The Gist of Japan: The Islands, Their People, and Missions

by R. B. Peery

How long can the missionary safely work in Japan before taking his first furlough? That will depend upon the nature of the man himself, and the kind of mission work in which he is engaged. The average length of time spent here by the missionaries before the first furlough is about seven years. There are no men more competent to pass judgment upon this matter than Drs. Berry and Taylor, who have spent the better part of their lives here, in the service of the American Board, and who are thoroughly acquainted with the conditions that surround us. Dr. Berry says: "I do not hesitate to affirm that the 'ten-year-or-longer rule,' still adhered to by some missionary societies, and by many missionaries as well, is too long for the first term.... I indorse what in substance has been suggested by my friend Dr. McDonald, viz., that the time of service on the field prior to the first furlough be seven years, and that prior to subsequent furloughs be ten years; this plan to be modified by health, existing conditions of work, home finances, and by individual preferences." Dr. Taylor says: "My observations have led me to the conclusion that the first furlough ought to be taken at the close of the fifth or sixth year, and after that once every eight or ten years."

We have yet to look at the trials and sorrows, the encouragements and joys, of the missionary. We have already looked into the missionary's home; let us now endeavor to look into his heart. If the former is his sanctum, this is his sanctum sanctorum; and I trust my missionary brethren will pardon me for exposing it to the public view.

We will pass by all physical hardships, such as climate, improper food, poor houses, etc. Although these are often greater hardships than the people at home know, they are but "light afflictions" to the missionary. His real trials lie in an entirely different sphere.

The greatest hardship the missionary has to bear is his loneliness and isolation. Separated almost entirely from his own race, he is deprived of all those social joys that are so dear to him. The thought of his kinsmen and friends is ever in his mind, but alas! they are so far away. He must go on year after year living among a people from whom an impassable gulf separates him, leading the same lonely life. For the first year or two he rather enjoys the quiet and privacy, but by and by it becomes almost unendurable. Dr. Edward Lawrence has correctly styled the missionary "an exile." We cannot do better than quote his words: "Very many of the missionary's heaviest burdens are summed up in the one word whose height and breadth and length and depth none knows so well as he—that word 'exile.' It is not merely a physical exile from home and country and all their interests; it is not only an intellectual exile from all that would feed and stimulate the mind; it is yet more—a spiritual exile from the guidance, the instruction, the correction, from the support, the fellowship, the communion of the saints and the church at home. It is an exile as when a man is lowered with a candle into foul places, where the noxious gases threaten to put out his light, yet he must explore it all and find some way to drain off the refuse and let in the sweet air and sun to do their own cleansing work.... The missionary is not only torn away from those social bonds that sustain, or even almost compose, our mental, moral, and spiritual life, but he is forced into closest relations with heathenism, whose evils he abhors, whose power and fascinations, too, he dreads. And when at last he can save his own children only by being bereft of them, he feels himself an exile indeed."

The missionary's life is full of disappointments. Men for whom he has labored and prayed it may be for years, and in whom he has placed implicit confidence, will often bitterly disappoint him in their Christian life. Boys who have been educated on his charity, who are what they are solely by his help, will frequently be guilty of base ingratitude, and, worse yet, will repudiate his teachings. The native church not having generations of Christian ancestry behind it, and not being in a Christian environment, is often, it may be unwittingly, guilty of heathen practices that sorely try the heart of the missionary. The struggle between the new life and the old heathenism is still seen in the church-members and even in the native ministry. Each missionary, if he would be well and cheerful in his work, must learn to cast all burdens of such a character on the Lord, and not be oppressed by them.

One of the greatest trials some of us have to bear is that we must live in an environment so unconducive to personal growth and development There is a great deal of ambition lurking about us still, and we do not like to see our own development cut short because of an unfavorable environment, while our friends and classmates at home, who were no more than our equals in former days, far surpass us in intellectual development and in influence and power. Perhaps a missionary should be above such thoughts and should be perfectly content with a life of obscurity and partial development; but missionaries are still men, and to many an ambitious one the limits placed upon his personal development are very irksome.

But why are the conditions unfavorable to high personal development? Because those stimulants to prolonged, vigorous effort that exist in the West are lacking. The stimulus of competition, the contact of thinking minds, so necessary to enlist the full exercise of a man's powers, are largely wanting. One is shut up to his own thoughts and to those he gets from books, and his development, in so far as it does proceed, is very apt to be one-sided. This is the reason why so many missionaries are narrow, unable to see a subject in all its relations and to give due importance to each.

The work of the missionary from beginning to end is one of self-sacrifice and self-effacement. There is no future for him in the councils of the native church. As the work grows and extends he must gradually take a back seat. As the native ministry develops, the foreign minister is less and less needed, and must gradually withdraw.

Again, the home land, father and mother, brothers and sisters, friends and companions, are just as dear to the missionary as to any one else. Yet it seems inevitable that he will gradually grow away from them and be forgotten by them. Prolonged absence brings forgetfulness; diverse labors and interests put people out of sympathy with one another. When the new missionary first comes out to his field, communication between him and friends is frequent. Letters pass regularly, little remembrances are sent from time to time, and he is still in touch with his friends at home. But by and by a change comes. After one or two years exchange of presents and remembrances ceases; gradually the letters cease also, and none come except those from his immediate family. Even these become less and less frequent. The arrival of the mails, which at first was looked forward to with so much joy, is now scarcely noted. An old American gentleman who has spent some forty years in the East tells me that he now receives from the home land not more than two or three letters per year. After a few years of residence here one feels that he is largely out of touch with the life of the West, and that he is forgotten, by home and friends.

It seems to me that churches and friends can do much toward preventing this, and toward brightening the lives of their missionaries, if they will. Let pastors and friends throughout the church take special pains to write interesting personal letters to the missionary. It will do him good just to be remembered in this way. It is natural that the same kindness, attention, and love that are shown to the home pastor should not be shown to the missionary, because he is so far away and the strong personal element is wanting. But if the churches would make an effort to share their kindness and beneficence between the home pastor and the foreign one it would be highly appreciated by the latter.