Difficulties in dealing with enquirers—Language—Argument—Parabolic interpretation—Distrust of evidence—Ignorance—Attachment to Islam as representing whole scheme of life—The problem of converts—Industrial missions—Employment by missionaries—Helpful points—Readiness for religious discussion—Quickness in grasping single points—Yezdi wants distinctive and systematic teaching—And a concrete example—Difficulties in accepting converts—Tests.

From what has been previously said it will be understood that from the missionary point of view there are, when dealing with the Persian, certain peculiar difficulties, and also certain things which tend to make missionary work more easy. We have to deal with a people whose fundamental notions of God and of His dealings with men are absolutely different from our own. I am not now so much speaking of those tenets on which the Mussulman loves to dwell, but rather of those tenets of which he does not think it[189] necessary to speak, which are not so much the objects of his faith, but rather indisputable facts which stand outside the sphere of faith. The difficulty is not so much that the Persian is repelled by our holding contrary ideas; he cannot believe that we hold them; and indeed it is a serious difficulty that in accepting the Persian language we often unconsciously admit the very Mussulman ideas which we intend to attack, and give to the Persian premises upon which he can build his whole argument. To give an illustration; a Persian enquirer will say to the missionary, “Of course you allow that Moses and David were prophets?” The missionary will probably admit this. Now if the Persian has used the most ordinary term for such prophets, that is, the term paighambar, he will naturally suppose that the missionary has admitted the following: first of all, that God sends from time to time men who are appointed by Him to reveal a new law of human action, which, so far as the moral commandments are concerned, has no necessary connection with previous revelation; secondly, that Moses and David gave each of them a sufficient direction to the peoples of their day to enable them to apprehend salvation. In all probability your Mussulman[190] friend will assume that you have granted even more; for instance, that Moses and David were both of them commissioned to invite everyone they came across to accept their religion; and I should be sorry to say that you would not have been supposed to have made other still more impossible admissions.

I do not think that it would be possible to avoid this difficulty by extreme scrupulosity in accepting terms. The result of such hesitation would probably be to puzzle and perplex the sincere enquirer who was genuinely anxious to find out what Christianity really meant. A more possible way out of the difficulty is to take the first opportunity of stating the difference between Mussulman and Christian belief upon these subjects, and I shall perhaps be pardoned for suggesting that such matters ought to be thoroughly thought out beforehand. There are a good many terms that we use in the present day, such as “perpetuity of the moral law,” and “continuity and growth of revelation,” which require very careful analysis before they can be presented to minds which have not been accustomed to the ideas they represent. I have previously compared the mind of the Yezdi to[191] a field-glass of very small range and high power, and have pointed out that the man possessing such a glass sees very clearly within a limited area. The Yezdi is utterly different from the European. The latter looks for a generally consistent system, and, knowing how difficult it is to get such a thing, he is content to find certain points where the agreement has not been thoroughly worked out. The typical Yezdi expects a much more clearly worked out conception of that small number of points which are at one time presented to his range of vision. But when he has turned his glasses in another direction the first set of ideas is blotted out, and the second group as a whole may be absolutely contradictory to the first, so long as it is consistent in itself. The result is that he is absolutely untouched by criticism which appears to the European crushing and final. Then the missionary gets to regard him as an imbecile, and presents to him an idea which he has not clearly thought out himself. The Persian turns the tables on him in a moment, and frequently the missionary is greatly surprised. The only way to meet this difficulty is both to prepare and select your arguments carefully, and, generally[192] speaking, you can never use with the ordinary Shiah Mussulman an argument that contains more than three steps. As to the difficulties of the language, some have been previously mentioned, and to these must be added the entire absence of words conveying certain important conceptions. Perhaps we are not quite so badly off as the missionary to the Esquimaux, who has to explain our Lord’s parables to people who know of hardly any domestic animals at all, and who have never seen a tree; nor is the Persian so intensely dull as the inhabitants of the Indian district where the mirzas declared that the meaning of the “field to bury strangers in” could not possibly be understood unless the strangers were described as dead; but to find a people who are sufficiently advanced to have an elaborate system of psychology, and yet have no term for conscience is a difficulty of almost a new kind. Between this sort of deficiency on the one hand, and on the other the impossibility of forming a sentence with an accurate meaning, or of making the meaning understood when it is formed, the missionary is sometimes inclined to wish the Persian language at the bottom of the sea.

