The Pilgrim

The Quarterly Bulletin of the Christian Society for the Study of Hinduism

The Christian Society for the Study of Hinduism

Patrons: The Metropolitan of India, Calcutta Bishop BRENTON T. BADLEY, Delhi.

President: Bishop CLEMENT D. ROCKEY, Lucknow.

Vice-Presidents: The BISHOP of LUCKNOW, Allahabad Dr. A.J. APPASAMY, M.A., Ph.D., Palamcottah. Rev. C.S. THOBURN, M.A., Jabalpur. Rev. G.H.C. ANGUS, M.A., Serampore College.

Secretary: Dr. J.E. McELDOWNEY, Leonard Theological College, Jabalpur

Treasurer: Dr. C.H. HAZLETT, A. P. Mission, Mainpuri, U.P.

Convener, Benares Institute: Rev. R.C. DAS, M.A., Benares United City Mission, Ramkatora, Benares Cantonment.

Committee: Mrs. W. STANLEY GOULD, Ewing Christian College, Allahabad Prof. V.E. DUTT, M.A., B.D., Serampore Mr. PAUL DAS, B.A., N.I.C. Tract and Book Society, Allahabad Rev. J.S. MOON, M.A., Ramkatora, Benares

Editorial Board: Bishop Clement D. Rockey, Dr. A.J. Appasamy Mrs. W.S. Gould Rev. C.G. Diehl (Madras) Dr. J.E. McEldowney Prof. V.E. Dutt Rev. A.M. Ward (Bangalore) Mr. R.C. Das Rev. J.S. Moon (Editor)

The objects of the Christian Society for the Study of Hinduism are,

1. To create and maintain adequate interest in the study of Hinduism by Christians
2. To carry on the study in a sympathetic, constructive and critical way for the purpose of effective evangelism and
3. To achieve the above objects in co-operation with Church and Mission bodies.

The activities of the Society are,

1. To conduct in Benares (and if possible in a South Indian centre) an Institute of Hinduism stressing its popular aspects
2. Publish The Pilgrim, a quarterly bulletin, bearing on Hinduism, its relation To Christianity and work among Hindus and
3. To encourage the organisation of a permanent School of Hinduism.

The minimum annual subscription is Rs. 2/-. Membership fees and gifts may be sent to the treasurer, Dr. C.H. Hazlett, A.P. Mission, Mainpuri, U.P.

Every member will receive The Pilgrim free.

Christ and Christianity in Hindu Radical Criticism

BY ASHANANDA NAG, CALCUTTA

The influence of Christianity in India should be gauged as much, by the opposition it encounters as by the appreciation it receives here and there. Jesus is an imperious Ruler who comes to rule and does rule. This imperious majesty of the Founder of Christianity shocks some while many others it enthrals by its irresistible appeal. Indian criticism cannot afford to leave Christ alone. In recent Hindu polemical literature one reads much that is suggestive of an anti-Christian revolt. This is a welcome sign inasmuch as it proves that Christ has stirred the minds of thoughtful Hindus. Mr. H.G. Wells¹ indulges in the shrewd observation that the enemies of Christ understood Him better than his disciples did. They felt much more keenly than the disciples did that if Christ were taken seriously, the world would be turned upside down. The discordant note which characterises recent Indian criticism of Christ and Christianity is an indication of the explosive influence of the religion of Jesus. The future historian of the Christian Church in India may see in this destructive moment an apparent reaction eventually spending itself and facilitating a better apprehension of the truth it assailed.

It has been said that modern destructive criticism has invented a new problem one which was unknown to the pagan criticism of antiquity. The critic sets out in quest of the Jesus of history and finally declares that this Jesus who is called Christ is non-est. The pious imagination of group of people known as primitive Christians has called into being a figure which it has invested with myths and legends culled from various sources. This is what Drews seeks to prove in his “Christ-myth” and Brandes, in his “Jesus - A myth”. Of late years some Hindu writers have endeavoured to popularise this myth-theory in India. An Indian professor has brought out a book in which the views of Robertson, Drews and Brandes have been epitomised and their conclusions uncritically accepted. This book has received wide publicity in certain anti-Christian journal in India; and the present writer has heard many a University: lecturer swear by it. The book seems to be a patchwork; and accurate scholarship, for which supposed quality the book has been praised in the anti-Christian sections of the Indian press, is conspicuous by its absence.

So unmindful are some of these anti-Christian critics of the value of accuracy in scholarship that they do not care to acquaint themselves with the exact views of the leading authorities on Christology. Writing in the Modern Review of Calcutta, a Hindu writer asserted in all seriousness that Schweitzer was sceptical as to the historicity of Christ and put the Alsatian theologian, in the same group with Robertson, Smith and Brandes. A controversy ensued between him and an Englishman who pointed out that Albert Schweitzer could not possibly be identified with the school of Smith and Drewe. By a clever citation of garbled passages the Hindu proved his point; and the argument was decided in his favour! Taking their cue from Vivekananda, Hindu apologists often say that personality and historicity do not count in religion, ideas alone being of supreme value. They resort to this subterfuge because they are conscious of the defect of Hinduism in this respect. Ideas - good, bad and indifferent - abound in Hinduism which has, however, failed to produce personalities like St. Paul and St. Francis of Assisi. In view of this trend of Hindu apologetics the Christian may find it difficult to understand why Hindu critics take pains to challenge the historicity of Jesus. On their own view historicity is of little or no moment, Their insistence on this point in recent polemics shows that the Hindu mind is beginning to feel that, historical certitude is not so foreign to the value of a religion as Vivekananda makes out. To the Christian, of course, historicity is of supreme importance because God, reveals Himself in history - in that of individuals and nations. When the pleasant excitement of criticising Christianity is over. Hindu critics may feel inclined to bring the same critical apparatus to bear upon their own religion. This process will doubtless be productive of much good.

We have not yet touched upon the main point. The book which the Indian Professor has written needs to be examined; and the best way to proceed is to evaluate the sources upon which he draws for his information. Drews, Brandes and Robertson must be weighed in the balance; and if they are found wanting, their Hindu disciples will fare no better. Robertson lays stress on similarities between primitive Christianity and certain pagan cults. Drews and Brandes emphasise Buddhist and Christian parallels. It is this aspect of the myth theory which appeals most to the anti-Christian Hindu critic. Similarities do not prove dependence. The theories of Brandes and Drews suggest that primitive Christians knew Buddhist legends and made use of them in their elaboration of the Christ-myth. In a subsequent part of this article it will be shown that the influence of Buddhism upon the development of primitive Christianity was nil. In his learned dissertation on “The Origin and the Affinities of the Essenes” Lightfoot has proved to demonstration that the knowledge of Buddhism prevalent in the Graeco-Roman world at the beginning of the Christian era was of the vaguest kind. The earliest Christian writer who exhibits any knowledge of Buddhism is Clement of Alexandria. In his “Stromata” he refers to Buddha and the Buddhist monks; but his references do not entitle us to conclude that he was acquainted with Buddhist legends and doctrines. So far as similarities are concerned, they are interesting inasmuch as they prove that Christianity gathers into itself the tendencies of pagan faiths and gives them a new meaning. It is no reflection upon Christianity that it should have incorporated certain elements of the mystery-religions. Robertson and Brandes draw our attention to similarities between Christianity and pagan cults. But the differences are more striking, and they should not be lost sight of. Even if we grant the premises of Brandes and Robertson, they do not warrant the conclusion that Christ is a myth. They by no means affect the historicity of Jesus.²

