Thoughts on Missions

by Sheldon Dibble

Common trials need not be named: we allude only to a few of those that are most severe. Take then first, the trial of leaving friends. The Saviour says, "He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." The plain meaning is, to be Christians, our love to Christ must be supreme. Now, if it is supreme, it will show itself to be so in our conduct. There is full room, even at the present day, for a practical test of this condition of discipleship. Not only is the spirit of this passage required, but in many cases, a literal compliance with the identical things named in it. This saying of our Saviour has been too much forgotten. Like some other important sayings of our Lord, it has been virtually expunged. It has been regarded as applying only to apostolic times—to times of persecution. This is a wide mistake. If all nations are to be enlightened by the use of means, there must be a practical exhibition among Christians at the present time, and in all time to come, of a love to Christ superior to the love which we owe to father, mother, son or daughter. And this love is not spoken of as a high attainment in piety, but as an indispensable condition of discipleship. The missionary enterprise presents many instances of stern necessity to test and exhibit this principle.

The occasion most familiar to the general reader, and the one best appreciated by him, is the time when missionaries go forth to the heathen. They are compelled to break away from almost every tie. The strength of attachment to all that is dear on earth, is a feeling that may be experienced, and can be imagined too, in part, but can never be described. There are a thousand ties, and tender ties too, that must be sundered. The loved scenes of childhood and youth, and scenes of sacred peace and pleasure that cluster about the sanctuary, the conference-room and the praying circle, must all receive a parting thought. Friends—dear friends and connections, must receive a last adieu and a lingering look. But O how keen the sensation when the last sigh, the last tear, and the last embrace is to be exchanged with father and mother, brother and sister—when all the touching associations of kindred and home are for once revived to be dismissed forever!

Imagine not that the sensibilities of missionaries are less exquisite than those of other persons. The pangs they endure are indeed alleviated by soothing considerations drawn from the Gospel; but they are, notwithstanding, deep—deeper than the looker-on may at first suppose.

There may be some persons—I have heard of such—who misrepresent the feelings and motives of missionaries in leaving their friends; who impute to them cold hearts and a bluntness of sensibility; who say that they are wanting in filial devotion, and can therefore leave aged parents to droop and die: that they have a small share of fraternal affection, and that it is therefore they can break away from the embrace of brothers and sisters, and leave them in anguish and in tears. All these remarks are sometimes made, and perhaps oftener secretly indulged, than openly expressed. It is often that the missionary is not allowed to take his leave merely with a bleeding heart and a soul gushing with emotion, but is compelled to endure a keener anguish: that of knowing that the course he is taking, agonizing as it is, is imputed by some to a want of sensibility; to a destitution of the finer, tenderer, and more delicate feelings, that adorn society, and that make families lovely and happy. Here then are trials: such, however, as he must cheerfully meet for Christ's sake.

But the separation from home, with its numerous and nameless endearments, and at the risk of misrepresentation, is but the first lesson of obedience. That person whose love to Christ is so weak as to fail here on the threshold, would give but poor evidence of being prepared for similar and severer trials in prospect. The main occasion for exemplifying the spirit of the Saviour's words to which we have alluded, is on heathen ground, when stern necessity calls upon parents to make the best disposition in their power in regard to their own children. This is an occasion not so well understood by the Christian community as the one I have noticed. The difficulties in the way of properly training children on heathen ground are not clearly seen; neither are all the objections appreciated which attend the usual alternative, that of sending them to a Christian land. These are the occasions of trial, compared with which all other sufferings of the missionary are scarcely worthy of being named. They are trials, however, that must be met, not evaded; for the Saviour says, "He that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." They must be cheerfully met, and counted "all joy," or we cannot claim the spirit of the first disciples.

There are those, I know, who would relieve this subject at once by proposing the celibacy of missionaries; but the argument of such persons can hardly be deemed worth considering, till they shall know a little more "what they say, and whereof they affirm." Celibacy for ministers at home would be a much more proper and expedient arrangement, than for missionaries in most foreign fields. And one would think that the experience of the church, from the days of the apostles till now, had taught us enough to silence at once any such proposition, and to place it forever at rest. Were it in place for me, I could give reasons here to the heart's content: but I deem it more prudent to forbear.

The difficulties in the way of training children on heathen ground, cannot all be named; and fewer still can be justly appreciated by those who have never made the attempt. What I shall say will apply particularly to barbarous and degraded nations, such as the Sandwich Islanders once were; for it is to such nations that the missionary's eye should be specially directed.

I shall mention first, the difficulty of keeping children from the pollutions and vices of the heathen. Children have eyes, and among the heathen what do they see? I need only refer you to the knowledge you already possess of the naked condition, vile habits, and gross vices of a barbarous people. There is much in heathen society which cannot be described, but which children must more or less witness. The state of things, in this respect, is very much improved at the Sandwich Islands; but I refer to that condition in which they once were—to that condition in which all barbarous nations are, without the light of the Gospel. Imagine then to yourself this feature of heathen society, and then repeat the inquiry, What do children see?

Again, children have ears, and they cannot be so effectually closed as to be kept from learning in some measure the language of the heathen. And if they become acquainted with the language of the heathen, what do they hear day after day? In many a pagan country they are liable to hear disputes, contentions, revilings, execration and blasphemy; but what is more, they are liable to hear in familiar, unblushing and open conversation, words and phrases which are not so much as to be named. The heathen have no forbidden words in their language. Every term is liable to be brought into public and frequent use without the least sense of impropriety.

On account of this pernicious example and vile conversation, many missionaries, where it is practicable, make walls about their houses, and endeavor by strict inclosures to prevent their children from having intercourse with the natives. This can be done in some places, and to some degree, while children are young; but when they are somewhat grown up, it is preposterous to think of keeping them within inclosures. And as soon as they are out of their inclosures, there are a thousand pitfalls ready for their feet, on the right hand and on the left. How much solicitude was felt by Abraham and Isaac for their children, on account of the heathen population which surrounded them. This pernicious influence, better imagined than described, and still better seen than imagined, is one of the reasons which lead missionaries to undergo the agony of separation, and to send their children to a Christian land. This evil at the Sandwich Islands is much diminished, but not so much so as may at first glance be supposed from the progress in Christianity which has been made, and from the powerful revivals which have here been experienced.