[193]

A very similar difficulty is to be found in the absolute denial, especially by the Babis, of any limitations to the use of parabolic language. I can best explain this by instancing a very common Babi argument, by which it is attempted to minimise the extraordinary nature of Christ’s ministry, this being a preparatory step to the advancement of the claims of Behāu’llah. Christ on one occasion said, “Let the dead bury their dead.” In this text it is obvious that the word “dead” refers in one case rather to spiritual than to physical death. Consequently, they say, the miracles of raising the dead to life which are recounted in the Gospels are not to be taken as referring to physical death either. The obvious answer, that parabolic language, when used without any warning and under circumstances that make it certain to be interpreted as literal statement, is simply another name for falsehood, entirely fails to appeal to the Persian mind, even though it is pointed out in addition that, in the stories of the raising of the dead, local colour and special circumstances are added in such a way that the details of the stories do not admit of any intelligible allegoric interpretation.

In meeting this kind of position the difficulty[194] is occasionally increased by the Babi controversialist being aware that certain European objectors hold a very similar opinion about our Lord’s ministry. I think, however, that I am right in saying that no European critic has ever attempted to take up what seems to us the impossible position of accepting the absolute truth and inspiration of the New Testament, which the Babi fully admits, while at the same time trying to explain away the plain statements of the Gospels.

Another difficulty is that some, and those not always the least intelligent, of the Yezdi enquirers mistrust absolutely all reported evidence. This is after all only the logical result of life in a Persian town. To say that a certain point, even the most elementary, such as the fact of our Lord’s appearance in Palestine nineteen hundred years ago, is a matter of history, or is universally acknowledged, means to the Yezdi absolutely nothing. Sometimes, however, when you are able to explain that historical criticism is not an impossibility in Europe, this extreme scepticism partially subsides, particularly when you are able to show that the demand for direct evidence is not altogether impossible to satisfy.

[195]

Of course, too, there are difficulties in argument arising from the intense ignorance of the Yezdi, and more particularly from his extremely limited ideas of the size of the world. For instance, when he is repeating the story that the text of the Bible was changed in the time of Mohammed, the verses referring to the prophet being eliminated, it is almost impossible to explain the enormous difficulty that would have attended such a proceeding. This must of course be the case in other places, but I venture to think that the peculiar nature of the Persian desert towns makes this state of mind compatible with a greater degree of intelligence than one would have believed possible.

When everything has been said, the strong attachment felt by the Yezdi to Islam remains the greatest difficulty of all. It has been previously shown that Islam is much more than a creed, and much more than a set of commandments. Behind these things are a number of more or less connected ideas upon the relations of God and man, which have not only been accepted without question for generations, but are considered by the Mussulman to be axiomatic and impossible to call in question. Also around Islam[196] there has grown up a system of domestic and social life and of personal habit, which fills up every moment of the day. Habits of personal cleanliness, the system of cooking food, the fashion of dress, and the method of speech are all more or less connected with Islam. The same thing is true of the more normal amusements of the Yezdi. There is a certain amount of singing and playing which is in direct contravention of Mohammedan law; but the things which in the life of the people take the place of the concert-hall and of the theatre are the ruza-khani, which is the recitation of religious poems by the Mohammedan mulla, and the Muharram festival, which is entirely religious, being a miracle-play depicting the martyrdom of the Imam Husain. Even the more usual street shows, which are presented by story-telling dervishes, are the property of a class possessing a peculiar religious status. Under these circumstances who can wonder that to separate himself from Islam without leaving the country seems to the enquirer almost impossible? Further, he is inclined to say that, if it is possible, it is only to be done by joining himself to the life of the Ferangi household. It is very difficult to explain to the Mussulman that Christianity is not a politico-religious[197] system like Islam, but it is still more difficult to make him understand that a certain amount of the Islamic system can in any way remain lawful to him when he becomes a Christian.

The difficulty is really an enormous one. Men who would be ready to face death, if death was in the air, are not always ready to face boycott and petty persecution, their neighbours regarding them as unclean, and their new co-religionists, though not refusing to associate with them, having apparently no idea of providing them with a new home atmosphere. Those, too, who are dependent on their professions or trades feel that as Christians the friction with Islam will be so great that, even if they are not treated as infidels and at once turned adrift, their seeking of their livelihood will be a daily martyrdom, often extremely distressing to their newly-awakened religious feelings.

