Archives de sciences sociales des religions, 157

Archives de sciences sociales des religions

157 | janvier-mars 2012Christianismes en OcéanieDossier coordonné par Yannick FerChanging Christianity in Oceania

Édition électroniqueURL : http://journals.openedition.org/assr/23596DOI : 10.4000/assr.23596ISSN : 1777-5825

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Édition impriméeDate de publication : 1 avril 2012ISBN : 978-2-7132-2328-0ISSN : 0335-5985

Référence électroniqueArchives de sciences sociales des religions, 157 | janvier-mars 2012, « Christianismes en Océanie » [Enligne], mis en ligne le 26 avril 2012, consulté le 19 mars 2021. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/assr/23596 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/assr.23596

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SOMMAIRE

IntroductionDossier coordonné par Yannick FerYannick Fer

Christianities in Oceania: Historical Genealogies and Anthropological InsularitiesSimon Coleman

Changing Christianity in Oceania: a Regional OverviewManfred Ernst

Le protestantisme polynésien, de l'Église locale aux réseaux évangéliquesYannick Fer

Secondary Conversion and the Anthropology of Christianity in MelanesiaJohn Barker

Burying the Past—Healing the Land: Ritualising Reconciliation in FijiJacqueline Ryle

Spirit Women, Church Women, and Passenger WomenJoel Robbins

Les protestantismes polynésiens à l'épreuve du genreL'exemple de l'Église presbytérienne de Nouvelle-ZélandeGwendoline Malogne-Fer

La contextualisation de la théologie protestante comme lieu de changement duchristianisme en Océanie Gilles Vidal

Archives de sciences sociales des religions, 157 | janvier-mars 2012

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IntroductionDossier coordonné par Yannick Fer

Yannick Fer

1 Vingt ans après un livre pionnier dirigé

par John Barker (Christianity in Oceania,

Ethnographic Perspectives, publié en 1990),le but de ce dossier thématique 1 ne peutplus être de marquer simplementl'émergence d'une anthropologie duchristianisme en Océanie. Il vise plutôt àexplorer les nouvelles perspectives,ethnographiques et théoriques, qu'ouvreaujourd'hui une approcheinterdisciplinaire des christianismesd'Océanie, saisis dans leurs relations dynamiques avec les contextes locaux et laglobalisation religieuse.

2 Certes, depuis 1990, l'anthropologie océaniste n'a pas totalement surmonté ses

réticences à l'idée d'intégrer les Églises chrétiennes dans sa représentation des cultureslocales. Comme l'a noté John Barker (2007 : 18), cela tient en grande part à sa proprehistoire, longtemps dominée par une visée patrimoniale qui l'inclinait à associerfortement le christianisme d'Océanie « à l'acculturation et à l'incorporation ducolonialisme » occidental. Les premiers travaux, réalisés dans les années 1980,négligeaient donc souvent la description de l'expérience « ordinaire » des chrétiensd'Océanie, en s'attachant avant tout à dresser « un inventaire des résistances, desappropriations et des malentendus imprévus mais souvent productifs » nés de larencontre entre christianisme et cultures océaniennes.

3 Dans la plupart des sociétés océaniennes, cette rencontre n'est plus aujourd'hui un fait

de l'actualité immédiate, mais un des lieux symboliques d'une mémoire culturelleautour de laquelle se sont construites les identités contemporaines (notammentnationales), sous la bannière d'une « tradition chrétienne » autochtone. Et c'est dans laconfrontation entre cette tradition chrétienne et les formes concurrentes duchristianisme mondial – mormones, adventistes et, surtout, évangéliques et


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charismatiques – que se joue désormais la redéfinition du christianisme local. Lechristianisme a donc changé en Océanie, et l'anthropologie du christianisme avec lui,qui a vu ces dernières années la constitution d'un nouveau corpus d'enquêtes deterrain, souvent réalisées par ceux que l'historienne australienne Bronwen Douglas adécrits comme des anthropologues « cleanskin » : des chercheurs pour qui lechristianisme s'est imposé d'emblée comme une caractéristique centrale des terrainsocéaniens, et une clé de compréhension majeure de ces sociétés insulaires (Douglas2001 : 620).

4 Dès lors, ce numéro 157 des Archives des sciences sociales des religions cherche avant

tout à prendre la mesure d'une double évolution – du christianisme océanien et desoutils conceptuels par lesquels nous en rendons compte – et à évaluer les enjeuxépistémologiques qu'elle représente, non seulement pour l'Océanie mais pluslargement pour l'analyse des reconfigurations actuelles du christianisme mondial.L'écho considérable qu'a rencontré, depuis sa parution en 2004, le livre de Joel Robbins,Becoming Sinners, Christianity and moral torment in a Papua New Guinea society 2, est une desmeilleures illustrations de ce changement de paradigme. Fondée sur une observationminutieuse des villages urapmin (dans la province de l'Ouest Sepik), l'anthropologie dela morale que propose J. Robbins ne cherche pas à rompre avec la notion de culturelocale ni à s'émanciper des exigences de l'ethnographie classique pour embrasserl'étude d'un christianisme « global » aux contours évasifs. Elle se définit au contrairecomme l'« ethnographie d'une culture chrétienne » (Robbins, 2004 : 27) et, par là,s'inscrit à la fois dans le champ de l'anthropologie océaniste et dans celui de l'analysecomparée des christianismes contemporains.

5 C'est dans cette même voie que nous engage Simon Coleman. Afin de donner à voir

d'emblée au lecteur les lignes directrices qui structurent la réflexion collective desauteurs de ce numéro, nous avons donc choisi de débuter l'exploration deschristianismes d'Océanie par l'analyse très stimulante qu'il en propose, à travers salecture croisée des articles rassemblés ici. On pourra ainsi lire l'ensemble du dossier àla lumière des questionnements que soulève S. Coleman, en particulier sous l'angle desrapports complexes que ces christianismes entretiennent avec les cultures locales, qu'ilenvisage dans une perspective dynamique, inscrites dans une histoire mêlantcontinuité et changement.

6 En 2006, une synthèse régionale coordonnée par le sociologue Manfred Ernst a permis

de mesurer l'ampleur des transformations actuelles du paysage religieux océanien, eten particulier à quel point l'essor récent des protestantismes évangéliques etcharismatiques bouscule aujourd'hui les termes du dialogue entre christianisme etculture sur lesquels les premières Églises ont bâti leur légitimité historique. Nous luiavons demandé d'en présenter les grandes lignes, pour que les lecteurs disposent d'unevision d'ensemble sur ces reconfigurations régionales.

7 Mon article et celui de John Barker éclairent ensuite les enjeux méthodologiques que

soulève cette pluralisation des christianismes océaniens – à la fois du point de vuediachronique (secondes conversions) et synchronique (concurrences et circulations) –,en s'intéressant plus précisément aux effets de la progression des courantsévangéliques/charismatiques. L'approche historicisée et multi-située que proposeJ. Barker répond bien aux injonctions apparemment contradictoires que nous adressentces christianismes océaniens, à la fois profondément inscrits dans des histoires et descultures locales, et partie prenante des circulations régionales ou globales ; porteurs


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d'appartenances collectives et agents d'une différenciation croissante des identitésindividuelles. Conçue comme un outil ad hoc pour appréhender des acteurs religieuxeux-mêmes multi-situés – les réseaux évangéliques, par exemple –, ou comme uneentreprise collective fondée sur des comparaisons raisonnées, cette perspectivethéorique inspire de fait l'ensemble des contributions de ce dossier. L'article deJacqueline Ryle, à travers l'analyse d'un rituel de réconciliation à Fidji, offre ainsi unesaisissante contre-plongée sur ces mêmes évolutions, en les appréhendant cette fois àpartir d'un événement local où se lit l'intrication étroite entre concurrence religieuseet rapport au passé, à la mémoire culturelle. La référence à la terre, en particulier, yapparaît comme un élément central autour duquel s'organise tout un travailsymbolique mettant en jeu le rapport au passé et les relations entre individus etcommunautés. Alors que s'amplifient les mouvements migratoires et les nouvellesmobilités individuelles, cette reterritorialisation des imaginaires religieux estparadoxalement l'un des lieux majeurs où se joue la confrontation entre lepentecôtisme et la « tradition chrétienne » océanienne, qui désormais ne se réduit plussimplement à une opposition entre enracinement culturel et émancipation/guérisonindividuelle.

8 Cette complexification des représentations culturelles et religieuses contemporaines

conduit progressivement l'anthropologie océaniste à s'avancer sur de nouveauxterrains où le christianisme, plus qu'un objet d'étude en soi, apporte un point de vueéclairant sur les continuités et les changements affectant les sociétés océaniennes : leschristianismes urbains, les logiques transnationales associées aux migrationsrégionales, les rapports de genre. Ce dernier domaine permet à lui seul de mesurerl'étendue des champs d'investigation qui s'ouvrent ainsi aux chercheurs : depuis lesfemmes chrétiennes urapmin ou ni-vanuatu décrites par J. Robbins jusqu'aux pasteurespolynésiennes d'une Nouvelle-Zélande urbaine et multiculturelle analysées parGwendoline Malogne-Fer, on aperçoit à la fois la richesse des terrains océaniens et ladiversité heuristique des approches théoriques qu'elle inspire. Le rôle des femmes et lesnormes de genre offrent en effet un point d'entrée essentiel à partir duquel il estpossible, comme le soulignent ces deux contributions, de revisiter les termes del'articulation entre christianisme, identités personnelles et culturelles, et rapports depouvoir.

9 Enfin, la contribution de Gilles Vidal conclut ce numéro en y apportant un éclairage

complémentaire des analyses anthropologiques et sociologiques précédentes, qui seplace sur le terrain de la missiologie, à mi-chemin entre les sciences sociales et lathéologie. Sa description des théologies contextuelles apparues à partir des années 1970au sein des Églises protestantes historiques d'Océanie permet de mieux saisir lesprincipes d'autonomie (agency) et de continuité culturelle qui orientent aujourd'huil'élaboration des identités chrétiennes océaniennes, à travers le cheminementd'intellectuels océaniens qui construisent, en dialogue avec l'évolution de la scènemondiale des théologies protestantes, une représentation militante du christianismecomme religion d'Océanie.


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BIBLIOGRAPHIE

BARKER John (éd.), 1990, Christianity in Oceania, Ethnographic Perspectives, Lanham, University Press

of America.

BARKER John, 2007, commentaire de J. Robbins, « Continuity Thinking and the Problem of

Christian Culture. Belief, Time and the Anthropology of Christianity », Current Anthropology vol.

48/1, p. 18.

DOUGLAS Bronwen, 2001, « From Invisible Christians to Gothic Theatre, the Romance of the

Millenial in Melanesian Anthropology », Current Anthropology vol. 42/5, p. 615-650.

ERNST Manfred, 2006, Globalization and the Re-shaping of Christianity in the Pacific Islands, Pacific

Theological College, Suva (Fidji).

FER Yannick, 2010, compte rendu de J. Robbins, Becoming Sinners (2004), Archives des sciences

sociales des religions no 148, p. 296-298.

ROBBINS Joel, 2004, Becoming Sinners. Christianity and moral torment in a Papua New Guinea society,

Berkeley, Los Angeles, University of California Press.

NOTES

1. Les articles de ce dossier thématique sur les christianismes en Océanie sont issus, après un

travail collectif de réécriture, des communications données lors de journées d'étude organisées

les 30 et 31 mai 2008 à Paris avec le soutien de l'Institut de recherche interdisciplinaire sur les

enjeux sociaux (IRIS), du Groupe sociétés, religions, laïcités (GSRL), du Réseau Asie-Pacifique.

2. Pour un compte rendu de ce livre et des débats qu'il a suscités, voir : Fer, 2010.

AUTEUR

YANNICK FER

Groupe Sociétés, Religions, Laïcités, EPHE, CNRS, [email protected]


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mailto:[email protected]

Christianities in Oceania: HistoricalGenealogies and AnthropologicalInsularitiesChristianismes en Océanie : généalogies historiques et insularités

anthropologiques

Cristianismo en Oceanía: genealogías históricas e insularidades antropológicas

Simon Coleman

Introduction: The History of Islands

1 I have a much treasured, if diminutive, volume on my bookshelves. Its title is A

Narrative of the Voyages Round the World, Performed by Captain James Cook and it waswritten by Andrew Kippis, a prolific British author of the latter half of the eighteenthcentury. My edition—one of many produced in the nineteenth century, reflecting thelasting popularity of the book—was published in London, probably in the 1820s.Alongside the details of Cook's adventures, the book contains a striking document in itsopening pages: a “letter” dated June 13, 1788, addressed to no less a personage thanGeorge III. In this short addition to the text, Kippis dedicates his work to the monarchwhose patronage is said to have enabled Cook to execute his “vast undertakings”, andgoes on to list the achievements of His Majesty's reign—the many “improvements” andforms of “advancement” and “progress” that have “rendered the name of Britainfamous in every quarter of the globe”. Warming to his subject, Kippis asserts theignorance of “any persons who... would depreciate the present times, in comparisonwith those which have preceded them.”

2 Why invoke Kippis's now mostly forgotten work in reflecting upon the significance of

the papers in this special issue? One answer is geographical. Kippis's book takes thereader round the world, following Cook's three voyages, and towards the end hedescribes the “melancholy accident” (p. 357) of the latter's death in Hawaii, themurderous conclusion to a life that began in Yorkshire and ended at the northern edge


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of the Polynesian Triangle. Another answer, however, relates to the ways in whichKippis—a Presbyterian minister as well as a biographer—characterizes the significanceof Cook's life and death. As he puts it:

The Connexion which has been opened up with these remote inhabitants of theworld is the first step toward their improvement; and consequences may flow fromit, which are beyond our present conceptions. Perhaps, our late voyages may be themeans appointed by Providence, of spreading, in due time, the blessings ofcivilization among the numerous tribes of the South Pacific Ocean, and preparingthem for holding an honourable rank among the nations of the earth... Nothing canmore essentially contribute to the attainment of this great end, than a wise andrational introduction of the Christian religion (p. 380).

3 These words are far removed in time and tone from the articles produced in this special

issue, but they have significant thematic and even genealogical links with such works,which focus on religious innovations in the context of cultural change in contemporaryOceania. Writing in and for the inhabitants of one island located at one side of theAtlantic, Kippis orientates his readers temporally and geographically towards otherislands, other cultural worlds. And if he surely saw Britain as the centre of his—if notthe—world as well as of both divine and regal destiny, Kippis was prescient enough tosuggest that the future might hold intriguing if unknown potential. Not only might theconnection made with such remote peoples lead to consequences 1 beyond theimagination of the day, but the “tribes” of the South Pacific might be converted into“nations” of the earth, partners in a global order and a rapidly accelerating temporalitythat Cook's voyages helped both to delineate and, arguably, bring into existence.Kippis, after all, was writing at a pregnant moment in Western history, not only theheroic period of a burgeoning Enlightenment and expanding British empire, but alsoone that had (rather more troublingly for His Majesty) seen the liberation of theAmerican “colonies”—political entities whose own empire would expand and globalizeover a century later under the banner of the United States.

4 In addition to the royal authority, naval exploration and incipient commercial

transactions that Kippis describes, one further element is present, and it is one that hesees as pre-eminent in significance: that of Christianity, assumed to be the idealconduit through which to spread the blessings of civilization itself, and able toencompass, indeed to constitute, a wider culture of British civility, honour and evenrationality. Overt expressions of faith do not play a very prominent part of the text ofVoyages Round the World, but it is notable that they emerge here towards the end,providing a teleological motivation for the voyages “performed” by Cook andinterpreted by Kippis.

5 So we have now encountered the following intersections: Christianity as a vehicle for

literal and metaphorical mobility but also in dialogue with “culture”; Western notionsof the modern alongside other histories; progress and Providence juxtaposed with asense of temporal contingency; all are present in this eighteenth century account of thelife of Cook 2 but also to a greater or lesser extent across the various case studiesprovided in this special issue, which encompass not merely the South Pacific butOceania to its fullest extent. And arguably the same fundamental question is beingasked by Kippis and the authors here: What difference does Christianity make—to“culture”, to relations with the state or the nation, to the self?

6 Naturally, we know that the “world” we describe has been transformed from Kippis's

day—it is much smaller, proceeds more quickly, is subject to forms of space-time


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compression that have rendered the distances travelled by Cook commonplace.Furthermore, whereas Kippis describes a Pacific region before the advent and diffusionof Christianity, many of the contexts described in this special issue belong to areaswhere Christianity now has a complex and long-standing history, has become part ofthe religio-political landscape that contemporary believers inhabit and sometimesreact against. So the question often becomes “What difference has Christianity madeand how does its previous existence influence what impact it might have in thefuture?” Kippis and the present contributors peer through different ends of thisparticular tunnel of history, but both force us to reflect not only upon Christianity'spast but also at how its followers interpret—constitute—that past even while promotingpossibilities of change at personal and much wider levels of culture and society.

7 There is of course another book, written some two hundred years after Kippis's

account, that also deals with Cook's travels to Hawaii. In Islands of History (1985),Marshall Sahlins spends rather more time than Kippis on the death of the Englishexplorer, seeing in the latter's demise some clues as to what might happen when twocultures with very different historicities come into a kind of conjunction. In the contextof this volume, the death of Cook provides a curious parallel with the death of theAustralian Methodist minister Thomas Baker, whose murder in Fiji in 1867—and thesubsequent historical consequences and attempts at cross-cultural reconciliation,hoping to lay the ghosts of the past, that have continued to this day—are so richlyexamined by Jacqueline Ryle. But if Sahlins's Cook represents a kind of Deus ex Machina

in the context of Hawaiian society, a heroic if also tragic presage of sometimesrewarding, sometimes threatening contacts from other cultures, it is now impossible(assuming it was ever actually feasible) to see any of the islands that make up Oceaniaas insulated from “the world”. Flows of cultural exchange move in all directions in,through and from the region. Furthermore, in his contribution to this special issue,Manfred Ernst notes that the majority of the world's two billion Christians are found nolonger in Europe and North America but in Asia/Oceania, Africa, and Latin America/the Caribbean: the spiritual and the intellectual centre of Christianity seems to bemoving to the southern hemisphere, to islands and land masses that are themselves farfrom Kippis's home.

8 Despite his focus on Hawaii's past, Sahlins's concern with the historicities of cultural

reproduction alongside the contingencies of change surely remains relevant for us aswe see how contributors examine Christianity as a potential agent of transformation inthe region. This is not merely a parochial question, of course. Most recently, debatesover the role of Christianity as potential catalyst for cultural and societal change havehelped to constitute the fledgling sub-discipline of the anthropology of Christianity 3,and have been most clearly articulated with reference to forms of Pentecostalist andCharismatic worship that also figure prominently in the papers presented here. ThusJosé Casanova (2001: 434) has argued that Pentecostalism, as supposedly a highlydecentralized religion, with no territorial roots as such, may well become thepredominant global form of Christianity of the twenty-first century. In the process, itmust engage not only with previous religious regimes but also with the economic,technological and social transformations that both challenge and constitute itsactivities within globalized (post-)modernity. Birgit Meyer (1999; see also Ryle'sdiscussion, this issue) famously expresses the ambiguities of Ewe believers in Ghanacaught between familial, social and religious ties and the demands of the moderncapitalist economy, arguing that Pentecostalism provides a complex bridge between


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new and old worlds, allowing such worlds to remain in mutual contact andconsciousness. Robbins presents a stronger case for the possibility of ruptures,discontinuities, caused by conversion to Pentecostalism, so that Pentecostal culture isdescribed (2004: 117) as simultaneously preserving its distinctness from the culturesinto which it comes into contact and engaging those cultures on their own terms, withthe ultimate aim of a revalorization of the traditional spirit realms being encountered.Indeed, discourse on rupture becomes an important way in which Pentecostalismglobalizes, making it in these terms a “culture against culture” (ibid.: 127).

9 I suggest that what we see in the papers gathered together for this volume is not just a

tracking of the past and present fate of different forms of Protestantism in Oceania, butalso a rich exploration of the complex modulations of Christian—and more particularlythough not exclusively Protestant, at least in these pieces—orientations to what isperceived (and constructed) by believers as “culture”. And what emerges is a moresubtle exploration of Christianities in relation to cultural change than might beexpressed by straightforward arguments over continuity or rupture per se. Some of thesubtlety and interest emerges, as noted, because a version of Christianity often formspart of the “culture” that already exists in a given context. Here, the observations madeby John Barker about the blending of history and ethnography are particularlypertinent, and his noting that ethnohistorical research has demonstrated thatcontemporary “traditions” in Pacific Island communities have been deeply influencedby Christianity, just as local understandings of Christianity may bear the imprints ofindigenous conceptions of spiritual realities even when converts consciously struggleto wholly abandon their previous cultures. Barker's position is partly that identity inMelanesia has always been a “work in progress”, but also that in most rural areas, newevangelists encounter cultural orders that already incorporate Christianity—a situationthat inevitably shapes the reception of new versions of the religion. This standpointcorresponds, as he notes, with the “historical turn” in Melanesian ethnography, but wemight also be reminded of Sahlins's pithy summation of the semiotic history of theHawaiian context (1985: 147): “There is no such thing as an immaculate perception.”

10 In the following, therefore, I aim to respond further to the articles in this special issue

in three ways. First, I wish briefly to explore some of the common threads of widercultural, social, economic and religious change that authors take as significant in theirpapers. We might now take it for granted that no society can ever exist in perfect stasis;but what are the significant and marked features of change that authors agree areinfluencing contemporary Oceania? This exploration then provides the context for myanalysis of what the authors, taken as a whole, tell us about Christianity and change.Here, I am particularly interested in the question of how Christians themselves viewthe past in relation to the present and future, as it seems to me that the contributionsoften reveal how such comparison itself is a mode of chronic “self-making” praxis forthe believers being described. Finally, I consider how these papers might help us toreflect on the methodological and analytical challenges of studying Christianity inrelation to change. As an anthropologist, I am particularly concerned with how asethnographers we might escape from some of our own intellectual islands—our owninsular assumptions about how we define our objects of study.


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Worlds of Change

11 The pieces provided in this issue cover Oceania but within that regional framework

they explore a considerable variety of cultural contexts, from Auckland (which, asYannick Fer notes, became the largest Polynesian city in the world during the 1970s) tothe much more isolated community of the Urapmin studied by Robbins in Papua NewGuinea. Generally, we come to understand how all such contexts are affected, directlyor indirectly, by urbanization, which has encouraged as well as been constituted byhigh levels of migration from rural areas 4. A startling result of such movements—sometemporary, some permanent; some international, some more local—is that Oceaniaappears to have the largest concentration of immigrants in its population of any regionin the world, many of them living in Australia and New Zealand. Pointing to thepossible factors behind such developments, Manfred Ernst refers to rapid changes insociety caused by World War II, prompted by both military and commercial impulses.In his analysis, the need to produce army supplies not only resulted in the developmentof infrastructure and jobs, but also exposed local populations to new notions of equalityand self-determination derived from a new proximity to Western allies. Subsequently,the economic boom of the 1960s involved rapid urbanization and internal migrationalongside the greater introduction of cash and wages systems. Gwendoline Malogne-Feralso refers to migration from the Pacific Islands after the Second World War insketching the background to her fascinating discussion of the complex articulations ofdiscourses relating to minority rights, multiculturalism and Christianity in NewZealand. While Gilles Vidal and Jacqueline Ryle do not refer to these issues relating tomigration quite as directly in their discussions of Polynesian contexts, the issues doseem to form a background to their very different discussions of the changingtrajectories of Christianity, for instance in Vidal's analysis of the historical, culturaland geographical factors behind the development of a “Pacific theology”, or Ryle'stracing of challenges to vanua in Fiji in contexts of changing temporal and geographicalrelations.

12 Barker's piece addresses a longer durée of missionary history, and is explicitly oriented

towards Melanesia, but again we see shifts in population towards towns and “modern”markets (documented also by Wardlow [2006], whose work Robbins draws upon)—indeed, for Barker such shifts should also encourage ethnographers to reflect on how toconduct fieldwork in the new urban churches that have extended their reach acrossregional networks 5. At the same time, he raises questions about the shifting religio-political role of missions which have resonances for other pieces in this volume. Inparticular, how do individual missions vie for authority and function in relation tocolonial, and then post-colonial, governments? The answer need not always imply aloss of legitimacy or a move in the direction of secularization. Thus from the mid-1960sthe decolonization of established missions promoted indigenous clergy to positions ofleadership and towards setting the grounds for the emergence of national churches inMelanesia. How national churches as well as governments vie in turn for legitimacy instill more globally oriented economic, cultural, political and religious spheres ofoperation becomes a further question for researchers of the contemporary situation toanswer. For his part, Barker notes the prominence of Christianity in the nationalculture of Papua New Guinea—in popular media and politics—and the prominence ofChristian references in campaign posters for a national election in 2007. Ernst also


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remarks on the fact that, since gaining independence, leaders of the Pacific Islandshave drawn heavily on Christianity in formulating and shaping their political cultures,while governments have welcomed such travelling evangelists as Benny Hinn orReinhard Bonnke as they address large rallies, all the while being treated as equivalentto heads of state.

