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John R. Davis, Poles Apart? Bangkok: Kanok
Bannasan, 1993.
Few
of the books on my bookshelf are as marked over and scribbled on
as Davis' Poles Apart? It is a thoughtful and thought-provoking
book written from an articulate, self-consciously evangelical perspective
to the end that evangelicals might more faithfully and effectively
communicate the Christian message in Thailand. In the process of
making his case, Davis carefully considers perspectives usually
considered inimical by evangelicals and even comments favorably
on some of those perspectives. He is not afraid to draw on useful
insights from them, and he challenges his evangelical audience to
adapt a more open, accepting stance towards other viewpoints and
towards the larger process of contextualization. I have "heard"
that some evangelical missionaries in Thailand have felt ambivalent
about Poles Apart?, and it is not hard to see why.
I
must confess that I actually share their ambivalence albeit from
an entirely different perspective. As a set of discrete "thought
experiments," Poles Apart? spurs one to reflection.
As an extended argument for contextualizing the Christian message
in Thailand, however, it is fatally flawed by a number of hidden
assumptions, which in the end provide yet another example of Western
evangelicalism's inability to accept anything that isn't Western
evangelicalism. If Poles Apart? is at all creative or innovative,
it is in the fact that Davis takes a slightly broader view of what
is safely evangelical than do most other evangelical missionaries
in Thailand. In the end, it is much less innovative than it appears
to be at first blush.
One
has to balance a critical evaluation of Davis, however, with a serious
appreciation for his willingness to think about what some, perhaps
many other evangelicals reject out of hand. He takes his positions
with integrity, and he does wrestle with issues that he himself
acknowledges admit to no easy solution. He is also aware of the
dangers of Protestant evangelicalism's tendency to epistemological
arrogance. He sees some of the strengths of Buddhism and truly hungers
after expressions of the Christian faith that will "reload"
the Buddhist world view with what he considers to be biblical Christian
truth.
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 Yet,
it is precisely Davis' integrity, honesty, and sincerety that offer
his readers a prime study in what we might call the "evangelical
trap." Evangelical missionaries, church leaders, and probably
many of the Thai evangelicals in the pews are necessarily out of
sympathy with Thai Buddhism and Thai religious consciousness, and
that lack of sympathy makes it virtually impossible for them to
shape their message to fit the real-life spiritual needs of the
Thai people. The evangelical version of the Good News has always
been and continues to be bad news, or more precisely unwanted, uninteresting,
incomprehensible, and somehow out-of-whack news to the vast majority
of Thai people. In this regard, Poles Apart? does not differ
at all from the long-standing evangelical tradition of evangelism
in Thailand. It is simply not good news, let alone Good News, to
Thai ears.
To
go to the heart of the matter, the central failing of evangelicalism
in general and Davis' Poles Apart? in particular is that
both are fundamentally out of sympathy with the openly syncretistic,
comfortably pluralistic Thai religious consciousness and world view.
People in Thailand repeat endlessly the mantras that every religion
is good and that every religion has the same basic purpose of teaching
people to be good. People in Thailand also value smooth, accepting
relationships based on mutual respect embedded within a society
that loaths overt personal confrontation (subtle personal confrontation
being another matter entirely). Within the Thai socio-religious
context, Protestant evangelicalism is inherently combative and abrasive.
It necessarily denies the premise that all religions are good and
builds its personal relationships with people of other faiths around
its evangelistic agenda, an agenda that takes a heavily, overtly
negative attitude towards people of other faiths.
Davis
tries to be different, but at heart he is not—not in any meaningful
sense. He clearly believes that Christianity alone saves, and he
takes a generally negative and unsympathetic attitude towards classical
Theravada Buddhism, his chief protagonist. He echoes nearly two
centuries of Protestant missionary complaints against Thai Buddhism
in his contention that it is a dreary, hope-less faith that cannot
meet the real spiritual needs of its adherents. As but one example,
in his particularly anti-Buddhist chapter on "The Nature of
Suffering," he writes, "Whereas the Buddhist tries to
disavow self and negate its importance, the Christian can enjoy
God and His creation to the full as well as celebrate his selfhood."
(page 66) Sentences like this
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one are scattered throughout Poles Apart?
and make it a largely anti-contextual work in the Thai socio-religious
context, however much Davis draws on ecumenical and dialogical sounding
rhetoric from time to time.