But these arguments are in the main destructive and, as such, on a par with those which Robertson, Drews and Brandes advance in support of their position. There are external evidences which throw valuable light on the historicity of Jesus. Josephus has three references which have often been pressed into the service of Christian apologetics. There is one passage where he refers to Jesus and calls Him “a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure.” Drews and Brandes call in question the genuineness of this passage, and perhaps they are right. But it should be noted that eminent scholars like Harnack and Burkitt pronounce for the authenticity of this passage. One may pardon Drews who wrote his book long ago. But it is difficult to extenuate the partiality of Brandes who leaves his reader in ignorance as to the opinions of Harnack and Burkitt. Brandes quotes a French medical man and even Anatole France on Christology but does not think it worth his while to state in his book what Harnack, whose opinion does count thinks. That shows the spirit in which the book is written, Waiving this passage, we have two more to fall back upon. In his Antiquities (XX. 9. I) Josephus makes mention of James, “the brother of Jesus who was called the Christ.” Critical scholarship is almost unanimous as to the reliability of this passage. That Brandes and his school should be discreetly silent about this passage is a forgone conclusion. There is yet a third reference which is not altogether without a bearing upon the historicity of Christ, Josephus says “The Jews supposed that the destruction of Herod’s army was the penalty expressly inflicted upon him by God to avenge John” (Ant. XVIII). Here certainly John the Baptist is meant; and this mention adds a link to the chain of proof. Tacitis writes of “Christ who in the reign of Tiberius had suffered death by the sentence of the procurator Pontus Pilate.” Brandes rejects this passage on grounds which would hardly commend themselves to a serious student of history. Gibbon who cannot be accused of Christian bias is convinced of the genuineness of this passage and states his reasons which are more worthy of consideration than the flimsy one of Brandes (Recent scholarship confirms the authenticity of the text of the Annales).

There is other evidence which, although It may play into the hands of anti-Christian critics, goes to prove that Christ is historical. Since the publication of Schweitzer’s Quest of the Historical Jesus the value of eschatology in our interpretation of primitive Christianity has been increasingly recognised. The primitive Christians were daily expecting the return of the Lord; and they clung to that expectation in spite of many disappointments. This eschatological outlook cannot be explained if we assume with Brandes and Drewe that Jesus is a myth. The absurdity of myth-theory was apparent to Schopenhaner who repudiated it precisely on this ground. This myth theory is a new invention for which Strauss³ is partly responsible. Drews and Brandes have sought to popularise it causing the unwary to fall into their snare. The Gnostics propounded their docetic views but did not challenge the historicity of Christ. Celsus, Lucian, Porphyry and Hierocles might have turned the theory to account had it occurred to them that Christ after all might not have been historical.

Jesus is not the invention of Christianity, but the Christian faith requires an historical Jesus for its explanation. It is strange that our Hindu critics who make it their business to popularise this myth-theory should pit Buddha against Christ. The Christian may, claim that the historicity of Christ is better established than that of Buddha. Senart, the Strauss⁴ of Indology, propounds the theory that the story of Buddha is an elaboration of the sun-myth. Oldenberg’s criticism of Senart and his discussion of the Buddha - problem fail to convince one who is acquainted with the corresponding problem in Christology. There is no reference to Buddha in, contemporary non-Buddhist literature. The passage in the Ramayana is dubious and of uncertain date. Megasthenes does not even so much as mention him. Some passages in the Shanti-bhavan of the Mahabharata are interpreted by orthodox Hindus as referring to the atheistic views of the Buddhists. But Buddha is not mentioned by name in those passages, and it is by no means certain that the views expressed in those passages were those of primitive Buddhism. It is moreover extremely difficult to date the passages with any degree of accuracy. The reference to Buddhist relics in the Mahabharata is certainly post-Ashoka. The passage could not have been written before Buddhism established itself as the principal religion of ancient India. The earliest reference to Buddha outside Buddhist literature seems to be a casket-inscription, but there is an interval of more than two-hundred years between the assumed date of Buddha and the date of this inscription. The casket-inscription is Buddhistic. The inscriptions of Ashoka are those of a devout follower of Buddhism. There is hardly any early reference to Buddha in non-Buddhist literature. The Founder of Christianity has been mentioned by more than one pagan writer of antiquity.

It is plain that scepticism as to the historicity of Jesus will have far-reaching consequences. If we carried the myth-theory to its logical conclusion, we should be throwing into confusion a lot of literature and facts. How are we to explain the momentous line “that which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you”. How to explain Irenacus writing of Polycarp’s “intercourse with John and the rest of those who had seen the Lord”. If we assume that Christ is a myth, then these lines will have to be brushed away as instances of pious fraud practised by the primitive Christians But other evidences would instantly crop up to baffle the sceptic. Why does Lucian, the Voltaire of antiquity, speak of that great man of theirs (Christians) who was put on a gibbet in Palestine? How to account for the fact that Porphyry, that learned opponent of Christianity, who was by no means devoid of historical sense, (as is evident from his criticism of the Book of Daniel and other books of the Bible) had nothing to say against the historicity of Christ?

J.M. Robertson, an English champion of the myth-theory, detects the influence of the Krishna-myth in a certain incident in connection with the life of Christ. It would be worth our while to examine his position as it is rather interesting to Christians in India. Robertson has unfortunately been misrepresented by his critics with the result that no relevant criticism has yet been made of his view. Dr. Schweitzer does him an injustice when he remarks that ‘according to J.M. Robertson, the Christ-myth is merely a form of the Krishna-myth’. This is exactly what Robertson⁵ does not say. Robertson only contends that the Lukan account of taxation (Luke 2:1) is based upon the story of Nanda, the foster-father of Krishna, who went to Mathura to pay his tax. To the present writer this view seems to be absurd on the face of it for reasons more than one. The Lukan account is not altogether without some historical foundation. Ramsay and Deissman have thrown much light upon it, and it is not so easy to call in question the general accuracy of Luke, on this point. Let us now turn to the Indian story. No serious critic suggests that it has an iota of historical truth. Apart from the question of the historical accuracy of Luke, it may be urged that the Gospel version of “taxation” is more ancient than the Indian story. The Lucan account is as old as the first century of the Christian era. We find Justin Martyr and Clement of Alexandria alluding to it in the second century, the former mentioning the census of Quirinius and the latter referring to the census under Augustus. The Indian story of Nanda going to Mathura to pay his tax to Kansa is mentioned in the Vishnupurana and the Bhagavata. No reference to this story can be traced in Indian literature of pre-Christian era. The Bhagavata belongs to the fourth century, of the Christian era or even to a later period. The historian of India takes no account of Kanga who belongs to mythology rather than to a sober story. What ever may be the value of the first five verses of the second chapter of Luke, the historian must reckon with Augustus and Quirinius. The Lukan account has historicity and chronological priority on its side. If Robertson and his followers insist on their theory, we may tell them that the author of the third Gospel is without doubt the creditor.