13 Urbanization, marketization, migration, politicization, re-/neo-Pentecostalization—all

imply new forms of association, potential fragmentation of ethnic and territorial formsof belonging, challenges constituted by new and mobile populations to the continuingsocial, political and religious salience of generations both physically older and relianton more traditional forms of legitimacy. As we have seen, the legitimacy, rootednessand relevance of Christianity are all subject to renegotiation as urban and ruralcontexts in Oceania encounter the kinds of significant shifts documented bycontributors to this volume, often towards forms that appear initially to stress a born-again experience divorced from immediate social, ethnic and spatial ties, orientedtowards a world whose horizons reach beyond even those of the Pacific. Thus Fer refersto the transition—he calls it the evolution, though if so it is often reminiscent of a formof punctuated equilibrium—from “historical” Pentecostalism towards the latestcharismatic waves associated demographically and ideologically with images of youth 6.But if there is a clear message that emerges from the papers taken as a whole it issurely that such processes do not result in a one-way stream of history towards aglobally homogeneous form of modernization, secularization, or even necessarily anyparticular form of Christianization. Oceania may, as Ernst implies, provide a usefulmicrocosm for examining processes occurring in the world as a whole, but that doesnot mean that the microcosm provides a unitary set of responses to these agents ofchange, or that such apparent globality combined with an overt focus on “theindividual” must imply neglect of proximate social concerns. Thus, much of Malogne-Fer's paper is taken up by examining differential attitudes to female ministry amongchurches attempting precisely to negotiate their identities in a country, New Zealand,marked by dynamics of secularization and religious pluralization.

14 Here, reference to the work of a scholar who has devoted much of his attention to

examining processes of religious migration in another part of the world may be useful.Manuel Vasquez (2008: 165) notes that in providing infra-structural support for andentering into transnational, global or diasporic flows, religion may involve a responseto dislocation through transposing sacred spaces from nation of origin to nation ofsettlement; or it may help to form transnational social fields, new spaces of sociabilitygenerated through chains of ties spanning multiple nation-states. It may be involved inthe emergence of new and hybrid forms of identity, which combine hitherto disparatecosmologies, ritual practices, and institutional forms; or it may lead to thereaffirmation of “old” identities in diaspora, through recovery and/or invention ofprimordial origins. Such modalities may occur in the same context serially or evensimultaneously. The point is to avoid deterministic approaches to any religious form asit responds to but is also realized through mobility. Nor should we see the analysis ofreligions as exhausted by revealing their social and cultural effects, or in some casesthe apparent lack of them. Yet, acknowledging the varied consequences of religiousaffiliation in times of mobility, as well as the complexities of the analysis, does notimply that we should remove religion from considerations of causality entirely, for


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instance seeing it as purely epiphenomenal, irrelevant to flows of history or rupturesthat may create transformation as much as reproduction.

15 In the following, I follow just one route through the possible pathways of exploring the

relationship between contemporary Oceanic Protestantisms and change, and it is oneprompted by a phrase I invoked much earlier in relation to the Anthropology ofChristianity as a whole: that of (Pentecostalism as a) “culture against culture”. Ofcourse there are a number of assumptions contained even within such a short phrase.First, there is the sense that Pentecostalism or any form of Christianity might somehowexist beyond a particular or alternative form of culture. Then there is the impliednotion of a kind of temporality, a sense that a new form of faith can supersede what hasgone before, perhaps in a totalizing fashion. And yet, as we noted above, there is muchambiguity contained in the single word “against”. Does it mean simple replacement, orrevalorization, or competition between actually rather similar cultural forms, or amore long-lasting engagement—even a moiety—between opposites 7? Or a combinationof such orientations? In my view, the contributions to this issue allow us to reflect onthese questions in a way that permits us to see the complexities and nuances—even thecontradictions—of such orientations, as we see how Christians wrestle withmanifestations of the past and the present that have ontological significance, and thatdepend on a frequently conscious form of self-construction through comparisonbetween self and temporal, cultural, and religious others. Another way of putting this isthat I am interested in how the papers juxtapose versions of history (processes ofreproduction and transformation over time evident in any given cultural field) withreligiously-motivated historiographies (how Christians themselves understand andconstruct the present in relation to the past, often in ways that have performativeeffects both in the present and indeed on history as I have defined it). But rather thanconfining myself to the notion of Christianity (or even Pentecostalism) acting onlyagainst culture I want to explore the distinctions and resonances among threeorientations: those of being “of”, “against” and “for” culture—with the latter termimplying the widest sense of what is perceived to be the prevailing set of religious,economic, social and ethnic arrangements in a given context. By “being of” culture Imean a state close to that assumed (and claimed) by Kippis for the relationship between(Protestant) Christianity and British civilization, a sense of the co-constitution of thetwo, even if one ultimately has greater moral legitimacy. By “being against” I meantaking a stance in opposition to a prior religious, social, etc. arrangement, such as a“traditional” religious form that is deemed to be idolatrous by believers. As we haveseen, Pentecostalists in particular may invoke traditional forms, indicating theircontinued power, but also provide them with a new and negatively charged moralvalency. By “being for” I mean the decision to deploy culture as a resource, this timegiving it a positive moral charge, thus expressing the Christian message through areconstruction or redeployment of such culture in an often creative way. I argue thateach of these stances can be discerned at various points in the articles in this specialissue; but also that the interesting points of articulation are frequently those that blurthe boundaries between such orientations, in ways that can also challenge theboundaries between cultural reproduction and transformation.


12

Christianities: Of, Against, and For Culture

16 Let me take each of these orientations in turn. To exemplify a form of Christianity that

can be regarded as “of” its surrounding culture I invoke Ryle's discussion of the “threesolid foundations” of Fiji society, Church, Government and Culture. These are depictedas interwoven in a bulubulu, a ritual of reconciliation described in a national newspaperwhere tradition and the Church can come together, even as their murderous separationin the past (resulting for instance in the death of Baker) is subject to a remodelling inthe present. Similarly, Ryle refers to another bulubulu that takes place at the MethodistChurch Conference in 1996, in which some 500 people publicly atoned for a sincommitted against a white plantation owner—a sin that had occurred after theirancestors had been Christianized in the nineteenth century. Among the interestingfeatures of these ceremonies is the simultaneous acceptance that Methodism has aparticular, delimited history in Fiji—a beginning that can be documented—and yet canparticipate in and be in some sense enacted through traditional forms of ritual. Indeed,Bush, inspired by one of the theologians discussed by Gilles Vidal (Tuwere), relates thetraditional bulubulu explicitly to Christian notions of sin and salvation. Similarly, Rylenotes that many Fijians see the Kalou (Christian God) in very much the same way asthey view their Kalou Vu (ancestral Gods).

17 The point here is not to see such Christianity in Fiji as either static or as existing

without conflict or critique; but it is to emphasize the extent to which a conscious andmutual assimilation of categories can take place, and one which sees continued value insuch complementarity—such interweaving—rather than simple appropriation by one ofthe other. Christianity is thus expressed through semiotic forms explicitly derived fromwhat is seen as a pre-existing cultural framework. Although precise comparisons arenot possible, it is intriguing that in his piece John Barker discusses the ways in which inAustralia and Canada some seminaries and programmes at theological colleges fosterthe exploration of connections between religious traditions and Christianity as apositive good, and suggests that “similar surprises may await us if we open our eyes tothe possibility in Melanesia” 8. In the Pākehā churches described by Malogne-Fer, beingof Polynesian origin may actually be interpreted as having a genuine Christian identity,and a “natural” capacity to work for the church.

18 It is fair to say, on the other hand, that much of the emphasis of papers in this volume

has been on examples of Christianity “against” culture, even in opposition to culturethat clearly contains forms of Christian faith. Of course, there is a particular temporaldimension to this emphasis that is internal to Christianity itself, as papers frequentlycontrast long-established and “bureaucratized” Christian organizations with forms ofexplicit revival. However, the more interesting point is to see the different andnuanced ways such revivalist forms can themselves pose in opposition to existingcircumstances.

19 The piece by Joel Robbins deals—among many other things—with a context of dramatic

conversion (in the case of the Urapmin) at quite a detailed level of cultural analysis,and it provides us with a case-study where we can examine the extent to whichChristianity qua Christianity acts through opposition to previous cultural forms.Robbins notes for instance that just as gender once organized Urapmin understandingof various fundamental aspects of life, such as kinds of food, technology, knowledge,places, and ways of life, these are now understood through the black/white opposition


13

—a totalizing shift in itself. Christianity is not to be held solely responsible for thischange since political and economic dimensions of the colonial process were alsosignificant in bringing it about. And yet the new religion helps to make this oppositioncoherent for the Urapmin: Christianity comes from the white world, and because Jesusis white, the black/white opposition becomes cosmologically anchored. With theabandonment of traditional religion we see the replacement of male rituals thatthemselves once rooted gender differences in cosmological dramas given the Christianinsistence that all people, no matter what gender, are responsible to the same extentfor their own salvation. What is interesting here is not just the extent to which adramatic movement “against” previous aspects of culture is taking place, but also themeta-message of Robbins's analysis: he is explicitly defining changes in cultural valuesas central to wider processes of cultural transformation.

20 Others present more “gradualist” analyses of opposition as transformation 9. Thus

Barker's historical analysis looks at previous contexts of Christian diffusion as well asthose of the present. He notes how over time the Church became a familiar fixture oflocal life in Melanesia, providing people with a new centre of identity focused upon thevillage and associated organizations rather than on kin groups and exchangessponsored by big men. The kind of Christianity that gradually became “of” culture ininsular and lowlands Melanesia—strongly associated and in places conflated with localethnic and political identities—was also in due course likely to be relatively resistant to“third phase evangelists” whose arrival might be perceived as a challenge, not just tofaith but also acting “against” (my word) community unity. Here the juxtaposition oftwo rather different paradigms of Christianity, “of” and “against” culture, is hardlywithout its ironies, as Barker notes that events today may appear reminiscent of earlymissionary encounters—history repeating itself, but with a vicious twist. The new, welleducated, mainly conservative evangelical Christians regard the long-established localChurch with its toleration of kastom as little better than paganism.

21 Barker's piece, then, presents different forms of Christianity in interaction, with the

new reframing the “tradition” represented by the old. Here I think we encounter auseful parallel with Ryle's discussion of bulubulu, for there is indeed also a sting in thetail of her description of the contemporary fate of this reconciliation ceremony. Theritual performed in 2003 for the unfortunate and long-dead (but certainly notforgotten) Reverend Baker was, she notes, markedly different from former“traditional” reconciliations, not least because Pentecostal and Methodist pastors ledvillagers in a period of prayer prior to the ceremony itself. Thus the efficacy oftraditional ritual forms was ultimately challenged in the present, and the continuingaims of reconciliation and healing of the land were seen by some as realizable onlythrough preparatory rites such as the identification of sin, confession, fasting, praying,individual reconciliation with God, and communal reconciliation. The explanation byReverend Kurulo of the Christian Mission Fellowship is striking in its deployment of ametaphor at once spatially and theologically charged, and moreover one that refers toorienting the moral gaze “away” from (indeed, “against”) certain forms of culturalentanglement. Previous forms of forgiveness are said to have occurred at “horizontal”(i.e. social, sometimes reciprocal) rather than “vertical” ( i.e. divinely oriented,individualized and self-empowering) levels. We see how an invocation of “traditional”culture and a form of spiritual warfare are achieved through the same set of actions,and how reconciliation with one aspect of the past (the murder of a missionary) isexorcism of another aspect (that of the salience of ancestral spiritual power) 10. This all


14

adds up to a remaking of the future course of history through a performative religioushistoriography, in other words one where the relationship of the past to the present isinvoked only to be dislocated/relocated. As Ryle points out, one of the ironies of thisadjustment in relation to the past is that it occurs through extensive ritual action—thekind of action that Pentecostalists often claim to avoid. Being “against” culture is morecomplex and ambivalent than it might first appear, as indeed both Robbins and Meyerappreciate.

22 How, then, might we think finally of how charismatic and neo-Pentecostal Christians

act creatively “for” culture, in ways that go beyond a negation of the moral valency ofpast spirit and ritual forms? In this respect, I find Fer's discussion of the movementcalled Island Breeze fascinating. He notes that the reluctance of younger generations inthe Polynesian Islands to accept hierarchical elder authority can yet encompass a morecomplex redefinition of the links between culture and religion, involving therehabilitation of bodily expressions like dances as an authentic way to be bothChristian and Polynesian. This seems to be occurring at the intersection of local andmore “global” or at least diasporic cultural pressures. Thus Fer documents how IslandBreeze was launched in 1979 by the American Samoan Sosene Le'au, after he had beenin contact with a New Zealander leader of Youth With a Mission and attended a school ofevangelism at the YWAM campus in Kona, Big Island. Sosene Le'au began by leading hisown school, training a mixed group of twelve students that included a majority ofSamoans and two Hawaiians. It is notable that most of these students came from amainline Protestant familial background but had converted to Pentecostal churchesthat did not welcome—were “against”—Polynesian cultural expressions. The studentswere thus seeking a way to re-establish a link with what they perceived to be theircultural heritage within the framework of a predominantly Western CharismaticProtestantism. Thus, during ritual praise, notes Fer, they began to move and dance in aPolynesian way. And this ritual action itself became an embodied semiotic form thatcould become mobile, could migrate into new contexts and become a means ofevangelical outreach among young Christians in the Pacific.

23 Thus Island Breeze began to go on tour, and the combination of Charismatic

Protestantism and “cultural expressions” has often been understood by youth as a wayto challenge “tradition” but also to demonstrate their own understanding of culture.Heritage is thereby invested with Spirit—and one that itself invokes self-consciouslyarticulated culture alongside a valorization of individual choice. In my terms, again, aperformative ritualized historiography is articulated, and one that is helping to mouldthe history of evangelical expressions in the Pacific. Island Breeze even seems capableof being assimilated within the global evangelical paradigm of new birth, and in thissense it indicates the complexities of the social and religious fields towards whichyoung migrants must direct their gaze, from more local Pacific communities to widercircles of Indigenous Peoples who are recognized within globally-oriented definitionsof human rights and claims.

24 It might seem that Fer's discussion of Island Breeze is a cultural world away from

Vidal's depiction of trajectories in the work of Pacific theologians. Yet, I would arguethat both cases present parallels if seen through the analytical lens of working “for”culture. Vidal states that he regards theology as a privileged locus of observation of theevolution of Christianity in Oceania, but we might also see it as creating, constituting,such Christianity not at the level of evangelically-tinged popular culture (see Island


15

Breeze) but at the level of elite intellectual production. Pacific Theology and IslandBreeze, although ideologically distinct, are both creations by cultural “entrepreneurs”acting in the context of the intersections of Western and Oceanic landscapes, traditionsand ways of thinking. If Island Breeze seeks the positive in Pacific cultural expressions—in a sense acknowledging the “horizontal” as well as the “vertical” plane ofexpression, even if on evangelical terms—Pacific theology generally seeks to avoidparochialism while appealing to locally rooted imagery—“coconut theology”—in thedevelopment of an autochthonous gospel that is not seen as an oxymoron. Thus thepositioning of the theology and its gaze towards worlds beyond the region aresimultaneously expressed in the sense, following Tuwere, that: “Il doit y avoir un liendirect entre l'Océanie et Israël, et non via Sydney, Londres ou Rome.”

25 These modulations of Christianity, “of”, “against” and “for” culture explore the degrees

to which especially contemporary Pentecostalism negotiates its relationship to whatare seen as proximate social landscapes and/or histories of given contexts. The very actof distinguishing a given form of Christianity from other faiths or attitudesdemonstrates the actual impossibility of achieving autonomy from such social andcultural worlds. Here, then, we might also be reminded of Dilley's (1999) exploration ofthe mutual implication of context and interpretation, of how disconnections as well asconnections are constantly being made and remade in social life as well as socialscientific analysis, with political as well as historical consequences.

Insular Anthropology?

26 I finish with some very brief reflections on what this collection of papers can say to

anthropology as a whole, lifting our gaze from regional to broader intellectualhorizons. Some points are obvious but are perhaps worth stating. For instance we arebeing asked to reflect upon comparison at very different temporal and geographicalscales, from small societies to whole nations and regions, but it seems reasonable toargue that this juxtaposition of fields of inquiry is indeed a powerful way to grasp whatmay—or may not—be the influence of “Christianity” in a given region. Such comparisonis occurring even though we can appreciate how the possibility of isolating any“bounded” field, temporally or historically, is in practice problematic and contingent.Barker makes this point in another way in his invocation of John Peel's Religious

Encounter and the Making of the Yoruba, where Peel notes (2000: 24) that the study ofChristianity in Nigeria necessarily involves the analyst coming upon people in themiddle of something: history in Nigeria, or Hawaii, or Oceania as a whole, clearly doesnot begin or become definitively defined by the arrival and actions of Europeancolonialists.

27 Mention of Nigeria prompts me to point out a forms of comparison that I think is

largely inchoate in the papers of this special issue, but is there at least as apotentiality 11. That is the possibility of framing a study of Oceania not through itscontacts (only) with the West, but also through a consideration of how it mightcompare with other “Southern” regions where migration, marketization andPentecostalization are also proceeding apace, such as West Africa. This form ofjuxtaposition has already been suggested by Corten and Marshall-Fratani (2001; in theircase between Africa and Latin America), but clearly there is much more work to bedone that adopts such an approach. At the same time, I was struck by the relative lack


16

of explicit “internal” comparison between regions covered by papers in this volume,between Melanesia and Polynesia. Nonetheless, as the papers indicate powerfully andclearly, there is much to be gained in considering how they form a “region” that can beanalyzed in its own right and yet also contains histories and historiographies thatresonate further as we attempt to understand globalization, migration andPentecostalization in our own ethnographic voyages around the world.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

CASANOVA Jose, 2001, “Religion, the New Millennium, and Globalization”, Soc. Relig. 62, p. 415-41.

CANNELL Fenella, 2005, “The Christianity of Anthropology”. Journal of the Royal Anthropological

Institute, 11 (3), p. 335-356.

CANNELL Fenella, 2006, “Introduction: The Anthropology of Christianity” in Fenella Cannell (ed.),

The Anthropology of Christianity, Durham and London, Duke University Press, p. 1-50.

COLEMAN Simon, 2000, The Globalisation of Charismatic Christianity. Spreading the Gospel of Prosperity.

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

COLEMAN Simon, 2006, “Studying Global Pentecostalism”, PentecoStudies 5 (1), p. 1-17.

COLEMAN Simon, 2010, “‘Right Now!’: Historio-praxy and the Embodiment of Charismatic

Temporalities”, Ethnos, 76 (4), p. 416-447.

CORTEN Andre and MARSHALL-FRATANI Ruth (eds.), 2001, Between Babel and Pentecost: Transnational

Pentecostalism in Africa and Latin America, Bloomington, Indiana University Press.

HANN Chris, 2007, “The Anthropology of Christianity Per Se”, Arch. Europ. Sociol. XLVIII (3), p.

383-410.

KIPPIS Andrew, (Possibly 1826), Narrative of the Voyages Round the World, Performed by Captain James

Cook: with an Account of His Life During the Previous and Intervening Periods, London, C. and

C. Whittingham.

MEYER Birgit, 1999, Translating the Devil: Religion and Modernity Among the Ewe in Ghana, Edinburgh,

Edinburgh University Press.

PEEL J.D.Y., 2000, Religious Encounter and the Making of the Yoruba, Bloomington, Indiana University

Press.

PINXTEN Rik and DIKOMITIS Lisa (eds.), 2009, When God Comes to Town: Religious Traditions in Urban

Contexts, Oxford, Berghahn.

ROBBINS Joel, 2003, “What is a Christian? Notes toward an Anthropology of Christianity”, Religion

33, p. 191-199.

ROBBINS Joel, 2004, “The Globalization of Pentecostal and Charismatic Christianity”, Annual Review

of Anthropology, 33, p. 117-143.


17

ROBBINS Joel, 2007, “Continuity Thinking and the Problem of Christian Culture: Belief, Time and

the Anthropology of Christianity”, Current Anthropology, 48 (1), p. 5-17.

SAHLINS Marshall, 1985, Islands of History, Chicago, Chicago University Press.

VASQUEZ Manuel, 2008, “Studying Religion in Motion: A Networks Approach”, Method and Theory in

the Study of Religion 20, p. 151-84.

WARDLOW Holly, 2006, Wayward Women: Sexuality and Agency in a New Guinea Society, Berkeley,

University of California Press.

WETHERELL David, 1977, Reluctant Mission: The Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea, 1891-1942, St.

Lucia, University of Queensland Press.

NOTES

1. Such consequences include the gathering of scholars who have produced this special issue,

since ethnographic interest has often followed the histories of colonial and post-colonial

landscapes.

2. An explorer whose name is itself commemorated in the name of a group of South Pacific

islands.

3. For wider discussions see e.g. Robbins (2003, 2007); Cannell (2005, 2006); Hann (2007).

4. For a recent consideration of religion in urban contexts, see Pinxten and Dikomitis (2009).

5. Barker also makes some fascinating points about mission, notions of the rural and home

society. He states for instance that many European missionaries conceived of their task in rural

terms, as resistance to the “evils” of the rapid industrialization and migration to the cities that

were occurring in their home countries. For example, and drawing on Wetherell (1977), he notes

that Anglican bishops believed they saw in Papuan villages the image of a medieval English

village with the priest paternally watching over the souls of his flock.

6. Here, there are some parallels with my own analysis of shifts between classical

Pentecostalism and newer, more overtly globalizing, charismatic forms in Sweden, where revival

has been associated with younger generations but also attempts to escape from the chains of

history that are seen to bind now established Pentecostal congregations (e.g. Coleman 2000;

forthcoming). This is of course a classic trope of the bureaucratization of charisma and, in turn,

the charismatic response.

7. For a discussion of Pentecostalism as a “part-culture”, inevitably in dialogue with other

cultural forms, see Coleman 2006.

8. Here the connections with my category of acting “for” culture are evident; the difference is

one of degree, but it revolves around the extent to which connections are acknowledged (being

“of” culture) or are actively created in ways seen to be novel (being “for”).

9. Yannick Fer perhaps provides an example in between the gradualist and more rupture-

oriented depictions of transformation. He refers initially to the evangelical “new birth” paradigm

that, in Polynesia, as anywhere else, involves a form of conversion encouraging the believer to

distance themselves from compulsory memberships that previously defined their identity. This

paradigm might therefore lead to a “weakening of cultural boundaries”—or we might rather say

the replacement of one set of cultural boundaries with another—and yet, as Fer notes, a

“reformulation” rather than a mere rejection of “Pacific culture” might also be favoured.

10. Fer also explores the ambiguities of the relations between new forms of evangelicalism and

older social ties. He states that, in rural and remote areas, missionary work often does not begin

with massive open air meetings, but through the less visible influence of converts coming back to

their village or their island. While mobility has enabled them to distance themselves from


18

traditional structures of authority, they still have a place, a latent role within local kinship and

solidarity networks. Thus they can use this ambivalent positioning to spread new beliefs within

their community.

11. Another inchoate form of comparison, not explored here, is that between anthropology and

theology, since Vidal's work is included in this issue.

ABSTRACTS

I explore the themes contained in this special issue by asking how papers prompt us to ask: What

difference does Christianity make—to “culture”, to relations with the state or nation, to the self?

This question must be inflected by the realization that Christianity has a long-standing history in

Oceania, and has become part of the religio-political landscape that contemporary believers

inhabit and sometimes react against. Posing the question also involves an examination of how

papers juxtapose versions of history (broader processes of reproduction and transformation over

time) with religiously-motivated historiographies (how Christians themselves understand and

construct the present in relation to the past). I use these reflections to argue for the usefulness of

exploring distinctions and resonances among three orientations towards culture discernible in

the papers as a whole: those of being “of”, “against” and “for” culture.

J'examine les thèmes traités dans ce numéro en cherchant en quoi ces articles nous amènent à

nous demander : qu'est-ce qui change avec le christianisme, au plan de la « culture », des

relations avec l'État ou la nation, de la relation à soi ? Cette question doit prendre en compte le

fait que le christianisme a en Océanie une longue histoire ; il est devenu partie intégrante du

paysage politico-religieux au sein duquel les croyants contemporains se situent ou contre lequel

ils réagissent. Poser cette question implique également d'analyser la manière dont les articles

juxtaposent des versions de l'histoire (vastes processus de reproduction et de transformation sur

le temps long) avec des historiographies religieusement orientées (comment les Chrétiens eux-

mêmes comprennent et construisent le présent en relation avec le passé). J'utilise ces réflexions

pour défendre l'idée qu'il est utile d'examiner les répercussions de trois orientations bien

distinctes vis-à-vis de la culture, qui sont perceptibles dans l'ensemble des articles : être « de » la

culture, « contre » la culture ou « pour » la culture.

Examino aquí los temas tratados en este número intentando ver en qué sentido estos artículos

nos llevan a preguntarnos: ¿Qué cambia con el cristianismo, en el plano de la “cultura”, de las

relaciones con el estado o la nación, en la relación a sí? Esta pregunta debe tomar en cuenta el

hecho que el cristianismo tiene en Oceanía una larga historia, y se volvió parte integrante del

paisaje político-religioso en el cual los creyentes contemporáneos se sitúan, o contra el cual

reaccionan. Plantear esta pregunta implica también analizar la manera en que los artículos

yuxtaponen versiones de la historia (vastos procesos de reproducción y de transformación de

largo alcance) con las historiografías religiosamente orientadas (cómo los mismos cristianos

comprenden y construyen el presente en relación con el pasado). Utilizo estas reflexiones para

defender la idea de la utilidad de examinar las repercusiones de tres orientaciones bien distintas

frente a la cultura, que son perceptibles en el conjunto de los artículos: ser “de” la cultura, estar

“contra” la cultura o “a favor” de la cultura.


