4. Roman Catholic Mission: experiments in the East
Roman Catholic Mission: experiments in the East 1. The Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith
The huge missionary growth of Roman Catholicism beyond Europe that had begun during the 16th century continued in our period. The century of the Reformation and Catholic Counter-Reformation had seen Roman
Catholic expansion into the Americas, the Philippines, India, Malaysia, Malaku (the Moluccas), and Japan. Catholic missionaries in our period consolidated and extended this work.
The massive extension of Roman Catholic influence outside Europe in the 16th century had largely taken place in the wake of Spanish and Portuguese empire-building. In the early 17th century, the papacy finally decided that Catholic mission should be centrally planned. Pope Gregory
XV (1621–3) took the momentous step. He was the first Jesuit-trained pope; Jesuits had been at the forefront of Catholic mission in the East, and had become active in South America from 1609. Gregory established in 1622 the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, a body of 13 cardinals and two bishops entrusted with the supervision of Catholic world mission. From its Latin name, the body was usually known simply as "the Propaganda".13 In one sense, this was the papacy striking a blow against the Catholic secular rulers of Europe. The pope, not any mere king or emperor, was responsible for directing missionary activity. Naturally this created friction between the papacy and the Catholic kings, since the latter saw the Propaganda as papal interference in their colonial enterprises. But the papacy would not back down, and Gregory appointed a brilliantly effective first secretary of the Propaganda, Francesco Ingoli (1578–1649).
Ingoli is better known for his controversy with the trailblazing scientist Galileo, in which Ingoli disputed the evidence for the Copernican theory of a sun-centred solar system. But it was as secretary to the Propaganda that Ingoli found his true talent; his pioneering work has earned him a reputation as one of the greatest missionary directors in Christian history. Ingoli amassed information about every aspect of the various mission fields as the basis for discussion and decision-making. His guidelines for Catholic mission were to be decisive for the future: Christianity must be uncoupled
from the colonial power of Spain and Portugal; the pope must create many more new bishops to act as spiritual guardians of newly evangelized areas and peoples, to be a living link between new churches and the pope, and to protect those churches from secular, colonial control; indigenous priests must be trained as swiftly as possible. The plan for bishops ran into trouble with the Spanish and Portuguese monarchies, which (rightly) claimed that they alone had the legal authority to create new bishoprics in their colonial territories. But Pope Urban VIII (1623–44) sidestepped the problem by creating "vicars apostolic" instead of bishops for the mission field. They were bishops in all but name, representing the pope and accountable only to him. The kings of Spain and Portugal fumed with impotent rage.
In the period 1658–63, the Propaganda set up the Society of Foreign Missions of Paris. The Society's seminary soon became the foremost training centre for Catholic missionaries. This meant that France once again found itself at the heart of Catholic life, especially with the Spanish and Portuguese empires now sinking into decline, and the French empire flourishing.14
The most celebrated aspects of Catholic mission in our period are found in the life and work of Robert de Nobili in India, and the Chinese Rites controversy that dragged on from the 1630s to 1715.
2. Robert de Nobili Robert de Nobili (1577–1656) is one of the most famous Catholic missionaries of the 17th century, and indeed one of the most celebrated missionaries of all the Christian centuries. Born to a wealthy Italian family at Montepulciano, Tuscany, a nephew of the distinguished Cardinal
Bellarmine, he joined the Jesuits in 1596, and after his training was sent to India, arriving in 1605. Here he mastered the Tamil language within months; his superiors then stationed him in the city of Madurai, part of the Nayak kingdom in Tamil-speaking southern India. Madurai was effectively the capital city of Tamil culture, and a Portuguese Jesuit mission was already at work here, although without much success. Nobili disagreed deeply with the methods the mission was using; they converted native
Tamils not only to Catholic Christianity, but also to Portuguese national customs—converts were taught to act, dress, and live as Portuguese. This provoked fierce contempt from the higher Indian castes (the Brahmins) of Madurai. Was their ancient and rich native culture so shallow, or even wicked, that it had to be disowned by anyone embracing this new religion?
Nobili resolved that the message of Christ had to be disentangled from the trappings of European culture. He would become an Indian to win
Indians. His particular desire was to gain converts from the Brahmin caste —to reach Indian society through its natural leaders. So he immersed himself in Brahmin culture, learned their "classical" form of Tamil (later learning Telegu and Sanskrit too), studied their scriptures (the Vedas), and virtually turned himself into a Christian Brahmin. He now went about with the shaven head and robe of a sannyasi (an Indian holy man), eating a strict vegetarian Brahmin diet, and presenting himself, not as a representative of any European belief or way of life, but as a teacher of universal truth from the God of all peoples. The higher castes were astounded and impressed by his knowledge of their language and scriptures, and respected his holiness
—they could understand Christian sanctity when it appeared in Indian garb.
He gave lectures on Christian theology, illustrating his points at every turn from classical Indian literature.
