Confucius through Christian Eyes: W.A.P. Martin

W.A.P. Martin (1827-1916) was one of the most influential missionaries in China from the 1850s to the early years of the nineteenth century. His almost continuous residence in China, varied activities, and many publications earned the respect of missionaries and Chinese leaders alike. (For brief biographies of Martin, see G. Wright Doyle, “W.A.P. Martin,” Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Christianity and “William A.P. Martin: Pioneer of Progress in China.” In Builders of the Chinese Church, edited by G. Wright Doyle. Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2015, 122-148.)

Here we shall focus on his views of Confucius and Confucianism.

Confucius

“Among the sages of the pagan world he comes nearest to Christ in virtue and influence” (Martin, Cycle of Cathay, 287).

“Confucius was not an originator; he was a reformer, selecting from past and present whatever he deemed worthy of preservation. . . In this way, without assuming the role of prophet, he gave to China a cult that reaches all class, and a code of morals which, however deficient in depth and power, still serves as a bond of social order.”

“He was not agnostic in the modern sense. Superior to the superstitions of the vulgar, he taught his disciples to ‘respect the gods, but not to go near them’. Yet few men have ever been more penetrated with reverence for the Supreme Power of the universe, whom, to avoid irreverence, he calls by the vague designation of Heaven. His conception is not wanting in personality, for he ascribes to Heaven the attributes of moral government and providence. . . To him it is due that the worship of Heaven still survives, for which the emperor officiates as high priest.”

Though cautious in his statements about the future life, “[y]et he enjoined the worship of ancestors, a cult which has done more than any abstract teaching to cherish a belief in the survival of the soul. His agnosticism was essentially different from that combative type which seeks to destroy faith in supersensible existence.”

“Confucius was above all a teacher of morals. So consonant is his system with that of Christianity that the golden rule, in a negative form, is its first law, and charity and humility among its leading virtues. He was not a Christ, but Moses. The chief defect of Confucianism is one that is inherent in the ‘law,’ which, though ‘holy, righteous, and good,’ is yet ‘weak through the flesh.’ It is lacking in spiritual life; and, while now and then an individual may be met with who is striving to live to its precepts, it is no libel to say of the bulk of its noisiest professors, i.e., of the whole body of so-called literati, that they are steeped in formalism and hypocrisy” (Cycle 288-89).

The Lore of Cathay, wrote the author, was compiled from materials which were “drawn exclusively from native sources, and are the result of original research,” whereas A Cycle of Cathay “represents the life of the Chinese as it appeared to the writer in the course of a long and varied experience,” but “this book mirrors their intellectual life as it developed under investigations extending through many years of intimate association with Chinese scholars, and of identification with Chinese education” (Martin, Lore, 1).

Confucius was “endowed with uncommon talents,” but he did not rely “on the fertility of his mind, but followed his own maxim: ‘Reading without thought is fruitless, and thought without reading dangerous.’” He read widely and deeply in the “accumulated treasures of literature and history. With these materials he stored his memory, and by the aid of reflection digested them into a system for the use of posterity” (Lore 171).

Martin notes how, after a brief career in government, Confucius “devoted himself more than ever to the instruction of youth, and to the collection of those monuments of ancient wisdom, which form the basis of his teaching” (Lore 172). He praises the laconic, proverbial style of Confucius, which produced maxims that were easily memorized. Martin records the five relationships and the five cardinal virtues – benevolence, justice, order, prudence, and fidelity (ren, yi, li, zhi, xun) and quotes a few representative sayings.

Filial piety is the basis of Confucian ethics, as taught in the Xiao Jing. Virtue, as with Aristotle, is the mean between two vices. It is taught in the Zhong Yong, which Martin calls “the sublimest of the sacred books” (Lore 174).

“The Confucian philosophy in its prominent characteristics is ethical, occupying itself mainly with social relations and civil duties, shunning studiously all questions that enter into ontological subtleties or partake of the marvelous and the supernatural” (Lore 189).

“The only names among the Greeks which admit of comparison with that of Confucius are Socrates and Aristotle. . . Without the discursive eloquence of the one [i.e., Plato’s Socrates] or the logical acumen of the other, Confucius surpassed them both in practical wisdom, and exceeds them in the depth, extent, and permanence of his influence” (Lore 175-76).

