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

by R. B. Peery

This extreme patriotism operates in several ways to hinder the progress of Christianity. It prevents the ready acceptance of the new religion. There are a great many so ignorant and inconsistent as to hate Christianity just because it is of foreign origin, thinking that nothing good can originate outside of Japan. Such people adhere to the native religion, in spite of its inferiority, simply because they think that to do so is patriotic. But there is a much larger and more influential class that is led to antagonize Christianity from patriotic motives other than this. They hold that a belief in the native religions is necessary to preserve their darling patriotic spirit, and that the adoption of any foreign religion would gradually destroy all patriotism and loyalty. Christianity is not national, but cosmopolitan. It teaches the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man, both of which great ideas are repugnant to most Japanese, because they do not harmonize with their ideas of the divine origin of the imperial family, and their national superiority to the other races of the world. They want a religion which exalts Japan above everything and inculcates patriotism and loyalty to her alone.

But the most hurtful influence of this extreme nationalism is felt within the pale of the church herself. Actuated by it, many of the native Christians, both clerical and lay, want to do away with everything foreign in connection with the churches. The more strictly national they can make their work the better satisfied are they. Not only do they antagonize the missionary and try to push him off the field, but they also antagonize foreign theology, and want to build up a native system with no foreign taint. The result is great friction between the native and foreign workers, strained relations, and in many instances open antagonism. This want of cordiality and harmony, for which the national feeling is largely responsible, is very hurtful to the best interests of our work.

But the desire for a purely native theology, which this strong, benighted patriotism begets, is even more hurtful than its sowing seeds of discord among the workers. Many of the leading native ministers and laymen say that it is folly for their churches to perpetuate the theological divisions and creeds of the West, and they propose to develop a theology peculiarly their own. Now Christianity cannot be kept pure and sound without paying due regard to its historical development; and the Japanese, in cutting loose from this, have already run into heresy. The danger is that a Christianity may be developed which is lacking in all that is distinctively Christian, and which will be harder to overcome than the old heathenism.

(2) Another hindrance which has operated with great power throughout the whole history of Protestant missions in Japan is the past record of Christianity. In a former chapter upon the "First Introduction of Christianity" I have told how Christianity was first introduced, how it grew to magnificent proportions, and how finally it was crushed by the secular arm. The fact that the government once felt constrained to extirpate Christianity, at whatever cost, and especially the fact that the Christians dared oppose the government, have brought our religion into disrepute. Since, according to native morality, whatever government does is right and whatever government opposes is wrong, the mere fact of this opposition on the part of the government is enough to condemn Christianity in the eyes of many. Then the fact that the Christians at last rebelled gives color to the idea already formed that Christianity is disloyal to Japan. That idea prevails widely, and in many quarters Christians are regarded with suspicion.

A memory of the past bitter persecutions and of the hated rebellion still lingers. The old people talk of them around the hibachi, as they sip their tea and smoke their pipes; the young read of them in the histories, and thus their memory is kept alive. Many are still living who saw and read the rigid prohibitions of Christianity on the sign-boards over all the country, and they cannot forget them. There are not a few people in the empire who to this day have hardly learned that the changed attitude of the government toward Christianity is more than outward; and these still regard the foreign faith as the chief of all evils. It is really pathetic sometimes to hear them talk of it. There was an old man living near a Christian chapel not far from here, who one day was complaining of his woes and wishing to die. He said it had been a bad year, and none of his crops had done well, two of his children had died, his country had been insulted by a foreign power, and, to cap the climax, Christianity had come and taken up its abode next door to him. This last evil was too much, and he wanted to die. He still regarded our faith as the worst of evils. I once gave a few tracts to some old men in a mountain village near Saga, and they remarked that they remembered the time when it would have meant certain death to be seen with one of those little books.