By 1609, Nobili had won some 63 converts from the higher castes, including some Brahmins. However, he now came under fierce attack both from native Indians and his Catholic superiors. Indians opposed to his work
stated publicly that Nobili was Portuguese, and that in accepting his religion his converts had defiled themselves by embracing a Portuguese way of life.
Nobili defended himself by asserting (truthfully) that he was not Portuguese but Italian, from a "high caste" Italian family. The controversy was murky; the word "Portuguese" had different meanings for different people. Indians referred to all Europeans as Portuguese, owing to the predominance of Portugal's overseas empire in India—most Europeans encountered by Indians were in fact Portuguese. Nobili's insistence that he was Italian, not Portuguese, was a possibly over-subtle way of making a valid point, namely, that neither he nor his religion had any necessary connection with the Europeans, whether merchants or priests, currently present in India, or their detested ways.
Nobili also faced serious criticism from his ecclesiastical superior, Archbishop Cristovao of Goa,16 and from the papacy. His critics in the Church said that he was throwing a Christian veneer over Hindu superstitions, and creating his own little church of converts separate from the Catholic Church. Nobili answered these charges in his important treatise of 1610, A Reply to the Objections Raised against the Method Used in the New Mission of Mandurai for the Conversion of Gentiles to Christ. Pope
Gregory XV referred the matter to a tribunal, headed by Archbishop Peter Lombard of Armagh;17 Lombard sifted through the documents of accusation and defence, and finally exonerated Nobili.
This decision of 1623 enabled Nobili to continue his work, which now reached beyond Madurai into Trinchonopoly and Salem, and began gaining converts from lower castes as well as Brahmins (although he kept the two groups of converts separate, with different missionary co-workers for each, as a concession to the host culture). By the time Nobili died, sick and blind, in the city of Myalapore, near Madras, he had acquired a permanent place in Christian missionary history for his radically experimental thinking and practice. He left behind a literary legacy too: a Tamil catechism, and a number of Tamil theological treatises. These brought him the nickname "the father of Tamil prose" (poetry rather than prose had previously been the Tamil vehicle for these religious topics). He also left a body of Tamil hymns.
3. The Chinese Rites controversy If Nobili's methods proved contentious in India, it was nothing compared to the controversy that erupted over Jesuit missionary practice in China.
Francis Xavier had reached the Chinese island of Shangchuan, where he died in 1552.18 Others followed, and soon there was a Jesuit mission in mainland China, once again (as in India) under Portuguese protection—
Portugal had established a trading post at Macao, beside the Canton River, in 1557.19
The first great Catholic missionary in China was the Italian Jesuit Matteo Ricci (1552–1610). Born in the city of Macerata, his studies at the Jesuit college in Rome included mathematics and astronomy, which would serve him well in China. His first missionary posting was in Portuguese India in 1578, but he was then sent to the Portuguese trading centre at Macao in 1582. For the next 20 years he travelled about, immersing himself in the Chinese language and culture. One of the fruits of this immersion was a Portuguese-Chinese dictionary, produced jointly with another Jesuit missionary, Michele Ruggieri (1543–1607), probably between 1583 and 1588. This was the first ever dictionary of Chinese for any European language. Ricci also translated into Latin the "Four Books" of Confucianism, the basis of all Chinese scholarship at that period. This, together with his general work on principles for translating Chinese into European languages, has earned Ricci the title "founder of Western
Sinology".20
Finally, in 1601, Ricci managed to gain access to Peking or Beijing, the capital city of the Chinese Empire.21 The Emperor Wanli (1572–1620) of the Ming dynasty invited Ricci to his capital largely on the strength of the Jesuit's astronomical skill; Ricci's ability to predict solar eclipses was highly valued in Chinese culture, since eclipses were considered heavenly signs of coming events on earth. Ricci was the first Westerner to be allowed into Beijing; the Chinese regarded theirs as the only true civilisation in the world, and despised foreigners, so that Ricci found himself in a unique position. He had proved that a foreigner could be as learned as the Chinese, and could treat their culture with respect and sympathy. The emperor's favour enabled Ricci to remain in Beijing until his death in 1610. He established a Catholic congregation in the city, with converts from the
highest and most educated classes; they worshiped in the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception—the building dates from 1605.
Ricci's study of Confucianism, the prevalent Chinese worldview, led him to some controversial conclusions. One was about translation. How should the concept "God" be expressed in Chinese? The term T'ien Chu ("lord of heaven") was available, and Ricci used it in a Chinese catechism. More contentious was his use of two other words, Shangi-Ti ("sovereign lord") and T'ien ("heaven"). These Confucian terms were generally taken to refer to an impersonal reality (something like "ultimate being"), but Ricci argued that in their original usage they had described a personal God. He also maintained that the term Sheng meant "worthy of reverence" rather than
"holy" (as it was often understood). It was therefore permissible for Confucianists who embraced Christianity to continue to call Confucius sheng.