“Martin always related Christianity to China’s dominant philosophy as a matter of ‘Confucius plus Christ’ and never ‘Christ or Confucius’” (Covell, Martin, 248). Additionally, he believed that Confucius’ teaching that one or more sheng ren – holy men, or sages – would appear could be used as a stepping-stone for Christians to present Christ as the Holy Man, the savior, for whom Confucians had been waiting. “There is nothing to prevent a sound Confucian accepting Christ as the Light of the World, without abandoning his faith in Confucius as a special teacher for the Chinese. . . As a matter of fact, native Christians continue to believe in the mission of Confucius, much as converted Jews do in that of Moses” (Lore 247-248).

On the other hand, “the thoughtful Christian who has studied the canonical books of China can hardly return to the perusal of the New Testament without a deeper conviction of its divine authority” (Lore 176).

Moreover, “disgusted at the superstitions of the vulgar, and desirous of guarding his followers against similar excesses, Confucius led them into the opposite extreme of scepticism (sic). He ignored, if he did not deny, those cardinal doctrines of all religion, the immortality of the soul and the personal existence of God, both of which were currently received in his day. In place of Shang Ti (Supreme Ruler), the name under which the God of Nature had been worshipped in earlier ages, he made use of the vague appellation Tien (Heaven); thus opening the way, on the one hand, for that atheism with which their modern philosophy is so deeply infected and, on the other, for that idolatry which nothing but the doctrine of a personal God can effectually counteract” (Lore 176-77).

Furthermore, “while his writings abound in the praises of virtue, not a line can be found inculcating the pursuit of truth. Expediency, not truth, is the goal of his system. Martin contrasts this with the central place of truth in the teaching of Jesus. (See, for example, John 8:32; 14:6; and his promise to send “the Spirit of truth,” John 14:17.)

As much as he admired the ethical teachings of Confucius, Martin noted that they were “only practiced by a few Chinese, and that this revealed the need for a supernatural faith which would supply the ‘motives and supports of which their own system is wholly destitute’” (Covell, Martin, 249, quoting Martin, Lore, 225).

“The style of Confucius was an ipse-dixit [he said it himself (and therefore it is true)] dogmatism, and it has left its impress on the unreasoning habit of the Chinese mind. Jesus Christ appealed to evidence and challenged inquiry, and this characteristic of our religion has shown itself in the mental development of Christian nations” (Lore 177).

Another contrast lies in their goal and end: Confucius selected disciples who should be depositories of his teachings; Christ chose apostles who should be witnesses of his actions. Confucius died lamenting that the edifice he had labored so long to erect was crumbling to ruin. Christ’s death was the crowning act of his life, with his last words, ‘It is finished’” (Lore 177).

“It was a philosophy, not a religion, that Confucius aimed to propagate. ‘Our Master, say his disciples, spoke little concerning the gods.’ He preferred to confine his teachings to the more tangible realities of human life; but so far from setting himself to reform the vulgar superstition, he conformed to its silly ceremonies and enjoined the same course on his disciples . . . the teachings of Confucius gave authority and prevalence to many idolatrous usages which were only partially current before his day” (Lore 178).

Confucianism

The Three Teachings – San Chao

The Chinese from the beginning had an idea of a Supreme Being, Shang Di (Shang Ti). “They did not, indeed, know him as the Creator, but they recognized him as supreme in providence, and without beginning or end” (Lore 169). Soon, however, the worship of Shang Di was clouded by sacrifices to other spirits and deities.

“The Confucian system did not originate with Confucius. He took the records of remote antiquity and sifted them, in such wise, however, as to exert in a most effective manner the influence of an editor, giving to the readers of all succeeding ages only that which he wished to produce its effect on the national mind” (Lore 170). For Martin, Confucianism begins with the tales of Yao and Xun (Shun), who lived more than two thousand years before Christ.

When Martin wrote his book, Confucianism reigned supreme, Buddhism and Daoism having fallen into decay. Whether Confucianism should be called a religion has sparked spirited debate for centuries. Martin made clear his position: “Confucianism now stands forth as the leading religion of the Empire. Its objects of worship are of three classes – the powers of nature, ancestors, and heroes. . . Of all their religious observances, the worship of ancestors is that which the Chinese regard as the most sacred” (Lore 178).