(3) The character of the education prevalent in Japan to-day is also antagonistic to Christianity. The Japanese are a studious race and are capable of high mental development. The country is so well supplied with schools—nearly all of them government institutions—that no one is too poor to receive some education. There is, on the part of the school authorities, no open antagonism to Christianity as such. According to the regulations, no one religion is to be favored more than another in the schools, and complete religious liberty is to be allowed. But the general tenor of the education given is unchristian—an exaltation of reason above faith, of science above religion. Especially is the tendency of the higher education against any form of religion. The educators of Japan are training a nation of atheists and agnostics. The scientific schools of the West that have no room for religion are studied earnestly and copied by educated Japan. In philosophy Herbert Spencer and his school have been acknowledged masters. Indeed, it never seems to have occurred to the minds of thinking Japanese that there are systems of philosophy other than the materialistic. All religious sentiment is crushed in the schools, other things being substituted. Science, learning, is thought to be all that is necessary, and religion is left for old women and children. Men who still believe in religion are thought superstitious and uneducated, and are regarded with a sort of lordly contempt. In a conversation some time ago with a graduate of the Imperial University I was dogmatically told that Christianity was acknowledged to be absurd by all thinking men everywhere, that all religions are only for the infancy of the race, and that full-grown men can dispense with them. This man's views are the usual product of the higher education, of Japan to-day. Hence it happens that few students of the higher schools are Christian, and frequently men go there with Christian sentiments, only to lose them before they leave.

(4) The old religions of Japan strongly oppose the march of Christianity. Men often speak as though the old heathen faiths had lost their power and were no longer really believed. Their power is on the wane, but they lack much of being dead. They still possess enough vitality strongly to oppose the evangelization of this land. The old Shinto faith, having the decided advantage of national origin, and fitting in exactly with Japanese ideas of their relative national importance and the nature of their emperor, is a strong opposing influence. Buddhism still possesses a strong hold upon the masses of the people. It has the recommendation of age, has played a prominent part in the national history, and is dear to the hearts of the people. It occupies a decided vantage-ground from which it opposes us and our work. To some in the West it seems almost incredible that these people should really believe and trust in these faiths. And yet be assured that they do believe and trust in them. There are about the same sincerity, the same confidence, and the same faith placed in Buddhism by its adherents as are placed in Christianity by its. The religious cravings and instincts of the people are, on the whole, satisfied by their native religions.

The opposition of Buddhism to Christianity does not consist solely in misrepresentation, nor is it founded on ignorance, but is an intelligent opposition. Some of the Buddhist priests study carefully our language for the purpose of reading our theology and informing themselves as to our faith. It is said that one of the very best collections of books of Christian evidences and apologetics to be found in all Japan is in the Buddhist library in Kyoto. Buddhism has learned some useful lessons from Christianity. She is now learning the value of stated preaching for the information of her people in Buddhist doctrine, and the value of organized, systematic effort. A Young Men's Buddhist Association has been formed, after the model of the Young Men's Christian Association, which is doing much toward holding the young men to the Buddhist faith. Buddhism is on the alert, is quick and active, antagonizes us at every turn, and is one of the very strongest hindrances to the progress of Christianity.

(5) The social ostracism visited upon those who become Christians very much hinders our progress. Most of our converts, unless their relatives and friends are Christians, are ostracized; in many cases they are entirely cut off from their families and are disinherited. In America, when one becomes a Christian, he has the encouragement and sympathy of all good people, and his family and friends rejoice with him. In Japan for a member of a family to become a Christian is considered a disgrace, and the united influence of family and friends is powerfully exerted to prevent such a calamity. Influential men in our city have told me that perhaps the greatest hindrance to my work is that by becoming a Christian a man shuts himself off from his family and friends. I am convinced that many would take a stand for Christ much more readily if the home influence were not so antagonistic. A student in the Normal School of our city, who came to me for many months to study Christianity, told me that his family bitterly hated the Christian religion, and that he could not return home if he became a believer. In spite of this he was led by the Spirit to ask for baptism, and I baptized him. Afterward he wrote very dutiful letters to his home, trying to explain that he felt impelled by duty to take this step, and that Christianity was not so heinous a thing as they supposed; but no answers came. In course of time, being compelled to return to his own town on business, he went to his home to spend the night; but his mother and brothers would not recognize him, and he had to go away to a hotel. His father was dead, and his mother tried to disinherit him, but was by the law prevented. His family and friends have never forgiven him, and now he never sees them. Similar cases could be cited without number proving the same thing. Is it not natural, then, for a man to hesitate to take this step?