Davis
cannot help holding such views, so long as he maintains the integrity
of his evangelical faith, for at the heart of that faith stands
Jesus Christ, the world's Lord and Saviour. At the end of his chapter
on "Local Theologies," Davis writes, "To infer that
there is another way in which to resolve the problem of guilt, effectively
reduces Christ to a mere Teacher of Religion, rather than the Saviour
of the World." (page 54). Davis also contends that if Buddhism
offers viable solutions to any of the important spiritual problems
facing humanity, the Christian claim that Jesus is the divine Son
of God is necessarily negated. In this and other related ways, he
requires that contextualization must preserve the divinity of Christ
and other essential Christian truths, which means that contextualization
is first and foremost defensive and only secondarily exploratory.
And while Davis readily agrees that much of Western missionary Christianity
is rooted in Western culture and therefore not binding on Thai Christianity,
he repeatedly affirms that there is a core of beliefs that are transcultural
and must be preserved intact. He never questions the possibility
that even his insistence on an "essential gospel" is itself
culturally bound or that, at least, his assumed list of essences
of the faith (divinity of Christ, authority of Scripture, the existence
of a set of eternal truths, and other similar beliefs) are so bound.
In
a passing comment, Davis also makes it clear that he is not in sympathy
with the kind of contextualization that Thai Christians do on their
own. He quotes the ecumenical theologian Kosuke Koyama to the effect
that Thai Christians have replaced the dynamic biblical understanding
of God with a Buddhist-like timeless but impotent God. He states,
"Koyama clearly feels, and correctly so, that Thai Christians
tend to over-contextualize the God of the Bible, so that
their image of God would fit with the Buddhist ideas." (page
47) The point being made about Thai Christian views of God is highly
debatable, but the more important issue reflected in Davis' views
is that he implies that Thai Christians themselves are not competent
to carry out contextualization. They do not know how to preserve
the proper boundaries between the essence of the Christian faith
and the (unacceptable) religious views of their own culture. Too
much can be made of what is a single paragraph in Poles Apart?,
but it
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is clear from the tenor of the whole book that
Davis assumes that Thai Christians themselves have done little or
nothing in terms of correct, creative contextualization of the type
he is advocating. Early on, Davis also makes a passing critical
reference to African contextualization, which he sees as being too
syncretistic and proof of the need for "parameters" to
preserve the distinctiveness of Christianity (pages 19-20). Western
churches, apparently, do not share in the same untrustworthy, over-contextualizing
tendencies. If I am reading Davis correctly, he stands firmly in
the old-time missionary tradition that denigrates the theological
integrity of the Thai church even as it assumes that Western missionaries
are primarily responsible for the ways and forms by which Thai Christians
are to express their faith..
Throughout
the book, Davis' gaze is firmly fixed on the views of scholars
and missiologists; his bibliography contains only a handful of
Thai sources, few of which are Christian. He offers no cogent
descriptions of how Thai Christians actually express their faiths
and does not seem to have considered the possibility of actually
studying how the process of contextualization has and has not
proceeded in Thai churches. His sources are mostly Western, frequently
theoretical works, and the bulk of them have nothing to do with
Thailand at all. With all due respect, I would suggest that Davis'
essentialist theology all but programmed him to look to Western
theological and missiological sources for guidance in his very
genuine struggle to incarnate the Gospel in Asia. There is, sad
to say, nothing new here. Evangelical missionaries have long looked
on themselves and their Western traditions as the hope of the
church in Thailand—usually overtly, sometimes implicitly.
In spite
of the ocassional ecumenical and broad-minded tone of Poles
Apart?, what we are left with is a deadend approach to contextualization.
Davis, on the one hand, wants to fit the Christian package into
the Thai socio-religious context. He pares that package down to
its barebones minimum in order to maximize the possibilities of
contextualization, which is why his approach is unacceptable to
some other evangelicals. The very nature of his evangelical faith,
however, ultimately frustrates his program because he necessarily
continues to believe that the Thai Buddhist religious consciousness
is inferior to the Western Christian one and because he supposes
that Western Christians have maintained the essentials of the
one faith that leads to salvation. Davis' version of the Gospel
is still an alien Gospel, and he
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himself is still not willing to take the risks necessary to seriously
relocate the Christian faith in Thai culture. The Gospel package
according to Davis has to come from outside Thai society, and it
has a definite shape, essentially un-Thai, that must be
preserved at all costs. Anything taken from Thai society, rituals
for example, must first be repackaged, reloaded, or reconceptualized
according to the logic of the essential Christian package.
Davis's essentialism and fundamental lack of sympathy with Thai
religious consciousness, in sum, undermines his "evangelical
minimalism," that is his attempt to keep the Christian essentials
to a very minimum.
The central
problem facing the evangelical approach to evangelism in Thailand,
as reflected in Poles Apart? is that the Thai religious
consciousness is syncretistic, pluralistic, and anti-essentialist.
