Part 7

At the same time, in order to avoid attention and thereby avert conflict, the Christians, in many cases, conformed to the outward practises of their Moslem masters. Their women veiled themselves when in public and covered their mouths at all times. Efforts to provide a general education for their children were largely abandoned and wide-spread illiteracy prevailed. The vices of the Mohammedans, some of them the vilest known to men, were practised by many of the Christians, and falsehood was so common that truth came to be almost a curiosity. To cheat or deceive a Turk was considered in itself almost a Christian virtue. In the conflict with Islam, Christianity, in its ignorance, was driven to the wall and lost nearly everything except its ancient Bible and most excellent ritual, with houses of worship, a hierarchy and a form to which it adhered with most commendable tenacity.

These untoward conditions were aggravated by the fact that, in Turkey, the Church came to be a political organization, presided over by an appointee of the sultan, who was capable of being dismissed by him if he chose to exercise his power. Each Church with its political patriarch at Constantinople constituted a little state within a state. Every Church represented a separate race or nation whose rights within the empire were vested in the rights of the Church, directed by the patriarch. At the patriarchate were recorded—and it is true to-day—all births, marriages and deaths. Individual existence in the empire was recognized only through the Church. The Christian’s sole representative at Constantinople to speak for him in case of injustice, or to secure a privilege, or to obtain his legal rights, was the patriarch of his own peculiar Church.

The political organization extended down through the different provinces and included in its last analysis each individual church. Under the injustice endured by the Christians of Turkey during the past five hundred years, it is most natural that not a few of the members of the Church, if not a great majority, should look upon the organization, not primarily as a spiritual temple, but as a means of securing redress for wrongs suffered, or for obtaining privileges from the Porte. Under the laws of Turkey the Church must exercise political functions. Under the practise of the people, it came to be primarily political, the spiritual being relegated to the background.

General education never existed in that country, but under the sway of the Moslem all education was discouraged. The schools of the Moslems consisted of classes in reading the Koran in Arabic, accompanied by traditional stories of Mohammed and comments upon his teachings. Among the Christians there was little except the instruction of a few youths in monasterial schools where men were trained for Church orders. It is true that now and then among the Greeks and Armenians some bright and inquiring mind far exceeded the ordinary bounds of indigenous scholarship and became conspicuous for learning. But these were rare exceptions. The masses of the people of all classes and religions were in gross ignorance. Even within the last twenty-five years the writer has been in many Armenian villages in which not a person except the priest knew how to read and write, and even his accomplishments ceased with the bare ability to read the ritual of the Church. A leading priest once asked a student who had studied one year in a mission school, “What remains for you to learn after studying an entire year?” Under such a leadership in the Church, and with open opposition to general education among the Turks, it is not surprising that ignorance among the masses became almost universal, with little or no impulse to change.

If the above is true with reference to the education of the men, what could be expected for the girls and women? It is natural that, among the Mohammedans, who accord to women a low place in society and religion, it should have come to be believed in wide areas in the interior of Turkey that women were incapable of learning to read. Among them the vital question calling for early discussion was not, “Shall education be afforded to girls?” but it was, “Can girls learn to read?” This question has been hotly discussed within the last fifty years in the interior of Turkey, with the missionary contending that they can, while leading men of the country have contended with vehemence that the idea was too preposterous to consider. Conviction came only by actual demonstration.

Under such circumstances it is not difficult to imagine the general conditions of society and the deplorable life of the Church. These conditions were more or less modified in the large coast cities like Constantinople and Smyrna, but even in these places, while more educated men were found than in the interior, there was dense ignorance among the masses, and no provision for the education of girls. The entire empire had few newspapers or periodicals of any kind in any language, and the state of education stimulated the production of no great literature, even had there been those capable of producing it. The beginning of the nineteenth century, apart from the revival of learning among the Greeks of the West, may be called the dark age for literature, learning, and religion in the Turkish empire.

Constantinople and Syria were the two centers for Christian work in Turkey among the Oriental churches, because these were the centers of control for all of these churches. The chief patriarch resided at the Porte and was in close touch with his majesty the sultan, while the secondary patriarch resided at Jerusalem, cooperating with his superior at the capital. These churches could best be reached and influenced for evangelical Christianity from the same points.