“The class of deified heroes comprehends illustrious sages, eminent sovereigns, faithful statesmen, valiant warriors, filial sons, and public benefactors – Confucius himself occupying the first place, and constituting, as the Chinese say, ‘one of a trinity with Heaven and Earth’” (Lore 179).

To the vexed question of whether Christians should observe Confucian rites of veneration to ancestors, in his Chinese-language Evidences of Christianity, he replied, “‘You may observe those that do not contradict the Bible, but you must reject those that do.’ He supported this conclusion by quoting the Ten Commandments, noting specifically that there was no difference between idolatry and worship before the ancestral table, or between sacrificing to idols and presenting food to the spirit of dead ancestors” (Covell, Martin, 122, quoting Martin, Evidences of Christianity, 129b, 7-130a, 6).

Instead, he advised Chinese Christians to “fix and clean the graves [of ancestors], put up the pictures of departed loved ones, and take flowers to the burial sites. But above all, worship and praise for God should be the truest way of expressing gratitude for life” (Martin 122).

Martin “was much more tolerant of the ancestral rites in his English writings, undoubtedly hoping to modify the strict views of many of his colleagues” (Martin 130., n.102). Even in the Chinese-language Evidences of Christianity, however, he “urged potential converts not to turn their backs on Confucius” (Martin, 253, referencing Martin, Evidences, 73a, 9).

“In another of his Chinese books, Christianity and Other Creeds, written in 1909, Martin traced the details of the famed ‘Rites Controversy’ and clearly took a stand with the Jesuits against the Franciscan and the Dominicans. Shang-ti was the most acceptable name for God, he felt, and he further claimed that if the ancestral rites had been permitted, even temporarily, the Emperor K’ang-hsi might have become a modern-day Constantine, bringing officials, gentry, and the common people into the Christian fold” (Martin 253).

At the General Missionary Convention in Shanghai in 1890, Martin presented a paper, read for him by Gilbert Reid, “The Worship of Ancestors.” It caused considerable controversy. Though admitting that the current rites were “tainted by ‘a large intermixture of superstition and idolatry,’ he noted that the Confucian rites played important civil and domestic roles.” He did not think that the cult could be eradicated completely, and argued for a temporary accommodation while a permanent solution was being sought.

He rejected idolatrous elements, “that is, invocations and offerings which implied that the deceased were tutelary deities”; suggested that certain “announcements” be altered to serve as expressions of filial affection rather than as prayers; and argued that certain forms such as kneeling and bowing be allowed, since they were not idolatrous in this particular context. He did not mention his suggestions for functional equivalents, which would have made his proposals more acceptable at the convention (Martin 251).

In the heated debate that followed, his views were defended by Timothy Richard and Gilbert Reid. A paper advocating a very different approach was read by a Dr. Gilbert and greeted with loud applause. The scholar E. Faber of the Rhenish Mission and William Muirhead both argued against acceptance of ancestor rites. J. Hudson Taylor, a friend of Martin’s, rose to call for an adjournment to consider the motion more carefully, but his action of rising was misunderstood as a call for a vote not to accept Martin’s paper. The vote was overwhelmingly negative to Martin’s proposals (Covell, Martin, 252, repeats the misunderstanding, which appears also in the minutes of the Convention). Although Taylor did disagree with Martin, he was surprised by the action of the chairman and the delegates at the time.

The debate continued that night and the next day. Finally, Calvin Mateer “proposed a resolution of dissent from his fellow Presbyterian W.A.P. Martin’s conclusions, and Hudson Taylor supported it with an amendment to end the debate, the resolution was ‘carried by a large majority,’ ‘almost unanimously,’ affirming the belief of the conference ‘that idolatry is an essential constituent of ancestor worship’ and dissenting from the view that missionaries ‘should refrain from any interference with the native mode of honouring ancestors’” (Broomhall, It Is Not Death To Die, 142).

Broomhall adds: “most missionaries could give examples of how Chinese when they put their faith in Christ Jesus knew ‘instinctively’, by the prompting of the Holy Spirit, that ancestor worship would have no place in their lives. Many destroyed the tablets and paraphernalia of worship. Some openly burned them with family idols” (Not Death 142). That spontaneous reaction has continued into the twenty-first century.