19

INDEX

Mots-clés: culture, christianisme, histoire, historiographie, transformation

Palabras claves: cultura, cristianismo, historia, historiografía, transformación

Keywords: culture, Christianity, history, historiography, transformation

AUTHOR

SIMON COLEMAN

University of Toronto, [email protected]


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Changing Christianity in Oceania: aRegional OverviewLa transformación del Cristianismo en Oceanía: un panorama regional

Christianismes en Océanie : un panorama régional

Manfred Ernst

Introduction

1 Over the past three decades in all church assemblies, synods and annual general

meetings of the historic mainline churches in the Pacific Islands concerns haverepeatedly been aired in one way or another regarding major shifts in religiousaffiliation and the impact of this on individuals, communities and society at large. Onbehalf of the Pacific Conference of Churches (PCC) the very first fundamental studyregarding the rapid changes in the religious landscape in the island nations has beencarried out by the author of this overview in the early 1990s (Ernst, 1994). The resultsof an extended follow-up research project were published by the Pacific TheologicalCollege (PTC) in 2006 (Ernst, 2006). The following overview summarizes the majordevelopments in Oceanic Christianity since the end of World War II.

2 The development of Christianity has always been very dynamic. From the early days

over 2000 years ago until the 20th century there has been a constant growth in thenumber of Christians, associated with an expansion all over the world. This dynamicand expansive growth has been accompanied by an increasing diversity and a splittingup into thousands of denominations and groups. Protestant Christians often tend toforget or do not know that the denomination or religious group they belong to startedoriginally as a schism or a breakaway from former existent churches. Usually led in thebeginning by charismatic leaders and slandered as “heretics”, these “heretical groups”or “sects” established themselves, grew and developed into fully acknowledgedChristian denominations. 1

3 Today there is clear evidence that the percentage of Christians in relation to the

world's population is decreasing slowly, mainly because of the fact that the Churches of


21

Europe and North America, which for centuries were bastions and strongholds ofChristianity, are losing about 2.7 million people per year to so called “nominalism” orsecularism. Another fact is that the population in countries with predominantly non-Christian religions (for example East and Southeast Asia and the Arab world) is growingfaster than the population in parts of the world where Christianity dominates (Daytonand Wilson, 1984: 25; Barret et al., 2001).

4 While declining in the developed industrialized countries of the western world,

Christianity in its different forms is growing fast in some parts of the southernhemisphere 2 where four main trends have been observed:

1. The emergence of thousands of so-called independent Churches or New Religious

Movements (NRMS), especially since the 1960s and mainly in Africa.

2. The rapid growth over the last three to four decades of marginal Protestant religious

groups, which are still labelled by the majority of mainline Christians as “sects”, such as for

instance, the Jehovah's Witnesses, the Seventh-Day Adventists or the members of the

Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-day Saints (Mormons). These religious groups, which

have in common a relative short history of 150-200 years, are among the fastest growing

religions in the world.3. Another example of extraordinary growth is to be seen in what is known as the

Pentecostal-Charismatic revival. Since the beginning of the 20th century and specifically

after World War II the fire of Pentecostalism and charismatic revival is running around the

globe.

4. The constantly increasing activities of mainly North American based evangelical,

charismatic or fundamentalist missions and para-church organizations.

Microcosm Oceania

5 The “liquid continent” of Oceania can to some extent be seen as a microcosm where

one can encounter all the worldwide tendencies and changes in Christianity explainedbriefly above. 3 The introduction of Christianity in the Pacific Islands is first of all oneof the most successful stories in the history of Christian mission. In a span of less than200 years the vast majority of Pacific Islanders became Christians. The fact that theGospel was brought by missionaries from Europe and the United States is todayreflected in the variety of “historic” or “mainline” churches that are still dominant inthe various islands of the region (Forman, 1982).

6 Today, there is no island nation in which new Christian denominations or religious

groups have not been registered; some after breaking away from an already existingchurch or, more often, as a result of missionary activities usually originating from theUSA, Australia, New Zealand, Europe or even Korea. This has led to an unprecedentednumber of different and commonly competing religious bodies in each island nationwith the result that today—even for villages in remote areas—it is quite common to bedivided along denominational lines, with one or another of the historic mainlinechurches plus a variety of newer arrivals. There is clear evidence that theestablishment and growth of new churches takes place at the expense of the historicmainline churches.

7 More than 20 years ago the well-known Pacific Church historian Charles Forman has

used the image of “a new wave of Christianity that is trying to supplant the old”(Forman, 1990: 29). Without overdramatizing there is a lot of evidence that if the

•

•

•

•


22

current trend of change in religious affiliation continues, the majority of Christiansafter the year 2050 will not anymore belong to the variety of Protestant Churches andthe Roman Catholic Church that established themselves first and represented up to the1960s over 90 percent of the indigenous populations.

8 All these developments have contributed to the emergence of increasingly complex

networks of transnational Pentecostal, charismatic, evangelical groups and churchesthat form together a renewal movement where flows of people, money, ideas andimages spread with growing speed and intensity. Attempts to pin them down to anyparticular source or objective are becoming increasingly difficult (Ernst, 2006: 687).Beside there is a variety of older denominational transnational networks such as theRoman Catholic Church, Jehovah's Witnesses, Seventh-Day Adventists and the Churchof Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that do neither cooperate with each other nor withthe Pentecostal, charismatic, evangelical renewal movement. The historical mainlinechurches in the Pacific Islands cooperate internationally through the ecumenicalmovement at national level in form of National Councils of Churches, at regional levelthrough the Pacific Conference of Churches, and internationally via the World Councilof Churches in Geneva. However, commitment and contributing to the ecumenicalmovement has dramatically decreased in the region as well as worldwide. There is agrowing tendency to nationalism and denominationalism at the expense of ecumenicalcooperation that puts the member churches of ecumenical bodies in a vulnerableposition with regard to future developments. The South Pacific region can be seen as amicrocosm, in which one can encounter all the worldwide tendencies and changes inreligious affiliation described above.

Globalization and the Increasing Diversification ofChristianity in the Pacific Islands

9 In recent years religion has received a good deal of attention in the discourse on

globalization. Christianity in its Pentecostal-charismatic form seems to thrive in theglobalizing climate. The majority of a growing number of publications in this field ofstudy focus on the successful growth and spread of Pentecostal-charismaticChristianity worldwide (Cox, 2001; Coleman, 2000; Martin, 2002; Corten and Marshall-Fratani, 2001; Shaull and Cesar, 2000; Stalsett, 2006; Geertz and Warburg, 2008).Christianity in its Pentecostal-charismatic form seems to thrive in the globalizingclimate. In these publications, however, not much attention has been paid to the rapidgrowth of what I call “marginal Protestants”, groups usually labelled by most Christiansas “sects”. In this category the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons),the Jehovah's Witnesses and the Seventh-Day Adventists are amongst the fastestgrowing denominations in the world.

10 Different theories of globalization processes and consequences have produced different

tools and approaches. The theoretical framework used here to explain the relationshipbetween globalization processes and the emergence and rapid growth of new religiousgroups in Oceania can be summarized as follows: Following world-system theory asdeveloped by Immanuel Wallerstein and others we see globalisation unfolding in ahistorical process or in a set of processes. Central to this approach is the premise thatthe political, economic and cultural changes in history can only be fully understood ifanalysed in their economic and material context (Wallerstein, 1974, 1980, 1989).


23

11 Considering processes of globalisation in the Pacific Islands, one is struck by the extent

to which religion has been central to them. It can be argued that Christianity inparticular has been the single most powerful globalising force throughout the PacificIslands. To answer the question why religion has been so central to globalisation in thePacific Islands it is worthwhile to reflect on the following: It was the missionaries andthe agents of the colonial powers that took the leading role in bringing western cultureto the Pacific Islands. Seeing little economic potential, colonial officials showed littleinterest in training or educating their subjects and left oversight and the developmentof key secular institutions such as health care and education to the missionaries. Thefirst converts—usually chiefs— were in many cases quick to adopt the explanatoryvalues of Christianity as the key to the new global world they were to enter. Thesubsequent rapid conversion of the vast majority of the populations explains whyChristianity became so central in the experience of Pacific Islanders (Gunson, 1978: 27).However, the process of inculturation was not without difficulties. According to Press“Many of the missionaries used the dualistic language of darkness and light incondemning the pre-Christian culture as sin” (Press, 2011: 146). Nevertheless,Christianity was accepted in Oceania on the terms of social and cultural norms ofPacific Islanders. The dualistic thinking became part of the Pacific Christian identity(Press, 2011: 146). This echoes to some extent the situation of other contextualChristologies, which arose from a deeply local experience of the presence of JesusChrist in the cultural background of the people. 4 In the process of replacing traditionalreligions in many islands Christianisation resulted in varying degrees in a kind ofsyncretism, in which Pacific Islanders modified doctrinal, ritual and organizationalaspects to make them fit with the elaborate traditional hierarchies that continued to bea fundamental part of social life.

12 Since the years of gaining independence the states and leaders of the Pacific Islands

have drawn heavily on Christianity in formulating and shaping their political cultures.Usually governments of the region welcome new churches and support them to preachtheir versions of Christianity to huge audiences in usually packed venues in the largercities. It is not unusual that Evangelists such as Benny Hinn, Bill Subritzky, or ReinhardBonnke are treated by the respective governments like heads of state. Manygovernments are regularly active and willing in supporting, organizing andparticipating in evangelization activities, prayer meetings and prayer breakfasts of thenewer churches. Similar to the USA many Pacific Island politicians in power, if facingproblems, are quick to ask the public to pray for peace and forgiveness of sins and toask God for guidance, instead of looking at the root causes for social, economic andpolitical problems.

13 In my study of Christianity in Oceania I have argued that the rapid growth of new

religious groups in Oceania over the past four to five decades is closely related to therapid socioeconomic change that has taken place simultaneously. In order to reveal thisinterconnectedness the extend of drastic changes in religious affiliation in Oceania isshown by presenting statistical evidence by using figures from four selected islandnations from across the region.

Trends in church affiliation in selected island nations of Oceania:

Tonga, Samoa, Fiji, Papua New Guinea in percent 5


24

Tonga Samoa FijiPapua

New Guinea

1966 1996 1961 2001 1966 2007 1966 2000

Historic Mainline Churches 90.1 76.2 91.0 69.4 95.9 44.4 77.8 61.2

New Religious Groups 19.7 19.9 18.9 30.5 12.9 19.8 14.1 34.8

Other Religions — — — 10.6 48.0 34.5 — —

No Religion or not stated 10.7 11.2 11.3 10.7 10.1 10.8 10.2 12.1

Summary of Major Changes in Religious Affiliation,(Tonga, Samoa, Fiji and PNG)

14 The table above provides an overview for the comparison of changes in religious

affiliation in four selected Pacific Island nations. The data is based on officialgovernment censuses, and was backed up by field research and comparisons withstatistics from the different denominations. Depending on the availability of reliabledata it covers basically developments over the past fifty years.

15 There is a clear decrease in the percentage of members of one or the other of the

historic mainline churches. Especially the historic Protestant mainline churches,namely the Free Wesleyan Church of Tonga, the Congregational Christian Churches inSamoa, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Papua New Guinea, the Methodist Church inFiji and Rotuma, and the United Churches in Papua New Guinea are—while still growingnumerically—in a process of decline as it is shown by the decrease in the percentage ofadherents in relation to the total population. There are remarkable differencesregarding to the degree of decline in different island nations. The historic mainlinechurches included in the table above have in common that they represented more than90 percent of the respective island populations fifty years ago and enjoyed a status of de

facto state churches. 6 The Roman Catholic Church represents the highest total numberof adherents of all the different denominations in the Pacific Islands and is wellestablished everywhere.

16 The Assemblies of God is the most widespread and numerically leading denomination

of all the churches that belong to the spectrum of the Pentecostal-Charismatic renewalmovement. They had the advantage of time as they started mission work andevangelization usually in the first half of the 20th century while most of the otherPentecostal-charismatic denominations arrived after WW II in the 1970s, 80s and 90s.Though the AOG are well established today they have not yet surpassed the ten percentbenchmark in any island nation as they present in most of the islands clearly below fivepercent of the respective populations. One interesting development is that whereverthe AOG are well established, like for example in Samoa and Fiji they have experienceda number of schisms and breakaways that usually led to the establishment of newPentecostal churches and thus prevented higher growth rates.


25

17 The combined number of adherents of churches in the category of Pentecostal-

charismatic churches surpasses only in Samoa and American Samoa the 15 percentmark but represent in the other islands less than 10 percent.

18 The Anglican Church and the Roman Catholic Church have so far successfully

integrated charismatic oriented adherents within their organizational structure byproviding space and time for charismatic worship and activities. This is seen as themain reason why they have not experienced major decline or breakaways like the otherProtestant historic mainline churches such as the Methodist Church in Fiji, theCongregational Churches in Samoa, the Free Wesleyan Church of Tonga or theEvangelical Lutheran Church in PNG.

19 The growth of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Seventh-Day Adventists

and Jehovah's Witnesses is in general in line with worldwide trends. The LDS Church isespecially well established in Polynesia (Tonga, Samoa, American Samoa, and FrenchPolynesia) where they represent close to or over more than 10 percent of the respectivepopulations. These three religious organizations have not much in common regardingdoctrines or worship but all of them originate from the USA and feature a verycentralized hierarchical worldwide structure with headquarters in the USA. Among thethree the SDA Church is the only nonhistoric mainline church that is well established inall of the Pacific Islands with steady and solid growth rates. The Jehovah's Witnessesare also established almost everywhere and experienced modest growth but do notexceed 2 percent anywhere.

20 Looking at the changes in the religious landscape of the Pacific Islands there is a

notable development with the decrease of adherents of traditional religions, especiallyin the Melanesian nations of Papua New Guinea (PNG), and Vanuatu. Recent researchrevealed that there is a correlation between successful mission activities of newerdenominations from the Pentecostal-charismatic spectrum, resulting in conversions offollowers of traditional religions (Zocca, 2006: 232-33). If we lump together all rapidlygrowing Christian religions from the Pentecostal-charismatic variety and includeMormons, Seventh-Day Adventists and Jehovah's Witnesses, the extend of changebecomes clearer as over the past 50 years the percentage of all non-mainline churchesin the countries included in the table above, increased substantially. Subsequently thepercentage of the combined historic mainline churches declined significantly. Similardevelopments have been observed in countries not included in the table above. Theinteresting question is than what are the factors that contribute to the growth of thenewer arrivals of Christian denominations and groups in Oceania and—vice versa—tothe subsequent decline of especially the historic mainline churches of Protestantorigins.

Manifold reasons for changing Christianity in Oceania

21 As summarized in the following, the reasons for the growth in the number of adherents

of a steadily growing number of new movements and churches alongside theestablished historic mainline churches are multifaceted.


26

The Impact of Rapid Social Change on Societies and Individuals

22 One clear correlation exists between the diversification of religious affiliation with the

rise of newer groups and the occurrence of a fundamental transformation in PacificIslands' societies and cultures. Rapid changes in society were caused by World War II,with the need of supplies for the respective armies of goods for the army, whichresulted in the development of infrastructure and jobs. The suddenly close contact ofPacific Islanders with soldiers of the allies from western countries contributed to thedevelopment of new ideas of equality and self-determination (Krossigk, Leidhold, Rath,1988: 8). Later, there was the economic boom of the 1960s and the forcedimplementation of capitalism from the 1960s to the present, with rapid urbanizationand a massive internal and external migration of people. All this contributed tofundamental social changes that affected the majority of people in the Pacific Islands.Cultural values that were not compatible with those of the Western world aredisappearing. A cash and wages system has almost everywhere replaced the traditionalsubsistence and barter system. Traditional social and political structures are more andmore collapsing, and social mobilization and urbanization are breaking traditionalstructures of families, clans, and villages. The decay of traditional social controlcontributed to an increase in criminality, drug abuse, domestic violence, etc. Theserapid social changes have impinged on many people in such a way that they feeluprooted from their traditions and are confused about their future. People suffer fromthe anonymity of the towns and long for a community to which they can belong. Theresulting search for a new social community often ends in one of the Pentecostal-charismatic, neo-charismatic, evangelical-fundamentalist or other new religiousgroups. People in need of clarity and orientation find personal answers in the simpledoctrines, conservative interpretation of the Bible, and clear ethical principles taughtby the rapidly growing new religious groups.

Cultural Factors

23 Apart from this socio-psychological explanation, some cultural aspects specific to the

Pacific Islands have definitely contributed to the successful spread of especiallyPentecostal and charismatic movements in the region, since these groups fit, to someextent, easily within traditional belief patterns. For example, Pacific Islanderstraditionally believe in the presence of spirits endowed with extraordinary powers.They also believe that somebody can be possessed by these spirits and be givenextraordinary power as well. Phenomena such as ecstasy, trance, speaking in tongues,and divination were common in traditional religions too and attributed to the presenceof spirits, especially the spirit of ancestors. Pacific Islanders have always placedimportance on good relationships as being essential for health and healing, not only forindividuals but also for the whole community. Pentecostal and charismatic groups arealso well known for the emotional involvement of participants in their services.Dramatic baptisms, powerful confrontations between the power of God and evil,emotional public confessions and testimonies, rhythms and songs full of enthusiasmare characteristic for these groups. All this is attractive to people whose traditionalreligious experience was also characterized by dramatic initiation forms, powerfulsingings, emotional mourning, and exciting mythical dances. Millennium expectations—beliefs in the coming age that will be morally just and equitable for all—have also


27

been part of the mind frame of Pacific Islanders in the past. Dreams and visions havebeen the most common link in the traditional societies between the living and thedead, between the people and all kinds of spirits (Cox, 2001: 99-110). The historicProtestant mainline churches mostly repressed these millennial aspirations byteaching a rational view of human progress and development and postponement ad

infinitum of the final coming of God's Kingdom. Although common in scriptures, dreamsand visions tend to be dismissed by the historic mainline churches as unscientific andthe apocalyptic sections of the Bible are not very fashionable within the Protestantmainline denominations. But especially Pentecostal-charismatic Christians connectwell with concepts from traditional religions that have been lying under the surfacewhen Christianity took roots in Oceania.

Meeting Affective Needs

24 A comparative analysis of the interviews with converts reveals that reasons for leaving

or joining a religious group are often linked to very practical questions such ascommunity and family life or marriage. Conversion to a new religious group is oftenthe last step in the process of separation from a person or group. The new religiouscommunity becomes the new family with many new brothers and sisters among whomthe convert finds happiness and comfort. In the Pacific Islands extensive feasting atbaptisms, marriages and funerals is characteristic and part of traditional culture.

25 For many people the traditional obligations involved are increasingly seen as a burden,

because for someone with a permanent job it is almost impossible to attend all theannual functions that naturally occur in the extended family. This kind of traditionalcultural obligation is also costly, as it requires contributions of food or cash. On thebasis of extensive field research in Fiji, Jacqueline Ryle has described in detail howmembers of the Methodist Church in Fiji, which is by far the largest Christiandenomination in the country, are torn between their pride and desire to followtradition and the financial burden of maintaining costly and time-consumingceremonies amidst rapid social changes and an increasingly consumer oriented society(Ryle, 2010: 132-38). The new religious groups are by far less demanding in terms offinancial contributions as they usually do not follow time consuming and “costly”traditional practices in elaborated ceremonies. On the other hand joining one or theother of the new religious groups often leads to a better quality of life as symbols oftradition such as the consumption of kava in Samoa, Tonga, Fiji and Vanuatu, and thechewing of betel nuts in Melanesia, which is often accompanied by cigarette smokingand the drinking of liquor, are rejected by Pentecostals and charismatic Christians aswell as by members of the SDA, Jehovah's Witnesses or Mormons. In addition, some ofthese groups have also introduced strong moral codes on how to behave and dress,with the consequence that their members withdraw partially or fully from traditionalactivities. Converts of new religious groups are taught that they will be part of the“elect” or “chosen” people if they follow these rules. On the practical side, withdrawingfrom cultural obligations helps to save money and time, and ceasing to smoke or drinkkava often leads to positive changes of behaviour (Ernst, 2006: 731). In addition to ahealthier lifestyle converts often gain a new sense of dignity, and all these benefits areinterpreted as signs of doctrinal truth.


28

The Fundamentalist Illusion: Instant Identity

26 A common feature of Pentecostal, charismatic and evangelical churches and those that

are considered by mainstream Christians as being at the margins of Christianity is theirclaim to hold a literal understanding of the Bible. Fundamentalists across alldenominations insist that the Bible is absolutely and in its entirety without error. Inorder to deal with contradictions and variations in matters of fact and doctrine,fundamentalists engage in a kind of intellectual acrobatics in their efforts toreinterpret and homogenize. Alongside the many factors dividing the Christiandenominations of the Pacific Islands, such as worship styles, doctrines, traditions andorganizational structures, the major division must be seen in the fact thatfundamentalists are very interested in interpretation but not much in historicalscholarship, unless it is of the conservative kind. Whatever his or her denominationalbackground might be, a fundamentalist can be identified easily as any person who“knows” already that the Bible contains no error before it is even opened for reading.The scheme is simple and attractive for people who are ignorant of theology andbiblical scholarship. What fundamentalist groups offer Pacific Islanders is a shortcut tocertainty. They can be described as “no questions asked” groups that offer an instantidentity. This entails in practice elaborate deductions from the mystic books, such asthat of Daniel and Revelation, from which dispensationalists of all kinds arrive atcertain conclusions about the identity of the Antichrist, for instance. Most of the newerreligious groups in the Pacific Islands are eschatological dispensational groups.Characteristic for them is a belief system based on a totalitarian dualism. In their viewthe existing world is wicked and evil and in total contrast to the world they expect tocome. This wicked and evil world is seen as lost, and there is an expectation that Christwill return in glory and bring an end to all misery, injustice, disease and death. Certainpassages of the Bible related to the “End-Times” are interpreted in a way that“rationalize” in a superficial way the experiences of people who are suffering thenegative impact of globalization. In the Pacific Islands there seems to be an ever-increasing flood of publications that deal with spiritual healing, the Second Coming,prophecies, and the End-Times. Most of these publications are of US origin. They aredistributed through bookshops and increasingly through TV and radio stations such asthe Trinity Broadcasting Network stations in Samoa or Fiji. These media advertise thebooks, CDs, DVDs and audio and videotapes, which can be ordered via credit cards. Inhis book End-Time Visions, the highly regarded expert on the “Doomsday Obsession”,Richard Abanes has examined and dismantled the bizarre supposedly Bible-basedprophecies of historical and modern day prophets from Nostradamus to Hal Lindsay(Abanes, 1998). The latter is the author of The Late Great Planet Earth—the undisputedlymost popular religious volume of the 1970s to 1990s, which has gone through morethan 100 printings totaling 325 million copies in 52 languages (Lindsay, 1977). Non-fundamentalists find it difficult to understand why this sort of religious literatureattracts so many people across all social classes and in so many countries. RussellChandler explains Lindsay's success in this way: “Lindsay speaks and writes withauthority and clarity in a popular style. He links biblical prophecies to current eventsand scientific technology—giving many the feeling of assurance that it's all happeningjust as the good book says it would. And he sets forth uncomplicated arguments thatthe lives of ordinary human beings fit into God's great plan of history” (Chandler, 1995:250).


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Responses of the Historic Mainline Churches andPerspectives for the Future

27 In the following it is argued that there is also a direct relationship between the growth

of new religious groups and problems or deficits within the historical mainlinechurches. Since the introduction of Christianity and markedly within the Protestantmainline churches, organizational structures, liturgies, hymn books or dress codeshave not changed much. It has been argued that in the process of decolonization sincethe 1960s, the localization of church leadership positions was often hastened withnegative side effects as in many areas local ministers where not adequately trained(Ernst, 1984: 263-64). For younger people and women, who form the majority of themembership, possibilities for participation in church life are usually restricted tosubordinate and serving roles.

28 The historic mainline churches are rich in terms of huge land properties and buildings

but most of the attempts to use these resources economically fail because the personnelput in charge is usually well trained in Biblical Studies, Theology, Church Ministry andChurch History, but not in management for running successfully development, incomegenerating, or business projects such as shipping lines, cooperatives, printing pressesand shops.

29 In the Protestant Churches of Polynesia the spirit of giving is extraordinary high. In

general it can be said that in all the Pacific Islands church ministers enjoy a high statusin their respective societies whereas the working conditions and remuneration differsubstantially in Polynesia, Melanesia and Micronesia. In Melanesia, for example,ministers enjoy a high social status but are poorly paid and often forced to look foralternative sources of income, whereas especially in Samoa and American Samoaministers are accustomed to a high standard of living as they usually live in big houses,drive around in expensive four wheel drives and in some cases gain a monthly incomeof up to 5,000 US Dollars and even more. On the other side, with few exceptions, theoutfit and appearance of church offices and schools in the mainline churches is oftenpoor. In these areas the newer churches present themselves as more modern, betterequipped and better organized.

