rest hour, during which they breakfast; from
{164} 10 to 12 there is school. The recreation time between 12 and 1
is usually spent in bathing and fishing. From 2 to 4 there is school
again, and after that, work again for about an hour and a half. Some
help in the cocoa plantation; the boys often go to the practical worker
to help him, and they prepare bricks, carry building material where it
is wanted, or finish digging or other work on the soil. Then the food
for the following day is given out; at 6 comes the evening service, and
after that they get supper ready. There is a big shed under which the
children cook their bananas in native fashion, and they divide into
groups of five or six, each of which has a pot and a fire hole to
itself. At 9 they go to bed, that is, they retire to their plank
bedsteads under the mosquito netting. On Sunday afternoons they make
canoe expeditions, the mistress going out with a crew of girls. In the
dry season they play on the sandbanks.
The work of the boys' school suffers, unfortunately, in this way, that
when the evangelist goes out on his preaching rounds, or when a canoe
expedition is needed for any purpose, a crew of boys has to be taken
for it, and they may be absent for as much as a week. When shall we
reach such a stage of efficiency that every mission station has its
motor boat?
* * * * *
Should a missionary have a thorough education? Yes. The better a
man's mental life and his intellectual interests are developed, the
better he will be able to hold out in Africa. Without this safeguard
he is soon in danger of becoming a nigger, as it is called here. This
shows itself in the way he loses every higher point of view; then his
capacity for intellectual work {165} diminishes, and he begins, just
like a negro, to attach importance to, and to argue at any length
about, the smallest matters. In the matter of theology, too, the more
thorough the training the better.
That under certain circumstances a man may be a good missionary without
having studied theology is proved by the example of Mr. Felix Faure,
who at the present time is the Head of our station. He is by training
an agricultural engineer (_ingénieur agronome_) and came to the Ogowe
first of all to manage the station's agricultural land. At the same
time he proved to be such an excellent preacher and evangelist that he
became in time more missionary than planter.
[Sidenote: The problem of baptism]
I am not quite in agreement with the manner in which baptism is
practised here. The rule is that only adults are baptised, it being
felt that only those should be received into the Christian community
whose way of life has stood some amount of testing.[1] But do we
thereby build up a church on a broad and safe basis? Is it essential
that the communities shall be composed only of members of comparatively
blameless life? I think we must further consider the question of how
they are to make sure of a normal stream of new members. If we baptise
the children of Christian parents, we have growing up among us a number
of natives who have been in the Church and under its influence from
their childhood upwards. Certainly there will be some among them who
show themselves unworthy of the Christian name given them in their
childhood, but there {166} will be many others who, just because they
belong to the Church and find within it support in the dangers that
surround them, become and remain loyal members of it. Thus the
question of infant baptism, which so disturbed the Church in the early
centuries, comes up again to-day in the mission field as a live issue.
But if we wished to decide for infant baptism in the Ogowe district we
should have in opposition to us nearly all the native evangelists and
elders.
[1] Most Protestant missions practise infant baptism. There are some,
however, who object to it. On the Ogowe, infant baptism is not
customary, because the American missionaries, who founded the
Protestant missions here, did not introduce it.--A.S.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Catholic and Protestant missions]
The most difficult problem in the mission field arises from the fact
that evangelistic work has to be done under two banners, the Catholic
and the Protestant. How much grander would be the work undertaken in
the name of Jesus if this distinction did not exist, and there were
never two churches working in competition. On the Ogowe, indeed, the
missionaries of both bodies live in quite correct, sometimes in even
friendly, relations with one another, but that does not remove the
rivalry which confuses the native and hinders the spread of the Gospel.
I often visit the Catholic mission stations in my capacity of doctor
and so have been able to gather a fairly clear idea of the way in which
they conduct their evangelistic work and their education. As to
organisation, their missions seem to me to be better managed than ours
in several ways. If I had to distinguish between the aims which the
two keep before them, I should say the Protestant mission puts in the
first place the building up of Christian personalities, while the
Catholic has in mind before all else the establishment on solid
foundations of a church. The former object {167} is the higher one,
but it does not take sufficient account of realities. To make the work
of training permanently successful, a firmly established church, which
grows in a natural way with the increase in the number of Christian
families, is necessary. The church history of every period teaches
this. Is it not the weakness as well as the greatness of Protestantism
that it means personal religion too much and church too little?
For the work which the American missionaries began here and the French
have continued, I feel a hearty admiration. It has produced among the
natives human and Christian characters which would convince the most
decided opponents of missions as to what the teaching of Jesus can do
for primitive man. But now we ought to have the men and the means to
found more stations further inland, and so exert an educational
influence on the natives before they are reached by the white man's
trade and the dangers and problems which it brings with it for the
child of nature.
Will this be possible within a measurable time? What will be the lot
of mission work after the war? How will the ruined peoples of Europe
be able to contribute any longer the necessary means for the various
spiritual undertakings in the world? There is, also, this further
difficulty--that mission work can only flourish when it is to some
extent international; but the war has made anything international
impossible for a long time. And, lastly, missions throughout the world
will soon feel that, owing to the war, the white race has lost a great
deal of its spiritual authority over the coloured ones.
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