It is willing to borrow openly from many different sources to
construct its faith. It acknowledges that there are numerous paths
of religious truth and while, for it, Buddhism is the better path
that does not mean that the Christian or Muslim or Hindu paths
are invalid. Evangelical Christianity is the opposite; it is anti-syncretistic
and essentialist. So long as it remains so, it remains unsympathetic
to Thai religious consciousness and for just that long cannot
tell the Good News of Jesus Christ to the people of Thailand.
That is the evangelical trap.
Davis' approach
to contextualization is made doubly doubtful by the fact that
he almost entirely ignores the real Buddhism that is actually
practiced by the people of Thailand. He aims his descriptions
and criticisms of Buddhism at classical Theravada Buddhism. When
he typifies Thai Buddhist thinking he does so on the basis of
classical texts, and most of his authorities on Buddhism, though
not all to be sure, write about Buddhism generally rather than
real-life Thai village Buddhism. Thus, for example, Davis repeats,
as we saw above, that age-old missionary description of dreary,
formless Buddhism, which does not offer its adherents any hope
for the future. Village Buddhism, in contrast, is frequently lively
and local people constantly go to it for solutions to life's problems.
Indeed, if one looks by way of comparison at the average Protestant
worship service and the strictures placed on Protestant congregational
life, the gay temple colors and lively festivals of rural Buddhism
offer far more in the way of joy and celebration. It is churches
rather than temples that appear cheerless and dreary. Davis' failure
to direct his contextualization
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study to local Thai village and urban life is a major methodological
flaw, and it may be that it also reflects a deeper reluctance to
acknowledge the value of Thai culture as a full, valued partner
in contextualization.
Davis, has also failed,
methodologically, to study how local Thai churches have actually
gone about contextualizing their faith. He has failed to see,
for example, that a central element in the Thai understanding
of God as the All-Powerful Patron is drawn more from "secular"
socio-political models of patron-client relations rather than
on classical Theravada Buddhism. He has failed to see that King
Bhumibol offers to Thai Christians an important model for the
person of Christ. (There is, for example, the powerful photograph
taken some years ago and widely shown in Thailand down to the
present of an elderly, wrinkled village woman bowed low on the
ground, her glowing face gazing in reverent awe on the King, who
is on bended knee above her. Democratic Westerners may not feel
comfortable with the image, but for Thai Christians it unconsciously
models the love the royal Saviour has for his people.) Again,
Davis' classical Theravada Buddhism is irrelevant.
Poles
Apart? does not, thus, reflect the actual situation on the
ground either in terms of Thai Buddhism as it is practiced at
the local level or of the ways in which local Christians have
already gone about making cultural sense of their religious faith.
It is a theoretical theological treatise—removed from local
life—that propses a form of contextualization driven by
the Western missionary agenda and aimed at classical Theravada
Buddhism, an artificial construct that does not even exist as
such in Thailand. To a large degree, Poles Apart? is
representative of numerous other evangelical missionary studies
of contextualization and the relationship of the church to Thai
culture, most of which are actually more about the attempts of
missionaries to make sense of the Thai religious scene than anything
else. They are autobiographical records of the Western evangelical
struggle to come to terms with Thailand, an ongoing struggle that
reflects the "evangelical trap." Taken together, they
seem to be striving for some strategy, some means to sneak the
evangelical package past the Buddhist guardianship of the Thai
religious consciousness.
Having said
all of this, I would still strongly recommend Davis' Poles
Apart? to those who are interested in the relationship of
the Protestant churches to contemporary culture in Thailand. The
author raises key issues that allow no easy
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solutions in a readable, direct manner that eschews self-important
rhetoric. He presents a clear evangelical perspective that encourages
readers to think through their own positions. Beyond superficialities,
there is hardly anything in this book that I would agree with, but
I still feel that it is an important work that deserves to be widely
read and deeply studied. My only caveat would be that readers not
take it at face value but use it as a stimulus for their own critical
reflections.

Marcell Le Blanc, S.J., History of Siam
in 1688. Translated and edited by Michael Smithies. Chiang
Mai: Silkworm Books, 2003.
This is not
a book that I would normally choose to review for HeRB,
but I was requested to do a review of it by a local Chiang Mai
representative of the journal Quest and have decided
to do a second, somewhat different review of the book here. It
turns out that it is a book well worth reviewing. It raises issues
and provides insights that are useful to the larger study of church
history in Thailand.