In Hindu criticism of Christianity one comes across nothing that was not anticipated by the pagan critics of antiquity. If the Christian faith has survived the attacks of its Hellenic assailants, it will not fare any worse under Hindu criticism. It is often asserted by Hindu critics that Christianity shines with the reflected light of Buddhism. Here the onslaught, of Celsus repeats itself with a slight change of emphasis. Did he not insinuate that Christ plagiarised the thoughts of Greek philosophers? The Hindu charge, however, takes various forms. We are sometimes asked to believe that Christ learnt Buddhism at a monastery in Tibet. It may be well to note here that this kind of Hindu criticism is not quite original.

It is a rehearsal prompted by a European writer. Hindu criticism of Christianity is seldom original. It is in most cases the result of a blind acceptance of the views of certain European writers. Early in the nineties of last century a Russian traveller of the name of Nikolas Notowitsch brought out a book which purported to be an account of the unknown life of Christ. Issa was a saint; and in him dwelt the spirit of the Most High. He came to India and visited the centres of Brahmanism and Buddhism. He taught the Indians and many Hindus and Buddhists marvelled at his teachings. He denounced the Vedas and preached the brotherhood of man. The Brahmins were jealous of him and made an attempt upon his life. Issa acquainted himself with Brahminic wisdom and Buddhist lore. This is the theme of the book in a nutshell. While this startling publication was pronounced a forgery by scholars in Europe, it was read, marked and digested from cover to cover by many a Hindu intellectual. The book appeared more than a quarter of a century ago; but it still retains its influence upon the Hindu mind. It has been laid under contribution by the writer of the article on Jesus Christ in the fifteenth volume of the Bengali encyclopedia which is entitled Viswakosha. Another well-known Bengali book of reference mentions with approval the view of Notowitsch. In the course of conversation a distinguished Hindu missionary, the founder of the New York Vedanta Society, told the present writer that he believed Christ learnt Buddhism in the land of the Lamas. The fact that the book of the Russian traveller has been taken seriously by the Hindu literate is a proof of their credulity which is by no means rare in this Age of Enlightenment. The will-to-believe makes its influence felt. The book has a palpable lie for its theme, and it bears all the marks of a forgery. Confusion marks the beginning of the book; and at the end the confusion becomes worse confounded. Evidences, internal and external alike, combine to expose the fabrication. “Nikolas Notowitsch finds in Luke 1:80,” Schweitzer pertinently remarks, a “gap in the life of Jesus in spite of the fact that this passage refers to John the Baptist.” A little attention to the facts of Indian history would give the Hindu disciples of Notowitsch pause. There was no Buddhism in Tibet before the seventh century of the Christian era; and Bhutan saw the introduction of Buddhism only three or four centuries back. How could Jesus take lessons in Buddhism at a monastery in Tibet⁶ when the very name of Buddha was unknown in that country?

In the history of the Essenes many. Hindu critics of Christianity spy a vulnerable point. They have a vague notion that some European scholars think that Christ was an Essene. They welcome this bit together with the theory which makes Essenism a mere reproduction of Buddhism on Jewish soil. Arthur Lillie, the author of India in Primitive Christianity⁷ propounds the theory that Christianity is a Jewish version of Buddhism and asserts that the Essenes were Buddhists. It is Lillie’s view which Hindu critics repeat without any discrimination.

Our present knowledge of the Essenes is based mainly upon what Philo, Josephus and Pliny tell us about that sect. From such information as it is available from the accounts of these writers it is hardly permissible to draw the conclusion that Buddhism influenced the Essenes. It is indeed true that some scholars have argued for the theory of Buddhist influence. But it is not certain that they do not labour under a misconception as to the basic principles of Buddhism. It is agreed on all hands that the Essenes were essentially a Jewish sect. But there were certain elements in Essenism which were probably of extra-Jewish origin. So far as the sources of these non-Jewish elements are concerned, there is no unanimity among scholars. It must, of course, be borne in mind that some competent writers on the subject say that there are no non-Jewish elements in Essenism. Writing in the Jewish Encyclopaedia on the origin and tenets of the Essenes, Kohler takes the view that the Essenes were simply the rigorists among the Pharisees, and has no patience with those who suggest that non-Hebraic influences were at work in connexion with Essenism. Neander thought that the non-Jewish elements of Essenism were Parsic and Chaldaic. Zeller pronounced in favour of Neo-Pythagoreanism. The Neo-Pythagorean theory of Zeller and the Buddhist hypothesis of Hilgenfeld do not impress Lightfoot who is inclined to think that the foreign elements in Essenism were of Zoroastrian origin. Julicher is convinced of the essentially Jewish spirit of Essenism but is not reluctant to assign to Neo-Pythagoreanism some share in the development of the Essenic sect. Cheyne enters a protest against the suggestion of Pythagorean influence but admits the presence of Persian and Babylonian elements in Essenism. Conybeare ascribes the rise of the Essenic sects to the introduction and diffusion of Greek culture in the early part of the second century. In recent years Prof, James Moffatt has given the question a new turn. He suggests the possibility of Buddhist influence, although he somewhat hesitates to commit himself to the view that Buddhism influenced the Essenes.

Of all writers on Essenism the least convincing are those who contend for Buddhist influence.⁸ A serious difficulty attaches to the theory which says that Buddhism influenced Essenism. How could Buddhism make its influence felt when the Essenic sect arose Ashoka informs us that he sent missionaries to the kingdom of the Ptolemies; but Greek and Jewish writers make no mention of this fact. Some European authorities (e.g., Rhys Davids) discredit this part of the Ashokan edict and tell us that Ashoka is here only indulging in self-glorification. Without accepting the sceptical views of these European scholars we may justly entertain grave doubts as to the measure of success achieved by Ashoka’s missionaries. No prominence is given to India in the Old Testament literature⁹. Its Indian references give us the impression that the influence of India upon Jewish thought was negligible. Indian wares were better known in Palestine than Indian thought. The rites and tenets of the Essenes had nothing specifically Buddhist about them. Their asceticism was as different from Buddhist monasticism as Protestant discipline is unlike medieval austerity. The money they spent represented their own earnings; and they were reluctant to live upon alms, features which were unknown in Buddhist monasticism. They were clad in white. Had they come under the influence of Buddhism, they would certainly have preferred the yellow robe. No Buddhist element is discernible in the theory and practice of Essenism. It is, on the other hand, patent that the Essenes were Jewish to the backbone. They sent gifts to the Temple; and their attitude towards sacrifices is easily explicable without assumption of Buddhist influence. They did not renounce their Jewish theism, upon which they based their conception of the brotherhood of man (a passage from Philo has been thus interpreted by Neander and Kohler). They meditated upon the Jewish scriptures and had profound reverence for the Book of the Law. So great was their regard for Moses that any member of their order who traduced his name was in danger of losing his life. The theory of Buddhist influence has nothing to recommend it. On account of the theistic character of Essenism it would be more plausible to hold that Brahminic influences were in operation. That theory would be more specious than the Buddhist hypothesis. But any suggestion of Indian influence raises more difficulties than the thesis of Neander, Zeller and Conybeare, If extra Jewish influences are to be at all admitted, the case would be explained better by the theory of Neander plus that of Conybeare than by the hypothesis suggested by Moffatt. In spite of recent advances in Buddhist studies the arguments of Lightfoot against the theory of Hilgenfeld have not yet lost their force. They may have now become slightly irrelevant by reason of the fact that the Buddhist hypothesis was, as Moffatt informs us, eventually abandoned by Hilgenfeld.