30 The dynamic style of worshipping in Pentecostal and charismatic churches attracts

primarily the younger generations. All the newer churches maintain strict rules andregulations regarding the “right way of living”. The prohibition of smoking, alcohol,kava and gambling, the promotion of healthy food and a harmonious family life attractin particular women. Therefore it is not surprising that young people and women arecommonly the first to convert. In addition the newer churches offer numerouspossibilities for members to gain status through their involvement in weekly activities,worship or mission work. The newer churches also collect money from their membersand most of them apply a combination of tithing and free will offerings. But in contrastto adherents of the historical mainline churches members feel that they get somethingback in case of material needs, in times of natural disasters or through paying schoolfees. Because of their excellent standard of facilities and the high level of discipline theschools of the Mormons and the Seventh-Day Adventists are usually attractive to non-members too.


30

Outlook

31 The process of changes in religious affiliation is not linear. It is as dynamic, complex

and inter-active as any major cultural shift in the past. Parallel to globalization, theprocess seems to foster an Americanization of global Christianity since the songs,worship patterns and attitudes of Evangelical and Pentecostal communities follow abasically US-American model. Parallel to the homogenization of global culture trends,charismatic or Pentecostal spirituality in particular is increasingly influencing thehistoric mainline churches. While some see this as a threat, it is also an expression of avery interesting process of adaptation and adjustment of mainline churches that mighteven curb the growth of new movements. Churches that have given space tocharismatic movements and Pentecostal worship patterns in their own denominationsshow more stable figures (Ernst, 2006: 702).

32 Societies and groups struggle to uphold traditional community values like in Oceania

see themselves under strong pressure. This struggle sometimes results in resistanceagainst the strong individualism, indifference or the “anything goes” mentality ofmarket driven postmodernism and the hegemony of Western neo-liberal values(Schreiter, 2000: 23-24) but more often in adaptation and adjustment to values andlifestyles that continue to arrive with the dominant forces of cultural and economicglobalization.

33 The attitude of church leaders within the mainline churches regarding the new

religious groups can be best described as a mixture of ignorance, antipathy, arroganceand retreat to denominationalism. The growth of new religious groups with thesubsequent decline of the mainline churches is often simply denied or at best seen as atemporary phenomenon. Beside occasional calls just to ban all new religious groupsthere is no visible strategy on how to deal with them. With a few exceptions such as inthe Maohi Protestant Church in French Polynesia, attempts for critical self reflectionand reforms are rare. The historic mainline churches are still powerful as they continueto represent still the majority of the populations in the island states of Oceania.However, this potential is usually not translated into action and activities with regardto the variety of social and political issues such as poverty, crime, drug abuse,environmental problems, corruption and economic injustice. In all these areas agrowing number of specialized nongovernmental organizations set the tone. Withoutfundamental reflection and renewal the future perspectives for the mainline churchesare gloomy (Ernst, 2009: 64). If there is no change it is foreseeable that over the nextthree decades some of the mainline churches will have lost their unique dominantpositions as de facto state churches they held over the past 150-200 years. It may soundharsh but the majority of the Protestant mainline churches at present do not seem wellprepared to face the manifold challenges in their societies at the beginning of the 21st

century. They are in danger of becoming a static force in a very dynamic social,political and economic environment.

34 Traditionally, the role of the church in society has been interpreted by the majority of

all Christian churches to make all suffering that result from social, political andeconomic ills more bearable. An alternative view of the church as a necessarilytransforming force with regard to, for example, social justice and the protection ofGod's creation, is not really much developed within the majority of the historicmainline churches in Oceania. Whether the historic mainline churches find ways to


31

meet the challenges of the new century remains to be seen. My initial answer to thequestion “how well are the church leaders and theological thinkers of the South Pacificprepared to deal with the re-shaping of Christianity in the Oceania?” is not veryencouraging. When interviewed about the rapid changes in religious affiliation most ofthe leaders of the historic mainline churches view the new groups with a mixture ofbewilderment, fear, disdain and denial. There is no visible strategy or vision withregard to how the ongoing loss of members could be stopped and in most churches (onboth sides) there are no signs for attempts to seek dialogue or cooperation.

35 What the literature that is already available from other parts of the world reveals about

the dynamics of globalisation and changes in religious affiliation can be widelyconfirmed by the findings of research projects carried out in the Pacific Islands overthe past 20 years. It is hoped that the findings on the mechanics of the spread of newexpressions and forms of Christianity in the region, as summarized above, will enrichthe understanding not only of the various newer movements and churches but also ofthe range of dynamics of religious change in the context of a rapidly globalising world.Moreover it is hoped that the historic mainline churches and the new religious groupsfind ways to overcome the prevailing mode of peaceful co-existence, especially onmatter of common concern that result from the negative consequences of rapid socialchange and have an effect on the majority of Christians, regardless of denominationalboundaries.

NOTES

1. Luther and Lutheranism, Calvin and the reformed Churches, Henry VIII and the Church of

England, John Knox and the Presbyterians, John Wesley and the Methodists, and Thomas

Campbell and the Disciples of Christ are just a few outstanding examples of this development.

2. Africa, Latin America and the Caribbean and to some extent Asia and Oceania.

3. Oceania is defined here as including all of Micronesia, except the Mariana Islands, Polynesia,

except for Hawaii, and Melanesia, and excluding New Zealand and Australia.

4. For an overview of contextual Christologies see Kuester, 2001 and Vidal in this issue.

5. The data presented is based on available official censuses and extensive field research

between 1991-2004. The Historic Mainline Churches in this table refer to the Methodist Churches

in Tonga and Samoa, Evangelical Church of Papua New Guinea, Anglican Churches in Tonga,

Samoa, Papua New Guinea, United Church of Papua New Guinea, Congregational Christian

Church of Samoa, Roman Catholic Churches in the respective countries.

Under New religious Groups are submitted: The Assemblies of God, Seventh-day Adventists,

Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and a variety of other

Pentecostal-charismatic churches that are usually summarized in government statistics under

“other Christians”. For details see Ernst 1994 and 2006.

6. The Fiji Islands is the only nation with a substantial percentage of other ethnic groups and

religions. Similar to the other nations included in the table, fifty years ago the mainline churches

represented over 90 percent of the indigenous population.


32

ABSTRACTS

The article summarizes major changes in religious affiliation in Oceania since World War II and

especially over the past 20 years by linking the increasing diversification of Christianity in the

region to globalization processes and the impact of rapid social change on societies and

individuals. Based on the presentation of data the author provides evidence that new forms of

Christianity, mainly of pentecostal-charismatic origins, have experienced high growth rates at

the expense of the established historic mainline churches. These developments mirror very

much what has been observed in other parts of the southern hemisphere. Predictions are that in

two or three decades from today Oceanic Christianity will have a distinguished pentecostal-

charismatic flavour. The author predicts that without fundamental reflection and renewal the

future perspectives for the historic mainline churches are gloomy. According to the author they

seem to be ill prepared to face the manifold challenges in their societies at the beginning of the

21st century and may lose their unique dominant status they held over the past 150-200 years in

the respective island nations.

Cet article présente une synthèse des principaux changements ayant affecté les appartenances

religieuses en Océanie depuis la seconde guerre mondiale, et en particulier au cours des 20

dernières années, en liant la diversification croissante du christianisme dans la région avec les

processus de globalisation et les effets d'un changement social rapide sur les sociétés et les

individus. En s'appuyant sur un ensemble de données, l'auteur montre que les nouvelles formes

de christianisme, le plus souvent d'origine pentecôtiste/charismatique, ont connu une croissance

élevée, aux dépens des Églises historiques mainline. Ces évolutions présentent d'importantes

similitudes avec ce qui a été observé dans d'autres régions de l'hémisphère sud. On peut prévoir

que dans deux ou trois décennies, le christianisme océanien aura un profil nettement

pentecôtiste/charismatique. L'auteur estime que faute de réflexions et d'un renouvellement

profonds, les Églises historiques feront face à de sombres perspectives. Elles lui semblent en effet

mal préparées aux multiples défis que leurs sociétés doivent relever en ce début du xxie siècle et

pourraient perdre le statut d'Églises dominantes dont elles bénéficient dans ces sociétés

insulaires depuis près de deux siècles.

El artículo resume los mayores cambios en las pertenencias religiosas en Oceanía desde la

Segunda Guerra Mundial. Se ocupa en particular de los últimos veinte años, estableciendo una

relación entre la creciente diversificación del Cristianismo, los procesos de globalización y el

impacto que los veloces cambios sociales tienen en las sociedades e individuos. El autor presenta

datos que nos hablan de las nuevas formas de Cristianismo, especialmente aquellas de origen

Pentecostal-carismático, que han crecido a expensas de las Iglesias históricamente tradicionales.

Este desarrollo refleja perfectamente lo que se ha venido observando en otras regiones del

hemisferio sur. Podemos prever que en dos o tres décadas el Cristianismo en Oceanía tendrá un

sabor característico Pentecostal-carismático. El autor considera que sin una reflexión y

renovación fundamental de las Iglesias históricamente establecidas, su futuro se dibuja sombrío.

Según el autor estas Iglesias no están bien preparadas para afrontar los numerosos desafíos de

sus sociedades, y al comienzo del siglo xxi podrían perder el rango dominante que llevan

disfrutando en estas sociedades insulares en los últimos 150 o 200 años.


33

INDEX

Mots-clés: appartenances religieuses, changement social, christianisme, globalisation, Océanie

Keywords: Christianity, globalization, Oceania, religious affiliation, social change

Palabras claves: cambio social, cristianismo, globalización, Oceanía, pertenencias religiosas

AUTHOR

MANFRED ERNST

Institute for Research & Social Analysis (IRSA) of the Pacific Theological College (Suva, Fiji),

[email protected]


34

Le protestantisme polynésien, del'Église locale aux réseauxévangéliquesPolynesian Protestantism: from Local Church to Evangelical Networks

El protestantismo polinesio, de la iglesia local a las redes evangélicas

Yannick Fer

1 Un samedi soir d'août 2009, une soixantaine de personnes sont rassemblées pour une

soirée vidéo à l'invitation de l'assemblée de Dieu de Moorea (Polynésie française), unepetite Église pentecôtiste installée à l'écart de la route de ceinture, dans la vallée de PaoPao. Ils regardent une prédication du pasteur brésilien Moïse da Silva, enregistrée lorsde son passage dans une Église africaine de la banlieue parisienne : « Le Dieu del'impossible » ou comment un jeune délinquant laissé pour mort avec cinq balles dansle corps est devenu un évangéliste dont le témoignage a fait le tour du monde 1.

2 Cet épisode presque ordinaire de la vie d'une Église locale témoigne du télescopage

croissant entre différentes échelles d'observation du christianisme en Océanie. Lesanthropologues ont longtemps croisé les Églises chrétiennes au détour de recherchesde terrain visant avant tout, dans une perspective patrimoniale, les aspects les plus« traditionnels » des cultures océaniennes (Barker, 1990 : 9). Lorsque, à partir desannées 1980, le christianisme s'est progressivement imposé comme un objet d'étudelégitime, c'est au travers d'ethnographies réalisées sur les mêmes terrains qu'il a étédécrit, au sein de groupes culturels de taille réduite et de villages relativement isolés.Les circulations reliant ces zones rurales aux agglomérations urbaines y apparaissentincidemment, comme un des facteurs ayant contribué à la diffusion de nouvellescroyances – en particulier celles des courants pentecôtistes et charismatiques.L'analyse des termes du dialogue entre les cultures locales et les différentes expressionsdu christianisme peut en outre ouvrir des perspectives plus larges, participant à unecompréhension des processus de globalisation religieuse (Robbins, 2004). Mais l'unitéde lieu est maintenue et l'observation des transformations du paysage religieux investit


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rarement le terrain des villes ou celui des réseaux régionaux et internationaux aveclesquels les christianismes locaux entretiennent pourtant des échanges déterminants.

3 Au premier regard, la progression spectaculaire du protestantisme évangélique dans la

région (Ersnt, 2006) semble aujourd'hui faire entrer brutalement l'Océanie dans l'ère dela « religion sans culture » annoncée par O. Roy, marquée par une déconnexion entrechristianisme et cultures et par une déterritorialisation sans retour des appartenancesreligieuses (Roy, 2009). Le contraste avec le protestantisme historique, héritier desmissions du XIXe siècle et ancré dans les cultures locales au point d'être désormais l'un

des porte-paroles de l'identité traditionnelle polynésienne, paraît en effet saisissant.Pourtant cette opposition trop simple entre enracinement culturel et globalisationévangélique est trompeuse. L'irruption de ces nouvelles formes de christianisme, decette « culture de réseau » qui met à la portée des simples fidèles une multitude deressources – via la vidéo, la littérature religieuse ou l'Internet (Mary, 2000 : 122) – et lesinscrit dans un « archipel d'Églises, d'institutions évangéliques, disséminées dans lemonde entier » (Fath, 2002 : 154), invite d'abord à revisiter le rôle joué par lescirculations régionales dans l'histoire du protestantisme océanien et dans l'élaborationde son discours contemporain sur la tradition. Une analyse attentive des organisationsgravitant, en Océanie, dans l'orbite du réseau évangélique international Youth With a

Mission et de leurs résonances sur plusieurs terrains religieux océaniens permettraensuite de préciser les effets différenciés que ce type de christianisme peut avoir sur leplan des relations entre individus, cultures et territoires. Cette analyse vise également,en combinant l'ethnographie locale, l'observation des réseaux régionaux et celle destransformations actuelles du protestantisme mondial, à esquisser les voies parlesquelles l'anthropologie du christianisme en Océanie pourrait se donner les moyensd'« élargir son “terrain” à l'espace de circulation et d'interconnaissance des sujets surlesquels [elle] enquête » (Mary, 2000 : 122).

Christianisme, globalisation et circulations régionales

4 Les changements religieux en Océanie se jouent principalement à l'intersection entre

les relations intergénérationnelles et les mobilités sociales et géographiques. Lesmigrations internes – des îles et des villages ruraux vers les villes – contribuent àl'émergence de modes de vie urbains moins contraints par les structures traditionnellesd'encadrement social et favorisent une pluralisation rapide du christianisme océanien.Dans les îles éloignées et les régions les plus isolées, l'action missionnaire s'appuielargement sur la position d'entre-deux des émigrés convertis, toujours inscrits de façonlatente dans les réseaux locaux de parenté et de solidarité en dépit d'une relativeémancipation. Des réunions de maison préparent ainsi, à bas bruit, l'implantation desnouvelles Églises.

5 L'Océanie est en outre la région du monde qui compte le taux le plus élevé de migrants

internationaux, concentrés en Australie et en Nouvelle-Zélande (Nations unies : 2006).Dans ce pays, les Pacific Peoples, issus des migrations polynésiennes de l'après secondeguerre mondiale, représentent 6,9 % de la population totale et constituent la principaleforce militante des Églises chrétiennes. Les liens que ces communautés polynésiennesde l'étranger – majoritairement samoanes, tongiennes ou Cook Islanders – maintiennentavec leurs îles d'origine construisent des espaces transnationaux structurés par descirculations constantes et des influences réciproques (Levitt, 2003 : 848). Intégrées à des


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sociétés multiculturelles où la sécularisation de la culture dominante (occidentale) vade pair avec une grande diversité religieuse, elles participent à la fois à l'édification deces nations « arc-en-ciel » et aux transformations des îles polynésiennes : leur poidsdémographique, souvent équivalent (à Tonga ou Samoa) et parfois supérieur à celui deshabitants du pays d'origine (aux îles Cook, Niue et Tokelau) en font des acteurséconomiques, politiques et religieux de premier plan.

6 Enfin, à une moindre échelle, les circulations horizontales entre les îles océaniennes

alimentent depuis plusieurs décennies 2 la propagation de nouvelles croyances dans larégion. Les migrations de travail vers les mines de nickel de Nouvelle-Calédonie ontainsi facilité l'implantation du pentecôtisme nord-américain à Tahiti et au Vanuatu(Nouvelles-Hébrides) à la fin des années 1970 (Fer, 2005 : 50 ; 128s). À Rarotonga (l'îleprincipale des îles Cook), l'essor de l'industrie touristique attire aujourd'hui desdizaines de travailleurs fidjiens qui grossissent les rangs des Églises pentecôtisteslocales.

7 La troisième vague du christianisme océanien, constituée par les Églises pentecôtistes

et charismatiques, est celle qui bénéficie le plus visiblement de ces flux migratoires etdes facilités offertes par le développement concomitant des moyens de transport et decommunication. Plus encore que les Églises professantes de la deuxième vague –adventistes et mormones – ces Églises apparaissent comme « un “mouvement”religieux accompagnant et facilitant le mouvement des personnes » (Martin, 2002 : 23),notamment au travers d'un discours sur la nécessaire affirmation de soi et la valeurpositive du changement envisagé comme un progrès. La rupture que ce discoursintroduit avec les formes les plus traditionnelles de socialisation religieuse (qui mettentau contraire l'accent sur la perpétuation des héritages religio-culturels et sur le primatde la communauté sur l'individu 3) a généré au cours des années 1990 une série demicro-conflits, dans les îles de petite taille ou dans des villages samoans dominés parl'alliance entre les chefferies traditionnelles et les Églises historiques (Fer, 2011 :464-465). La multiplication des Églises concurrentes et la dispersion des appartenancesreligieuses affectent avant tout l'unité des familles, même si la progression constantedu nombre de couples religieusement mixtes tend par ailleurs à relativiser les divisionsconfessionnelles au profit d'une identité chrétienne générique. Dès lors, nombred'Églises pentecôtistes et charismatiques trouvent dans l'invocation de l'histoiremissionnaire océanienne, dont elles se veulent les continuatrices, un moyen decontrebalancer symboliquement la fragilisation des filiations religieuses que leurprogression induit. Leur filiation historique avec le protestantisme revivaliste les inciteen effet à mettre leurs pas non seulement dans ceux des missions occidentales du XIXe

siècle – grandement inspirées par le réveil méthodiste en Grande-Bretagne (Zorn, 1993 :28s) – mais, surtout, dans ceux des « teachers », missionnaires et pasteurs polynésiensayant contribué jusque dans les années 1980 à l'implantation des Églises protestanteshistoriques dans les îles d'Océanie.

8 Une assimilation trop systématique de la christianisation à la colonisation occidentale

laisse généralement inaperçue cette dimension essentielle du christianisme océanien,dont l'un des prolongements a été, dans le sillage des indépendances politiques(acquises entre 1962 et 1980), le projet d'édification d'un Pacific Way : une fraternitérégionale rassemblant les « peuples des îles » au-delà de leurs particularismesnationaux. Au XIXe siècle, l'engagement des premiers convertis protestants des îles de la

Société au service de la London Missionary Society (LMS, implantée à Tahiti à partir de


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1797), puis la mobilisation des Cook Islanders et des Samoans touchés par cetteentreprise missionnaire ont enclenché un processus d'échanges culturels entre les îlesde Polynésie, de Micronésie et de Mélanésie. Tandis que les missions puritainesaméricano-hawaiiennes se tournaient vers les populations micronésiennes, desMéthodistes formés à Tonga, Fidji ou Samoa ont rejoint à la fin du siècle les effectifspolynésiens de la LMS en Papouasie Nouvelle-Guinée et aux îles Salomon, dernièrefrontière d'une régionalisation du protestantisme (Breward, 2001 ; Forman, 1990 ;Garrett, 1982). Ces circulations missionnaires ont établi le christianisme, dans saversion protestante ou catholique 4, comme un patrimoine commun aux peuplesd'Océanie et en ont fait un puissant vecteur d'interdépendance entre des îlesgéographiquement dispersées. Des styles musicaux polynésiens, transmis par le biaisdes chants chrétiens, mais aussi de nouvelles plantes et des méthodes de culture, destechniques de construction ou des pratiques sportives ont trouvé place dans leshabitudes culturelles des populations mélanésiennes converties (Latufeku, 1996).

9 Président de la Cook Islands Christian Church (l'Église protestante historique des îles

Cook) au début des années 1980, Turaliare Teauariki fut aussi l'un des derniersmissionnaires polynésiens issus du protestantisme historique présents en PapouasieNouvelle-Guinée, de 1963 à 1975. Dans son récit autobiographique, il décrit desrelations intra-océaniennes non exemptes de malentendus culturels et de préjugésassociés à des rapports de domination entre missionnaires polynésiens et populationslocales, mais il conclut en évoquant les liens durables unissant désormais les membresde la Papua Ekalesia à son Église :

We have been happy to find that many Papuans whose ancestors received the earlyCook Island missionaries, are interested in keeping a connection with our Church.In 1982, about 50 of them came in a group to visit Rarotonga. In 1984, 147 came.Now they will send 147 again in December 1985. Each time they stay two weeks asthe guests of our Church. So we have not lost contact with the land we loved.(Teauariki, 1996 : 272-273)

10 L'association des Églises anglicanes et protestantes historiques d'Océanie au sein de la

Pacific Conference of Churches (PCC, fondée en 1966) a donné une assise institutionnelle àcette identité régionale. Elle a en outre favorisé l'émergence, autour du Pacific

Theological College (PTC) ouvert l'année suivante à Suva (Fidji), de nouvelles théologiescontextuelles mettant l'accent sur une réappropriation culturelle du messagebiblique 5. De nombreux pasteurs protestants formés dans ce College ont ainsi été aucours des dernières décennies les agents de diffusion de ces théologies du coco, de laterre et de la culture auprès des fidèles de leurs Églises, souvent réticents vis-à-vis decette « nouvelle tradition » (Malogne-Fer, 2007 : 448-452). Ce ré-enracinement militantdu christianisme dans les cultures océaniennes traduit donc à la fois le rejet de ladomination occidentale et l'intégration croissante des Églises protestantes historiquesémancipées de la tutelle des missions européennes dans des réseaux régionaux (PCC) etinternationaux (Conseil œcuménique des Églises, CEVAA 6) ayant accompagné etsoutenu leurs revendications de décolonisation religieuse (Forman, 1984 : 170-171).

11 La globalisation portée par les mouvements évangéliques ne produit pas simplement

une délocalisation des identités religieuses rompant avec un processus historiqued'enracinement culturel, mais plutôt une reconfiguration des liens entre lechristianisme local et les réseaux régionaux ou internationaux qui influencent sonévolution.


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Églises et réseaux évangéliques

12 Le pentecôtisme classique d'origine nord-américaine, dont les assemblées de Dieu sont

en Océanie les principaux représentants, a tissé dès les premiers temps de sonimplantation (dans les années 1920-1930 à Fidji) un réseau de relations régionalesformalisé au cours des années 1960 par une conférence annuelle des assemblées de Dieuanglophones du Pacifique : en 1966, elle rassemblait des délégués de Fidji, Samoa,Tonga, Guam, des Iles Marshall, de Nouvelle-Zélande et d'Hawaii (Larson, 1997 : 110).Une stratégie de mission en cascade – confiant aux nouvelles Églises le soin de toucherles îles auxquelles les reliaient la proximité géographique ou les flux migratoires – et lerecrutement rapide de pasteurs autochtones ont contribué à l'ancrage progressif de cepentecôtisme en Océanie. Il coexiste aujourd'hui en beaucoup d'endroits avec desÉglises charismatiques d'origine locale, comme la Tokaikolo Christian Fellowship fondéeen 1978 par un pasteur méthodiste tongien, et avec des dénominations régionales néesde l'expansion d'Églises australiennes et néo-zélandaises.

13 Cette diversification rapide du protestantisme évangélique produit un entrecroisement

de réseaux, de dynamiques locales, régionales ou internationales, dont les Églises nesont en fait que la partie la plus visible. L'émergence d'un espace religieux à partentière, offrant aux croyants tout à la fois une diversité d'options et un ensemble deréférences communes, encourage en effet la circulation des individus et la constitutionde groupes informels à mi-chemin entre l'institution ecclésiale et les pratiquestraditionnelles de piété familiale. Les formes de la socialisation religieuse en milieupentecôtiste/charismatique, centrée sur l'expérience subjective d'une « relationpersonnelle » avec Dieu (Fer, 2007), et l'existence de courants évangéliques au sein desÉglises protestantes historiques accentuent encore cette dissémination, à laquelle lesmigrations donnent une dimension transnationale.