All of the obvious solutions of this problem are almost as difficult as the difficulty itself. First of all, it might be possible to create an industrial mission, and to provide new employment and new circumstances of life for the converts. Such a move would attract so much[198] attention in a town like Yezd that it might very possibly provoke a serious riot; and, even if it did not do this, it would involve an enormous financial loss. It would be impossible to get for such an enterprise the sympathy of the Persian authorities. The undertaking would be attacked by a continual succession of intrigues, and even without these disadvantages it is doubtful whether Europeans who had to deal with Persians in matters of trade without being primarily traders could possibly avoid bankruptcy after a very short period. Besides this if any such plan was started, the possibilities of the situation from the employé’s point of view would so appeal to the Persian that numbers would come and profess conversion in order to reap their share in the benefits. It cannot be too fully pointed out that in Yezd the man who is not in earnest, and who is willing to deny sincerity of motive, risks absolutely nothing, even though he may consent to public or semi-public ceremonies.

Another solution of the difficulty is to employ converts in the missionaries’ households, but after all this only provides for a certain number, and those only of certain classes. If the less satisfactory servants and employés were continually[199] ousted to make room for converts, a further very serious difficulty would be created, as there would be a number of people in the town doing their best to stir up trouble. The position is further complicated by the number of servants in a Persian household being very much fewer than the usual number in an Indian one. At the same time this solution of the difficulty, when it is possible, is certainly the best one. Converts who are employed by Christians are in South Persia a far from unsatisfactory class, particularly when they have given up more remunerative work. When the converts are left too much to fend for themselves the results are not always satisfactory, for even when they pull through, a feeling of not having been properly treated is sometimes left behind, which is not helpful to their Christian life. Consequently, I feel that, at the present stage, converts should, when possible, be drawn carefully into the organisation of the mission or the mission households, which would also have the effect of increasing the missionary staff. If it is due to our faith in Christ, as it most surely is, to send out every European man or woman who comes forward for mission work, and after prayerful and careful examination or[200] training still seems to be set apart for that work by God, surely in the Persian mission under present circumstances we might receive as fellow-workers those who after accepting the Gospel are thrown upon our hands by the same God. Later on it may become possible to connect the Persian mission stations with an industrial organisation at Bombay, or God may show some other similar way out of the apparent cul-de-sac. But the whole difficulty is so great, that perhaps it would be well to keep it in mind when we are determining the organisation of missions, for some methods of work tend to absorb natives of various classes, while others show no tendency to do so. In spite of the immense difficulties in the way of regular industrial missions, some Persian missionaries hold that they ought to be started, under the charge of thoroughly competent men sent out for the purpose. My personal opinion is that, if it was the main intention that such work should lead to the formation of an industrial community of converts earning their own living and paying their own expenses, there would probably be a great deal of disappointment about the results. If, however, such work was attempted it would have to be done in very close[201] conjunction with the strongest of the medical missions, and a responsibility for backing it up would have to rest with the doctors in charge. On the other hand, the establishment of industrial training classes under competent teachers, not necessarily European, would not be open to the same objections. It would really be a development of school work, and the primary object would be the assistance of the native population and the spreading of the Gospel message amongst them. Like other branches of mission work it would be worked at as small a loss as possible. But it would not be a settlement of the great difficulty, though we might reasonably expect it to prove a step towards such a settlement, for it would obviously put us in a position to consider further steps as occasion offered. After all, missionary work is the attempting of the impossible in dependence on the Almighty, and under such circumstances to attempt to look too far ahead is absurd.

In the face of these difficulties it is really wonderful that missionary work in Yezd should have gone so far forward. There are, of course, certain elements in Yezdi character and ideas that have proved a very great assistance to the[202] missionary. Yezdis are always ready to talk about religion, and they are thoroughly sociable. Then they are always interested in new ideas, and are quick to adapt themselves to circumstances. Further, the ordinary Shiah’s ideas about the Bible, that is, the Law of Moses and the Gospel, are somewhat uncertain. He generally regards it as the Word of God, for he does not consider that the alterations which he believes to have been made in the text are sufficient to rob the Book of its whole value. Altogether, his ideas are much less stereotyped than those of the Sunni, and it is often possible to convince him that the Book is correct throughout.