On the authority of an American writer it was asserted in an Indian paper that the Gospel stories were modelled on their Buddhist parallels. The parallels cited on the Buddhist side were far-fetched; and those which had a semblance of similarity were such as could easily be explained by reference to Old Testament precedents. This theory of Buddhist influence had won the favour of Hindu critics; and the vagaries of some orientalists lend support to it. We may dismiss the conclusions of these Indologists on the ground that their views are as crude as their methods, which are not half so stringent as those of the biblical critic. We may think that the question of Buddhism versus Christianity is one on which the New Testament scholar has the final say. It is true that biblical critics have hitherto taken no notice of the views of Indologists. It may not be absurd to suppose that the biblical knowledge of Indologists is not always very accurate and trustworthy. But the controversy assumes a different character when a biblical scholar like Estlin Carpenter enters the lists and announces that the Lucan story of Simeon appears to be a Christian adaptation of its Buddhist parallel. To the exclusion of other alleged similarities Indological scholarship fixes upon the Simeon narrative and pronounces it to be a copy of the Buddhist tale of Asita. Winternitz, who believes that Buddhist influence upon the Gospels is in the main unrecognisable, makes an exception in the case of the Lucan account of Simeon. Prof. Rudlof Seydel formulated a somewhat similar view, but the redeeming feature of his thesis was the stress he laid upon the fact that the Christian Gospel “transformed, purified and ennobled the material taken from the foreign but related literature by a kind of rebirth inspired by the Christian spirit.”

An impartial student of the Buddhist and the Christian scriptures cannot but endorse this remark. Whatever may be the relation between the Buddhist tale of Asita and the Christian story of Simeon, one cannot fail to recognise that the latter is less grotesque and more exalted than the former. We need not go into the details of the Buddhist fable which is found in the Sutta-nipata, the Avidurenidana and the Lalitavistara. The long and the short of the story is this. A sage called Asita visits the infant Buddha and predicts the universality of his mission. He sheds tears as he is too old to be his disciple but enjoined his nephew to become a follower of Buddha. The affiliation of the Simeon narrative to this Buddhist tale does not rest upon any historical fact but mainly upon the conjecture of the advocates of that theory. In strict fairness to Indology it should be stated that many votaries of that branch of knowledge take a saner view of the question. Oldenberg, for instance, is of the opinion that the Lucan account of Simeon is in no way dependent upon the Buddhist tale of Asita. Let us now examine the contention of Winternitz and Carpenter. Does the Christian narrative betray any sign of Buddhist influence? Almost all the verses and almost all the words in the Simeon section have a Jewish ring, and most of them are reminiscent of Old Testament parallels. There is not a single word in the whole story which is indicative of Buddhist influence. “The ideas of the hymns which this portion of the Gospel contains,” says Adeney in his introduction to St, Luko, “the Magnificat, the Nunc dimittis, etc. - are as Hebraistic as their language. They are couched entirely in Old Testament thought and imagery. There is nothing in them which could not have been derived from the Hebrew psalmists and prophets.”

We have already touched on the Lucan story of Simeon and its alleged dependence on the Buddhist tale of Asita. We have seen that any suggestion of Buddhist influence is untenable on account of the Hebraic character of the Lucan narrative. It would be worth our while now to go into detail and knock the bottom out of the theory of Buddhist influence. The conjectured similarities in the Lucan account have been overemphasised to the exclusion of differences which are more fundamental, Asita comes out of a place which geography takes no cognisance of - a mythical region which exists only in the fertile imagination of the Buddhist cosmogonist. The antecedents of Asita are shrouded in myth. To Simeon, on the other hand, Luke assigns a place and life which are quite within the range of historicity. He lives at Jerusalem and devoutly waits for the appearance of the Messiah. The Holy Spirit gives him illumination and takes him to the temple so that his eyes may see, and his hands may handle the Saviour of the world. Asita receives his intimation as he hears the god of Indian mythology shout and rejoice. Simeon is filled with joy and gratitude as he beholds the Holy Child. Into his mouth Luke puts words which for their simple dignity have no parallel in Buddhist literature. Asita weeps and utters a verse which every literary critic must pronounce to be a little laboured. The theory of Buddhist influence is to a certain extent based upon the assumption that the Lucan narrative belongs to mythology rather than to history. Should sceptical criticism succeed in proving that the Simeon-story is mythical, even then it would be absurd to postulate Buddhist influence. That Simeon should recognise in the Infant Jesus the Redeemer of mankind need not in the least surprise us. When Luke wrote his treatise, Christianity had already taken the initial step towards its world-mission. Given the Messianic idea, the story would have gathered, without any suggestion from extra-Jewish sources, round a person in whom his followers saw the fulfilment of the Messianic hope.

Prof. Richard Garbe and Mr. Albert d. Edmunds (The Monist, Chicago, Oct., 1914) think that the proof afforded by the Simeon story is not by itself strong enough to indicate Buddhist influence. In their opinion, Buddhist influence becomes evident when the story is taken in conjunction with the angelic hymn (Luke 2:8-14). Here Garbe and Edmunds escape Scylla and fall into Charybdis. The angelic hymn is as Hebraic as the story in which Simeon figures. Both the former and the latter are reminiscent of the Old Testament. One will get the required references in any commentary. We need not make Luke borrow from Buddhist sources. Mention of angelic appearances is to be found in some books of the Old Testament which are admittedly older than the oldest Buddhist book. It should moreover be noted that there is not the slightest similarity between the angelic hymn of Luke and the song of the gods which occurs in the Suttanipata. The writers whose views we have just discussed also mention three other Gospel incidents which, in their opinion, betray signs of Buddhist origin. We shall examine only one of these three. The remaining two we shall ignore as they could be cited as parallels only by ingenuity run mad. We read in the Buddhist books that Buddha was tempted by Mara who pressed him to go back to the kingdom he had left and to assume its rulership. This at once suggests to our mind the account which Luke (IV, 5-8) gives of the second temptation of Christ. Is the evangelical account based upon the Buddhist story? There is no similarity between the Buddhist legend and the Lucan narrative except that the idea of kingship is prominent in both the accounts. The second temptation (i.e., according to Luke) represents a critical stage in the development of Christ’s Messianic consciousness. We know that there was a political side to the Messianic expectation. Any suggestion of Buddhist influence is ruled out when we consider the second temptation of Christ in the light of the then prevailing conception of the Messiah.