More problematic were the ceremonies of veneration that Confucianism required Chinese families to pay to their ancestors, e.g. bowing to a tablet on which one's ancestors' names were written. Was this Pagan idolatry? Or did it lack religious dimensions? Was it really like (say) a Western European family gathering on a dead grandparent's birthday to recite poems and sing songs in celebration of his or her memory? Ricci argued that Confucian ancestor-veneration was essentially about honouring the family, not worshiping gods or spirits. So he allowed his converts to carry on venerating their ancestors. He certainly knew that any break with this custom would be seen by Confucianists as a vile dishonouring of the family
—and honouring the family lay at the heart of Chinese culture. Ricci's methods were adopted by the Jesuit missionaries. The policy undoubtedly led to remarkable success in making Christianity accessible to Confucianists. Reliable statistics are hard to obtain, but it does seem that by the closing decades of the 17th century there were many thousands of Chinese Christians from a high-class Confucian background.
At first the Jesuit methods received support from the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith back in Rome. In 1659 it issued a famous statement to its missionaries in the Far East:
Do not see it as your task, and do not pressurize the peoples, to change their manners, their customs, and their ways, unless they are obviously contrary to religion and wholesome morality.
What could be more ridiculous than to transplant France, Spain, Italy, or some other European country into China? Do not take all that to them; take only the faith, which does not deride or uproot the manners and customs of any people, assuming of course that they are not actually
evil, but rather wishes to see them preserved intact. It is human nature to love and cherish above everything else one's own country and its ways. Consequently there is no greater cause for alienation and hatred than when someone attacks local customs, particularly when these customs have a long and venerable history. This is more especially the case, when an attempt is made to bring in the customs of some other people to replace the customs that have been abolished. Do not make odious contrasts between native and European customs; do everything possible to adapt yourselves to their customs.
The Chinese Emperor Kangxi or Kang Hsi (1661–1722) was so impressed by the respectful attitude of the Jesuits to Chinese culture, and their contributions to it (e.g. as linguistic experts and interpreters) that he issued an edict of toleration in 1692:
The Europeans are very quiet; they stir up no disturbances in the provinces, they injure no one, they commit no crimes, and their teaching shares no part of what is taught by the false sects in the empire, nor does it have any tendency to stir up sedition… We decree therefore that all temples dedicated to the Lord of heaven, wherever they may be found, should be preserved, and that permission is given to all who would worship this God to enter these temples, offer Him incense, and perform the rites practised by the Christians according to their ancient custom.
Henceforth let no one offer them any opposition.
There were, however, problems brewing for the Jesuits in China. They were not the only Catholic religious order working there; Dominicans and Franciscans were now at work among the peasant peoples of the Chinese coast. The new missionaries, who had often worked in the Spanish
Philippines, brought a completely different approach to evangelism and conversion. They insisted that converts must break with their culture—in effect, adopt the manners and customs of their European preachers. This was their policy in the Philippines, and they saw no reason to pursue a different path in China. When they became fully conscious of the level of Jesuit concession toward Confucian customs, they sent a fierce denunciation to Rome, accusing the Jesuits of selling out the Gospel to Paganism.
Pope Clement XI (1700–21) was convinced by this complaint, and in 1705 sent a papal ambassador to Emperor Kangxi, informing him that Chinese Christians were no longer allowed to observe the disputed
Confucian customs. Kangxi was so offended that he banished the ambassador from Beijing. Clement confirmed his decision more authoritatively in 1715 with a papal bull, Ex illa die. This time Kangxi's outrage knew no bounds; he banished all Christian missionaries from China. The imperial decree of 1721 said:
Having read this proclamation, I must conclude that the Westerners are utterly petty-minded.
One cannot reason with them; they do not understand the bigger issues as we in China understand them. There is not even one Westerner who has mastered Chinese literature, and their comments are often unbelievable and absurd. If this proclamation is anything to go by, their religion is just the same as the other tiny, intolerant sects of Buddhists or Taoists. Never have I laid eyes on a document that had so much nonsense in it. Henceforth, in order to avoid further trouble, no Westerners should be allowed to preach in China.
It was not only the Jesuit policy in China that was suppressed. The same policy pioneered by Robert de Nobili in India suffered the same fate. Pope
Benedict XIV (1740–58) condemned the Jesuit approach in both China and India in the papal bull Ex quo singulari in 1742. In practice it dealt a staggering wound to the work of Catholic mission in the Far East. The Catholic cause in China never really recovered.
The Chinese rites controversy transcends its 18th century Catholic limits to touch on two issues that arise again and again in the area of cross-cultural mission. The first is "contextualisation": to what extent can Christian missionaries be "all things to all men" (1 Corinthians 9:22) without compromising the gospel itself? The second is that the misunderstandings that often arise between workers on the field and committees back home. If that is so today, in our age of rapid communication, how much more was it likely back in Nobili and Ricci's era when personal contact was so difficult?