Then there is the extreme intelligence of the Shiah in grasping single points. Some missionaries work upon this, and also on his essential weakness, by teaching him Christian ideas, and not pointing out their contradiction to those contained in Islam until he has had time to grasp their value. I am inclined to think that although this method of teaching may be possible with people who do not come primarily as enquirers, it is not so suitable for the Yezdi who comes to you for discussion or teaching on[203] the Christian religion. If you want to gain a particular point with a Persian, for instance if you wish to dissuade him from some particular act of cruelty, do not use too long an argument, but put what you want to say and your reasons for saying it as shortly as possible. Even if he does not recognise your principle generally, he may very possibly accept it for the particular occasion, if your argument is a plain and short one; but when an enquirer after Christianity comes to you, he comes to you as to a follower of Christ. He does not want your advice about any particular part of his conduct; he wants to know why you follow Christ rather than Mohammed. As a matter of fact you have to teach him more, but the attempt to teach him less generally produces a strange state of bewilderment, in which the man is not very likely to obey any explicit direction you may have given him. The man wants, not necessarily controversy, but teaching of a controversial nature, opposed to Mohammedanism, that is to the doctrine of the supremacy of Mohammed’s religion, and he generally wants such teaching to be based on some kind of argument, and not on mere assertion. I think this last statement[204] is less true of the women. But in our early days at Yezd, when Dr White and I were both struggling with the Persian language, and all of the teaching had to be done by Armenian hospital assistants, who, although admirable fellows, had perhaps not wholly grasped exactly what was wanted, we had strong evidence of what I am now saying. For the moment I could speak the language and began to see something of the people, man after man would come to me, all with the same question, “We have heard a great deal; a great deal of Christian teaching, and a great deal about Jesus Christ; but Sahib, matlab chīst?” which may be translated, “What is the point of it all?”

From what has been written it will be obvious that one of the most essential points in dealing with Persian visitors is to understand thoroughly who are enquirers and who are not. Those who are not primarily enquirers may often be brought to Christianity almost as easily as those who come as searchers after truth, for when you get to know Persians, you can do much with them through personal influence, and indeed, when all has been written about ways and methods, the thing most used of God in Persia is the personality of[205] particular missionaries. Curiously enough, it is not always the popular personality by which the Persian is most affected in big matters, but he is enormously affected by what we call character. As to enquirers, it seems to me that no harm is done by being very careful whom we accept as such. I must own that I have not always worked on that principle, and there was a time when I was under the impression that to refuse to see a visitor, or to keep him waiting a quarter of an hour, would be to derogate from the importance of the message that I had to give, and when I would plunge without hesitation into the arguments for the Christian position with any one who asked me to do so. Possibly at the time it was the best thing to do, for it was not until I had pursued this plan that I gained any experience to enable me to discriminate; but I should certainly hesitate to advise anybody to follow my example. Unless a man professes some serious and practical reason for wanting to know why he ought to become a Christian it is not always advisable to tell him. Latterly, when I was approached on the subject of Christianity, I always replied by asking the enquirer’s reasons for searching, and also by asking of what he was[206] in search, and, if from his answer it was obvious that he was in search of something which could be found outside Christianity, I always told him so. You must remember that such a man naturally continues talking with you, generally on religious subjects, and indeed you have then the opportunity of explaining what Christianity really is, without the necessity of controversially proving its truth. He is also just as likely to return to your house as a man with whom you have entered into regular argument, and I am quite convinced that he is not less likely to appreciate Christianity at its true value than if you had allowed him to consider that any one was a proper applicant for admission into the Christian Church.

As a general rule, the thing which seems to me to succeed best with Yezdi enquirers is controversial teaching of a systematic kind. Pure controversy is sometimes necessary to remove particular objections to the Gospel message, but it has to be followed by regular instruction. On the other hand, instruction that does not bring out very clearly the contrast between Islam and Christianity is liable not to be understood. Persian enquirers seem as a rule to want help in understanding[207] the meaning of Scripture. Several Persian converts have been brought in through the instrumentality of the Bible without the help of the missionary; but such cases are not common.