Was Jesus influenced by Buddhism? This question is answered in the affirmative by Hindu and Buddhist writers. Their attitude is not, however, based upon a study of the original sources. They take Arthur Lillie and Albert J. Edmunds as their authorities; and their religious antipathies confirm them in their adherence to the theory of Buddhist influence. It is not a bad thing to be influenced by a lofty religion like Buddhism. But all the available evidences must be weighed before we persuade ourselves that the Founder of Christianity came under Buddhist influence. If it could be proved that Buddhist ideas were in the air in Palestine; and if it could be established that Jesus made use of specifically Buddhist thoughts in His teachings, then and then only should we be justified in saying that Christ was indebted to the religion of Gotama. The flimsy proofs that have so far been adduced by the Buddhist enthusiasts of the west and their docile eastern followers break down when criticism is brought to bear upon them. People living in the Mediterranean area know next to nothing of Buddhism; and in early Christian: literature the first mention of this Indian religion is to be found in the writings of Clement of Alexandria (third century A.D.) On the authority of Lightfoot, who had an extensive knowledge of classical literature, it may be stated that in the whole range of Greek and Latin literature no direct mention of Buddha or Buddhism is found before Clement.¹⁰ We find it difficult to agree with Emil Schurer who, although he rejects the theory of Buddhist influence in connection with Essenism, makes the plausible observation that the writings of Megasthenes might have diffused some knowledge of Buddhism among the Greek-speaking Jews. It is a mistake to think that the Indian treatise of Megasthenes spread Buddhist knowledge in the Graeco-Roman World.

The Greek ambassador does not even so much as mentioned Buddha in his book. The Sarmanes referred to by Megasthenes cannot be identified with Buddhist monks. Prof. I.W. Rhys Davids puts forward an untenable theory when he says that the Sarmanes were Buddhist mendicants. He points out that Ashoka in his inscriptions uses the word samana in the sense of Buddhist almsmen. This argument is hardly decisive. In the description which Megasthenes gives of that class there is nothing to justify the view of Rhys Davids. It should be borne in mind that, the word Sramana was used in Sanskrit literature to denote a particular order of Hindu ascetics. Either Megasthenes was misinformed or he had the Hindu ascetics in mind. It is interesting to note that Prof. Edwyn Bevan takes the same view in The Cambridge History of India (Vol. I, p. 420).

Such notices of Buddhism as we do find in Greek literature only go to prove that the knowledge, possessed by Greek writers, of Buddha and Buddhism was most shadowy and vague. To the credit of Lightfoot be it said that he called the attention of Buddhist enthusiasts to this fact half a century, ago. The researches of Prof. T.Y. Rhys. Davids led him to the same conclusion. But this hint evidently has been given no heed in certain quarters. We still find some writers basing their theory of Buddhist influence upon the impetus which the Indian accounts of Greek writers are supposed to have given to the diffusion of Buddhist knowledge in the Mediterranean countries: “Were the Greeks” asks Mr. A. J, Edmunds, “less curious than the Chinese who had the Buddhist books translated into their language?” The insinuation is as meaningless as the answer is plain. No Greek of pure descent embraced Buddhism, so far as we can gather from available historical information. Some Bactrian Greeks no doubt adopted the Buddhist faith; but whether they had their religious books translated into Greek, we have no means of knowing. Speculation is worse than useless in view of the absence of reliable evidences. The Besnagar inscription which records the pious act of a Greek convert to Hinduism is written in an Indian language. The Bactrian King Menander converses with the Buddhist monk Nagasena in the Pali tongue. No Greek translations of the Buddhist scriptures have yet been discovered.

It has been shown (Garuda Upanishad 4) that Indian influence upon Jewish thought was nil. All the Indian references in Old Testament literature, canonical and apocryphal, are of a semi-political kind. None of them indicates the presence of even the slightest trace of Indian thought. From the otherwise lost fragment of Megasthenes, which has been preserved for us by Clement of Alexandria, it is possible to know that the Greek ambassador thought that ‘all that was said about nature by the ancients was said also by those who philosophised beyond Greece, some things by the Brahmins among the Indians and others called Jews in Syria’ (Stromata, translated by Wilson, Book I, Chapter XV.) One notes with interest that a cultured Greek of the fourth century B.C. found Hebrew thought analogous in some respects to Brahmanic speculation. Prof. Kaogi in his Rigveda has given us many Vedic passages which recall similar verses of the Bible. But the similarities in these cases are not striking enough to suggest any borrowing on either side. An exception might, however, be made in the case of the eighth chapter (vv. 12-13) of The Proverbs which is strangely similar to its Vedic parallel (Rg. 10. 125). It goes without saying that the Biblical passage is nobler and more philosophical than its Vedic counterpart which is characterised by a primitive crudity. It is not necessary to go beyond the limits of Semitic literature to look for the origin of the Logos-idea. “Germs of the Logos-idea have been claimed in early Babylonian conceptions of the Word.” The conception of the word in its embryonic state may be found in the more primitive sections of the Old Testament, It may nevertheless be necessary to admit that Greek influence contributed its share towards the development of the idea of Wisdom. But the passage in question registered a new achievement of the Hebrew mind - an almost original creation which marks a distinct improvement upon its alleged prototypes.¹¹

(To be continued)

The Message of Tukaram

REV J.F. EDWARDS, POONA.

A Religious Outsider

Tukaram of Dehu: (1608-1649) provides us with a good example of the religious life of the individual among Hindus. Institutions and movements have their own importance, but if we are to measure the value of any religion it must be tested by its value to the individual, and Tukaram offers us an ideal opportunity for studying Hindu bhakti by the biographical method. Moreover, Tukaram was a very special kind of individual, for he belonged to the type of religious outsider whose number is fast increasing in the Indian society of today among those thinking people who can no longer accept many of the things for which their traditional religion stands, but who have not yet cut themselves off from the recognised systems. If we would fully understand these people, who are found in larger number probably in the advanced social conditions of Western India than in any other part of India. We need to master our Tukaram. If we read him carefully we shall discover just exactly where the spiritual need of such people lies. “I am caught in such a strait that my intellect and force are reft away” he cries. “I know my faults, but I cannot control my mind.” Therefore, it may be said with truth that all attempts to classify Tukaram have failed. He was neither an easy-going Hindu, nor an orthodox Hindu, nor a Hindu Protestant. He lived according to the rules of a religious system with much of which he disagreed, while he had an experience transcending the system. Spiritual intercourse with God and his “saints” was the sum and substance of Tukaram’s religion. He belongs therefore to none of the stereotyped forms, and to be understood and appreciated at his proper worth he must be approached without any kind of dogmatic prejudice. Those who have no definite creed and who follow no organised system find in him a kindred spirit. Yet he cannot be classed as mystic, for he had no extraordinary visions, and he followed Hindu rules of living. We may regard him as an earnest devbhakta living his own inward life amid idolatrous surroundings. Dr. I.B. Glover aptly compares him with Madame Guyon, the French mystic of the same century, with whom he has affinities, (Jesus in the Experience of Men p. 40). It is impossible therefore to place Tukaram in any of the usual categories. The Rev. G.R. Navalkar, the Marathi grammarian, said, “The Prarthana Samajists have transformed Tukaram into a deist, who believes in nothing but the unity and supremacy of a personal God; and the Vedantists represent Tukaram as a Transcendentalist, to whom the deity was a vast abstraction and the universe a dream; some Christians would regard Tukaram as almost a Christian believer.”. Tukaram the Maharastrian Poet and Saint.