The debate among missionaries centered upon whether one could distinguish in practice between idolatrous practices and those that were not idolatrous. Martin clearly opposed any semblance of idolatry.

Where he and his supporters differed from the majority was in their belief that these rites were considered merely honorific by the educated elite, who would be greatly offended by any criticism of them. This position resembled that of the Jesuits in the famous Rites Controversy several centuries earlier. The majority in 1890 argued, as had the Franciscans and Dominicans against the Jesuits, that the mass of Chinese treat the ancestral rites as worship to deceased beings who could help or harm them, and that these rites are, therefore, essentially and necessarily idolatrous.

Later, when educational reforms created more schools and universities, students and faculty were required to bow before the images of the emperor or of Confucius. Martin argued that this was only “an exaggerated Oriental mark of respect intended to secure loyalty” (Covell, Martin, 253; citing Martin, “The Worship of Confucius – Is It Idolatry?” The Chinese Recorder, XXXIV (February, 1903), 92-93). Christians could take part in these ceremonies without losing anything or denying any article of their faith. In doing so, they would avoid a sharp confrontation with the leaders of society and gain positions of influence that could later be used to change the system.

Despite their differences of opinion on this matter, W.A.P. Martin and J. Hudson Taylor remained good friends. Taylor visited Martin in Beijing at least once, and they posed, along with Griffith John, for a famous photograph just before Taylor died in China in 1905.

His own practice caused consternation and controversy among missionaries. For example, at the opening of the Imperial University of which he was dean, he and most of the foreign faculty showed their respect for Confucian rites by removing their hats and bowing to the tablet of Confucius” (Martin 186).

Martin “believed that ‘there is no necessary conflict between Christ and Confucius, any more than there was between Paul and Plato’” (Cycle 455). In another place, he said, “Confucianism and Christianity may be distinguished in terms of breadth and narrowness, but not in terms of truth and error” (Martin, Evidences of Christianity, 73a, 3-9, quoted in Covell, Martin, 118). These statements shed great light on Martin’s approach to non-Christian systems of thought. He sought to find comparisons, not contrasts, and to exploit points of contact and convergence as much as possible. In fact, as later Christians eventually realized that a great gulf separates Plato from Paul; the same can be said of Confucius and Christ.

Martin did not grant unqualified support to the Confucian system. He believed that it had “led to skepticism, idolatry, expediency, and a dogmatic, unreasoning attitude of mind. Lacking in spiritual vitality, ‘its noisiest professors, i.e., the whole body of so-called literati . . . are steeped in formalism and hypocrisy’” (Covell, Martin, 249, quoting Martin, Cycle, 289).

He wrote that both Daoism and Confucianism were “equally devoid of any religious principle, [and] at deadly antagonism with the Gospel” (quoted in Covell, Martin, 85). “Confucianism, although correct and beautiful in his view, was not complete, for it had completely neglected the Divine dimension in its doctrines of the wu-lun, the five human relationships. Man, made in God’s image, was first responsible to Heaven” (Martin, Evidences of Christianity, 67b, 2-3, quoted in Covell, Martin, 117).

Strategy for Missions

To win over the masses to Christianity, Martin advocated a strategy that differed radically from that of most missionaries:

“First, baptism should precede inquiry and catechism, rather than following them. Second, ‘whole families, entire clans, villages or districts’ should be admitted to baptism as soon as they ‘committed themselves to a better doctrine, however imperfectly it is to be apprehended.’ Third, the catalyst for this would be the conversion of the head of the family or clan. Fourth, teaching and training, having gained a much larger audience, would follow rather than precede baptism. . . Fifth, the rapidly growing number of converts would ‘exert an irresistible influence on the community to which they belong’” (Covell, Martin, 254, citing Martin, “Conversions En Masse,” The Chinese Recorder, XL (November, 1909), 625-27).

Evaluation

By any standard, W.A.P. Martin was a remarkable man and missionary, admired by Chinese and foreigners alike. His Evidences of Christianity was voted the most influential Chinese-language publication by any missionary by his peers. He learned Mandarin so well that even the literati were impressed by the fluency and style of his Chinese books and articles. A tireless reformer, he encouraged those pioneers of change in China who eventually exerted a major influence on their nation.

As for his views of Confucius and the Confucian system, he saw both its strengths and its weaknesses, as we have noted. He advocated introducing functional substitutes to the ancestor rites that would allow Christians to show respect without committing idolatry.