Then one of the most important points that the missionary has to bear in mind is that the Persian expects a concrete example of the Christian life. He is much more able to understand what he sees than what he simply reads, and he is anxious to know how the whole scheme works out, for he wishes to understand how much of the practical teaching of Christianity is really intended for everyday use. He is aware that in his own religion a good deal can be explained away by the mulla, and also that rather different conduct is expected from the clerical and non-clerical classes respectively. It is true that in Islam this difference is not so great as one would expect, but the Mussulman clerics as a class are certainly more particular than the laity about prayers, fasts, and attendance at the mosques. When a Persian sees the Christian colony entirely at variance with the missionary households as to religious customs and ideas, he naturally comes to the conclusion that as a Christian layman he[208] will have to conform much more to the practice of the laity than to the practice of the clerical class, under which heading he will include all missionaries. For this reason it seems to me that it is lamentable for missionaries, clerical or otherwise, to separate themselves too much from the social life of the European colony. Work in such towns as Yezd ought to be primarily church extension, and when both missionaries and other Europeans realise this fact, and do their best to show the native that Christ is a real force in the concrete European life of the present day, the hopefulness of mission prospects becomes increased a thousandfold. But the task before the missionary is a rather more complex one, for his duty is not only to present Christ as a living force in his everyday life, but he ought also to try and avoid all conduct which he learns by experience will seem to the native not to tally with the teaching of Scripture. In other words, he must be ready to give up lawful things which he is unable to justify to those whom he is striving to teach. Such a determination will demand not only strength of purpose, but also careful and prayerful Bible study; but unless the determination is made, the work will inevitably suffer.

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One unusually intelligent Behāī, who, I am glad to say, afterwards became a Christian, once brought forward an objection to Christianity, which I think is worth closely noting. He said, “You point to the comparative prosperity of Europe as an evidence of the truth of Christianity. I, who have been in India, do not doubt that Europeans have accomplished something. But it seems to me that what has been done has been done by the State organisation, which rests upon the law of retaliation, and is therefore in direct opposition to the law of Christ. Consequently these successes prove not the truth of Christianity, but rather the power of work done on exactly opposite principles.” My answer, which was accepted, was to point out that although Christ in the Sermon on the Mount showed that the principle of retaliation was not to govern the actions of individual Christians, Christ’s religion both as expounded by Himself before Pilate, and as presented by His apostles in the Epistles, recognises the power of the force-using governor as that of God’s minister. I also pointed out that the best European State organisations had only been made possible by the Church. However, the objection was certainly one which a[210] serious enquirer might be pardoned for advancing, and it is interesting as showing the trend of the Persian’s mind when he comes into contact with European customs and Christian ideas.

There remain several difficulties, connected rather with the acceptance of converts than with the making of them. The Persian is exceedingly impulsive, and a great many enquirers who are really in earnest ask to be baptized without realising all that it will mean. This, I suppose, is a difficulty one finds everywhere. A difficulty more peculiar to Persia has already been mentioned in a previous chapter, namely, the feeling that two motives are better than one, and that the desire for earthly as well as spiritual gain only makes a man a more earnest applicant. In Yezd it is impossible to treat people who have this feeling as radically unsound, but of course they have to be taught that it is impossible to become a Christian from the two points of view, and that if they intend to make Christianity pay from the earthly point of view, they will lose the spiritual benefit. The question may perhaps be asked, how is it that in a Mohammedan country there can be supposed to be any temporal advantage in becoming a Christian? The answer[211] to this is that the Yezdi Persian is accustomed not so much to religious as to politico-religious systems: so he regards the whole European colony with their native servants, Parsi and Mussulman, as all belonging to Christianity and under the protection of the Christian authorities, and this idea is very largely kept up by the servants themselves. Servants in a Christian household will almost invariably join in any form of Christian worship, and it would be impossible to explain to them that they did not to some extent participate in the spiritual advantages of Christianity. They recognise, however, a distinct difference between taking service and accepting baptism. Probably in their heart of hearts they believe that taking service is temporary, and accepting baptism permanent. Amongst people who are accustomed to a view of the household largely corresponding to the patriarchal view, such notions cannot be altogether eradicated. So enquirers, when they first ask for baptism, do not necessarily see the enormous danger, but only realise that they will be brought into close touch with a community that seems to them to include other natives who wear the same dress as themselves. Of course when the enquirers are[212] junior members of strict Mussulman households, or in other equally unfavourable circumstances, they realise that their peril will be extreme; but heads of households sometimes expect much less danger. Then again, the Mussulman is accustomed to secret religions, for taqiya, the denial of faith in times of danger, has always been considered lawful by Shiahs, and it is used by the Babis. Although the enquirer learns at a very early date that such conduct is regarded by the Christian as sin, it takes him some time to realise the exact degree to which his Christianity is likely to be public. Lastly, although he may be told that converts are not under consular protection, in a country where law means so little and custom so much he is not likely to understand how real are the boundaries of treaty rights. This will perhaps give some idea of the amount of misapprehension, both as to the meaning of Christianity and also as to the danger of accepting it, which may possibly exist after a considerable amount of talk and enquiry; nor would the dangers of embracing Christianity be made altogether obvious by a single riot or martyrdom; for the whole operation of Persian law, or want of law, is irregular and spasmodic, and in a town[213] like Yezd things which are foolhardy in January are often attended with no more than ordinary risk in June.

