At the
heart of the Demerara slave rebellion of 1823 is the story of the
Congregationalist missionary John Smith.
Smith arrived at Le Resouvenir Estate in what is now Guyana in 1817, and was warmly
welcomed there. The authorities, however, warned him not to teach the local
people, i.e. the slaves, to read. Otherwise, he would be banished. In the
event, his preaching of the freedom that comes from knowing Christ was taken
rather more literally than he perhaps intended, leading to an insurrection in
August of 1823. The story of Smith’s arrest and trial, and his death in prison
are well known, and caused outrage in the British Parliament. Some might think
that the outrage was caused not so much by a new high moral ground as the
Colonial Office’s increasing attempts to tame local legislatures! Two things
are notable here.
The
first is that the Christian gospel (and the Biblical narrative) is a
revolutionary text, which governments have sought unsuccessfully to tame over
the centuries. Three hundred years before, Martin Luther had written The Freedom of a Christian, which led disaffected German peasants in economic
difficulty to rise up in the so-called Peasants’ War of 1524. Luther, strikingly,
then retaliated by telling the peasants that they didn't really count, in his
virulent treatise ‘Against the Robbing and Murdering Hordes of Peasants.’ The
text may be revolutionary, but even its prime interpreters regularly
spiritualize what is a holistic message of release from all forms of bondage,
physical and spiritual.
The
second notable fact is that teaching people to read (which Christian
missionaries have done for centuries) is a subversive act, and the authorities
in slave-owning territories understood this well. At first, the Bible was
controlled in the West by being kept in the increasingly academic medium of
Latin. Translation was forbidden, and when John Wycliffe and others illegally
produced an English text, the proof of the pudding was the rise of popular
Christianity that despised the authorities (ecclesiastical and political). They
quickly applied the message of Jesus to their own straitened circumstances.
Paulo Freire’s conscientization programme applied the same liberative principle
in Brazil in the 20th century to great effect. There is a sense in
which it doesn't much matter what people read as long as they can read for
themselves. But when those who learn to read are given the most revolutionary
text of all, trouble tends to break out.
This
brings us to the headline document , the so-called
Slave Bible of 1807. It is worth noting first of all that it is not presented
as a Bible but as a compendium of Bible texts, and we need to be careful how we
describe it. The actual title is Parts of the Holy Bible, selected for the use of the Negro Slaves, in the British West-India Islands. It does not
attempt to present a truncated Bible in the way that Marcion did in the 2nd
century CE, adapting it to his theological views. That said, it does give us a
‘canon within a canon’, a selection of the parts of the Bible that are deemed
fitting for the audience. All Christians do this (as do all people of the
Book). It is instructive to ask why certain parts of the Bible never get
preached on in our churches. The editor of this volume is giving us a
lectionary. So far, so good.
I can’t
tell from the article who made the selection, but I would imagine that it comes
out of the Church of England stable, the stable that was always most in cahoots
with the slave-owning classes, and so perpetuated the status quo. It is not an
innocent text! And here we can continue the story with the foundation of the
Anglican diocese of Jamaica with Honduras in 1824 and its first bishop, Christopher
Lipscomb. We are told that he did not think that he could encourage the
education of slaves until public opinion paved the way, the classic case of the
Christian trapped in his own cultural convenience. One cannot imagine that
Lipscomb was blind the significance of his opinions.
One of the chief aims of the foundation
of the Diocese was to prepare the slaves for eventual emancipation, and the
Jamaican Legislative Council could not be counted on to do this. The
Nonconformists were suspect and their missionary societies financially limited.
And here’s the real point. The Church of England was more acceptable to the
planters because it taught the principles of ‘obedience’ alongside the gospel
message of ‘freedom’. In other words, your soul may be free but your body is
still in hock to your owner. And even though education was being grudgingly
promoted, the Jamaican slave code of 12/1826 prohibited dissenting preachers
from holding meetings from sunset to sunrise, or receive pay from slaves for
religious instruction.
In sum, this extraordinary text on
display in the Museum of the Bible in Washington DC highlights the power of the
biblical narrative, when read by oppressed people, to create a new redeemed
imagination in which freedom is a divinely offered right. Recognizing this,
those who seek to oppress tend to tame the Biblical text by the withdrawal of
the rights of education, though it was no longer possible by the 19th century to put the
Biblical cat back in the bag. The 16th Reformations had put paid to
that possibility. My final observation is that at stake here is who holds the
right of interpretation: the theologians, the church authorities, or the
readers. The Bible is not in and of itself an oppressive text, but it is up to
us to ensure that it is read as a message of freedom, not of continued abuse
and servitude.
Adrian Chatfield
16th December 2018
No comments:
Post a Comment