and the human soul, and the absorption of that soul into the divine. Those following this way usually centre upon John’s Gospel, and texts such as ‘I and the Father are one’ (John 10.30). They look too to the Logos concept, the self-expression of the divine, with parallels in the Om in Hinduism as the primeval voice of Brahman, the divine.
Others focused upon the bhakti devotional traditional, where God is intensely personal. An example is Bishop Appaswamy. Another initiative is that of relating to Saivism. This is seen in the work of Israel Selvanayagam, who engages deeply with Saiva Siddhanta, a Tamil philosophical tradition. More recently, there has come a focus on the Spirit, largely absent in earlier writings, and this can be found in a recent doctoral thesis of Christine Manohar, published as Spirit Christology.12 As an Indian Christian she builds on the earlier recent work of Kirsteen Kim, Mission in the Spirit, on the Spirit in Indian traditions.13
Another recent work of significance is that of Thomas Thangaraj, The Crucified Guru,14 which takes the Hindu concept of teacher, so often seen in Hindu leaders, who become the objects of personal devotion, not least by Westerners, and shows how Jesus could be seen in this way. The guru is voice of God to the devotee, and can easily be seen as a god. Clearly there can be seen to be links with developments in Christology, though Christ as servant is very different in its implication. Links can be seen here with the key concept of the guru in Sikhism (see later in this chapter).
There has been much discussion about sacramental theology, particularly related to baptism. The challenge was raised, most notably by the Mar Thoma church theologian M. M. Thomas, whether baptism was strictly to be insisted upon within the Indian context. He engaged in a vigorous controversy with his friend Lesslie Newbigin.15 Thomas was deeply disturbed with what seemed like the de-indianization, or deculturation of a convert, symbolized by baptism into what was seen as a Western organization, the Church. A challenge came from Russell Chandran, then principal of the United Theological College, in Bangalore, who held that baptism is not about separation from the original family or community, or about bringing disunity, but about separation from sin.
Newbigin held strongly to the traditional understanding of baptism, and if there was pain in separation, that had to come – conversion, obedience to new norms and joining a new community (the Church) are not three different things but are all aspects of the same thing. He held that the Church was a sign of the new humanity, which must include the capacity to embrace people of varying cultural backgrounds in one fellowship. This would of necessity in India include people of all castes and communities. This was a mark of the kingdom. Better a smaller church of quality than a large church which followed caste divisions. Newbigin fought against a tendency to look to higher numbers of converts by following the mission strategy of the ‘church growth’ school of Donald McGavran, where leaders considered how churches would grow best and followed that strategy – the homogenous growth principle. Baptism, believed Newbigin, was often divisive, but so was it in New Testament times. Being part of the visible Church was to be a Christian. M. M. Thomas defined the new humanity as ‘that which responds in faith and receives the liberation of Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour’. This did not require baptism.
All this was part of a wider discussion about what it means to be Indian and Christian. There have been a number of initiatives to establish Indian Christian fellowships or churches independent of Western churches. Examples of these were the Indian Church of the Only Saviour (Nattu Sabai). This was formed as the ‘Hindu Church of the Lord Jesus’ in Tinnevelly in 1858, and consisted of Christians of the Nadar community who kept their caste distinctions, and abandoned baptism.16 Another was the movement in Andhra Pradesh of Subba Rao. He was virulently anti-baptism, and called himself a Hindu devotee of Christ. The Old Testament was abandoned, as he responded to a direct vision of Christ in 1942. Again it was a one-caste movement. These are just two of several such groups, none of which has been sustainable long term in any numbers. Moreover, such is the power of Hinduism, and its inclusiveness, that adherents are soon absorbed back into their former fold.
The same applies to so-called secret Christians. These are many and are of two types. Some have been secretly baptized, and are single-minded in their Christianity, usually conservative in their theology and negative to their Hindu background. But social circumstances and family realities mean they keep their baptism secret. The most famous group of these were women in Sivakasi, Tamil Nadu, whose faith was sustained often for two or three generations, until they ‘came out’ as part of the Church. The other group are the large numbers who follow Jesus through prayer, Bible reading, radio programmes, attending meetings, but are part of family Hinduism otherwise. Research shows that in Chennai there are as many such Christians as there are full members of the Church.17 Again, sustaining such a position over a period of years is difficult if not impossible.
Theological parameters have changed rapidly, under the impact of the Dalit movement, and the growing importance of other excluded groups as they have gained a voice, such as women and tribals. Dalit theology has become increasingly dominant and has led to a suspicion of all other forms of theology, including Indian Christian theology, as above, being labelled Brahminic. The studious work of K. P. Aleaz, for example, on Christianity and Advaita has, in recent years, been dismissed by such voices. The high volume of Dalit theology has been varied in its quality, but represents a strong voice of protest, about being silenced for generations. Its most famous voices include James Massey, A. P. Nirmal and M. Prabakhar. Much of it rejects all association with Hinduism in any form. But other writers, most notably Abraham Ayrookuziel, were able to bring out the creative and liberative strains within village Hinduism and its traditions, including its songs, poems and oral traditions.18 Satthinathan Clarke, not himself a Dalit, has written one of the most creative works, coming out of his doctoral thesis, where he compares Christ with the drum. This is the village instrument which a particular Dalit caste is required to play at the funerals of the high caste. He shows how this can become a symbol of liberation rather than of slavery. Recent feminist writings have talked of Dalit Christian women as being threefold discriminated against – as women, Christians and Dalits. There have been attempts to find liberating themes in the persons of goddesses in popular Hinduism, and also in figures such as Sita.
In the Dalit movement some of the distinctions across faiths can fall away, as the emphasis falls on a common identity as the excluded ones, rather than on barriers between faiths. Clearly the Christian movement as a whole has also been a factor in the reform of at least some Hindus’ attitudes to Dalits. The need to treat former untouchables with humanity and dignity has not just come out of a defensive attitude, lest they all convert to other faiths. It has also unearthed the better traditions within Hinduism, as it works at showing that such distinctions are not of the true nature of Hinduism, any more than slavery was of the nature of Christianity. But such changes were necessary for apologetic reasons also. The strong stance taken by Ram Mohan Roy against caste divisions and untouchability was an important step forward. Gandhi himself was not uninfluenced by Jesus’ teaching, particularly in the Sermon on the Mount, in many of the progressive stances he took. He would not enter any temple if it was not also open to those he had named Harijans (a name they later rejected as patronizing – those ‘blessed by God’ – as they took on their own designation, Dalit, meaning ‘crushed ones’; see note 1). Both the Arya Samaj and the Brahmo Samaj claimed at least to be inclusive of all castes, as did the Ramakrishna Mission. The Ramakrishna Mission has a strong emphasis on social work with the poor. Ramakrishna himself had a strong vision of Jesus, as one of the influences behind his formation of the mission.
Questions of mission, evangelism and conversion
Theology and practice of mission has depended in an integral way on theology of religions. The prime motivation for Christian mission in India for centuries was to save souls, and convert communities and individuals to the gospel and to membership of the Church. Whether they lived under what was seen as the tyranny of Islam, or the demonic possession of Hinduism, the task was to rescue them for the sake of their eternal destiny. This exclusivist theology was the norm among the sending agencies,