Missionaries were sent to the ancient churches, not to attack them either in their doctrines or in their practises, but to cooperate with their leaders in organizing a system of education and in creating a sentiment that should demand for the Church an educated and morally upright clergy. It was expected that the Church would accept the modern version of its own Scriptures and encourage its circulation among the people. For the best conduct of a work of this character, the missionaries needed to be in close contact with the centers of ecclesiastical power in all of these churches, that from them the ordinary lines of communication might be utilized in reaching the remote interior districts.

In order that misunderstandings may be cleared up, it should be stated here that missionaries to the Armenians and Greeks were not sent to divide the churches or to separate out those who should accept education and read the Bible in the vernacular. Their one supreme endeavor was to help the Armenians and Greeks work out a quiet but genuine reform in their respective churches. The missionaries made no attacks upon the churches, their customs, or beliefs, but strove by positive, quiet effort to show the leaders how much they lacked and to help them bring about the necessary changes.

For twenty-six years this quiet work went on with no separation, in accordance with the desire of the missionaries, as well as in harmony with the purposes of the Board. When the separation did come, it was in spite of every effort of the missionaries to prevent it. For the successful accomplishment of such a purpose only the centers of ecclesiastical power and influence were available. Only their own leaders could be expected to inaugurate and carry into execution a reform movement which would permeate the Church throughout the empire.

XI. CHRISTIANITY AND ISLAM

The mind of the true Eastern is at once lethargic and suspicious; he does not want to be reformed, and he is convinced that, if the European wishes to reform him, the desire springs from sentiments which bode him no good. Moreover, his conservatism is due to an instinct of self-preservation, and to a dim perception that, if he allows himself to be even slightly reformed, all the things to which he attaches importance will be not merely changed in this or that particular, but will rather be swept off the face of the earth. Perhaps he is not far wrong. Although there are many highly educated gentlemen who profess the Moslem religion, it has yet to be proved that Islam can assimilate civilization without succumbing in the process. It is, indeed, not improbable that, in its passage through the European crucible, many of the distinctive features of Islam, the good alike with the bad, will be volatilized, and that it will eventually issue forth in a form scarcely capable of recognition. “The Egyptians,” Moses said, “whom ye have seen to-day, ye shall see them again no more for ever.” The prophecy may be approaching fulfilment in a sense different from that in which it was addressed to the Israelites.

Look, moreover, not only to the spirit of the lawgivers, but to the general principles on which the laws are based. The tendency in all civilized European States is to separate religious from civil laws. In Moslem States, on the other hand, religious and civil laws are inextricably interwoven.

Look to the consequences which result from the degradation of women in Mohammedan countries. In respect to two points, both of which are of vital importance, there is a radical difference between the position of Moslem women and that of their European sisters. In the first place, the face of the Moslem woman is veiled when she appears in public. She lives a life of seclusion. The face of the European woman is exposed to view in public. The only restraints placed on her movements are those dictated by her own sense of propriety. In the second place, the East is polygamous, the West is monogamous.

It cannot be doubted that the seclusion of women exercises a baneful effect on Eastern society. The arguments on this subject are, indeed, so commonplace that it is unnecessary to dwell on them. It will be sufficient to say that seclusion, by confining the sphere of woman’s interest to a very limited horizon, cramps the intellect and withers the mental development of one half of the population in Moslem countries. An Englishwoman asked an Egyptian lady how she passed her time. “I sit on this sofa,” she answered, “and when I am tired, I cross over and sit on that.” Moreover, inasmuch as women, in their capacities as wives and mothers, exercise a great influence over the characters of their husbands and sons, it is obvious that the seclusion of women must produce a deteriorating effect on the male population, in whose presumed interests the custom was originally established, and is still maintained. —LORD CROMER in “Modern Egypt.”

From the day of its inception until the beginning of the last century, Mohammedanism never came into close, continuous contact with a pure Christianity. Its very beginning was a protest against a Christianity that, in its worship, had all the appearance, at least, of idolatry. The Mohammedan leaders then, as well as in subsequent generations, saw nothing in Christians which made them believe that Christianity could be better than their own religion. The Christianity with which Islam was in conflict was not such a manifestation in the lives and practises of its followers as to compel the intellectual approval of Moslems or even to command their attention. All the churches of Syria, Armenia, and Asia Minor had become worldly and formal, from which had departed the gentle spirit of their Lord, who exalted meekness, truth, purity, and righteousness. As the Mohammedans passed on towards the north and west in their victorious progress, not once did they encounter the strength of Christianity displayed in quiet meekness and forgiving love. In Europe they met the Church in arms and saw in it nothing to compel their respect.