14 Les organisations missionnaires de jeunesse apparues après la seconde guerre mondiale

en terrain évangélique nord-américain ont tout particulièrement contribué, enOcéanie, à amplifier ce double mouvement de mise en réseaux et de dispersion. Youth

for Christ (YFC, présente dès 1947 en Nouvelle-Zélande), et Youth With a Mission (YWAM,implantée dans la région à partir de la fin des années 1960) ont noué au cours desannées 1980 des partenariats avec de nombreuses Églises protestantes historiques desîles du Pacifique, en se proposant de lutter contre le « péril mormon » et d'enrayer ladésaffection des jeunes envers le protestantisme traditionnel. En avril 1984, dans uncourrier adressé au secrétaire général de l'Église protestante de Polynésie française, unresponsable international de YWAM mentionnait l'accueil favorable reçu à Tonga etSamoa, des pays où le mormonisme enregistrait effectivement une forte progression 7 :

I just returned from Tonga where I personally met with the King and also churchleaders as they are also concerned about the Mormon activity in Tonga. The Kingwas very excited about our ministry and is supporting it at 100 %. (...). Also, I wasable to meet with the Protestant minister of Western Samoa and his brother who ishead of the Christian Church of American Samoa plus many key leaders of thesetwo nations. As you know, they just completed a Mormon temple there also and it isa major threat to the Christian Church. 8

15 La population d'Océanie étant parmi les plus jeunes du monde (avec une proportion de

moins de 15 ans variant de 32,1 % en Micronésie à 39,4 % en Mélanésie 9), l'enjeugénérationnel était lui aussi de nature à convaincre les responsables protestants. Maisl'influence de ces organisations missionnaires a conduit plus sûrement à convertir au


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credo évangélique charismatique les jeunes les plus engagés dans l'Église. Elle a ainsiparticipé à la dispersion des appartenances en établissant des passerelles vers lesÉglises pentecôtistes (Aliimalemanu, 1999 ; Fer, 2009) et en relativisant les frontièresinstitutionnelles au profit d'un protestantisme « générique » ouvert sur de nouveauxréseaux internationaux. Dans les îles comme dans les communautés de migrantspolynésiens – notamment les Pacific Peoples de Nouvelle-Zélande, qui ont joué un rôleclé dans l'expansion de ces organisations missionnaires de jeunesse –, les jeunesprotestants y ont vu la possibilité d'échapper à la tutelle des hiérarchies ecclésiales etau carcan imposé par l'héritage missionnaire, au travers d'une libération del'expression (notamment par la musique) et d'un discours individualisant (« Dieu a unplan pour ta vie ») faisant écho aux transformations affectant le destin social de cettegénération. Dans un contexte de mobilité accrue (sociale et géographique) associée àune élévation générale du niveau d'éducation et au déclin de l'économie familialed'autosubsistance, ces organisations semblaient en effet offrir les ressourcesnécessaires à un changement vécu comme un progrès nécessaire, par l'acquisitiond'une connaissance « plus approfondie » du message biblique (par le biais del'expérience charismatique) et par l'entrée dans l'univers cosmopolite de l'évangélismemondial.

16 Depuis les années 1980, Youth With a Mission se distingue des autres réseaux

missionnaires de jeunesse en articulant ce cosmopolitisme avec une réappropriationmilitante d'expressions culturelles traditionnellement bannies des Églises protestantesocéaniennes – en particulier la danse – et en adossant ce militantisme culturel à uneconception spécifique des relations entre individus et territoires, inspirée de lathéologie du combat spirituel. La manière dont ce type d'acteurs religieux débordent àla fois les frontières du « local » et celles des Églises, et organisent délibérément unedispersion de leur action missionnaire en une multitude de « ministères » et de réseaux« amis », les place généralement hors de vue de l'observation anthropologique. Maisleur stratégie d'influence a aujourd'hui des effets suffisamment significatifs sur lesreprésentations sociales et les constructions identitaires pour laisser voir en outre lesprolongements politiques qu'elle pourrait avoir dans un avenir proche. Ainsi, en faisantdes cultures autochtones un des éléments de l'affirmation de soi (le droit pour chaqueindividu d'être « soi-même ») tout en les réinscrivant dans un ordre divin et naturel (laGenèse comme source de l'identité des peuples et de leur lien essentiel au territoire),YWAM pose les bases de nouvelles formes d'engagement associant individualismereligieux, mobilisations culturelles et militantisme politique. L'analyse du mouvementIsland Breeze (une branche de YWAM qui défend la réhabilitation des culturesocéaniennes comme expressions de la foi chrétienne) et des effets de la diffusion d'unethéologie du combat spirituel en Océanie (à laquelle YWAM a activement contribué),permettra de préciser cette articulation entre individualisation, globalisation etreterritorialisation de l'imaginaire religieux.

Island Breeze et la « nouvelle naissance » des culturespolynésiennes

17 Youth With a Mission est née en 1960 au cœur du multiculturalisme californien, son

fondateur Loren Cunningham étant alors pasteur de jeunesse des assemblées de Dieu,responsable du district de Los Angeles. Interrogé en 2005 sur sa conception de la


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diversité culturelle au sein de YWAM, c'est d'abord à cette Californie des années 1960qu'il fait référence :

When we lived in Los Angeles, on my street, there were Hispanic (...), we had Jewish,we had Chinese, we had Japanese, one of my best friends was black, you know (...).So that I didn't think on ethnicity as being a major problem, I saw that as part of anexciting and more fulfilling life. 10

18 La Californie est toutefois, à cette époque, encore très majoritairement blanche, tout

comme les assemblées de Dieu américaines 11, issues au début du XXe siècle d'un

pentecôtisme blanc réticent vis-à-vis de la fraternisation interraciale – spectaculaire etinédite – expérimentée dans l'effervescence des premiers temps du réveilcharismatique par l'Église du pasteur noir William J. Seymour (Cox, 1995 : 60 ;Blumhofer, 1993 : 117) 12.

19 Le projet de L. Cunningham consiste à mobiliser des « vagues de jeunes » au service

d'une aventure planétaire, la propagation du credo évangélique dans un contexteidéologique dominé par les tensions de la Guerre froide. Il marque aussi bien unerupture générationnelle avec les formes classiques de la contrainte institutionnelle etde l'action missionnaire qu'une réactualisation du messianisme providentielaméricain : cette « conviction que l'Amérique libre et chrétienne serait porteuse d'unemission prophétique, “messianique” particulière », que l'on retrouve à la même époqueexprimée par l'évangéliste Billy Graham (Fath, 2002 : 117) 13. Conformément àl'idéologie traditionnellement dominante en protestantisme évangélique, la libérationdes consciences individuelles, par le biais d'un choix personnel de conversion conçu icicomme la condition d'une transformation géopolitique (la victoire du « monde libre »sur l'athéisme et le communisme), implique alors, aux yeux de L. Cunningham, ledépassement des identités et des frontières culturelles – ces « “systèmes” qui nousséparent les uns des autres » alors que fondamentalement « les hommes sont partoutles mêmes » (Cunningham, 1985 : 45). La configuration particulière des relations entreprotestantisme historique et cultures polynésiennes a pourtant inspiré, au début desannées 1980, un renversement de perspective a priori inattendu, en faisant du « retour »à la culture une des expressions paradigmatiques du choix personnel évangélique. Cerenversement a été rendu possible (et amplifié) par le délitement tendanciel du lienentre institutions, croyances et pratiques produit par l'autonomisation croissante desjeunes générations vis-à-vis des structures traditionnelles d'autorité – communautaireset religieuses –, notamment en situation de migration.

20 Le mouvement Island Breeze, membre officiel du réseau des « ministères » (programmes

d'activités) de Youth With a Mission, a été lancé par le Samoan Sosene Le'au et un groupede douze jeunes étudiants, lors d'une école de formation à l'action missionnaire (school

of evangelism) qu'il dirigeait, en 1979, sur le campus de YWAM à Kona (Big Island,Hawaii). La plupart de ces étudiants, tous polynésiens – à l'exception d'uneNéozélandaise d'origine sud-américaine – avaient en commun d'avoir rompu, par leurconversion au pentecôtisme, avec un héritage familial ancré dans la traditionprotestante. Originaire de Ta'u, une petite île à l'est des Samoa américaines, S. Le'au aainsi grandi dans la Congregational Christian Church (une Église issue de la London

Missionary Society). Il y est demeuré jusqu'à son départ en 1971 pour le College de PagoPago (la capitale), bien qu'il ait été converti au protestantisme évangélique la mêmeannée lors de réunions organisées dans son village par des missionnaires de la diasporasamoane aux États-Unis. À Pago Pago, une seconde conversion, cette fois aupentecôtisme des assemblées de Dieu, l'a fait entrer quelques années plus tard dans un


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univers religieux où la rupture avec les usages culturels « ordinaires » tend à être luecomme un des signes de la conversion véritable, tandis que l'acquisition de manièresd'être occidentales s'y trouve implicitement associée aux espoirs d'ascension sociale etd'ouverture sur le monde.

I never heard it said from the pulpit in so many words, « Your heritage is evil » –écrit S. Le'au –, and yet the message was conveyed in a variety of different ways. (...)I was trying desperately to be « Westernized », while at the same time, holding onto my heritage. (Le'au, 1997 : 47-48)

21 La tradition qu'incarnent aujourd'hui les Églises protestantes de Polynésie s'est

historiquement constituée autour de deux piliers. En premier lieu, la traduction de laBible en langues locales a établi ces Églises dans un rôle de conservatoire des langueset, par extension, des cultures autochtones contre la domination occidentale. Mais endépit des efforts déployés depuis les années 1960 par les théologiens océaniens, cetteconstruction religieuse des identités polynésiennes implique encore aujourd'hui, dansla plupart de ces Églises, une distinction sacré/profane héritée des missionsoccidentales, qui bannit du temple des formes d'expression comme la danse ou lestambours. Des groupes de danse paroissiaux rassemblent pourtant de nombreux jeunespolynésiens et ont participé en beaucoup d'endroits à la réappropriation, par ces jeunesgénérations, d'une fierté culturelle polynésienne (Brami, 2000).

22 Le second pilier de cette tradition protestante consiste, tout particulièrement à Samoa

(Tcherkézoff, 1997 : 338s), en une imbrication des hiérarchies ecclésiales etcommunautaires qui soumet les jeunes Polynésiens à l'autorité des anciens, à la foisdiacres et chefs de famille. Dès lors, la contestation des interdits posés à l'encontred'expressions de la culture qui sont aussi les expressions privilégiées d'un âge, d'untemps social fait de liberté et d'irresponsabilité (taure'are'a en tahitien), n'exprime passeulement une recherche identitaire : elle traduit avant tout une volontéd'affranchissement vis-à-vis des rapports traditionnels de domination entre lesgénérations et entre individus et autorité ecclésiale. Émancipés de cette domination parleur adhésion au pentecôtisme, qui les a dans le même temps éloignés de la principaleinstance assurant la transmission d'une mémoire culturelle et chrétienne polynésienne,les étudiants rassemblés en 1979 autour de S. Le'au ont spontanément repris, lors detemps de « louange », des danses et des mouvements qui exprimaient à leurs yeux lerecouvrement d'une liberté individuelle échappant à l'alternative imposée par leprotestantisme traditionnel et le pentecôtisme classique. En utilisant ces dansespolynésiennes durant le séjour missionnaire qui a suivi leur période de formation, enmarge des Jeux du Pacifique Sud de 1979 à Fidji, ils ont pu ensuite mesurer l'impact quecela pouvait avoir auprès des jeunes protestants océaniens. Réuni, après cette premièreexpérience fidjienne, à Samoa où S. Le'au était désormais directeur national de YWAM,le groupe a alors travaillé à l'élaboration d'un programme de danses pour la mission,avec l'aide de « professionnels de la culture », entrepreneurs investis dans l'économieliée à la mise en spectacle touristique des cultures locales. En 1980, la première tournéea lieu en Nouvelle-Zélande, où les danses d'Island Breeze rencontrent un succèsconsidérable auprès des jeunes Pacific Peoples et Maori des Églises protestantes.

23 Cette reformulation des cultures polynésiennes dans l'espace évangélique emprunte

donc les voies d'une « folklorisation », comprise comme un processus de réagencementdes éléments fragmentés, dispersés d'une tradition, hors de l'approbation desinstitutions gardiennes de la mémoire (Maigret, 2000 : 519-521). Elle a été vécue sur lemode d'une liberté individuelle, par de jeunes Polynésiens qui, étant un temps « sortis »


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de leur culture, y sont revenus au travers d'un choix personnel comparable à celui des« convertis de l'intérieur » (Hervieu-Léger, 1999 : 124s). La mise en cohérence théoriquede cet exercice, souvent très personnel, de réagencement des identités culturelles enmilieu évangélique s'appuie sur la notion ambiguë de « rédemption des cultures »popularisée par le missionnaire américain Don Richardson (Richardson, 1981) – etlargement diffusée depuis par YWAM. Ce que le pragmatisme missionnaire identifiaitcomme des « correspondances » fructueuses entre des éléments culturels locaux et lemessage biblique devient ici la preuve « scientifique » d'un « christianisme enfoui » : lessignes d'une présence « oubliée » du Dieu chrétien dans la mémoire culturelle depeuples pourtant historiquement étrangers au christianisme. Cette perspectiveautorise les convertis évangéliques à réinvestir une identité culturelle « véritable »,c'est-à-dire chrétienne. Elle encourage ainsi une réappropriation critique de ce quiallait de soi quand ils n'étaient que les acteurs « naturels » de cette culture, en tensionentre une simple volonté de réhabiliter formellement des expressions culturellesécartées par le pentecôtisme classique et des entreprises plus militantes participant àl'émergence de protestantismes charismatiques autochtones.

24 Les danses d'Island Breeze se situent elles-mêmes à la croisée de trois univers : une

familiarité avec le langage symbolique des danses polynésiennes acquise grâce à lavulgarisation réalisée par les associations de jeunes, notamment paroissiales ; les codesdu spectacle touristique, une sorte de vocabulaire universel de l'authenticité culturelle– les Maori dansant le haka, les Hawaiiens la hula, les Tahitiens le tamure, etc. – ; enfin,l'univers de la « danse chrétienne » (Inoue, 2003 : 218s), qui revisite des pratiquesanciennes en y introduisant les normes d'une morale chrétienne conservatrice – jupesau-dessous du genou, sensualité réfrénée et paroles d'inspiration biblique.

Des identités à géométrie variable

25 Dans les îles polynésiennes, les danses d'Island Breeze ont incité des jeunes protestants à

prendre à contre-pied les hiérarchies traditionnelles, en se plaçant sur leur propreterrain – la défense de la tradition culturelle – pour revendiquer le droit de définir pareux-mêmes les relations entre christianisme et culture. Elles ont en outre été reprisespar des courants charismatiques proches de YWAM, associant dans un mêmelibéralisme radical, liberté d'expression culturelle et libre expérimentation de « l'actiondu Saint-Esprit », en opposition au rigorisme autoritaire du pentecôtisme classique(Fer, 2005 : 414-420).

26 Pour beaucoup de jeunes Pacific Peoples de Nouvelle-Zélande, en particulier ceux des

paroisses polynésiennes de l'Église presbytérienne (Pacific Islanders Presbyterian

Churches), Island Breeze a semblé surtout offrir la possibilité d'une « nouvelle naissance »à la fois culturelle et religieuse. Souvent disqualifiés par les responsables d'Église àcause de leur intégration à la culture dominante néo-zélandaise et de leur faiblemaîtrise des langues polynésiennes, ces jeunes ont trouvé là un moyen de transformerleur identité culturelle et religieuse en une affaire personnelle, échappant à la tutelledes autorités traditionnelles. Du fait de la relative incertitude qu'instillent la situationde migration et le contexte multiculturel néo-zélandais, cette liberté « d'être soi-même » a pu conduire à différentes élaborations identitaires et à des appartenancessymboliques variables, au-delà de la seule identité nationale, insulaire ou villageoisehéritée de la génération précédente. Ainsi, le fondateur de la branche néo-zélandaise


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d'Island Breeze est un Samoan né en Nouvelle-Zélande qui « s'est toujours considérécomme un Maori » 14. L'ancien président international de YWAM, Frank Naea, qui aparticipé à Island Breeze pendant quinze ans, est né en Nouvelle-Zélande d'un pèremaori et d'une mère samoane, et se définit de préférence en tant que Polynésien oucomme autochtone 15. On aperçoit ainsi les deux cercles d'appartenance auxquels lesjeunes convertis par Island Breeze s'identifient simultanément. Le premier dessine unefraternité supranationale (Polynésiens) ou régionale (Océaniens), une résurgence del'idéal du Pacific Way qui, en situation de migration, prend appui sur une sous-culturePacific Peoples issue de l'expérience commune d'une domination sociale et d'un doubleécart culturel :

[They] had in many cases, grown up in extended families, lived in similar homes inthe same suburbs, attended the same schools and churches, competed in the sameschool cultural festivals and Sunday schools scriptural examinations, played in thesame rugby and netball teams (...). Many were also aware they shared anotherexperience: an identity which was different from both their island-born parentsand their local hosts (Anae, 1998). This provided the platform for the emergence ofa « sub-culture » based on common descent and similar experience. (Macpherson,2004 : 143)

27 Transcendée en une identité transnationale indissociablement culturelle et chrétienne

par les réseaux missionnaires évangéliques comme YWAM ou Youth for Christ, cettesous-culture prend la forme d'un christianisme du Sud, revendiquant la foi chrétiennecomme un élément culturel distinctif face à la déchristianisation occidentale.

28 Le second cercle d'appartenance, plus large, est celui des peuples autochtones : une

référence identitaire qui, conjuguée au pluriel, renvoie aux réseaux internationauxd'une autochtonie globale. Leur structuration a été encouragée par la prise en comptecroissante des questions autochtones au sein des organisations onusiennes et la mise enplace de lieux de concertation tels que le groupe de travail sur les populationsautochtones (WGIP en version anglaise) et l'instance permanente sur les questionsautochtones. Fondée sur des expériences similaires – colonisation, dépossession desterres, exploitation, répression culturelle, etc. – cette solidarité a conduit àl'élaboration d'une autochtonie générique (Morin, 2009), une méta-identité le plussouvent définie en termes de rapports spécifiques à la terre et aux ancêtres. Leprotestantisme évangélique, que son tropisme individualisant rend a priori étranger àce type de revendications identitaires, les a pourtant déclinées en mettant en scène despeuples autochtones « nés de nouveau », au prix d'un certain nombre d'ambiguïtés etde tensions internes. Island Breeze est aujourd'hui implanté en Floride, aux Philippines,au Brésil et dans le Missouri en milieu amérindien. Et son action a inspiré la créationd'un rassemblement mondial des peuples autochtones chrétiens (WCGIP) réuni pour lapremière fois en 1996 à Auckland à l'invitation du leader maori Monte Ohia. Mais dansle Pacifique, c'est au sein de sociétés multiculturelles et en situation de migration, enAustralie et en Nouvelle-Zélande, qu'Island Breeze a connu ses développements les plusimportants.

29 Au sein de YWAM et des courants évangéliques charismatiques de même tendance, la

perspective d'une libre recomposition des identités personnelles par le biais d'une« nouvelle naissance » à la fois culturelle et religieuse se trouve de fait contrecarrée pardes logiques contraires d'assignation identitaire et de reterritorialisation symboliquede l'identité. La première logique participe d'une naturalisation de la diversitéculturelle déplorée jusque dans les rangs de YWAM, par d'anciens membres d'Island


44

Breeze. Ainsi June Mataia, auteure-compositeur samoane de « musique chrétienne »associant les rythmes océaniens au blues, au jazz ou au hip hop, déplore-t-elle à la foisun « enjolivement » folklorique (glamorization) des cultures polynésiennes et uneapproche trop essentialiste des identités culturelles :

A lot of misconception, even in our organization, is that when you are dark, whenyou are from the islands, you must know, so if I don't know much about the trueSamoan, whatever I give, that's the culture. And so that's the dilemma that we gothrough. 16

30 La seconde logique provient de l'influence croissante, en Océanie comme ailleurs, d'une

théologie du combat spirituel, qui a contribué au cours des deux dernières décennies àtransformer profondément le rapport du protestantisme charismatique à la culture etau territoire.

Combat spirituel : le retour des territoires

31 Le thème du « combat spirituel » (Spiritual Warfare), associé à des pratiques de

« cartographie spirituelle » (Spiritual Mapping) induisant une reterritorialisation del'imaginaire évangélique, est apparu au tournant des années 1990 dans les écrits demissiologues nord-américains de la « troisième vague » pentecôtiste (Cox, 1995 : 249s).Face à la libération des mœurs amorcée au cours des années 1960 et à l'expansionrapide d'agglomérations urbaines où dominent mobilité individuelle etdéterritorialisation des appartenances religieuses, la référence à des « esprits deslieux » est à leurs yeux la clé symbolique permettant à l'action missionnaire dereprendre prise sur des sociétés occidentales en voie de « déchristianisation ». Il s'agit,pour ces auteurs qui s'inspirent à la fois de leur propre expérience missionnaire et de lalittérature anthropologique, de « prendre au sérieux les conceptions des sociétéstraditionnelles non-occidentales » (Ediger, 2004 : 268) relatives aux esprits tutélaires etaux liens entre individu et territoire.

Demonic bondage – explique Floyd McClung, un des responsables internationaux deYWAM – is normally associated with individuals, but the moral disintegration ofour society makes the possibility of large-scale spiritual warfare against entirecities or nations seem possible. (...) If we have a view of sin that is limited topersonal choices, we will miss an important truth: Cities and nations take spiritualcharacters and lives of their own. (McFlung, 1991 : 29-31)

32 La délivrance des « territorial, social and institutional bodies deemed to be under the

domination of demonic powers » (Ediger, 2004 : 269) suppose une exploration del'espace et de l'histoire afin d'identifier les lieux, les « portes » et les « clés » dontdépend l'issue victorieuse de ce combat contre les esprits du Mal. Au côté de PeterC. Wagner, auteur-phare de ce mouvement, les responsables de Youth With a Mission ontjoué un rôle essentiel dans l'élaboration puis la diffusion de cette théologie, jusque dansles îles du Pacifique, où elle rejoint en partie les conceptions culturelles des liens entrel'individu et sa terre natale 17 et une étiologie traditionnelle associant lieux, esprits etmaladie (Grand, 2007 : 167s).

33 Le décentrement de l'engagement missionnaire, de l'individu vers le territoire, et ses

implications sur le statut conféré aux peuples autochtones – érigés en gardiensspirituels des terres à conquérir – ont ainsi pu trouver un écho important auprès descommunautés protestantes d'Océanie. Il reste difficile d'en mesurer l'ampleur exacte,en l'absence d'études ethnographiques précises, à l'exception d'un article publié en


45

2005 par Dan Jorgensen, dont le titre souligne bien les différents niveaux d'analysequ'impliquent le phénomène : « Third Wave Evangelism and the Politics of the Global inPapua New Guinea: Spiritual Warfare and the Recreation of Place in Telefomin »(Jorgensen, 2005). Au niveau national, D. Jorgensen rappelle l'organisation en 1997,1999 et 2002 de plusieurs « opérations » (le terme fait référence, chez P. C. Wagner, aumode de planification des opérations militaires) visant à s'assurer la maîtrise spirituelledu territoire de la Papouasie Nouvelle-Guinée. Pour ce faire, la seconde de cesopérations, baptisée « Prayer Wall », vit plusieurs équipes d'« intercesseurs » prier surdes lieux stratégiques tels que les ministères ou le Parlement, tandis qu'une autreéquipe empruntait un avion officiel « to fly along the border with Irian Jaya, prayingthat Papua New Guinea might be protected from outside evil influences. They alsocircumnavigated the entire country in a navy patrol boat erecting a “prayer wall”(...) » (Gibbs, 2005 cité par Jorgensen, 2005 : 449). Au niveau local, D. Jorgensen décrit enoutre l'impact de l'opération Joshua, menée en 2002, sur un village éloigné desmontagnes du Sepik occidental. Dans ce village dont la plupart des habitants étaientd'ores et déjà convertis au protestantisme charismatique, l'opération entraîna ladestruction d'une maison des esprits, afin de briser une « emprise démoniaque ». Cettedestruction souligne deux caractéristiques essentielles de ces pratiques de cartographieet de combat spirituels. Premièrement, la vie des convertis locaux est influencée,indépendamment de leur croyances individuelles, par leur appartenance à un territoiresur lequel un lieu donné, parce qu'il est considéré comme le siège d'esprits maléfiques(associé ici à l'histoire, aux ancêtres), doit être rayé de la carte. Deuxièmement, ce lieuacquiert une signification supplémentaire dans la mesure où la cartographie spirituellel'a identifié comme une des pointes d'un « triangle de la sorcellerie » dont l'influences'exerce cette fois à l'échelle du pays tout entier.

34 Ce qu'apprennent les écoles de Spiritual Mapping, explique un pentecôtiste tahitien

ayant suivi une formation délivrée par YWAM à Tonga en 1993, c'est que le destin dechacun est profondément enraciné dans la terre à laquelle il appartient mais que biendes « racines » – qu'il appelle aussi les « liens avec le passé » – doivent être coupées. Lesconvertis doivent donc entreprendre « des recherches sur ce qui s'est passé avant, lesiniquités, les racines du passé (...). Et pour déraciner toutes les forces que Satan a mises,quels que soient les pays, il faut aller en profondeur (...), il faut vraiment disséquer pourpouvoir arriver à ce qu'une prière soit vraiment efficace » 18. La réaffirmation du lienétroit entre les individus et les territoires s'accompagne donc d'une reconfigurationprofonde du rapport au passé local, suivant les lignes tracées par une théorieévangélique de la « rédemption des cultures » qui produit in fine l'identité « autochtonechrétienne ».

