herbswanson.com
A Resource for the Study of the Thai church
Home Background Bibliography HeRB Thesis Links
Reviews

Philip Jenkins. "The Next Christianity." Atlantic Monthly 290, 3 (October 2002): 53-68. [available online at:http://www.theatlantic.com/issues/2002/10/jenkins.htm]

Jenkins, author of a recent book entitled The Next Christendom, has evidently gained some notoriety for his views on the demographic changes currently taking place in world Christianity. These are the same changes that Andrew Walls described in his article in the Princeton Seminary Bulletin in 2001 under the title, " From Christendom to World Christianity: Missions and the Demographic Transformation of the Church." (reviewed in HeRB 1). Where Walls celebrates current demographic trends, however, Jenkins fears them, and the tone of this article is alarmist, heralding the possible demise of Christianity as we know it in the face of the rise of what he calls "Southern Christianity." It is also a gem so far as religious polemics are concerned.

Jenkins' article discerns a growing, deepening rift between liberal, progressive "Northern Christianity" and reactionary, spiritualist Southern Christianity. This split is fueled by the undeniable fact that the demographic center of the Christian faith has shifted from its old European-North American axis to a new and more diverse Asian, African, and Latin American one. What Jenkins fears is that the liberal North will be swamped by the illiberal South, swamped that is by the fact of burgeoning southern and dwindling northern Christian constituencies. He has his statistics in place, supported by a flock of scary examples, mostly taken from "primitive" Africa, which he parades across the pages of his alarm. The whole presentation, as well done as it is polemically however, is also a gaggle of false assumptions and sweeping generalizations.

Those assumptions and generalizations begin with the author's focus, which is primarily on the Catholic Church. Although the article is ostensibly about world Christianity, much of the contents revolve around a contrast between northern Catholicism's desire to reform the church and southern Catholicism's anti-reformist, anti-abortion moralism and hierarchicalism. International Catholic power politics, thus, underlies Jenkins J fear that the northern church is about to be inundated by the South. From time to time, he broadens his focus to include Protestants, but only to return

47


quickly to a central anxiety over the future of northern Catholicism's place on the stage of international Catholic trends. The Orthodox family of churches is never mentioned at all, and Jenkins entirely fails to address the question of whether or not the supposed tension between Catholic liberals in the North and ultra-conservatives in the South is an accurate measure of the state of the whole faith across the whole globe. He assumes it is, but for those of us who are not Catholics, the fear that Vatican II is being undone by Southern Christianity seems to be a less immediate issue. The fact that since at least the 1860s important liberal factions within the American Catholic Church, in particular, have been out of step with the more conservative Vatican and the larger church reinforces one Js sense that Jenkin Js presentation is more melodramatic than reality warrants. It is questionable, in other words, that the situation facing contemporary global Catholicism is really a new or essentially different one. This is not to deny that there are serious problems facing the Catholic Church, which may have some impact on the rest of us, but one cannot but wonder whether or not Jenkins J alarmism is justified.

Where the author's questionable assumptions leave off, his grandiose generalizations take over. Most glaring among those generalizations is the stereotypical way in which the author treats Northern and Southern Christianity, so called. Each category encompasses hundreds of millions of Christians from dozens of nations and thousands of cultures. Yet, he treats the two sides only as two discrete, distinguishable objects. The one is progressive, the other reactionary. The one is enlightened, the other superstitious. The one is democratic, the other autocratic. And so it goes, until the reader realizes that, yes, the one is White and the other is Black (and Brown and Yellow). The ultimately racialist distinction Jenkins makes between Northern and Southern Christianity fails because it does not account for the far, far more complex historical and contemporary realities underlying the missionary expansion of the faith.

The distinction between North and South also fails because it attempts to transform undeniable, global ideological and theological divisions among Christians into a geographical-ethnic-cultural division. If we set aside for a moment the labels of North and South, it is clear that the world's churches are frequently split between more liberal and more conservative factions with the conservatives generally stronger