Le Blanc
(1653-1693) was a Jesuit mathematician sent out by the French
government as a missionary to the court of King Narai of Siam
(r. 1656-1688) in 1687. While he was in Siam, Le Blanc witnessed
a virtual coup d'état by which Narai's successor, Phra
Phetracha (r. 1688-1703), seized the person of the King, executed
some of his key supporters, and similarly disposed of two other
claimants to the throne. In the process of these events, Phetracha
also ousted and executed Narai's chief minister, a Greek adventurer
by the name of Constantine Phaulkon (1647-1688) and forced the
French troops that were Phaulkon's chief source of support to
leave Siam. Not coincidently, Phetracha also severely limited
the growing influence of European Catholic missionaries and the
Christian community, which was composed almost exclusively of
foreign Catholics including Japanese Christian refugees. Le Blanc
provides one of a number of European descriptions of these events,
one that is based on his own close proximity to them. History
of Siam in 1688 is thus an important primary source document
for the study of a key event in seventeenth-century Thai history
at a time when Siam successfully resisted French attempts to colonize
and Christianize it. The value of this book for most readers,
then, is what we might style a "secular" one because
of its importance to general Thai history. The
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book's editor presents it in this light, and we can presume that
Silkworm Book's chief interest in publishing this book is for its
straight historical value.
Le Blanc's
book, however, may also be looked upon as a theological treatise
and an ideological "snapshot" of Catholic missionary
religious attitudes and prejudices that helps us to understand
how Christianity has come to be seen by Thai Buddhists as the
adversary of Thai religious consciousness. As a historian of Protestantism
in Thailand, I find original sources for Catholic missionary thinking
such as this one to be useful for throwing more light on the whole
history of Christian missions in Siam since the sixteenth century.
Institutionally, one can make a good case, I think, for arguing
that Catholic and Protestant church history are two separate fields
of study. Aside from some few half-hearted stabs at establishing
a closer ecumenical promiximity in more recent decades, the only
substantial relationship between the two historically has been
adversarial.
One could
also make a case, however, that ideologically the two Christian
movements have shared a great deal in common and actually encompass
one continuous history rather than two. The first two Catholic
missionaries arrived in Siam, so far as we know now, in 1567 (see
Catholic Church History in Thailand) less than
50 years after the beginning of the Protestant Reformation. When
Christian missions began in Siam, that is, Catholicism and Protestantism
were still ideologically much closer to each other than either
would have admitted then. Le Blanc's aplogetic for French and
Catholic behavior in Siam in 1687-1688 makes those similarities
abundantly clear, and much of his attitude concerning and behavior
towards Thai culture and religion is the same as those of nineteenth-century
Protestant missionaries. Both the Catholic and Protestant missionaries
severely criticized the Siamese for being immoral, unrefined,
superstitious, ignorant, sly and deceitful, cowardly, and so on
through a long list of failings. Le Blanc, as a minor example,
cites a proverb "current in Siam," presumably among
the foreigners, that, "…one should leave commerce to
the Dutch, fine arts to the Chinese, war to the French, and deviousness
to the Siamese." (page 56)
Unlike the
Protestant missionaries, however, Le Blanc also condemned the
Siamese for being savages and barbarians. He believed that they
were lacking in any civilized refinements, and he has few good
words for any Siamese other than King
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Narai and one or two faithful Siamese servants of French masters.
The later Protestant missionaries usually acknowledged that the
Siamese were civilized, believing only that their's was an inferior
civilization. Le Blanc's History of Siam in 1688 represents thus
another example of what Edward Said and others term "orientalism,"
the preudicial presentation of Asian peoples by self-styled European
experts on the Orient.
This book is a theological
treatise that parallells later Protestant missionary writings
in a number of other ways as well. Most notably, it attributes
the events it records to providence, seeing in God's hand the
force that moves human behavior along divinely directed paths.
It also gives considerable attention to the persecution Christians
underwent during and after the events of 1688 and emphasizes the
value of and heroism displayed by the suffering of the Christians.
Le Blanc foreshadows future Protestant missionary thinking even
in his ocassional swipes at heretical Protestantism itself. Protestant
missionary writers in the nineteenth century were equally happy
to lambast the Antichrist of Rome and his minions in Siam.
The translation
and publication of History of Siam in 1688 is an important
contribution, then, to the study of Thai church history. One does
wish that the editor had provided a somewhat more comprehensive
description of the background and historical context of the book,
altho the "Chronology of Events" at the end of the book
is helpful. The bibliography is also quite inadequate. What the
editor has done is to point interested readers in the direction
of Van der Cruysse's Siam and the West 1500-1700, which
he also translated. I reviewed that book in HeRB
4 and feel for a number of reasons that it does not adequately
take the place of a fuller scholarly treatment of the background
and significance of History of Siam in 1688. If nothing
else, the reader may not even have access to Van der Cruysse.
Be that as it may, this is still an important book and yet another
welcome addition to the published primary sources available for
the study of Thai church history.
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