35 En 1990, alors qu'il assistait à la célébration des 150 ans du traité de Waitangi 19, un

exercice de cartographie spirituelle appliquée à la Nouvelle-Zélande a ainsi convaincuJohn Dawson – actuel président international (d'origine néo-zélandaise) de YWAM –que le peuple maori était le gardien spirituel (Gate Keeper) de la terre d'Aotearoa NewZealand. De cette conviction découle le devoir de reconnaître la primauté des droitsautochtones (en accord avec le biculturalisme officiel maori-pākehā instauré au coursdes années 1980-1990), mais aussi la nécessité de concentrer les efforts missionnairessur la conversion des Maori au protestantisme évangélique. Une double perspectiverésumée par le leader maori Monte Ohia lors d'un congrès national des évangéliquesnéo-zélandais, en 1997 : repentance et réconciliation des Maori avec Dieu d'abord, entreMaori et Pākehā ensuite (Bruce, 1997 : 130-145). La recomposition (et l'évidement) des


46

contenus culturels autochtones au nom de leur nécessaire « christianisation » voisinedonc avec des processus de réappropriation et de remobilisation identitaires. Et lesthèses des théoriciens nord-américains du combat spirituel, en retournant – par un deces détours inattendus de la globalisation religieuse – vers les sociétés non-occidentalesdont elles s'étaient inspirées, donnent finalement corps à l'un des paradoxes del'expansion pentecôtiste : « a religion that localizes easily yet claims to brook nocompromise with traditional life and that at the same time seems to have at its heart aset of globalized practices that often look very local in their makeup » (Robbins, 2003 :224).

Conclusion : Des îles Salomon à Jérusalem, enpassant par la Californie

36 Juillet 2009 à Pasadena (Californie). La 7e édition de la All Pacific Prayer Assembly se

réunit à l'invitation de ses représentants micronésiens, afin de prier pour le « salut desnations » et l'accomplissement de la vision prophétique du Deep Sea Canoe (« la piroguede haute mer ») reçue en 1986 par le pasteur salomonais Michael Maeliau (Maeliau,2007) : Un nuage, formé dans une des vallées des îles Salomon, flottera au-dessus desnations océaniennes avant de se transformer en vague puis en tsunami, atteignant lescôtes américaines pour finalement repartir vers l'ouest, vers le Pacifique, l'Asie et lecontinent africain. Le lancement du mouvement, en 1991 aux îles Salomon, marquaitles débuts de cette entreprise de ré-évangélisation apportant le « réveil » depuis les« extrémités de la terre » jusqu'à Jérusalem et revendiquant l'établissement de« gouvernements chrétiens » dans le Pacifique.

37 Cette édition californienne fournit une sorte d'illustration condensée des processus

complexes par lesquels les réseaux évangéliques concourent aujourd'hui en Océanie àune reconfiguration profonde du militantisme chrétien et des relations liant individus,cultures et territoires. Elle montre en particulier de façon saisissante comment laglobalisation pentecôtiste contribue dans le même temps à une transnationalisation desidentités religieuses et à leur reterritorialisation symbolique (Mary, 2000 : 118).Reprenant à son compte l'épopée missionnaire océanienne et l'ambition d'un Pacific

Way, l'Assemblée de prière tisse entre les chrétiens « nés de nouveau » des îlesmélanésiennes, polynésiennes et micronésiennes de nouveaux réseaux de solidarité.Soutenus par YWAM, ces réseaux transcendent les frontières confessionnelles enrassemblant des croyants issus des Églises pentecôtistes, charismatiques, ou descourants évangéliques des Églises protestantes historiques reliés par des échanges via

Internet et des circulations régionales. Ils incluent en outre les diasporaspolynésiennes, de la Nouvelle-Zélande 20 jusqu'aux côtes de la Californie, puisque c'estla présence d'une importante communauté migrante de Micronésie qui a conduit àl'organisation de cette édition californienne de 2009. Enfin, le mouvement met en scèneune fierté culturelle océanienne et la relation primordiale entre l'identité et la terre, eninvitant par exemple les participants au rassemblement de 2004 à apporter chacun unepierre, pour édifier à Tahiti un « tabernacle de David », érigé symboliquement dans lepays où se trouve une des « extrémités du monde » 21. En Californie, l'Assemblée deprière s'est tenue sur les terres ancestrales des Amérindiens Hopi, salués comme lesgardiens spirituels de la terre lors d'une cérémonie protocolaire. Tandis qu'il sedéterritorialise en englobant les communautés transnationales océaniennes dans sa


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« vision » d'une reconquête évangélique du monde, le mouvement opère ainsi lajonction avec le réseau mondial des « autochtones chrétiens », dont des représentantsétaient présents à Pasadena.

NOTES

1. Les données de terrain auxquelles cet article fait référence proviennent notamment, pour les

plus récentes, d'enquêtes réalisées de juin à octobre 2009 aux îles Cook et en Polynésie française,

dans le cadre du projet jeune chercheur MYSTOU, « Un mysticisme pour tous. Conceptions de

l'individu et conditions d'implantation des protestantismes évangéliques : Europe, Maghreb,

Arctique, Océanie », soutenu et financé par l'Agence nationale de la recherche (no ANR-08-

JCJC-0060-01) et dirigé par Christophe Pons (IDEMEC).

2. Dès les années 1920-1930, les premières missions pentecôtistes américaines installées à Fidji

touchaient par exemple les travailleurs venus des îles Salomon, de Samoa et de Tonga, qui

contribuèrent à la diffusion du pentecôtisme dans leurs îles d'origine (Larson, 1997 : 37).

3. Le pasteur samoan F. Liua'ana estimait par exemple, en 1994 (une affirmation régulièrement

réitérée depuis par les dirigeants de son Église) que la Congregational Christian Church in Samoa

(CCCS) « does not meet the needs of individuals because its priority is to meet the needs of the

community. The concept of “individualism” is foreign to Samoans. “Individualism” (a central

mentality within NRGs [new religious groups]) is selfishness in the Samoan mentality. (...) The CCCS

deals with the individuals' needs, through the community to which they belong. » (Liua'ana,

1994 : 79).

4. Les missions catholiques s'étendent elles aussi au cours du XIXe siècle, sous l'impulsion de la

congrégation de Picpus dans la partie orientale de l'Océanie et des pères maristes dans la partie

occidentale (Girard, 2008).

5. Cf. l'article de Gilles VIDAL.

6. La CEVAA est une « communauté d'Églises en mission » rassemblant 37 Églises liées à la

mission protestante francophone, principalement en Europe (France, Suisse) et en Afrique. Elle

est notamment à l'origine d'un colloque organisé en juillet 2000 à Lifou (Nouvelle-Calédonie) sur

le thème de « la théologie de la terre dans les Églises du Pacifique ».

7. À Tonga, le recensement officiel de 1986 indiquait un taux de 12,2 % de Mormons dans la

population totale. Il était de 10,2 % aux Samoa occidentales lors du recensement de 1991 et de

12,5 % aux Samoa américaines en 1995.

8. Courrier du 26 avril 1984 adressé par Tom Bauer, directeur des écoles de formation de YWAM

(DTS Schools) à M. John Doom, secrétaire général de l'Église évangélique de Polynésie française

(Archives de l'EEPF).

9. Estimations établies en 2005 par l'ONU.

10. Entretien du 6 mai 2005 avec Loren Cunningham, à Kona (Big Island, Hawaii).

11. En 2000, un rapport établi par les assemblées de Dieu à l'occasion de leur congrès annuel

indiquait une proportion de 64 % de Blancs parmi les membres de ces Églises (18,6 %

d'Hispaniques et 7,8 % de Noirs).

12. Le prédicateur baptiste William J. Seymour a ouvert en 1906, au 312 rue Azusa à Los Angeles,

une Église devenue depuis le lieu légendaire de naissance du pentecôtisme.


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13. Après avoir été l'un des premiers équipiers de Youth for Christ, B. Graham a fondé en 1950 sa

propre organisation missionnaire, la Billy Graham Evangelistic Association.

14. Entretien du 19 septembre 2005 avec Ray Totorewa, directeur national d'Island Breeze New

Zealand, à Tauranga.

15. Entretien avec Frank Naea, le 5 octobre 2005, à Auckland.

16. Entretien du 29 avril 2005 avec June Mataia, à Kona (Big Island, Hawaii).

17. Cf. notamment l'article de G. Vidal et la place accordée par les théologies contextuelles à la

terre, dans leurs représentations de l'identité culturelle océanienne.

18. Entretien avec Mario Teaniuniuraitemoana, le 24 avril 2002 à Pirae (Tahiti, Polynésie

française).

19. Conclu en 1840 entre la Grande-Bretagne et des chefs maori, avec le concours de

missionnaires protestants, le traité de Waitangi est aujourd’hui considéré comme le fondement

du biculturalisme néo-zélandais, qui scelle l’alliance entre les premiers occupants de la terre

d’Aotearoa et les Pākehā, Néo-zélandais d’origine occidentale.

20. L'un des fondateurs du mouvement, le pasteur samoan Milo Siilata habite ainsi sur Leonore

Road, au cœur des quartiers polynésiens du sud d'Auckland... et à quelques mètres de la base

nationale de YWAM Nouvelle-Zélande.

21. Pour les leaders du mouvement, cette « extrémité », le point géographiquement le plus

éloigné de Jérusalem, est situé au sud de l'île de Rapa, dans l'archipel des îles Australes.

RÉSUMÉS

La progression spectaculaire du protestantisme évangélique et de sa « culture de réseau » en

Polynésie prend appui sur les migrations régionales et sur l'aspiration des jeunes générations à

dissocier foi personnelle et soumission à l'autorité ecclésiale. Pour autant, elle n'est pas

réductible à un simple mouvement de globalisation, rompant radicalement avec l'enracinement

culturel du protestantisme historique. L'analyse des réseaux régionaux liés à l'organisation

internationale charismatique Youth With a Mission éclaire ainsi la manière dont des courants

évangéliques se réapproprient, en des termes qui leur sont propres, l'histoire missionnaire

polynésienne et les identités culturelles autochtones, pour les inscrire in fine dans une théologie

globale du « combat spirituel », entre « folklorisation » des cultures, déterritorialisation des

appartenances et exaltation du lien « naturel » entre individus et territoires.

The spectacular growth of Evangelical Protestantism and its “network culture” in Polynesia

relies on regional migrations and young generations who aspire to disentangle personal faith and

obedience to church authority. And yet, this growth can't be simply reduced to a trend of

globalisation, breaking away from the deep cultural roots of historical Protestantism in the

region. The analysis of regional networks linked with the charismatic international organisation

Youth With a Mission thus shows how some Evangelical movements re-appropriate, in their own

terms, the Polynesian missionary history and local cultural identities; and how they finally

interpret them in the frame of a global theology of spiritual warfare combining a “folklorisation”

of culture and a de-territorialisation of personal membership with the exaltation of the “natural”

bonds between individuals and territories.


49

La progresión espectacular del protestantismo evangélico y de su “cultura de red” en Polinesia se

apoya en las migraciones regionales y en la tendencia de las generaciones jóvenes a disociar fe

personal y sumisión a la autoridad eclesial. Sin embargo, esta progresión no es reductible a un

simple movimiento de globalización, y rompe radicalmente con el arraigo cultural del

protestantismo histórico. El análisis de las redes regionales ligadas a la organización

internacional carismática Youth With a Mission (Jóvenes con una Misión) aclara así la manera en

que corrientes evangélicas se reapropian, de manera particular, de la historia misionera polinesia

y de las identidades culturales autóctonas, para inscribirlas finalmente en una teología global de

la “guerra espiritual”, entre “folklorización” de las culturas, deterritorialización de las

pertenencias y exaltación del lazo “natural” entre individuos y territorios.

INDEX

Mots-clés : culture, évangéliques, Polynésie, réseaux, territoire

Palabras claves : cultura, evangélicos, Polinesia, redes, territorio

Keywords : culture, Evangelicals, networks, Polynesia, territory

AUTEUR

YANNICK FER

Groupe Sociétés, Religions, Laïcités, EPHE, CNRS, [email protected]


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Secondary Conversion and theAnthropology of Christianity inMelanesiaConversion secondaire et anthropologie du christianisme en Mélanésie

Conversión secundaria y antropología del cristianismo en Melanesia

John Barker

1 The Anthropology of Christianity is very much the child of a broader transformation in

the discipline often referred to as the “historical turn” or, specifically in the case of thesouthwest Pacific, the “new Melanesian historiography” (Foster, 1995b). While someaspects of this initiative continue to be subject to widespread criticism—particularlythe “invention of tradition” concept—most of its lessons have been deeply absorbed.Ethnographers have for the most part abandoned the fiction of treating local “cultures”as self-contained and self-replicating entities, lying outside of history and unconnectedto the outside world. This in turn has opened the door to studies of aspects of themodern experience of Melanesians largely ignored in the older literature both from thetraditional ethnographic perspective of local communities and, most significantly, interms of regional and global networks and developments. Prior to these widerintellectual developments, anthropologists tended to think about MelanesianChristianity—when they thought of it at all—mainly in the context of local people'sacceptance or resistance to missionaries which, in turn, was conceptualized as amovement from indigenous tradition to Western modernity. Such assumptions workedto deflect attention away from Christianity as a subject in its own right (Barker, 1990a,1992). Taking Melanesian Christianity seriously requires a far more sophisticated,multidimensional understanding of Melanesian society, Christianity and the dynamicsof social and religious change.

2 To repeat, these lessons have been deeply absorbed, well beyond Melanesian studies

(Cannell, 2006, Engelke and Tomlinson, 2006, Hefner, 1993). All the same, we arecontinually presented with dualistic models of Christian conversion. Thus theComaroffs (1991, 1997) configure their analysis in Of Revelation and Revolution around a


51

“long conversation” between British missionaries and the Tswana in a process that, inways direct and subtle, absorbed Africans into the emergent hegemonic orientations ofthe West. Whitehouse (1998) perceives conversion in Melanesia as entailing aconfrontation of two radically distinct forms of cognition between Westernmissionaries and indigenous populations, played out in diametrically opposed modes ofritual practice. In a series of influential articles, Robbins (2003, 2005, 2007) has resisteda widespread tendency to conflate Christianity with Western modernity; yet his modelalso assumes a dualistic structure, with conversion entailing “rupture” from previouscultural configurations to a Christianity characterized, in Dumontian fashion, by a focalset of key orienting values, particularly individualism. Inevitably, Robbins' position hasprovoked opposition from several anthropologists who marshal evidence from variousparts of the world to demonstrate that in many places people have experiencedconversion as an addition to or fulfillment of local traditions, that there is considerablecontinuity in change (Hann, 2007, McDougall, 2009, Mosko, 2010). Most anthropologistsof Christianity occupy the mushy middle in such debates, seeing evidence of bothcontinuity and change (Barker, 2008b). All the same, the terms various scholars havecoined to describe local manifestations of Christianity in Africa or Oceania—as“multiple”, “vernacular”, “hybrid”, and the like—reveal just how difficult it is to let goof the underlying dichotomy of the (modern) West versus the (traditional) Rest (cf.

Jebens, 2011: 92-93).

3 While the dualistic models have merits and uses in analyzing long term patterns of

conversion, they may severely distort researchers' understandings of what theyencounter in the field. In much of village Melanesia, particularly insular and lowlandsregions, Christianity exists within a neo-traditional complex of customary practicesand introduced institutions. People often talk of Christianity as occupying its owndomain, distinct from kastom (“custom”) and government spheres (Barker, 2007b, Otto,1992). Where historical records are thin or lacking, the temptation may be to map apresent-day ideological model onto the past and interpret contemporary practices asevidence of rupture or continuity. Yet careful ethnohistorical research has consistentlydemonstrated that contemporary “traditions” in Pacific Island communities have beendeeply influenced by Christianity (White, 1991). By the same token, localunderstandings of Christianity frequently bear the deep imprints of indigenouscosmologies and reciprocal moralities—even when converts consciously struggle towholly abandon their previous cultures (Burt, 1994, Robbins, 2004). In other words,present configurations offer at best ambiguous clues as to the direction of acommunity's conversion.

4 Few anthropologists have witnessed, and even fewer studied, the initial conversion of a

Melanesian community. 1 Yet it is not unusual today to observe events that appearremarkably reminiscent of the early missionary encounter: confrontations betweenadherents of newish mainly conservative Evangelical Christians and settledcongregations in the villages. The former—mostly younger and better educated—regard the long-established local church with its toleration of kastom as little betterthan paganism. The old guard, in turn, defends their established ways in the name of“tradition”, a category that here includes familiar forms of Christian worship andpractice (Errington and Gewertz, 1995). In other cases, local people succumb to theappeal of the new evangelists, abandoning the humdrum business of daily life for the“mad” ecstasy of Christian revivalism (Clark, 1992, Robin, 1982). Not surprising, severalscholars have fallen back upon a familiar mode of explanation. Thus Mosko (2010)


52

perceives patterns of exchange within revivalist Christianity as analogous toMelanesian notions of “partible” personhood. At the other extreme, Ernst (1994)perceives the ardent individualism of the newer churches as auguring a complete breakwith the collectivist values of the past (cf. Digim'Rina, 1999). Thus the new situation ofsecondary conversion provokes a familiar debate: whether the transformations are bestunderstood as cultural continuity—old wine in new bottles—or the replacement of oneculture by another, a modern replay of the “fatal impact” of missionary interference inthe early years of contact in Polynesia (Moorehead, 1966).

5 This essay's task is to set out some suggestions to aid in the study of secondary

conversion in western Melanesia. I have already discussed the first and perhaps themost basic: the need to suspend—if not jettison completely—missionary and similarlydualistic models of conversion in analyzing religious change in the short term,particularly in today's common situation of denominational sectarianism andsecondary conversion of people already familiar with Christian principles andpractices. My main purpose, however, is positive. I make three general points. The firstis an appeal to treat secondary conversion within an historical framework. In mostrural areas, the new evangelists do not encounter a pristine indigenous cultural orderbut rather one in which already incorporates Christianity and this, in turn, inevitablyshapes the reception of new versions of the religion. Second, anthropologists need tolook beyond their traditional bases in rural villages to fully deal with the new situation.The dynamic center of Christianity has shifted from missions and seminaries servingrural areas to new urban-based churches that extend across regional networks. This inturn calls for much more attention to urban studies as well as multi-sited ethnographicstrategies to better capture the regional aspects of Christianity. Finally, I warn against aworrisome tendency to turn the Anthropology of Christianity into a sub-discipline inwhich anthropologists speaking only to other anthropologists. One of the signalweaknesses of current anthropological research on Christianity in Melanesia is a lack ofattention to scholarship on the subject from other disciplinary viewpoints. 2

In Media Res: the Social Impact of SecondaryConversion in Christian Melanesia

6 In his brilliant Religious Encounter and the Making of the Yoruba, John Peel (2000: 24)

writes that the study of Christianity in Nigeria:

Does not start at the beginning, but has to plunge media res... We come in on peoplein a predicament, in the middle straits of something... Yoruba agents of the ChurchMissionary Society were always aware that they stood in the middle of a process oftumultuous, unprecedented change.

7 Peel is here writing of the initial period of missionary encounter, making what has now

become a standard, if challenging, argument. History in places like Nigeria does notbegin or become definitively defined by the arrival and actions of European colonialistsor their agents. Instead, the intruders enter into the midst of an unfolding situationshaped as much if not more by the cultural practices and orientations, aspirations andpersonalities of the indigenous peoples. The same holds true for contemporaryMelanesia, only here the latest wave of Christian evangelists are unlikely to encounterpeople unfamiliar with the Bible or church services. Instead, they enter unfolding


53

histories already shaped by earlier missionary encounters and, in many cases, longacceptance of Christian practice and ideas.

8 From the perspective of local societies, the history of Christianity in Melanesia unfolds

in three distinctive, if overlapping, phases (Garrett, 1992, 1997, Trompf, 1991). The firstphase predated and continued through much of the colonial period up to the end of theSecond World War. By mutual agreement backed by government enforcement—withsome limited but important exceptions 3—a small number of missions carved outdifferent spheres of operation in the islands and lowlands of western Melanesia,producing over time a distinctive geography of denominational affiliation:Presbyterians in central Vanuatu, Congregationalists in the Loyalty Islands andsouthern Papua, Roman Catholics in the hinterlands behind Yule Island, and so forth.Poorly financed and understaffed, these missions relied to a considerable extent on thelabour of converts to expand their influence and operate an ever-increasing number ofvillage churches and schools (e.g., Barker, 2005). Apart from mission stations andvillages under the direct supervision of European staffs, this form of expansionvirtually guaranteed local compromises and accommodations: fertile grounds for abewildering array of syncretic expressions, the most famous of which were the so-called “cargo cults” (Worsley, 1968). All the same, for most Melanesians during thecolonial period, the missions provided by far the main point of contact withWesterners. This was in no small part because they held a near monopoly oneducational and medical services as well as engaging in commercial enterprises andvarious experiments in social engineering such as “industrial missions” (Langmore,1989, Wetherell, 1977).

9 A second phase of evangelization occurred following the Second World War and lasted

well into the 1960s. The established missions received increased financing fromsupporters and governments, allowing them to provide indigenous teachers and clergywith better training, to open secondary schools and specialized colleges, and to expandinto unevangelized areas. Entrance into the new fields, however, was marked bysharply increased competition as the old comity agreements were abandoned and anumber of new denominations entered the scene. The stature of individual missionswas further diminished as colonial governments assumed increasing control ofeducation and health services, setting up their own systems while establishingstandards (along with most of the financing) for most church-run schools and hospitals(Clay, 2005).

10 The third phase, dating from the mid-1960s, is of principal interest to this paper. In

tandem with most colonial governments in the region, the established missionsunderwent rapid decolonization, promoting indigenous clergy to positions ofleadership and setting the grounds for the emergence of national churches. In line withthe nationalist ethos of the time, the mainline churches also worked to make theirpeace with indigenous cultures, deliberately encouraging the merging of Christian andlocal ritual forms and the development of distinctively Melanesian theologies (Trompf,1987). With a large majority of Melanesians at least nominally Christian, new missionsburst upon the scene. Some, such as the Seventh-Day Adventists, had actually had asmall presence in the region for decades but only now began to aggressively expand.Most, however, were newcomers: mostly Fundamentalist and Pentecostal sectsaccompanied by Evangelical interdenominational “para-church” organizations, 4 suchas the Wycliffe Bible Translators and World Vision. Some worked as traditional


54

missions, carrying their versions of Christianity to the last remote peoples yetuntouched by the Word. The majority targeted populations that had belonged to themainline churches for a generation or more yet who, from their perspective, werescarcely better than “untouched heathen”. Pentecostal groups in particular weredecentralized and highly egalitarian in their organization. Initially established in urbanareas, they attracted young men and women to their enthusiastic worship services.Over time, members attended small urban seminaries, often under the tutelage of acharismatic white pastor, and then fanned out, back to their home villages to conducttheir own “crusades” and set up new congregations or breakaway churches (Barr,1983). One of the defining marks of the third phase of evangelism in the region hasbeen the explosion in the number of Christian organizations. Studying census andother materials, Philip Gibbs (2006) identified thirty or so churches and missions atwork in Papua New Guinea in 1971; by 2000, this number had ballooned to more than200, probably an underestimate.

11 For remote and recently converted peoples, the arrival of revivalist missionaries

replays in some ways the initial confrontation of Christianity with indigenous cultureselsewhere in the Pacific (see, e.g., Knauft, 2002, Robbins, 2004, Schieffelin, 2002, Tuzin,1997). For the most part, however, the latest emissaries of the Word have been enteringcommunities in which Christianity is long established. People may be told and even feelthat they are not truly Christian when confronted by the new evangelists, but they arenot being introduced into an entirely novel religious universe. The basic forms arefamiliar; the jump is not so great cognitively. A new chapter may be opening, but it isone in which the church is already a familiar presence.

12 One would thus expect the reception of third phase evangelists to be conditioned by

people's prior experience of Christianity and the nature of the local churchestablishment. Missions created new social configurations wherever they took root, butthese varied significantly according to both local conditions and the form of missionorganization. In some places, such as the “school villages” found in parts of theSolomon Islands and Vanuatu, converts formed new settlements distinguished bothspatially and organizationally from “custom” villages (Burt, 1994, Eriksen, 2008). In thelow density interior regions of Papua, villagers often shifted from far flung smallsettlements to concentrate around mission stations to take advantage of school,medical facilities and opportunities for trade (Knauft, 2002, Wetherell and Carr-Gregg,1984). Where missions built schools and churches within established villages, thechanges were more subtle but in the long run often profound, affecting forms ofgovernance, exchanges, and customary practices (Barker, 1996). Those villagesfortunate enough to possess a school—and better yet, a school run by a whitemissionary—provided the missions with the bulk of their new clergy and healthworkers. As the Melanesian territories decolonized, these mission villages formed theprimary pool for the creation of a professional class in the government and privatespheres of the emergent countries.

13 The form of church establishment in any locality depended upon many factors, not

least the reception by local people upon whom the missions depended heavily forrecruits, labour, food and other necessities. While not determinate, the contributionsfrom the mission side were nevertheless important. All missions, past and present,share certain broad characteristics deriving from common Christian principles,programs of moral reform, and practical requirements for sustaining their operations.


55

Once a mission has been accepted into a local community, the form that localChristianity takes is shaped by three main factors, all in dialogue with local peoples: theform of mission organization; the degree to which local missions are in competitionwith other foreign actors; and time.

