Chapter Fourteen: The Missionary (Part Two)

The Great Ming: Tianqi Era Record of Instructions 2280 words 2026-03-20 06:53:42

He had inquired about the basic circumstances of Xu Guangqi and the Nanjing Missionary Case. In the forty-fourth year of the Wanli reign, Shen Que, who was acting as Minister of Rites in Nanjing, submitted three memorials to the emperor attacking Christianity. In his memorials, he accused the missionaries of three major crimes: first, that missionaries gave gifts to Chinese people to win their favor, so as to one day overthrow China; second, that missionaries had assisted China in reforming the calendar, calculating eclipses and such dates. Shen believed that their use of Western methods to reform the calendar violated the customs passed down since the times of Yao and Shun, and was a deliberate attempt to disrupt Chinese tradition. Third, Shen accused the missionaries of undermining Confucian culture by teaching people not to venerate their ancestors—a practice intolerable to the Chinese. He even claimed that Catholic missionaries in China were colluding with the White Lotus sect and harbored ulterior motives. Under pressure from various quarters, the court had no choice but to issue an edict banning the religion, ordering the expulsion of missionaries. Some missionaries were killed, some imprisoned, and later expelled to Macau, with churches destroyed. Xu Guangqi had submitted a memorial defending the missionaries, but in the end, was unsuccessful.

Of course, Shen Que’s reasons were not all valid, but it was his third point that was most intolerable to the Ming people: China’s tradition of ancestral veneration was diametrically opposed to Christianity’s rejection of such rites, naturally stirring widespread resentment. Matteo Ricci had not opposed Chinese Christians’ veneration of Confucius and their ancestors, but after his death, his successor, Long Huamin, misjudged the situation. Believing the climate was now wholly favorable and that there was no longer any risk of expulsion, he asserted that previous tolerance of ancestral rites and Confucian ceremonies had been a mistake, and fervently advocated that Chinese Christians should no longer be permitted to venerate their ancestors. This, in turn, led directly to the Nanjing Missionary Case.

Nicolas Trigault himself was quite supportive of Ricci’s missionary methods. The seven thousand volumes he had brought from Europe were, in fact, an embodiment of Ricci’s principle of “academic evangelism”: first, attract the Chinese with Western learning, then it would become far easier for them to accept Western religion. However, Long Huamin was his superior, and had always appreciated him; and when it came to ancestral rites and the translation of certain Christian terms, Long Huamin had his own firm views. Though Trigault did not entirely agree with Father Long’s steadfastness, their relationship remained amicable for now. Though he was well aware that the Nanjing Missionary Case was directly related to Long Huamin’s approach, it was difficult for him to openly criticize his superior, or to return to Ricci’s old path.

Now, the emperor had plainly stated that the responsibility for the Nanjing Missionary Case lay with the missionaries themselves. This was a direct indication that the emperor was dissatisfied with their doctrines and certain methods of evangelism. In this country, the emperor’s attitude could directly determine the outcome of missionary work, even whether it could proceed at all.

“Your esteemed Majesty, during my last return, I reported to our Pope, and the Pope has now given permission for us to translate the Bible into Chinese and to conduct the sacraments in the Chinese language. We are most eager to spread the glory of God throughout the Ming realm.”

“You have learned well to avoid the main point. If you do not revise your doctrines, your mission will never achieve much success in the Ming. You should consider this carefully. I permit you to build a church library in the capital; once your books are translated, they may be stored there. If you are prepared, after deliberation, to amend your doctrine, then you may come to me again.”

“Thank you, wise Majesty, for your gracious favor. I shall follow your suggestions and work to revise the doctrine, but the process may require some time, as we must first report to the Church.”

“Very well. I am greatly interested in your books, and hope to see them rendered in our language soon.” Zhu Youjiao perused the catalog as he spoke.

“I have already established a Bureau of Translation specifically to render these books into our script. This process will require your assistance. Furthermore, I wish to establish a new academy, with instruction focused mainly on your expertise—mechanics. I ask that you also offer suggestions regarding the curriculum and methods of teaching.”

Trigault naturally accepted every request without hesitation. These matters would only benefit their mission, and were thus most welcome.

After Zhu Youjiao had finished speaking, he had them present the “far-seeing mirror.” He picked it up and gazed ahead; the palace gate appeared close at hand, and even the little eunuch standing at the doorway, yawning in boredom, could be seen clearly. He handed it to Xu Guangqi: “Take a look, sir—quite interesting, isn’t it?”

Xu Guangqi took it and imitated the emperor’s manner, but was startled to suddenly see a gigantic eye appear before him—Zhu Youjiao had deliberately stepped in front of the lens and peered into it.

Zhu Youjiao burst out laughing. Xu Guangqi, helpless against the emperor’s childlike playfulness, could only smile dotingly as well. Then he said, “This device would be most useful in the military camps, and, I believe, with minor modifications, it might also serve in astronomical observations. May I request Your Majesty to bestow a name upon it?”

“This far-seeing mirror—I’ll name it the ‘telescope.’” Since that was what it would be called in later generations, there was no need to overthink it.

He then turned to the missionaries: “Have you passed on the method of making these to the Arsenal?”

Johann Adam Schall von Bell stepped forward and replied, “Your Majesty, we have already instructed the craftsmen in the technique, and I have also explained the principles to the official Sun at the Arsenal.” This missionary was not yet fluent in Chinese, and simply referred to Sun Yuanhua as “Official Sun.”

“Excellent. How progresses the casting of cannons?”

“Upon receiving Your Majesty’s order in Macau, we constructed several cannons. Recently, we have also cast one at the Arsenal here, and have taught the entire casting method to Censor Sun,” Trigault answered, far more proficient.

“Very good! I am most pleased. Let it be so—I await good news from you.”

After the audience, as they withdrew, Trigault could not restrain his excitement and said to Xu Guangqi, “Thank you for your assistance, my friend. At last, we can establish a church library!” For the missionaries, being allowed to set up a church library in the capital was a triumph of great symbolic significance. The emperor’s personal approval amounted to a clear declaration of support for their cause—a momentous blessing indeed.

Xu Guangqi, however, was unsure whether the emperor truly grasped the significance of allowing a church library, but as a believer himself, he was naturally delighted. Yet he understood that the emperor’s interest in new technologies and weaponry far exceeded any fascination with missionary work; indeed, he even suspected that the emperor cared nothing for the faith itself, but was drawn only by Western science. So he said directly, “My help is also for the sake of spreading the faith. But as for the translation of books, I fear I must trouble you and your colleagues—the faster the work proceeds, the happier His Majesty will be, and the more robust his support for us. Also, regarding Father Long, you must consult with him; the method of evangelizing truly needs to be changed. I, for one, do not wish to see another Nanjing Missionary Case.”

Trigault nodded heavily, his heart weighed down with sorrow. Under the current circumstances, it was clear that Father Long’s approach would no longer suffice. The emperor had made his stance clear: the Church must adapt. He knew that it was difficult for an old man’s thinking to change, but there was no help for it—he would have to let Father Long down.