Antidote to Indian Atheism

That Tukaram belongs to the religious outsiders does not mean, however, that he is outside all religion like an increasing number of his fellow-countrymen today. On the contrary we believe Tukaram to belong so emphatically to the class of people who are called ‘God-intoxicated’ that he offers an antidote of a valuable kind to the atheistic tendency of so many thinking people in present day India. If this diagnosis of India seems gloomy, let us quote the Lindsay Commission in its 1931 Report: “Hinduism and Islam are largely losing their hold over the mind of the ordinary student and are being replaced by an irreligious materialism; there is little in either Hinduism or Islam which can resist the irreligious influences of economic and psychological determinism.” (The Christian College in India, p. 148). The Report speaks of the setting in of a strong current among the educated elements of even this traditionally religious people towards what has been called secularism or “anti-religion.” This tendency is much more marked in some provinces than in others. It is perhaps most strongly evident in Bombay Presidency and least so in Bengal. The political aspect of this anti-religious movement may be traced in the exclusion of the religious question altogether from the Nehru plan for an Indian Constitution and in the attitude to religion of such an outstanding leader of the younger India as Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru. The Youth League of which he is the leading figure does no more in its constitution than state that it aims at fighting communalism and “working for the abolition of antiquated social and religious customs,” but, as a biographer of Pandit Jawaharlal says, this states its ideals “rather euphemistically.” The same writer describes the League as an organism to fight religion, and that, no doubt, represents the spirit that inspires many of its adherents. One may certainly say, in the words of a leading Arya Samajist, one concerned just as the Christian educationalist is to promote religion, that the young men of India today are more occupied with “the outward polish” of life than with its inward religious springs. (Ibid pp. 46-47).

In the second chapter of his wonderful Marathi poem called the Christayan, Narayan Vaman Tilak ascribes to India the following phrase, “enthroned as guru of the earth.” If this high place is to be won and retained by India we need to guard against the growing tendency among India’s educated people to leave the heart’s throne empty after having dethroned whatever false gods may have occupied it hitherto. Every one of us must welcome every sign of insurrection against any form of religion that may be false and unworthy, and no doubt much of the religious rebellion in India today is against degrading and unworthy ideas of God. But some forms of India’s insurrection against religion are against religion in any form, both false and true. They are like a South Indian paper a few years ago that revolted “against both heaven and hell, both God and Satan.” That the shrine in the soul of young India today is too often an empty shrine was shown by the letters which Gandhiji said he received from young men throughout India about the void that their unbelief has created in their lives. It is here that the reading and study of Tukaram’s poem will bring a corrective to many godless tendencies in India today. To the first five stanzas below Dr. Macnicol gives the title ‘God is ours’ and to the last four, ‘I long to see Thy face,’

    God is our, yea, ours is he,
    Soul of all the souls that be.
    God is nigh without a doubt,
    Nigh to all, within, without.
    God is gracious, gracious still;
    Every longing he'll fulfil
    God protects, protects his own;
    Strife and death he casteth down.
    Kind is God, ah, kind indeed;
    Tuka be will guard and lead.

    I long to see thy face,
    But ah, in me hath holiness no place,
    But thy strength succour me,
    So only, only I thy feet may see!
    Though Sadhu's robes I've worn,
    Within I'm all unshaven and unshorn.
    Lost, lost, 0 God am I,
    Unless thou help me, Tuka, me who cry?

Advice to Preachers

Tukaram, indeed, on occasion gives sound advice to preachers and this advice has something of constructive worth today. In his day, earnest and sincere preachers were badly needed, for there were impostors who drank and who did even worse: ‘Their desires are set on pots and shawls and money.’ ‘They shall not escape hell,’ says Tuka. Some preachers there were who did not practise what they preached. ‘There are many people who follow crooked paths and yet point out straight paths to others.’ Inspiration and personal religious experience are as necessary to a preacher as practical sincerity: ‘If God ceases to speak to a man, he ought to be silent; Tuka says, “People act very differently when God has ceased to speak to them, they go on talking about Him.”’ And the preacher must be energetic in his preaching: ‘If a man stands up to preach and spares his energy, who can measure his guilt?’ As for the preacher’s message, it must ever force home the question: ‘Are you in need of God?’ And Tukaram’s prayer must ever be the preacher’s prayer ‘If I have polluted my tongue, O purify me.’

Tukaram Never Systematic

It needs to be emphasised, however, that in all his teaching and preaching Tukaram is never systematic. Indeed, he is not infrequently self-contradictory. He oscillates between a Dvaitist (or Dualist) and an Advaitist (or Pantheistic) view of God and the world, leaning now to a Pantheistic scheme of things, now to a distinctly Providential, and he does not harmonise them. According to him, God realises Himself in the devotion of His worshippers: ‘It is our faith that makes thee a god’, he says boldly to his Vithoba. ‘God becomes what we make Him’: a very limited view indeed. On the other hand, God makes Himself accessible to man’s feeble apprehension by means of visibility, the idol thus becoming a proof of divine condescension: ‘He has embodied Himself in forms to suit our pleasure.’ Man is a child of God. Indeed, the figure of childhood and that of God as Mother are perhaps pressed too far, though they solve many of his perplexities and supply the most Christian element in his conception of the soul’s relation to God. But separation has entered, sin being viewed sometimes as a mere breaking of caste rules, sometimes a breach of morality, and again, and very often, mipana, a word often on his lips and perhaps best rendered by ‘self-centredness,’ though this is inadequate. Brahmanical or mystic intuition and verbal theology: were deprecated as much as austerities. Men should waste no time in argument but throw themselves at God’s feet: ‘Disputation has turned to waste the places of Brahmindom.’ Everything is worthless save a personal experience of religion. Tukaram’s ‘good man’ must possess humility, teachableness, kindness, truthfulness, contentment and simplicity. The opposite type is seen in sloth, lust, quarrelsomeness, meanness, false pretence of piety, gambling and lying. He is mostly despondent of his fellow-men: ‘I am sick of mankind;’ and for relief he turned to ‘the saints’ about whom he has hundreds of verses setting forth their calling, character and service to mankind.