14 On the basis of these factors, one can draw several broad distinctions between the

typical organizational configurations of first and second phase Christian communities.This is a particularly fruitful approach in the case of first phase missions which, facinglittle or no competition in most areas from either rival missions or the colonialgovernment, had an especially profound influence on newly converted villages. Thereare intriguing possibilities for comparison here. Along the southern coast of Papua, forinstance, members of the London Missionary Society imparted Congregationalist idealsof independent, self-supporting congregations. Under the guidance of indigenouspastors, parishioners engaged in relatively egalitarian forms of worship, freelycontributing prayers and testimonials in lengthy church services (Ryan, 1969). In Mailu,and likely elsewhere along the coast, church councils were introduced made up of malerepresentatives of local clans, providing a nascent form of village government (Abbi1975). Congregationalism in effect bolstered a sense of the village (congregation) as adistinctive and autonomous political unit. Along the northeastern coast, by way ofcontrast, Anglican missionaries imparted a hierarchical conception of Christianworship and institutional order. Church services rigidly followed the Book of Common

Prayer, led by clergy and lay-preachers licensed by the bishop, allowing only limitedritualized responses from congregants. Uiaku and likely other villages along the coastevolved a dual organization, with the church and school both physically andconceptually perceived as the “station”, connected to European life and the Christiangod, surrounded by the “village”, associated with the world of custom, kinship andancestral spirits (Barker, 1990b, cf. Kahn, 1983). Consequently, the kind of fusionbetween church councils and village governance one finds on the south coast of Papuadid not happen in Uiaku.

15 While such variations were significant, first phase villages shared a key commonality

that sets them apart from most second phase communities. Over time as the churchbecame a familiar fixture of local life, it provided people with a new centre of identity,focused upon the village rather than kin groups (Abbi, 1975, Barker, 1996). Churchfestivals, marked by feasting and the giving of gifts to support the work of the missions,in many places supplanted kin-based exchanges sponsored by big men (Eriksen, 2008,Gregory, 1980, Hermkens, 2007a). New forms of village-wide voluntary associationscame into being: church councils, youth and women's groups, and cooperativemovements. Across much of insular and lowlands Melanesia, Christianity became anessential part of an emerging ethnic identity, along with idealizations of governmentand custom (Barker, 2007b, Dundon, 2002, Foster, 1995a, Neumann, 1992, Smith, 1994).These tendencies were increasingly pronounced the longer a mission enjoyed amonopoly in its own area of influence. In effect, Christianity became stronglyassociated, and in places conflated, with local ethnic and political identities (White,1991).

16 Far less is known about second phase situations, but the studies that exist suggest a

very different configuration. Converts take their Christian identities seriously, perhapsmore seriously than in typical first phase villages. Yet they are less centered upon anotion of a shared community of believers. Much of this can be accounted for in terms


56

of the changed circumstances marking the entries of missions into unevangelized areasin the 1950s and 1960s when they began to face real competition, not just from eachother but from the government which increasingly assumed control over educationand health services. People thus had choice as to which church to affiliate with, if any,and could debate different paths to “modernity” (Jebens, 2005). The village church lostmuch of its symbolic potency as a symbol of community unity. It is perhaps telling thatwhereas church festivals provide the main occasions for traditional dancing among theMaisin and the Tolai, second phase Gebusi converts participate in governmentsponsored sing-sings (Knauft, 2002). As rival missions gained adherents and becameestablished under the leadership of local evangelists, villages often split intoconstellations centered on different churches. This may in turn have fostered a moreother-worldly attitude in which adherence to one or another church is tied to largermillenarian and apocalyptic narratives. According to Jebens (2005), Pairundu villagersin the Southern Highlands incorporate rival sects into a common narrative of“pathways to heaven”, understood broadly as the road to a new world of equality withEuropeans (cf. Chowning, 1990). The shift of membership between different factors thusprovides a rough measure of popular perception of the bigger “story” (Jebens, 2000).

17 If the contrast I'm making holds, one would expect communities converted in the first

and the second phases of missionization to respond rather differently to third phaseevangelists. For first phase villages, the arrival of competition is likely to be perceivedas a challenge, not just to faith but more directly to community unity, and eitherresisted or encompassed. Second phase villages are more likely to be receptive to thenewcomers, whose teaching adds to the diversity of possible pathways to salvation.

18 Let me use the Maisin of Collingwood Bay in Papua New Guinea as an example of a first

phase response (Barker, 2008a). First some background: Because of the longestablishment of the Anglican mission, the Maisin had early access to secondary schooleducation following the Second World War and consequently entry into theprofessional classes during the period of decolonization and early independence ofPapua New Guinea. In the early 1980s, nearly an entire generation of young peoplefrom the largest village of Uiaku was away being schooled or employed, mostly inurban areas. Anglicanism maintained its local monopoly until the early 1990s whenmigrants began to return from the towns. While in town, some had joined the Jehovah'sWitnesses, the Seventh-Day Adventist Church (SDA), and the Christian Revival Crusade,a Pentecostal organization. When they returned to the villages, the converts heldworship services in their own homes, in two cases building small chapels. ThePentecostals in particular made known their objection to Anglican worship—whichthey criticized as empty ritual—and even more so to the easy mixture of Anglican andindigenous practices in death ceremonies and other occasions.

19 The initial reaction was fierce. The Pentecostal chapel was burned down. It was clear

from my discussions with villagers after this event that the objections had less to dowith theological differences than the fear that community solidarity would be broken(cf. Wakefield, 2001). The effort, therefore, was to marginalize if not drive out the newfactions. This had mixed results. The Pentecostals rebuilt their chapel but as of June2007 had lost some of their membership while the SDA faction had grown slightly. Atthe same time, the overriding concern with community solidarity encouraged someinteresting compromises on both sides. While Anglican church services remain asrigidly controlled by the clergy as ever, Maisin youth eagerly embraced a fellowship


57

movement endorsed by the Church that encourages testimonials and lively gospelsinging and which includes some charismatic elements such as the laying on of handsfor healing (Barker, 2003, 2007a). For their part, some of the converts to the rival sectshave returned to the Anglican fold while most of the others participate in churchfestivals and other community events, although not in traditional dress. I wasfascinated in 2000, when leading a delegation of Canadian Aboriginal people to visitwith the Maisin, when an SDA member voluntarily took on the role of tour guide,explaining to them the importance of several customary Maisin practices and rituals.While he himself refused to participate, he clearly took great pride in these “pagan”symbols of Maisin identity.

20 Third phase evangelists are far less likely to encounter such forms of resistance and

compromise in second phase situations where community solidarity around a singlechurch does not exist. The chances for recruitment are also greater, especially if thereis already a history of people shifting their allegiance between rival sects. To the degreethat Christianity is separated from the issue of political solidarity, people are morelikely to focus upon the exciting messages of the newcomers which often as notproclaim the possibility of material prosperity through faith, spiritual gifts of healing,the urgency of spiritual warfare against Satan and his minions, rumours of the evildeeds of the Anti-Christ and the coming Apocalypse (Kocher-Schmid, 1999).

21 The Orokaiva area of central Oro Province in Papua New Guinea has long provided a

stage for this kind of thing, much to the frustration of the Anglican Church which has astrong physical presence but since the 1950s mixed success in winning the hearts andminds of the people. A few months prior to the massive floods that destroyed manyvillages in the area in November 2007, news emerged of a new Christian “cargo cult”reputedly led by a retired Anglican nun and George Ambo, the first Papuan to beordained a bishop in the Anglican Church and its former Archbishop. 5 The PentecostalChristian Revival Crusade has long enjoyed a warm reception in Orokaiva villages (Barr,1983). Pastors set up congregations but they enjoy considerable independence and thusshifting allegiances. Congregants appear to move frequently back and forth betweenthe Anglicans and the new sects. All the same, the influence of the third phaseevangelists cannot be denied. During the elections of 2007, the winning candidate forgovernment of Oro (out of a slate of 62!) was a Pentecostal pastor well regarded in theregion as a member of a gospel stringband and for raising the dead.

22 The sketch I've provided here can only be suggestive. Yet I would argue that it is a

reasonable hypothesis, one that fits well with what we have learned so far aboutMelanesian Christianity. Here is another piece of suggestive evidence. Consider the ageold question of why cargo cults appear regularly in some areas of Melanesia and notothers. In a fascinating comparative study, Jebens documents the differing reactions ofthe Pairundu of the Southern Highlands and the Koimumu of East New Britain tostories of the impending End Times circulating across the region immediately prior tothe year 2000. Whereas the Pairundu were electrified by fear and anticipation, theKoimumu reacted with calm indifference. Why the difference? Jebens speculates, “Oneanswer might be provided by correlations between Christian millenarianism andcultural elements that were already present before the advent of the first missionaries”(Jebens, 2000: 186). This is obviously a strong possibility. Yet it cannot be the wholestory, because word of the pending end times came to communities that had alreadyembraced Christianity. Koimumu appears to have responded with the typical caution of


58

first phase Christians while second phase Pairundu villagers, long accustomed tosectarian competition, were far more open to the possibility of rupture. 6

Beyond the Village

23 The anthropological reflex is to think of Melanesians in terms of cultural or “tribal”

identities, singular and locally grounded. But identity in Melanesia has always been awork in progress, with multiple possibilities formed through kin and exchangenetworks, warfare and alliances. Christianity and colonialism expanded range ofidentities accessible to Melanesians by introducing new regional networks and, alongwith them, novel ways of identifying with others—particularly distant others. Thespread of third phase evangelism has been facilitated by the existence of these priornetworks and associations, some with histories reaching back more than a century. Justas established forms of Christian belief and practice have conditioned the reception ofthird phase evangelism, regional networks created by previous missionary efforts havefacilitated the spread of new ideas and forms of worship. Thus if the Anthropology ofChristianity is to be truly inclusive, it needs not only better ethnographies of ruralcommunities but studies focused upon regional associations and networks.

24 Because the early missions relied so heavily upon the support of converts to head local

churches and schools and to expand their reach into new territories, Melanesians wereincorporated into mission networks very quickly. Usually poorly paid and largelydependent upon the gifts of their congregations, not least the captive labour of schoolchildren, the emerging pastorate nevertheless formed a small elite core by virtue oftheir association with white missionaries. Their sons received better education thanmost as well as the likelihood of becoming teachers or pastors themselves (Oram, 1971);and their wives and daughters received advanced training in the domestic arts befittingthe expectations of Christian feminine domesticity (Douglas, 1999, Jolly, 1991). Further,they gained stature as members of a network above and beyond their local villages—identities further consolidated in those missions whose policies prevented indigenousstaffs from working in their birth communities. A significant portion of the emergentmiddle class in the late colonial and early independence period came from thisbackground (Latukefu, 1981).

25 The first and second phase missions were rural in their focus. By this I mean something

more than the fact that they took Christianity to people where they lived. A largesegment of the white staffs came from farms in their home countries while all of thelarge Polynesian and Melanesian staffs were themselves gardeners; indeed, as Latukefu(1978) has documented, Islander missionaries created much good will with local peopleby introducing crop varieties and techniques from their home societies. Beyond this,many European missionaries conceived of their task in rural terms, as resistance to the“evils” of the rapid industrialization and migration to the cities happening in theirhome countries. Thus Methodist leaders dreamed of creating independent yeomanfarmers while Anglican bishops believed they saw in Papuan villages the image of amedieval English village with the priest paternally watching over the souls of his flock(Wetherell, 1977).

26 Churches were initially established in towns to serve the European population and the

small numbers of employed Melanesians. During the late colonial period, the mainlinechurches expanded their presence in the rapidly growing urban areas. Such churches


59

became quickly incorporated into wantok networks, allowing urban dwellers toregularly meet and worship with kin and others sharing a common ethnic background.

27 The orientation of third phase churches is very different. Most have started in urban

areas and maintain their largest influence there. Just as importantly, their forms oforganization and leadership emerge largely out of urban cultures in which ethnicmingling is the norm rather than the exception. Many of the new churches makeconsiderable demands on their members, including tithing and the assumption ofvarious prohibitions that collectively serve to diminish their connections to membersto their natal communities while tightening their identity on their church. Pentecostaland fundamentalist churches as further associated with global networks, elements ofwhich seem to be everywhere and nowhere: the prosperity gospel, televangelists, signsof the End Times, rumours of the anti-Christ, and so forth. The moral values of many ofthese churches appear as highly individualistic. One is tempted to say, along with Ernst(1994: 285) that “There is nothing Pacific, local, or contextual in this” and that thetheologies on offer have “nothing to offer for the variety of social, economic andpolitical problems in the present or future” (ibid.: 287).

28 As I argued in the Introduction to this paper, however, it is very risky to read the

complex and transient events of the present into the grand narrative of conversionfrom tradition to Christianity, as a one-way movement into a uniform globalmodernity. In point of fact, we know remarkably little about third phase missions. Onewould assume that the severe requirements and austere worship style of the Seventh-Day Adventist Church would appeal to a different segment of the urban populationthan a Pentecostal sect, but we actually don't know. We do not really know themotivations of people who attend a Benny Hinn rally at a Port Moresby stadium orregularly attend Pentecostal celebrations. Are they drawn in by the showmanship andthe exciting messages on an individual basis? Or is there a “silent” back-story in whichpeoples' existing kinship and exchange networks lead them in certain directions—from“roots to routes” (cf. Eriksen, 2008). What role does gender play in participation andleadership? How do people respond to, say, messages about “spiritual warfare” whichseem to form such an important part of contemporary Pentecostalism, particularly inurban areas, separated from the deeply rooted mythologies of the countryside(Jorgensen, 2005, Stritecky, 2001)? Are they simply imposing theologies andmythologies from elsewhere, or, in the hothouse environment of the cities, do theseimported theologies and mythologies become inflected by Melanesian values,orientations, and narratives? Finally, what role do these sects play in people'sadjustments to urban life and to movements between rural and urban centers? Do theyprovide people with a means—both practically and ideological—to escape socialobligations? Or do they reformulate those obligations in novel ways?

29 Meanwhile, it needs to be kept in mind that the majority of Melanesians continue to

belong to the established churches and those churches, in turn, are engaged in manyinitiatives in the urban areas and regionally. Strong charismatic movements havegrown within the churches in competitive response to Pentecostal sects. The churchesalso organize their own revivals and fellowship movements, incorporating populargospel tunes and evangelistic styles of public testimonials and preaching (Barker, 2003,2007a, Gewertz and Errington, 1997). Regional networks of youth and women's churchgroups have also emerged; these not only often have a significant presence in thevillages, but provide a means of bringing rural and urban-based members together on a


60

regular basis (Douglas, 2003a, Eriksen, 2008). Such networks, in turn, allow for the rapiddissemination of new religious ideas and movements, such as Marian devotionalmovements among Catholic women (Hermkens, 2007b, 2008).

30 Not surprisingly, much of the recent literature on religious change in Melanesia has

focused upon the steady loss of members from “mainline” to the newer, mostlyEvangelical churches (Ernst, 2006). From an anthropological perspective, perhaps amore interesting development has been the growth of choice in Christian affiliation,particularly in the towns but increasingly in rural areas. This development in turnbears a close semantic association with emergent regional formulations ofconsumerism, citizenship, individualism, and nationalism: in sum, the development ofa sense pan-Melanesian sense of identity in a globalized world, an identity in whichChristianity clearly forms a central element (Foster, 2002, Latukefu, 1988).

Other Contexts, other Views

31 By this point, it should be clear that much of the reality of Christianity in Melanesia is

not accessible through ethnographic research. This may seem obvious but it is stillcrucial. There is a tendency in anthropology, as in other disciplines, to becomemyopically focused on internal issues and overly rely upon established traditions ofresearch. Thus as I read current writing by anthropologists on issues like continuityand change, the implications of conversion on notions of the person and morality, andso forth, I'm struck by how insular the discussions often appear to be. 7 Anthropologistsare late comers to the study of Christianity, possibly the most written-about religion onthe face of the earth. Perhaps we can learn something from other longer-establishedperspectives and approaches? The sheer complexity of Christianity as a two thousandyear old religious tradition spanning the globe should require us to temper ourarguments—overwhelmingly based upon highly localized case studies—with widerinsights derived from theological (foreign and indigenous), historical, political andsociological research.

32 I retain a memory of a scene from James Michener's Hawaii, read long ago, in which the

“good” missionary doctor, who provides a foil for the vile Abner Hale, protests thedestructive actions of one of the white invaders of the islands with the observation thatmissionaries are not without weapons: they write. And write they did: filling thearchives that today provide the foundation for historical and much anthropologicalwork on Christianity in Melanesia and elsewhere. What few anthropologists seem torealize is that they and their successors continue to write. Some are more visible,publishing ethnographic pieces in journals like Anthropos. Most write for smallcirculation regional journals or produce theses in local seminaries. Their work oftendeals with topics of key concern to anthropologists, although inflected with theologicalperspectives. The publications of the Melanesian Institute in Goroka have beenparticularly important, often identifying trends in the region long beforeanthropologists take notice—such as the politicization of Christianity or the responseof the churches to the HIV/AIDS and environmental crises. They struggle to make senseof many of the same developments as anthropologists, albeit from a differentperspective and with different motivations. Anthropologists, of course, do not need toaccept those points of view, but it is important to be aware that they exist. They can besurprising. For instance, third phase evangelicals in Canada and Australia, as in


61

Melanesia, are widely supposed to be firmly opposed to indigenous culture, particularritual forms and notions of spirits. Yet in both countries, seminaries and programs attheological colleges can be easily found that foster the exploration of connectionsbetween religious traditions and Christianity as a positive good. Similar surprises mayawait us if we open our eyes to the possibility in Melanesia.

33 As for the wider contexts, a comparison to African studies is informative. In sub-

Saharan Africa, historical and sociological research on missions and Christianitypreceded anthropological work by many years. Scholarship on the public and politicalroles of religion is particularly well-developed (e.g., Gifford, 1998). As a result, the bestwork coming from the pens of anthropologists like Jean and John Comaroff, MatthewEngelke, and Brigit Meyer is informed by a rich diversity of approaches and thusinterdisciplinary in nature. Melanesia is highly unusual in the degree to whichanthropology dominates social and cultural studies. Historical studies, not least ofreligion, are far less developed than elsewhere and political and sociological studies ofChristianity virtually non-existent. The work by Manfred Ernst (1994, 2006) and hiscolleagues is enormously important in providing the only contemporary surveys wehave of the actual Christian organizations working in the region. Unfortunately, theyare published by regional presses, not well-publicized, and hard to obtain.

34 Attention is beginning to be paid to wider contexts, although most of this work comes

from the pens of anthropologists. Much is based upon local case studies, collated toproduce a picture of wider situations. The work on HIV/AIDS is particularly important,revealing much about the ways in which local responses to the pandemic have beeninfluenced and channel through the churches and Christianity ideologies (Butt andEves, 2008). New research on the roles of women's church groups or of churchinterventions to curtail youth violence is also promising (Dinnen, 2001, Douglas, 2003b,Hermkens, 2007c). There is a critical need, however, to study Christianity at thenational and regional levels—particularly the politics of Christianity (Barker, 2010, Eves,2008). The fact that many prominent Melanesian politicians have been clergy or comefrom clergy families has long been noted. What has received far less attention is theprominence of Christianity in the national culture—in the form of popular media and inpolitics. As far as I'm aware, no secular bookstores exist today in Papua New Guinea andgospel music and services now fill the airwaves. I was struck on my last visit in June2007 by the prominence of Christian references in campaign posters for the nationalelection. The pioneering work by Philip Gibbs (2004) and Nancy Sullivan (2007)—bothPNG based anthropologists—suggest that political careers, get rich schemes,millenarianism, and militant Christianity are forming a powerful synthesis in thecentre of political life. Much of their evidence is culled from newspapers or anecdotal.As Jorgensen (2005) shows in an important paper, evangelical campaigns organizedfrom Port Moresby, often with the explicit blessing of politicians, are reaching intoeven the most remote areas of the country. It is, however, very difficult in the absenceof direct study to trace the links. There is also a danger in focusing upon the mostextreme expressions of revivalist Christianity to neglect the fact that the mainlinechurches—which still include the large majority of Melanesians as members—are alsoresponding to current crises in political ways. The Roman Catholic Church, forinstance, has been involved in interventions meant to protect local land rights againststate-supported development projects.


62

35 In sum, while anthropologists have much to contribute to our understanding of the

current state of Christianity including the phenomenon of secondary conversion, weneed to get other students trained in other disciplines interested as well. The study ofChristianity necessarily requires a multiple of perspectives and approaches.

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NOTES

1. Exceptions include Schieffelin (2002), Tuzin (1997), and Williams (1944).

2. Given the nature of this critique, most of the items I reference in this article are written by

anthropologists who, in any case, dominate the field. I have, however, freely referred to works by

historians, theologians, and religious studies specialists where relevant.

3. Notably, Roman Catholic missionary orders refused to participate in such comity agreements,

as did a few small Protestant groups such as the South Sea Evangelical Mission in the Solomon

Islands. While moments of competition and conflict sometimes flared, however, even these

missions in practice tended to carve out their own areas of operation. Consequently, when

members of communities converted during this period it was almost always to the same

denomination, setting up the conditions for identification between whole villages and specific

churches.

4. These are international missionary organizations that promote Christianity without an

affiliation to a specific church (Ernst, 1994: 14). Some are involved directly in church-building ;

others engage in proselytizing through the media and/or large public “crusades”; whereas others

provide services such as Bible translation or air transport.

5. On his death bed a year later, Bishop Ambo repudiated the movement claiming some of his

followers had misrepresented his intentions, which had been to reach out to former Anglicans

and return them to the motherchurch. See http://asopa.typepad.com/asopa_people/2009/02/the-

strange-story-of-bishop-sir-george-ambo.html

6. My research among the Maisin reinforces this conclusion. While villagers had heard the

rumours of pending End Times by the late 1990s, outside of the tiny group of Pentecostals most

reacted with skepticism, cautious at first but rising to derision after the clock ticked over into

2000 without mishap (cf. Bashkow, 2000).

7. The outstanding, and rather depressing, example of this is Mosko (2010). Applying a kind of

reverse inculturation argument, Mosko claims that Melanesian culture and Christianity both rest

upon identical principles of “dividual” personhood as formulated in Strathern's influential, The

Gender of the Gift (1988). Rather than exploring the implications of his hypothesis, however, he

relies upon a purely rhetorical strategy of recasting a range of rather ordinary Christian

practices and statements as forms of reciprocal exchange which he takes a de facto proof of

partible dividuality. The analysis ignores historical and social contexts and all but the most

superficial characteristics that define such practices and ideas as Christian. In effect, Christianity

is rendered subservient to the defense of a rarified model of personhood and consequently all but

disappears (Barker, 2010). Despite strained logic and sloppy scholarship, the article garnered the

Curl Prize for the year's best essay in one of anthropology's most prestigious journals.

ABSTRACTS

Anthropologists have in recent years turned their attention to Christianity in Melanesia. Much of

this new work treats Melanesian Christianity in terms of the confrontation between indigenous

“tradition” and global “modernity”. However useful for long-term analysis, such dualistic

framing distorts our understanding of the present, which is instead characterized by growing

sectarianism and secondary conversions. I call for three changes in the ways anthropologists

typically approach contemporary Melanesian Christianity. First, we need to understand


68

secondary conversion primarily in historical terms, as a shift from localized forms of Christianity

to newly introduced ones. Second, more attention needs to be paid to the lively forms of

Christianity emerging in urban areas. Finally, I suggest that the domination of anthropology in

the social science of Melanesia creates its own distorting lens and other disciplinary viewpoints

should be encouraged and incorporated.

Ces dernières années, les anthropologues ont tourné leur attention vers le christianisme en

Mélanésie. Beaucoup de ces nouvelles recherches traitent du christianisme mélanésien en termes

de confrontation entre la « tradition » indigène et la « modernité » mondiale. Bien qu'elle soit

utile pour les analyses de long terme, cette approche dualiste fausse notre interprétation du

présent, qui se caractérise en fait par la montée du sectarisme et des conversions secondaires. Je

propose trois changements dans la manière dont les anthropologues abordent typiquement le

sujet du christianisme contemporain en Mélanésie. D'abord, il faut concevoir la conversion

secondaire avant tout en termes historiques, comme une transition des formes localisées du

christianisme vers celles qui ont été introduites plus récemment. Ensuite, on doit accorder

davantage d'attention aux pratiques chrétiennes qui émergent dans les zones urbaines. Enfin, je

suggère que la domination de l'anthropologie au sein des sciences sociales en Mélanésie crée son

propre effet de distorsion optique, et que d'autres points de vue disciplinaires devraient être

encouragés et associés.

Durante los últimos años, los antropólogos se interesaron en el cristianismo en Melanesia.

Muchas de estas nuevas investigaciones abordan el cristianismo melanesio en términos de

confrontación entre la “tradición” indígena y la “modernidad” mundial. Aunque sea útil para los

análisis a largo plazo, este abordaje dualista falsea nuestra interpretación del presente, que se

caracteriza de hecho por el crecimiento del sectarismo y de las conversiones secundarias.

Propongo tres transformaciones en la manera a través de la que los antropólogos abordan

típicamente el tema del cristianismo contemporáneo en Melanesia. En primer término, hay que

concebir la conversión secundaria antes que nada en términos históricos, como una transición de

las formas localizadas del cristianismo hacia aquellas que han sido introducidas más

recientemente. En segundo lugar, se debe otorgar más atención a las prácticas cristianas que

emergen en las zonas urbanas. Finalmente, sugiero que la dominación de la antropología sobre

las ciencias sociales en Melanesia crea su propio efecto de distorsión óptica, y que otros puntos

de vista disciplinarios deberían ser incentivados y asociados.