Wherever Mohammedanism has penetrated, it has not come into vital touch with living Christianity. All that the Mohammedan knew of the practical teaching of Jesus Christ, up to the beginning of the last century, he had obtained from observing the Christians whom he conquered and controlled. It is no wonder that he concluded that his own religion was superior, when he saw the intemperance of even the leaders in the Church, and when he took note of what seemed to him to be the worship of pictures and idols. He could not see that the Christian was more truthful, or honest, or pure, than himself; hence he naturally concluded that the Christian religion was no better at least than his own faith.

A traveler in the interior of the empire, and putting up at a caravansary kept by a Mohammedan, asked him if it would be safe to leave his luggage in the outer court. The Mohammedan replied with great earnestness, “Certainly it will be safe, for there is not a Christian living within a three hours’ journey of here.” This incident reveals the opinion of at least one Moslem regarding the power of Christianity to make men honest.

The Mohammedans have never had an adequate opportunity of knowing Jesus Christ as Redeemer and Lord and of becoming his true disciples. They have never seen the true Christ in the face and life of his followers. They have had only a distorted vision of him, dwarfed and disfigured and marred, and in that vision they have seen no form of comeliness and no beauty that they should desire him. It is only in comparatively recent years that an effort has been made to bring to the attention of Islam the fruits of the true Christian life. It is not possible nor is it expected that the experiences and prejudices of twelve hundred years will be overcome in a single generation or even in a century. Such deep-seated convictions can be changed only by prolonged fasting, prayer, and sacrifice. Modern missions in Turkey are an attempt to show to all in that country what true Christianity means in the individual, in the family, and in society. It is not an attempt to convince the Mohammedan by argument that Mohammed is the false prophet and that Jesus Christ is God. Such an attempt would result only in failure. The Mohammedan must be made to see in the lives of the true followers of Jesus that which will give him a clear vision of the Son of man, and lead him to cry out, “My Lord and my God.” I repeat, Mohammedanism has never yet had an opportunity to accept Christ and that we may not expect it to become Christian until the Christian world has demonstrated to it the beauty, love, purity, and power of the true Christian life.

These facts regarding Turkey and the various peoples who comprise its population were not fully known to the early missionaries nor to the officers of the Mission Boards. The country was largely unexplored and the vast interior was almost a _terra incognita_. Mohammedanism was vaguely understood. There was a clear knowledge of the conditions and needs of the Greek Church, but the Armenians and the other races in the remoter interior were but partially understood and only by a few. The most of our knowledge of Arabia, Syria, Eastern Turkey, and the interior of Asia Minor, the customs, beliefs, and lives of the people who dwell there, is the heritage which has come to us from the investigations and reports of missionaries who have traversed in every direction all parts of the country, except sections of Arabia. Many of these, by living among the people for a generation and mastering their language, have been able to speak with the highest authority upon what they have seen and known. We are approaching this question, not with the doubtful knowledge or even gross ignorance of eighty years ago, but with all the light that has come to us from fourscore years of mission operations which now cover practically the entire country.

Never in the history of modern missions has a more difficult and complicated work been undertaken. The questions which entered into the mission problems of the Turkish empire were legion, assuming new phases at every turn and every phase presenting a new difficulty. The one dominant note that runs through it all is the fact of Mohammedan rule. This fact in all its length and breadth must be taken into consideration. Add to this the antiquity of the old churches, the form of Christianity, from which the spirit has fled, the race hatreds, the poverty of the country, the uncertainty of everything that pertains to the government, except that it never fails to be superlatively bad, the conviction of the Moslems that they have seen true Christianity and know it to be as bad as their own government, and we have a few of the difficulties which confronted the early missionaries. On the other hand, there were the encouraging features of the reverence of the Oriental churches, all of them, for the Holy Scriptures, their allegiance to the Church, and their respect for ecclesiastics, to which must be added their superior intelligence, eagerness to learn, and capability for great advancement. Surely Turkey presented a varied scene marked by high lights and dark shadows. Without hesitation, men and women of unusual intellectual and spiritual capacity and breadth, and of indomitable courage, entered this country to win it for Christ and for Christian civilization.