Shortcomings

Unless the workers and members of India’s Theistic Church in the Prarthana Samaj give themselves to a more critical study of Tukaram they will be unable to fulfil one of the most important aspects of their religious duty to Tukaram’s people; that is, they will not be able to apply the necessary corrective to Tukaram’s message. Indian interpreters have themselves pointed out that while Tukaram was well in advance of his time on some truths, yet in others he was very defective. The late Prof. W.B. Patwardhan felt Tukaram’s view of life ‘was at best one-sided’ and that his view appeared to ignore more than half of our life. The late Dr. Prabhokarrao Bhandarkar, one of the most diligent of Tukaram’s students, wrote that ‘Tukaram, speaks of women in a manner which is far from dignified.’ Dr. Prabhakarrao also pointed out that, while Tukaram’s introspection was of a rare quality, his example concerning women was one which would make it impossible for the women of modern India to attain to self-realisation.

Ambiguity

Probing a little deeper we may say that Tukaram acquiesced in the greater part of the conventional Hinduism of his day while himself living on a loftier plane. Often therefore he speaks with two voices. Temple ceremonies he does not condemn, but his heart aspires to something higher. About Vithoba, however, there is no kind of ambiguity, for, as an incarnation of Krishna or Vishnu, Vithoba was the bigger half of Tukaram’s spiritual life, though again faith was always the channel, though some people might call it credulity. ‘Tukaram was a devotee only of Vithoba of Pandharpur and a monotheist in this sense. Though he worshipped the idol at the place, still he had always before his mind’s eye the great Lord of the Universe,’ wrote Dr. Sir R.G. Bhandarkar in his noble volume on Vaishnavism (p. 95). In some verses indeed Tukaram seems to hold that the stone idol was a mere stone, neither embodying nor symbolising the divine. The inconsistency of such a position he seems to have realised, but he does not solve it. Hence, the millions in the Deccan who follow him in idolatrous practices in contrast with the thousands who share his theistic aspirations, have both much to support them. Hence, also a Theistic Society like the Prarthana Samaj in Bombay on June 20th, 1920 failed to pass a resolution that ‘any member who performs a domestic or any other ceremony with idolatrous, rites or worships any idols while performing such rites, will ipso facto cease to be, a member of the Bombay Prarthana Samai.’ A similar ambiguity exists in Tukaram’s references to caste and holy places. Caste was accepted by Tukaram as an institution of the Hindu world, and he did not carry to its logical conclusion his conviction that God does not consider a man’s caste, all His worshippers being equally dear to Him. Similarly, present day Brahmins recite with fervour Tukaram’s freedom-loving verses and yet hold vigorously to caste distinctions. Tukaram holds quite clearly that the worship of Vithoba is open to anyone, but he never draws the practical inference that caste should be abolished, although caste had denied the Mahar Chokhamela any access to Vithoba, as it does to all untouchables to this hour. Yet Tukaram can sing: ‘A Vaishnava is one who loves God alone, his caste may be anything at all.’

Not a Reformer

A great opportunity was surely missed when Tukaram failed to demand for all worshippers alike the right of admission to Vitboba’s temple, Mahars not being allowed inside, and when he failed to realise the national evil of caste, as a thoroughgoing reformer would have done. But Tukaram was in no sense a reformer as the word is commonly, understood. Therefore, to call Tukaram a ‘revolutionist’ as does M. M. Kunte (Vicissitudes of Aryan Civilisation in India pp. 279, 595) or to speak of him as uttering a ‘bold protest’ (Ibid. Pp. 516, 595) is to misunderstand him. Much that met his eye in Pandbarpur, such as red paint on Hanuman, the worship of the river and of minor deities, vexed his soul, but he did not advance to an attack save against what was gross and immoral and not always even then. It is true he is fierce against sakta worship and worshippers, pretence of magical powers and all religious impostors. But there were grave evils a man of his convictions should have assailed, sati for example. Of Brahmans, he always speaks with respect, sometimes unnecessarily so: ‘A Brahmin is superior to the three worlds though he fails in duty.’. We are therefore safe in viewing him, not as a reformer setting out to attack abuses, but as a sage with lofty principles in a degenerate time, a sage who for lack of courage, conviction, or inspiration allowed his protests to lapse after he had uttered them. ‘The fact is,’ says Prof. W.B. Patwardhan in explanation, ‘that the saints of the Bhakti school were of a pacific turn of mind and did not love controversy or contest. I may go still further and say that is the frame of mind of Maharashtra. The people of Maharashtra are imbued with the spirit of conciliation, of quiet recognition, and catholic toleration. Hence, the militant dogmatism and the furious fanaticism that stir and mar other races have been generally conspicuous by their absence.’ But Dr. Ambedkar’s 1936 militant pamphlet on The Annihilation of Caste will have none of this vindication of the Maratha bhakti-saints, whose acquiescence in caste he regards as a blot on their history.

Popularity

Despite his limitations, perhaps partly because of them, since they make him so human, Tukaram has a unique place among his own Maharashtra people. Besides the Varkaris, a pilgrim sect devoted to him, every member of which visits Pandharpur not only at the two annual festivals but on other ekadashis or Monthly elevenths, and whose preaching of equality and disregard of caste have been ‘a valuable counterpoise to Brahmin domineering’ (Bombay Gazette vol. XX. pp: 471-3), there are millions of Deccan peasants of all castes and creeds who sing his verses in the fields by day and in companies around some flickering lamp at night. His poems form a substantial part of the hymn-book of the Prarthana Samaj of Western India, in which his terms, ‘Vithoba, Pandurang, etc.’ being unacceptable to ekeshwaris (monotheists); the simple term ‘God’ has been substituted. That Tukaram has exercised a nationalising and democratising influence among the people of the only Indian nation that has ever ruled over any considerable portion of India can hardly be doubted. His moralising force cannot be said to have been so great, in view of idolatrous conditions in the Deccan today. But the Vithoba of Tukaram still inspires a phenomenal type of devotion in his devotees. From as far distant places as Madras, women have been known to make at Vithoba’s shrine the hair-offering called venidan (vent, a braid dan, a gift) by having their heads shaved as do Brahman women at Gaya, and all Pandharpur pilgrims have such an affection for their god that no darshan is complete without the pilgrim’s head touching Vithoba’s feet. No fewer than 140,000 people have taken their darshan at recent festivals, at the rate of 12,000 daily. Some of them accomplish the journey by prostrating their form at every step in honour of Vithoba, some thus rolling along for more than forty miles, one case being known of a man rolling like a log from Nagpur, hundreds of miles away, at the rate of two miles a day, the journey taking two years (J. Murray Mitchell, Indian Antiquity, vol. XI p. 155).