48


in numbers but with the liberals, in some mainline denominations at least, lodged securely in positions of authority. It is a split that at times digs a vast chasm between the members of particular churches and denominations. Jenkins is entirely wrong, however, in treating this ideological-theological division as a geographical and cultural category. Pentecostalism, for example, which he identifies as the engine driving much of the global ecclesiastical change that he fears, is a widely popular Northern religious phenomenon, which the North exported to the South. It is common knowledge, furthermore, that the so-called mainline churches are in general decline and that in the United States, in particular, the most demographically successful churches are conservative, fundamentalist, and Pentecostal churches. This is as true of white Americans as it is of the population generally. Viewed historically, again, there seems to be nothing new or especially startling about this virtually inherent tension with the Church Universal. New Testament scholars and historians of the early church find strong evidence of its presence from the very beginning of church history. Christians argue. They fight. Sometimes, they even go to war against each other for reasons that make little sense to those beyond the pale of the faith. One tragic contemporary example is the struggle between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland, which arises historically out of theological disputes going back to the time of the Reformation. Ireland, we need to remember, is in the North. Without in any way making light of the ongoing impact of the deep divisions within Christianity, one again has to wonder why all the sudden, dramatic alarm?

The author, in fact, operates out of an American Christian religious frame of reference dominated by the rhetoric of the modernist-fundamentalist split, which emerged into full bloom in American church history after the Civil War (1861-1865). Informing that rhetoric is a long-cherished Western dualism that draws an absolute divide between good and evil across all of creation. God and Satan. Right and wrong. Truth and falsehood. North and South. Jenkins' perspective is thus strikingly similar to that of 19th century Protestant missionaries in Thailand. He claims that Southern Christianity is anti-progressive and strongly implies that it is superstitious. He believes that it has been corrupted by the cultural orientation of Southern peoples, most particularly in Africa. He describes the terrorism employed by right-wing African Christian sects, implying (but not stating explicitly) that their barbarism typifies the nature (or potential nature) of the whole of Southern Christianity. (One might just

49


as easily draw on the Ku Klux Klan or George Bush to typify all of American Christianity). He describes the Southern Church as being primitive and rural in contrast to progressive, urban Northern Christianity. This is old-time missionary talk of the most blatant sort, the only thing missing being an overt contrast between Christian civilization and heathen superstition. That contrast is implied, nonetheless, throughout the article, most especially in the author's assumption that Southern culture is the cause of Southern Christianity's repressive, reactionary orthodoxy. He explicitly equates Southern Christianity's "anti-intellectual fundamentalism" with the pressures of Southern culture. Southern Christianity is reactionary and repressive, in sum, because of its cultural setting.

What a strange idea.

Setting aside the question of whether or not the churches of Africa, Asia, and Latin America are truly so reactionary as Jenkins believes, it is still strange that when I walk over to our local temple at Ban Dok Daeng I am greeted with semi-rural, culturally conservative, lSouthern L local people who firmly believe that all religions teach people to be good. They think that all religions have the same intentions and directions. They share, that is, a generally held attitude in lowland Thailand about people of other faiths that is astonishingly open and enlightened by today's standards. If, in the past, I wanted to find people who had narrow, negative attitudes about people of other faiths, I would have had to trot over to the local church, which has been heavily influenced by Western missionary Christianity. It was missionary representatives of lNorthern L Christianity, that is, who taught the lSouthern L Christians of Ban Dok Daeng a narrow, Western dualistic attitude about peoples of other faiths. The attitudes that Jenkins thinks are culturally Asian have been imported into Ban Dok Daeng, in fact, from the West. We have found in Ban Dok Daeng that there are local cultural resources available to deal with the religious prejudices imported into the community from the North. Primary among those resources is a deep concern for village unity.

It is difficult to take Jenkins' alarmism seriously at another level. His own words, if read with a little less bias, indicate that the churches of his South are deeply committed to the Bible, display a strong sense of spirituality, and effectively minister to people who are living in poverty and under oppression. They bring physical and

50


mental healing to people who have little recourse to expensive Western medicines and psychologists. Indeed, he himself points out certain parallels between African churches and the early church. Yet, the author manages to twist even these biblical parallels into lproof L that the African church is spiritual-istic and backwards, an indication of the consistent bias he displays against the non-Western church.

There is much more to criticize in this article. It typifies mainline Western Christian attitudes about Pentecostals, heaping the lot into one massive pile and charging them all with being the vanguard of a conspiracy to overthrow the Northern Church. Yet, the author also describes them as being a set of Christians who reject tradition and hierarchy and even set direct personal revelations in place of the Bible-characteristics that are just the opposite of those that are supposed to typify authoritarian Southern Christianity. Therein lies the problem with Jenkins' grand, stereotypical scheme. It does not work. It does not work when, as another example, he repeatedly points to supposed parallels between the Protestant Reformation and Catholic Counter-Reformation to the present. It is five hundred years later, the world has changed almost beyond recognition, and the cases are not the same.