XII. EARLY PIONEERING AND EXPLORATIONS

The elevating influence of the missionaries in Turkey cannot be over-estimated. It is the most hopeful of all the influences which are at work in the empire to-day. Most people at home think of the missionary as a propagandist whose chief endeavor is to win converts to his creed, but on the field he appears as a very different character; he is an educator, a physician, a scientist, a peacemaker, a neighbor, and an example of civilized living. Judged by the numbers added to Protestant churches from the population of the Turkish empire, missions there might be counted a failure, or, at the most, but a partial success; but the making of Protestants is the smallest part of a missionary’s work. 1. The missionary elevates the whole standard of Christian living and thinking. There are in Turkey churches hoary with age—Greek, Armenian, Syrian—in which ignorance, barbarism, superstition, and low morality hold sway. To retain their members in the face of the missionary, these churches find intelligence, purity, spirituality, and civilization necessary, and have been greatly elevated by missionary enterprise. 2. In countries like Turkey, where medical skill is beyond the reach of the mass of the people, the preventable suffering and death are appalling. How eagerly the villagers bring their sick to any stranger in the hope that he may be a physician, almost every traveler can testify. The brightest spots in the country are the missionary medical centers, where untold sufferings are allayed. These range all the way from the village dispensary to the Medical College at Beirut, where one of the world’s best surgeons not only helps the suffering, but teaches others to do it too. 3. The most important phase of missionary work in Turkey is, however, the educational. From humble schools scattered widely through the villages to colleges like Robert College and the Syrian Protestant College at Beirut (which are the fruit of missionary enterprise) most successful efforts are being made, by broad-minded, undenominational methods, to train the young to think, and to induct them into modern science and civilization. The effect of this is already widely apparent, and it is clear that if the day ever comes when Turkey is able to take her place among the nations as a state which appreciates the laws of humanity sufficiently to be trusted, as Japan is now trusted, to control the lives and property of foreigners resident within her limits, it will be because of the civilizing influence of these educational institutions, combined with the lessons in integrity taught by the missionaries’ simple Christian lives. Apart from their work for Turkey, the missionaries have contributed much to science. Archæology owes them large debts in every part of the empire, and, to mention no other fields, the only authoritative work on the botany of Syria is by a missionary. The missionaries are in my opinion working more directly than any other class of men to complete the social evolution of mankind, and to make possible the peaceable federation of the world. —GEORGE A. BARTON, PH. D., Professor of Semitic Languages in Bryn Mawr College, Director of the American School of Oriental Study and Research in Palestine, 1902-1903.

It was no light task to plant missions in a country so little known and extensive as was the Turkish empire at the beginning of the last century. Of the races which made up its large population little was understood except a general knowledge of the Jews and Greeks, and there was much less information regarding the Turks. In accordance with the policy already adopted by the American Board, the early missionaries were sent out to investigate and explore before deciding upon the location of missions and stations and before fixing the exact nature and methods of work.

The instructions given the earlier missionaries to Turkey seldom failed to emphasize the importance of fully examining the different parts of the country and becoming acquainted with the character, beliefs, and characteristics of the different races and peoples which comprise its population. In some cases particular unexplored regions were named as demanding immediate attention. All the early missionaries were directed to report to headquarters, in full detail, the results of their researches and observations.

In the instructions given in 1819 to Pliny Fisk and Levi Parsons, the first missionaries appointed to Turkey, the following passage occurs:

“You will survey with earnest attention the various tribes and classes which dwell in that land and in the surrounding countries. The two grand inquiries ever present in your minds will be, ‘What good can be done?’ and ‘By what means?’ What can be done for the Jews? What for the pagans? What for the Mohammedans? What for the Christians? What for the people in Palestine? What for those in Egypt, in Syria, in Armenia, in other countries to which your inquiry may be extended?”

This single quotation demonstrates the spirit of them all, and reveals the deliberate and far-seeing policy of the Board in inaugurating its missions in Turkey as well as in other countries. Men of the highest ability and broadest vision were selected for missionary appointment and upon them was placed the responsibility of selecting the location of the missions and stations, and deciding the policy and methods of work.

The archives of the Board are rich with the early reports of those first missionaries, who explored with fearlessness and zeal, and observed with discriminating care and precision. They were conscious of the fact that much in the future depended upon the thoroughness of their work and the accuracy and fulness of their reports.