Tukaram and Jesus

In view of the foregoing, readers will be surprised that questions are sometimes asked comparing Tukaram and Jesus. This comparison was made in 1903 in a 55-page English essay by Dr. Prabhakarrao Bhandarkar entitled: ‘Two Masters, Jesus and Tukaram.’ We have no doubt what would have been the attitude of our broken-hearted bhakta concerning any such comparison. For Dr. Prabhakarrao’s own rendering of some of Tukaram’s many confessions reads: ‘Hear these words of mine, oh saints! I am a great sinner; why do you love me with such tenderness? … People take outward appearances for realities.’ Much was I vexed with family affairs … I cut off connection with wife, sons and brother, and thus necessarily became a dull, unlucky wretch. I could not show my face to the public, and (therefore) sneaked into a corner. By the (cravings of) the belly I was extremely tormented. My forefathers served God and hence I naturally worship Him: let none take it for (my own) faith, says Tuka. Can it therefore be a matter for surprise that many people in 1903 felt ‘the incongruity of the comparison’ Dr. Prabhakarrao had drawn between the sin-stricken Tukaram and One accepted by millions as their sinless Redeemer? We are on more solid ground when we accept the reasoned conclusion of the late Narayan Vaman Tilak about Tukaram’s poems, viz., that they had been a ‘bridge over which he came to Christ.’ This great student and admirer of Tukaram says in one place: You can find much in Tukaram’s poetry that runs parallel with the teachings of Christ, save its principles and spirit. These latter, eclectics such as the Prarthana Samajists easily read into his word, and when they cannot do so, they put them there. Tukaram’s poetry is based on his own experience of life, which makes his poetry like a picture gallery where his own life is exhibited in pictures, and since the lives of Christ and Tukaram differ, their teachings must necessarily differ. As a religious enquirer I made a careful comparative study of Jesus and Tukaram, because I first tried to follow Jesus without being His, and I found out that, since merely ethical maxims and sentiments are not enough to make a religion, Tukaram has nothing in common with Jesus. But he was a saint. Of these Hindu saints I have said in my Christayan: “They are far from Thee, and yet they are Thy devotees - none need doubt this; they are genuine saints who live for Thee,” Tukaram was one of the greatest saints of India, and as such he has influenced and is still influencing the devotional trend of his people. In the case of us Christians, he is one of the most powerful of side-lights. Only a week ago he threw me into the very arms of my Lord.

Conclusion

Our two and a half decades of study of Tukaram have driven us to the conclusion that if Tukaram had known Jesus Christ, Who gave the world such a perfect life and character exemplifying the teaching; if Tukaram had known the message that Jesus had died to ensure for all a pardon from God; if Tukaram had known these facts, our own conviction is that Tukaram would have accepted Jesus and would have become His disciple. In Jesus, Tukaram would have found the solution to his heart-problem: “Between God and me there are the lofty mountains of desire and anger; I am not able to ascend them nor do I find any pass.” In such cries of Tukaram we seem to hear echoes of those Bible saints two thousand years before Tukaram’s day: ‘The deer is panting for a stream, and I am panting, O God, for Thee.’ (Psalm 42 v. 1 Moffatt). Cries such as these which come from the hearts of individuals like Tukaram the world over, provide convincing illustrations of how completely those needs are met by Him who said, ‘Come unto me and I will give you rest.’ And it is because we want to share with India the rich deep rest we ourselves have found in Jesus Christ that many of us have come to India. St. Paul and N.V. Tilak, and Sadhu Sundar Singh and Pandita Ramabai knew all about their own faults as did Tukaram, and how powerless they themselves were to ‘find any pass’ over ‘the lofty mountains of desire and anger’; they discovered the ‘pass’ in Jesus Christ Who declared Himself the Way, the Truth and the Life. That Tukaram had many glimpses of high truth is clear from the nearly fifty verbal parallels between Tukaram and the New Testament which we printed in the second appendix to our 1921 book (p. 274). But they were only glimpses. We may be allowed to conclude here, as we concluded our article for Dr. Hastings over two decades ago in vol. 12 of The Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics (p. 469): ‘The kinship between Tukaram and Christian teaching sometimes seems to be so close that a knowledge of his poems, at least in their English translation, should be regarded as an indispensable preparation for Christian work among his people, That nearly three centuries ago Tukaram should have proclaimed so clearly the inefficacy of all merely external rites and should have insisted so constantly on inward experience as the one essential of true religion offers to the Christian evangelist a most useful, point of contact with the people of India.’

(Editor’s note) This article is one of a series on Tukaram contributed by Rev. J.F. Edwards, and we regret that such a long interval should separate its publication from that of the others

Notes

As this number of The Pilgrim goes to press, an important meeting is being held at which representatives of the Christian Society for the Study of Hinduism will meet with representatives of the National Christian Council to discuss the possibility of inaugurating a School of Hindu Studies. The terms of reference given in a letter from Dr. Titus are: “… a committee to investigate the possibility of organising, maintaining and developing a School for the study of Hinduism and related religions either in close association with an existing Christian institution or otherwise.”. With regard to the last clause it has to be borne in mind that the recommendation to set up the committee comes from the Report on Theological Education, and in the forefront of discussions must be the question of the relationship of these special studies to theological studies as a whole. We expect to be able to give a fuller account in our next number, though the recommendations of this committee will come before the next meeting of the N.C.C. Theological Education Committee in August.

Also, as this goes to press the attention and the hopes of millions are focussed on the mission of the cabinet ministers. We join our own hopes and prayers to those of others that such a solution may be reached as will advance the well-being of India and the cause of world peace. We approach the festival of Easter, and are once more reminded how closely religion and politics are interlinked. We are also reminded that so far as Christianity is concerned there can be no purely political solution. When the goal of, political freedom has been reached, then more than ever we have to explore the depths of this great concept of freedom; when revolutionary excitement has abated there remains the task - often humdrum - of proving one’s freedom amidst the stresses and temptations of daily life. We who are engaged in the enterprise which The Pilgrim represents are bound to press for the religious solution. We shall find that the problem of freedom and the problem of personality are one and the same. Hinduism admits of personality, but for its personality is one of a myriad manifestations of the dance of life, of Shiva’s creative and destructive energy. We Christians must stake our all on personality, which is as dangerous a concept as that of freedom. Admittedly recent European history is full of warnings of what happens when the quest of personality degenerates into irresponsible individualism. But personality is not therefore to be discounted. A Lahore publishing firm has forwarded to the writer a number of books for review.¹² They are on the political situation and would normally hardly come within the province of our journal. We mention them now however because they are all concerned with persons, Gandhi, Nehru and Bose. Is not this stress on personalities in itself significant?

Notices

1. The next and the eighth session of the Benares Institute is expected to be held for a month during October. Particulars to be had from R.C. Das, Ramkatora, Benares Cantonment
2. The Landour Institute is fixed for May 20th to 25th this summer. For details write to Dr. J.E. McEldowney, Leonard Theological College, Jabalpur.
3. A comparative study of Hinduism and Christianity will be arranged at the Almora Ashram in May and June. Particulars to be had from R.C. Das.

Please note that the Editor’e address is now:

Rev. J.S. Moon, Methodist Mission, Fyzabad, U. P.

Edited and published by Rev. J.S. Moon, Fyzabad

Printed by Anglo-Oriental Press, Jangambari, Benares