On the other hand, it seemed to most missionaries that he did not fully understand the religious nature of the Confucian rites in the eyes of all but the most highly educated elites in China. He was an intellectual, for whom the mind ruled supreme. In his strategy for missions in China, he proposed an approach that privileged intellectual assent to Christian doctrines rather than a heart conversion to Christ.

Perhaps significantly, his Evidences of Christianity left out key aspects of the Calvinist tradition from which he came: He did not include teaching about effectual calling, adoption, or assurance of grace and salvation (Martin 123). In short, the subjective, or affective aspect of conversion did not play a crucial role in his soteriology. Does this emphasis upon a purely mental conversion perhaps reflect his own experience? As I have written elsewhere:

Though brought up in a disciplined and godly home, he did not experience any dramatic conversion, or at least did not refer to one in later years. Perhaps this absence of an emotional encounter with God through faith in Christ points toward his later almost total focus on intellectual apprehension of truth – and thus the necessity of education; the absence of what might be called a ‘devotional’ tone in his writings; a very marked self -confidence; and a strong reluctance to admit that he might be wrong (Doyle, “W.A.P. Martin: Pioneer of Progress in China,” 123).

Thus, he emphasized giving instruction to those who had only committed themselves to a better teaching, with baptism following such instruction, rather than a radical commitment to Christ followed by instruction and then baptism for those whose lives had shown that they had been transformed by Christ, as was the practice of most evangelical missionaries.

Martin’s dismay over the outcome of the Rites Controversy centuries before reflects this sort of understanding about Christian conversion. He was willing to see a “Christian” emperor, like Constantine, who would influence the leaders and then the people to accept Christianity. Such nominal and mostly cerebral “conversions” were commonplace in Europe during the Middle Ages, and they produced “Christian” nations and populations lacking in true faith or consistent Christian living.

As for his ideas about the relationship between Christianity and Confucianism, he was willing to focus on similarities in ethics and Confucius’ vague hope that a Superior Man would someday come. He was aware, of course, of the essential agnosticism of Confucius’ teachings, as well as its impotence to change people from the inside. By holding that the two systems were not in conflict, and that Christianity fulfilled Confucianism but did not replace it, he overlooked the fundamental differences between the two systems in epistemology, ontology, and even ethics.

Confucianism is based on human reason and tradition, rather than on divine revelation. As even Martin noted, it lacks a doctrine of a personal Creator God; the Trinity; the person and work of Christ and of the Holy Spirit (ontology and soteriology); regeneration and the continuing work of the Holy Spirit in transforming lives as essential to truly ethical conduct (ethics). Biblical ethics also differ markedly from Confucian teachings, despite some similarities.

Martin, as we have seen, called for a “Confucianism and Christianity” approach. Throughout church history, whenever such a “both-and” approach has been tried, it has resulted in confusion and compromise. As I have shown elsewhere, attempts to synthesize biblical religion with non-Christian belief systems inevitably distorts fundamental Christian doctrines and blunts evangelism (Wright Doyle “Sinicization of Christianity”).

Martin’s ideas were opposed by most missionaries in his own time, but they gained ascendency as more and more “liberal” missionaries entered China. In recent times, his moderate accommodationist strategy has received praise from scholars like his biographer Ralph Covell and from Chinese intellectuals.

Bibliography

Broomhall, A.J. It Is Not Death to Die. Book Seven in Hudson Taylor and China’s Open Century. Seven Oaks, U.K.: Hodder & Stoughton, 1989.

Covell, Ralph. W.A.P. Martin: Pioneer of Progress in China. A Biography. Washington, D.C.: Christian College consortium, in collaboration with Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1978.

Doyle, G. Wright, “W.A.P. Martin,” Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Christianity. Martin, William Alexander Parsons | BDCC (bdcconline.net).

—. “William A.P. Martin: Pioneer of Progress in China.” In Builders of the Chinese Church, edited  by G. Wright Doyle. Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2015, 122-148.

Martin, William Alexander Parsons, A Cycle of Cathey, or, China, South and North. Edinburgh and London: Oliphant Anderson and Ferrier, 1896. Reprinted by Elibron Classics, 2005.

—. The Lore of Cathay: Or, The Intellect of China. New York: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1901, 1912.