Under these circumstances the question of the admission of professing converts to baptism must necessarily be extremely difficult. In towns where the mission work is in a pioneering stage it has to be primarily settled by the European missionary; and not until the difficulty has been by him sufficiently solved to admit of the foundation of a church, can much of this burden be placed upon other shoulders. Sometimes he may have the good fortune to have among his earlier converts a wholly trustworthy man, who, from his greater experience of native character and knowledge of what is going on in the town, can advise and counsel him, but even then the main responsibility must rest with the European. The difficulty is greatly enhanced by the fact that the missionary in Persia does not really live amongst the people, and that the clerical missionary usually sees enquirers only in his own house. Under these circumstances it is perhaps well not to apply too many tests, for it is not easy to get a test which is really sound. One test which is sometimes advocated is the practice of keeping the catechumen waiting for[214] a long period; but the result of this is frequently to deter those who are weakly in earnest, whereas a Persian who has a worldly end to serve is capable of extraordinary patience. It is sometimes urged that an unsound convert brings the whole band of native Christians and enquirers into extreme danger; but I am inclined to think that, in the circumstances of our pioneer missions as they at present exist, a totally unsound catechumen may do almost as much harm as even an unsound convert. It is hard to avoid the conclusion that the only way to deal with the situation is to baptize all persons who after full instruction, not too hurriedly given, profess conversion and demand baptism, and even after baptism to observe a certain degree of caution towards the newly baptized. If it is absolutely proved that such converts are behaving in a manner that is not only weak but actively hostile towards Christ’s cause, they must be excommunicated; but the most necessary point of all is that as much attention should be paid to the instruction of converts as to the instruction of catechumens. It is of course impossible to expect that all points of character should be absolutely changed after baptism, and nobody ought to be cut loose from[215] the Church in a place like Yezd, unless he is actively hostile; and, even when actual hostility has been proved, an opportunity ought to be given for the man’s return.

As to the advisability of giving converts material help, a great deal may be said against it in theory, but in practice it is at times absolutely necessary. After all, it is impossible to avoid mistakes, and the attempt to avoid all mistakes in detail is only too likely to lead to the more general one of entirely failing to present Christ in any form whatsoever.

The conclusions which have been stated in this chapter are not intended to be taken as the fully thought out summing up of an extremely complex and difficult problem. They are the result of rather less than six years’ experience of the mission-field. But just as there is a value in first impressions of country, so there is a value in first impressions of difficulties in work. At five and a half years first impressions of country have passed away, and consequently the contents of the earlier chapters of this book, which deal with country and surroundings, can hardly be so characterised; but at this period the difficulties of mission work are only just beginning to spread[216] themselves out before one’s eyes. So when we pass from country to character, from character to opportunity, and from opportunity to suggestion, we pass from subjects with which it is comparatively easy to become familiar to subjects which need life-long and careful study. I have tried in writing this chapter to eliminate from the style that consciousness of uncertainty which is frequently so irritating to the reader; but in doing this I should explain that I am fully conscious of the superficial nature of much that I have written. At the same time, the view that I have gained of mission work in Yezd is a full one compared with that which is possible for people at a distance, and for that reason it may be considered worth stating.