There are minor incongruities as well. The author, as one example, exemplifies the orthodox, reactionary faith of the South in the person of Francis Cardinal Arinze of Nigeria. Although affable and articulate, he is also "rigidly conservative and even repressive" in terms of academic freedom and orthodoxy. The author states, "In his theology as much as his social views he is a loyal follower of Pope John Paul II. Anyone less promising for Northern notions of reform is difficult to imagine." (page 59). Yes, but isn't the Pope himself a northern European? You see the confusion, even in the details and minor points.

In the end, Jenkins' real concern can only be called petty, in the face of all of the heat and smoke he generates in the article. Towards the close of the article, he draws on the experience of the American Episcopal Church to warn Catholics of the dire future they face. He cites the case of an African Anglican archbishop who has been ordaining dissident Episcopalians as bishops, who then go back to the United States to minister to conservative congregations that disagree with certain liberal stands taken by their denomination. That's it. The author himself points out that nothing in international Anglican ecclesiastical law prohibits the archbishop's actions.

51


The dire future of Jenkins' nightmares is that conservative forces among American Catholics will find ways to circumvent the liberals to gain control over the American church. Southern Christianity, by his own admission, ministers to tens of millions of people in need, gives them hope and meaning, provides them with healing, but the author casts aspersions on these Christ-like achievements for reasons of patent ecclesiastical politics. Petty institutional politics is really all that the author is on about. Who is in power and who Js agenda is taken up in the Catholic Church is weighed as more significant than the religious and spiritual needs of the Two-Thirds World.

None of this is to say that the state of world Christianity is all rosy and wonderful. Christians are deeply split and treat each other across denominational and theological lines with appalling intolerance. Triumphalism is rampant in many quarters of the church, as is belief in the gospel of success, which is nothing more than self-aggrandizement in the name of Christ. Let us, however, not confuse matters by applying to them false constructs, a narrow dualism, and a petty alarmism. And let us see that in the midst of all this human confusion and ecclesiastical nonsense, Jesus of Nazareth is still Good News to a significant part of our world.

Dirk Van der Cruysse. Siam & The West 1500 -1700. Translated by Michael Smithies. Chiang Mai: Silkworm Books, 2002.

This is a large work for a single volume, running to 565 pages by the end of the last index. While not precisely a "difficult read," the writing style of the book does not invite one to continue apart from a serious motivation to do so on the part of the reader. Siam & the West, moreover, is an old-fashioned history book in at least three ways. First, it harkens back to the grand old days when political and diplomatic historians dominated professional history and defined how the rest of us understood the past. Second, the author seems to see himself as primarily a story-teller; there is relatively little critical historiographical analysis anywhere in the book. Third, Van der Cruysse focuses on the splendors and depravities of the ruling classes, both in Siam and in Europe. Ordinary people appear here only as nameless slaves, servants, and soldiers-a part of the backdrop against which the grand morality play of European and Siamese diplomacy was played out by Kings, royalty, and priests. It is surely quite acceptable to write old-fashioned history, however, and the author does a

52


better than adequate job of putting the story of Siam's diplomatic relations with the West on the table.

In telling that story, the author also relates a substantial amount of background and "surround" information, some of it so extensive and detailed that the reader almost forgets the subject of the book. Whether the details of European history, in cluding the history of Catholic missions, detract from the overall story or not depends on the individual tastes of the reader. While those details distract the reader in one sense, they also put the emergence of Siam's relations with Europe into a clear context. To a degree, Van der Cruysse tells us about the larger world in which Siam found itself in the 16th and 17th centuries.

One can find things to complain about. The author, for example, treats some of his subjects with a snide sarcasm and indulges in cute asides that add nothing to the quality of his account. One curious feature, furthermore, is that while the book has an index of all of the ships mentioned (on the voyages of diplomats back and forth between Europe and Southeast Asia) it does not have a subject index. On the other hand, it does have a good chronology that helps the reader keep events and details straight.

I will leave a fuller evaluation of these various aspects of Siam & the West to those reviewers who are more qualified to comment on them than I am. I would like to focus more narrowly on the insights this book gives us into the history of Christian missions in Siam/Thailand, Protestant as well as Catholic. Although there is a huge difference between the historical era described by the author and that of 19th century Protestant missions, the similarities between the earlier Catholic and later Protestant missionary movements are striking. One of the facts of church history in Thailand today is the dearth of information available on Catholic church history, whether in Thai or English. Reading Van der Cruysee suggests the value of having a continuous narrative of Christian missions in Siam/Thailand from the 16th century down to the present. Our lack of knowledge of Catholic history (and large portions of Protestant history), however, means that it would take an extended research effort to create such a narrative.

53


The author, to take one important example, links French intentions to Christianize and gain control over Siam in the 1680s to Louis XIV's persecution of French Protestants, which began when he revoked of the Edict of Nantes. The French government, that is, pursued domestic and foreign policies with a crusader mentality that combined politics, diplomacy, and religious concerns focused alike on dissident Christians and heathen Buddhists. Van der Cruysse, more generally, highlights the religious intolerance and cultural arrogance that characterized the Catholic missionaries and their sending agencies in the period under study. He presents a particularly striking contrast between the religious attitudes of Siamese Buddhists and the Catholic missionaries who came to convert them to Christianity. He observes that each side found the religious views of the other impossible to understand, but it is the European Catholic inability to understand Buddhism's tolerance of other view points that the author highlights and criticizes. Of one encounter between a Buddhist monk and Catholic priest, the author asks, "What can a man convinced of believing a unique truth say to another who is content with his own version of truth, without questioning that of his interlocutor?" (pages 140-141). He goes on to contend that this "fundamental misunderstanding" between the two religion's view points, "was to underlie the relations between France, full of propagating zeal in the second half of the seventeenth century, and the serenely Buddhist Siam of Phra Narai." (page 142). Phra Narai was the King at the time of the French ascendency in Siam. It becomes clear in the course of the book that Christian zeal fails before Buddhist serenity.

The contrast between zeal and serenity is, in some ways, an over-simplification of Buddhist-Christian relations in historical Siam/Thailand. Still, it does call our attention to the demographic failure of both Catholic and Protestant Christianity to make inroads in lowland Thailand, a failure as persistent in the 21st century as it was in the 17th and 19th centuries. The author's critique of the Catholic missionaries' failure to understand the Thai religious mentality applies with equal force to the Protestant missionary movement as well. Dr. Maen Pongudom, in his landmark doctoral dissertation comparing Presbyterian missionary strategies in Thailand to the thinking of the early church fathers, argues that missionary ignorance of the Thai Buddhism has been a key factor in the failure to present the Thai people with a contextually meaningful Christian message.

54


The author's description of Catholic missions in Siam reveals other parallells with later Protestant work. One that I find especially intriguing in light of my own research is the way in which 17th century Jesuit and 19th century Presbyterian missionaries both utilized scientific knowledge as a medium for the communication of their missionary message. In the case of the Catholics, the Jesuits sent teams of priests trained in math, astronomy and other sciences to establish centers of learning in Siam, this on a model that they used previously in China. Phra Narai, furthermore, seems to have taken as keen an interest in Western learning in the 1680s as King Mongkut did 150 years later. The reception the people of France gave to the diplomatic envoys sent to Siam suggests another, somewhat quirky parallel. According to Van der Cruysse, France went through a Siam craze in the 1680s with large crowds mobbing the Siamese envoys to France whenever they went out in public, and the French populace displayed a deep curiousity about everything have to do with these exotics. From the late 1860s, the people of Chiang Mai and northern Siam displayed strikingly similar interest regarding the farang missionaries until they eventually became used to the Western missionaries' strange habits, manners, and customs.

One important contribution the author makes to our understanding of missionary history is his detailed descriptions of the Catholic missionary voyages to Siam. The trip out to Siam was an important time for study and preparation. The long voyages also include stops in various ports where the prospective missionaries formed their first impressions of "heathenism." Van der Cruysse mentions the sometimes touchy relationship between missionaries and sailors, who became the first objects of missionary evangelism. Presbyterian missionary families coming out to Siam in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries had virtually the same experiences until the advent of air travel, although their ships were much safer, faster, and more comfortable than those used by French missionaries travelling in the 1660s and 1680s.

Siam & the West is not a religious history. It is not church history. Although the history of the Catholic Church in Siam, in fact, receives little attention, warranting only a few asides, the author devotes considerable attention to the Catholic missionaries to Siam, particularly the French missionaries, because of their role in the diplomatic events recounted by the author. The result is that there is not a little to be gleaned concerning the history of Christian missions in Thailand, and the author's

55


story of Siamese and European diplomatic relations offers numerous insights into the larger history of the Catholic Church in Siam.

56


<< Previouse Section
Go to :