INDEX

Palabras claves: cristianismo, conversión, Melanesia, religión y política, pentecostalismo

Mots-clés: christianisme, conversion, Mélanésie, religion et politique, pentecôtisme

Keywords: Christianity, conversion, Melanesia, religion and politics, Pentecostalism

AUTHOR

JOHN BARKER

University of British Columbia, [email protected]


69


Burying the Past—Healing the Land:Ritualising Reconciliation in FijiEnterrer le passé – Guérir la terre : la ritualisation de la réconciliation à Fidji

Enterrar el pasado, curar la tierra: la ritualización de la reconciliación en Fidji

Jacqueline Ryle

The Tabua: Conveyor of Death and Atonement

1 In the Fiji Museum's permanent exhibition “Mission” there is a glass cabinet with an

old tabua (whale's tooth), yellowed and darkened with age, and the magimagi (plaitedpandanus string) it was presented with. An exhibit note states: “Tabua presented bychief's [sic] and people of Navuso to the Methodist Church early this century, to atonefor their responsibility for the murders of Thomas Baker and his followers.” Anotherexhibit note, The Thomas Baker Tragedy, explains what happened:

In 1867 Rev. Thomas Baker, a Fijian Minister Setareki Seileka and six out of eightFijian student teachers from Davuilevu were hacked to death and eaten atNubutautau in Central Vitilevu. While the murders of Fijian mission teachers in Fijiwere not uncommon at that time, the murder of a European missionary was unique,Mr Baker being the only Methodist Missionary to be killed by followers of Fijianreligion. He and his followers were not slain because they were Christians, butbecause the Navatusila Chief—A Christian Chief who felt slighted when Bakerdecided to hold a meeting at Lomanikoro instead of Navuso, and who had sent aTabua into the mountains requesting the missionary's murder. The Baker partythus perished at the hands of pagan Fijians on the request of a Christian convert.The European Missionaries in Fiji, while they were often reviled and threatened inthe early decades at the mission, seem to have been largely immune from directattack, but the same was not true of their Fijian converts, many of whom werekilled by followers of Fijian religion, particularly after Christianity began to take ahold, and to threaten the authority of chiefs and priests.

2 Next to the tabua in the cabinet is a colour group photograph with a note that reads,

“Revd. Thomas Baker's Great Grandniece Lynn Flaherty and her immediate family atNubutautau, Navosa on November 13th 2003, during the Forgiveness Ceremony.” So a


70

tabua was the conveyor of Baker's death, and other tabua were conveyors of subsequentritual atonements for the deed.

3 This article discusses the high-profile, widely and internationally publicised traditional

reconciliation ceremony staged in the interior of Fiji's main island of Vitilevu inNovember 2003. The article is concerned with the ritual and symbolic importance ofthe event and people's faith and beliefs in relation to it. It discusses the centrality ofpeople's sense of identity as belonging to the Land of their clan and forefathers.

4 Mainstream Christians in Fiji may have a strong Christian faith yet at the same time

honour and believe in ancestral spiritual power as an intrinsic part of their identity.Yahweh is God and paramount but this does not discount the presence and efficacy ofancestral spirits. From this perspective disordered social relations, crime and infertilityof the land are seen as emanating from disordered relations with ancestral spirits andvanua, to be reconciled through traditional rituals of transformation and healing. ToFijian Pentecostal Christians such problems are considered the result of spiritualbondage by demonic forces—to be exorcised through Pentecostal rituals oftransformation and healing.

5 The article describes how these quite different perspectives see human agency as

reflected in the state of the land and in people's social relations, past and present. Itdiscusses how human agency is seen to spiritually disturb or reconcile the land, itsinnate ancestral powers and their influence on people's relations and the land. Itdiscusses how the efficacy of ancestral spirituality of the land may affect change,punishing or rewarding people's actions. And it discusses how the redeeming power ofthe Holy Spirit can bring about change through exorcising the land of ancestralspiritual power, cleansing and un-blocking what Pentecostal Christians describe asdemonic spiritual strongholds.

Belonging to the Land

6 People in Fiji are bound to one another through vanua. Vanua means many things—

land, place, clan, people, tradition and country. To talk of vanua is to talk not only ofland in its material form, but land as Place of Being, as Place of Belonging, as spiritualquality. Vanua is both land and sea, the soil, plants, trees, rocks, rivers, reefs; the birds,beasts, fish, gods and spirits that inhabit these places and the people who belong there,bound to one another and to the land as guardians of this God-given world. Vanua is arelational concept that encompasses all this, paths of relationship, nurture and mutualobligations connecting place and people with the past, the present and the future.

7 People are always and at all times connected to one another through their belonging to

a particular clan that has historical, social, cultural and spiritual ties to a particularplace, a particular part of the land. Whatever a person does will reflect on all the othermembers of the clan in the present as well as the future, just as the actions of deceasedclan members still reflect on the clan as a whole today. Crime, sin and disorder or“brokenness” in any part of the clan or by any clan member at any time thereforereflects on the whole.

8 In discussing the “sacredness” of soil, Matt Tomlinson (2002: 246) writes of how soil was

considered by a Methodist minister on the island of Kadavu to be “bibi (‘heavy’,connoting ‘important’) because the elders are buried in it”. Essentially, the soil contains


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ancestral spirituality and is therefore potentially dangerous. On the other hand, itconnects people of the present to the intrinsic strength of kinship relations and thus tothe power of the ancestors.

9 This sense of “heaviness” can therefore be viewed positively as well as negatively,

depending on a person's Christian beliefs, i.e. whether being Christian entails negatingthat which is pre-Christian as being of the devil, or viewing one's ancestral connectionsas being an important element of one's identity in the present. Another man, drawingalso on imagery from Genesis, gave another explanation of why soil was considered tohave special significance in Fiji:

First, God built Adam from soil. Second, ancestors fought over it. (This seems to beboth a reflection and a cause of soil's importance). Third, he explained, the earthwas created before everything else, according to the Bible's story of creation: beforewater, before animals, before humankind, land was brought into being. (Tomlinson2002: 246-247)

10 Tomlinson (2002: 247) points out that “linguistically, the sense that the land is seen to

act upon people—that land is an agent which can affect humans, that land is mana—isexpressed in certain phrases”.

11 If relations among the people or between different vanua are in a state of disorder, so

too is the land in a state of disorder. Polluted or disordered relations between peopleare also a polluting of the land. Disordered social relations and disordered relations tothe land can effectuate kalouca (lit. evil spirit), sickness and death in a clan, insubsequent generations too, until the customary ritual of reconciliation has beenperformed and accepted. A healing of relations between people therefore involveshealing the land.

Burying the Past

12 The whale's tooth (tabua), Fijian anthropologist Asesela Ravuvu explains (1987: 23):

represents everything that is valuable and worthwhile in Fijian society. It embodieseverything that is chiefly in nature, including chiefly behaviour and social valuedchiefly qualities... [it] also possesses a mystical power that makes it much moresacred than any other object of ceremonial offering... the “whale's tooth” is potentand has mana or power to effect good or ill when offered and accepted... [causing]...the intrinsic value of a particular “whale's tooth” to vary according tocircumstances and the relative status of offerer and recipient.

13 There are three main terms in Standard Fijian for rituals or ceremonies of

reconciliation—isoro, matanigasau and ibulubulu—all of which share the same ritualstructure, involving the presentation of one or more tabua (whale's tooth) and othervaluables such as kava roots 1 and mats (sometimes meat, such as cow, and drums ofkerosene) by vanua representatives of the clan responsible for a crime, to clanrepresentatives of the victim.

14 The three terms are used interchangeably, as is notable in the different newspaper

reports of the Reverend Baker reconciliation and in my interviews with those involved.However, in general Fijian perceptions of reconciliation derive from the term ibulubulu

which means burial, grave, that which covers it; that which is under the earth.Ibulubulu comes from the word bulu which means to cover with earth, to bury, and Buluwas also the pre-Christian name for the underworld of death (cf. Williams [1858] 1985:243). When used in relation to forgiveness and reconciliation, figuratively speaking,


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bulubulu means to bury an injury. The offering of a tabua as a token of peace is thenalso ibulubulu (Capell 1991: 19 & 17).

15 “People talk of ‘bulu kina na ca’—evil being buried by it (the tabua)” (Geraghty 2006,

pers comm). Implicit in this is the common understanding that once the appropriateritual of reconciliation has taken place between clan representatives of perpetrator andthe victim, grievances are considered buried, laid to rest—forgotten (a term frequentlyused).

The Blessings of the Land

If my people... humble themselves and... turn from their wicked ways, then I willhear them from Heaven, will forgive their sins, and will heal their land. (2Chronicles 7: 14)

16 The November 2003 reconciliation ceremony in the area where Thomas Baker was

killed in 1867 was a widely and internationally publicised traditional ritual ofreconciliation, with reports reaching Australian, New Zealand, Canadian, European—even Vietnamese—newspapers, and with coverage on Australian TV. Elevendescendents of Thomas Baker were invited to Fiji to receive, together with descendantsof Baker's Fijian assistants who were killed with him, the ritual apologies of the peopleof Navatusila.

17 In anticipation of the ceremony FijiSun newspaper, the paper that reported most

extensively on this event, noted in a Comment entitled “Lifting the curse”:

November 13 will be a day of liberation for the whole vanua of Navatusila in Navosa.This will be the day when they converge at Nubutautau to traditionally apologise tothe families of Reverend Thomas Baker and eight other [Fijian] families [whoseancestors] were killed and eaten by their ancestors, 136 years ago. From the dayReverend Baker and his missionaries were killed, the vanua of Navatusila has beenunder a curse (FijiSun 10/11/03: 4).

18 An Associated Press news bulletin from Australia noted somewhat dryly: “The

Australian descendants of a Christian missionary eaten by cannibals 136 years ago willtravel to Fiji this week, hoping to help lift a curse on the village where he was killed.Residents say they have had bad luck since Baker was consumed and they blame hisavenging spirit” (FijiSun 13/11/03: 10).

19 According to the Fiji Times (12/11/03: 3) some 200-300 guests attended the Baker

reconciliation ceremony. The seven villages involved had spent F$10.000 on“beautifying their settlements” (amongst other things installing new toilets andbathrooms to host the guests, including then Prime Minister Qarase) 2, and preparingfood and gifts for the reconciliation ceremony. The villagers had collected 10 cows,30 tabua (whales teeth) and fine mats to be presented to the Australian visitors, the twochiefly households and the descendants of the local missionaries (ibid.).

20 The ceremony started with a church service conducted by the ACCF, the Association of

Christian Churches in Fiji. The ACCF, a joint organisation of Pentecostal churches andthe Methodist Church in Fiji, came into being in 2001 as a response to the moral andspiritual disorder among Fijians brought about by the coup Fiji experienced in 2000(Kacimaiwai, interview 2004). Usurping the mandate of the Fiji Council of Churcheswhich includes the Catholic and Anglican churches, this increasingly influentialorganisation is comprised of almost all Protestant churches in Fiji, that is to say almost


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half the population. A particular focus of the ACCF is a Pentecostal healing of the landand exorcism of the ancestral spiritual power inherent in the land.

While the 2003 Baker reconciliation in outer form was a traditional Fijianreconciliation ceremony prior to the event ACCF pastors had been engaged inpreparing the people of this area beforehand, through Pentecostal prayer and ritualto confess their sins and reconcile with God, which would lead to healing the landand social relations.

21 After the church service the traditional ceremony took place, ending with a lavish

feast. The villagers sought forgiveness from the paramount chief of the province ofNaitasiri, Turaga Qaranivalu Ratu Inoke Takiveikata, the [chiefly] Mataiwelagihousehold of Bau and the relatives of the local missionaries who were killed with Baker(Fiji Times (12/11/03: 3).

22 The Sunday Post reporter noted that when the most important tabua had been presented

by the Tui (chief) of Navatusila, asking for forgiveness for the deeds of his forefathersand asking for his people to be released from the curse that they had been under since,

a prayer was said asking for the blessing of the land and its people from that dayonwards. The sunny day was... broken minutes later as dark clouds hovered aroundthe village, opening up for intermittent rain. The people of Navatusila took is as asign... that their apology had been accepted and acknowledged by the Almighty.They linked the events to a passage in the Bible, in the Old Testament [2 Chronicles7: 14]. (The Sunday Post 14/11/03: 13)

23 All three of the interwoven elements of what in Fiji is known as the Three Pillars

structure were in play in the reconciliation ceremony. The interweaving of vanua withChristianity (lotu) in Fiji is historically linked with a third entity, matanitu, which oncedenoted chiefly governance, developed into meaning colonial government and now,somewhat ambiguously and unclearly, relates to government and nation as well astraditional chiefly power. This tripartite structure, known as the Three Pillars,comprises the overarching ideology of Fijian society, around which village life centres,and which people in urban as well as rural contexts constantly refer to, and which isalso constantly referred to at national level and in the media.

24 Yet this is a predominantly Fiji Methodist religio-cultural ideal structure that came into

being during the colonial period (1874-1970). Contemporary interpretations of thisstructure converge in a highly volatile political issue prevalent in Fijian nationalistpolitics since 1987 and exacerbated during and since the coup in 2000: whether Fijishould constitutionally be declared a Christian state (cf. Ryle 2005; 2009; 2010: 53-63).

25 The vanua was present in the guise of the people and their chiefs; the Church was

present, and the Government was represented by amongst others then Prime MinisterQarase. Acording to The Daily Post the Prime Minister emphasised precisely theinterconnectedness of the Three Pillars, saying that the reconciliation ceremony“brought together the three solid foundations of Fiji society: the Church, Governmentand culture (vanua, lotu, matanitu) [sic]”. (The Daily Post 15/11/03: 5)

The Politics of Representing the Past

26 Because Reverend Baker was a “European” (i.e. white) missionary his killing (and the

killing of his Fijian assistants) by pagan Fijians—and the fact that he was subsequentlyalso cannibalised, as were his assistants—has been given considerably moreprominence, for example in being part of a permanent exhibition in the Fiji Museum,


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than the killing of Tongan missionaries by the people of Kaba, publicly atoned for in areconciliation ritual at the Methodist Church Conference in 2003 (cf. The Daily Post:28/8/03: 5).

27 In a letter to the editor of the Sunday Times shortly after the Baker reconciliation

ceremony Andrew Thornley, who has researched extensively into the history of theMethodist Church in Fiji, brought the Baker killing into the wider historical andpolitical context of Fiji mission history. Thornley has a very clear account in his latestbook of what happened to Baker—and why (Thornley 2002: 337-35). Thornley's pointwas that the people of Navatusila in 19th century Fiji saw Baker as connected withEastern Fiji chiefly power (as indeed the Methodist mission was) and understandablyfelt threatened:

I was moved by pictures of Navosa people shown on Australian TV as they soughtforgiveness from the descendants of Thomas Baker, killed at Gagdelavatu with nineFijians in 1867. Considerable wealth in the form of traditional gifts was passed fromthe hands of villagers in their effort to remove what they felt to be more than100 years of ill luck. The humility of the Fijians was clearly evident, however, thewritten evidence of history demonstrates that, for their part, the descendents ofBaker just as much needed to seek forgiveness from the Navosa people. For ThomasBaker irresponsibly ignored advice, notably from knowledgeable Fijians, tocontinue his journey across Viti Levu in 1867. The people of the neighbouringdistrict of Dawarau warned Baker that [because of] the situation inland [it] was toodangerous to proceed. For a number of reasons, but partly because the advice camefrom traditional non-Christian sources, Baker chose to ignore the warnings. SoBaker came into Gagadelavatu, the chief town of Navosa, near the site of present-day Nabutautau, as an unwelcome visitor. He was seen as an agent of the Christianchief Seru Cakobau who had waged war and tried to conquer the interior [of VitiLevu]. The time was not rife for Baker to take nine Fijians into hostile territory.Baker knew the risk and he did not tell his wife where he was going, so unsure washe of the territory and the minds of the people.In view of these circumstances, which I have considerably summarized from mylonger account in the book Exodus of the i Taukei... the people of Navosa had littleoption but to view Baker's motives from a traditional and cultural point. Theperceived agents of Bau's influence had to be removed. Baker's death was, ofcourse, sad. More to the point, it could have been avoided if Baker had exercisedreasonable judgment. So the blame for the missionary's death does not only lie withthe people of Navosa. Forgiveness is needed from both sides (The Sunday Times23/11/03: 6).

28 Thornley's letter highlights how closely history, the past and the present, the local and

the global are linked in the ways in which the past is portrayed in the present. Theentanglement and use of the past in the present are evident in the examples given hereof people's desire to conduct traditional reconciliation rituals—and not least in theirstaging and performance, their perceived efficacy, and the responses they engendered.The fact that we can only access the past from the present, and the interweaving ofhistory, tradition, Christianity and politics in the different re-presentations of whathappened then and in “the present” (i.e. 1867 and 2003) are similarly evident in allexamples 3.

Reconciling Land and People

29 The traditional rituals of forgiveness and reconciliation described here are concerned

with the restoration of balanced reciprocal relations between people and between


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people and the land resonate with similar cosmological understandings in many othercultures and among peoples across the Pacific Island region and elsewhere in the world.People's need to maintain balanced relations with their ancestors and the spirit worldthrough observing particular rituals and rules of conduct to appease spirits, placatingthem through ritual sacrifices (or, as in this case, ritual presentations) remains, albeitchanging over time, interwoven in people's lives in syncretic religious belief (seeStrathern and Stewart 2004: 91). This is what Gary Trompf (1994 in ibid.: 93) terms as“the logic of retribution”. Strathern and Stewart capture the gist of this by relating it tothe popular term, “there is no such thing as a free lunch” (ibid.).

30 In Melanesia, Trompf (1991: 158) writes, “the dead are almost without exception

understood to continue their involvement with the living. Avengement is commonlythought to ‘exorcise’ a spirit of its inimical aspects, turning it into a supportive agent”.“Throughout most of Oceania... the helpful deceased are those who have received theproper funerary rites, while troublesome ghosts arise from those not properly disposedof or from those expected to carry their grievances beyond death” (Trompf 1995: 131).

31 Although Trompf is describing the reasoning behind avengement of wrongdoing as

being the means of transforming negative spiritual powers to positive, so central inMelanesian contexts, rites of reconciliation in Fiji seek to do the same. Brokennessbetween clans needs to be restored through rites of reconciliation that will heal socialrelations, relations with the spirit world and the land, i.e. reconciliation will bringnourishment and fertility to the social barrenness of human relations and the materialbarrenness of the land—and will transform the powers of the spirit world from“inimical” to “supportive”.

32 Bakker (1986: 200-202) notes (in relation to the disordering of clan relations on account

of elopement) that the concept of duka (dirt, pollution) in Fijian is equated withdisorder of social relations and savasava (clean, pure; cleansing, purification) with theirreconciliation and re-ordering through rituals of reconciliation.

33 So the reciprocal relations between different clans are linked to one another and kept

in balance through spiritual links to vanua. In any situation of vanua transgression thesubsequent presentation of a tabua from one clan to another simultaneously andimmediately clears not just individuals, but clan members, past, present and future—and heals the land.

34 Joseph Bush (2000) describes a dramatic ceremony of bulubulu at the Methodist Church

Conference in 1996, in which a village of 500 people publicly atoned for the sin of adeceased grandfather who had participated in the massacre of a white plantationowner and his family in 1873. The kalouca (evil) the village was experiencing on accountof this past act was described as a “contagious disease”, spreading throughout thecommunity. The presentation of a tabua, “a symbol of confession, deeper than words”,is the key to unlocking and freeing relations. Its very acceptance means that the sin ormisdeed is immediately cleared, the words “sereki galala!” (freedom is loosed!) beingcalled out. Bush, inspired by former Methodist Church President Dr Ilaitia SevatiTuwere's writing on the links between Fijian tradition and Christian theology (cf.

Tuwere 2002), relates the traditional bulubulu to Christian notions of sin and salvation:

[Ibulubulu illustrates] the communal nature of sin and salvation... a rite ofconfession and pardon... nearly sacramental in character... Bulubulu literally meansthe “burial” of the sin that has been troubling the people... Tuwere sees all sin ashaving to do with relationship (veiwekani)... brokenness in relationship in one area


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is thought to reverberate throughout the whole network of relatedness. It is...“contagious”. Sin will always be manifest in broken relationship, and salvation willalways find expression through well-being in the community (Bush 2000: 31-32).

“The sins of our forefathers will be punished to thethird and fourth generations”

35 The Old Testament image of a vengeful God who punishes those who disobey him

corresponds to the powers attributed to pre-Christian pagan gods and spirits in Fiji. Heis seen to protect, punish and oversee all that happens in this world as well as the spiritworld (Ravuvu 1983: 98). From an Old Testament perspective actions count, not only atthe time they happen, but also in subsequent generations. Unless a sin has beenconfessed and atoned for echoes of the sin will be passed down in different forms fromgeneration to generation.

36 This corresponds with traditional Fijian understandings and Pentecostal doctrine on

reconciliation and forgiveness. Reverend Kacimaiwai, one of the ACCF pastors involvedin counseling and spiritually preparing the villagers of Navatusila for the reconciliationceremony, explained:

So we really need to go down to the root of it, get biblically taught on... what wehave to do: corporate repentance, the chiefs and the families getting together,confessing 4... Identifying our sins, through prayer, fasting for three weeks... untilthe vanua was ready to ask for forgiveness. Because it takes humility [to] ask [for]forgiveness, don't you think so?... we have to remember too... they were kind ofproud of doing it... Not only did they kill him... they ate him. To talk about it... it'ssuddenly gone into their spirit and in their heart... we are... correcting the... pastwrongs, before we... move forward. You can't ignore this and then move forward(Kacimaiwai, interview 1/11/04).

37 But why hadn't the former two bulubulu performed to the Methodist Church taken

away the curse in Navatusila? Why, I asked Reverend Suliasi Kurulo from ChristianMission Fellowship, a leading member of the ACCF and one of the main organisers ofthe 2003 bulubulu, was it necessary to do it all again?

Because a lot of the forgiveness that had taken place was just at horizontal level,not the vertical... we helped them with the vertical, so they have to come to God...to ask forgiveness to God on behalf of their forefathers for what they [did] towardsthe man of God... [You] see some of the curses that we inherited... that the Bibletalks about... the iniquities of our forefathers [can] visit the... third and fourthgenerations. [What was done] was [not done to the Methodist Church, it was] doneto Thomas Baker, he was a man of God. So first of all they need to come and askforgiveness of God (Kurulo, interview 28/9/04).

38 As other villages or clans, whose ancestors committed significant crimes in the past,

Navatusila people experienced kalouca (bad luck/evil) and problems with many aspectsof their daily lives:

Everything that they planted was not bearing fruit. The children were not reallygoing ahead in education ... This is what they have analysed, regarding their familytree, and regarding the land. So that really makes them really to search. They havea time of prayer, fasting and prayer, asking forgiveness, they ask forgiveness [from]God. First of all they receive Christ into their hearts, and then they ask God'sforgiveness just for them personally, and then they come as a community to askGod's forgiveness for what they have done... it was Baker and the family that wasmostly affected. So we have to bring in Baker's family descendants... this was the


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fourth generation of the Baker family!... This is what the Bible talks about. So now...the road is [being constructed] and they [have started] to plant; things areflourishing, and they see the release in their own lives. Also they see the impact ofwhat happened (ibid. 5).

Breaking the Spiritual Stronghold

39 Reverend Kurulo refers in the first quote to the “horizontal level” of forgiveness, which

I take to mean traditional presentations such as whale's teeth and kava roots offeredduring a bulubulu, focused on restoring the communal balance of relationship at vanua

level. This level includes the ancestral spirits, yet also involves God, Yahweh, as creatorof vanua. An important element of the traditional rites of ibulubulu or isoro is that theagency involved is ritually formalised between particular spokesmen (mata ni vanua) onbehalf of the group or on behalf of the injured parties, who may be individuals. In theserituals it is the restoration of relations between two groups, rather than the restorationof relations between individuals, that is important.

40 The Pentecostal prayers of cleansing and repentance described here are concerned

with reconciliation, yet they differ from traditional Fijian rituals of reconciliation, theirfocus primarily being on the vertical level, the level of the individual's relationship withGod. The main focus is on individual spiritual agency through the releasing power ofthe Holy Spirit.

41 In dedicating one's life to Christ and being baptised in the Holy Spirit one achieves a

personal relationship with Christ. Steps towards this are taken through theidentification of past sins, repentance, individual fasting and abstinence, and seekingGod's forgiveness. It is this reconciliation with God that will affect reconciliation andthe restoration of healthy moral and social relations in the community. Reverend PoateMata, Gospel Apostolic Outreach Church, described the deterioration of relations in thearea:

It went to a stage in Nataleira, if one of your relatives dies, even your own sister oryour own brother wouldn't come to the funeral. That now is un-Fijian... So for us toidentify the root we've got to seek God's wisdom, and God's divine intervention,because he knows we don't see the root, we see the fruits... The root is spiritual. Sothese people here were planting marijuana... why?... Because that's their onlymeans of income, marijuana... according to them. But for the past ten years... thepolice, the village elders, they tried to encourage the people not to plant or sell orbuy marijuana. They did no such thing. The police had been up there, but theycould not identify [a] single marijuana [plant] in this particular village, until ACCFwent in there and approached the problem from a spiritual point of view... We wentand we fasted and we prayed (Mata, interview 9/11/04).

42 From a Pentecostal perspective there is a “spiritual stronghold” of evil binding these

people to the sins of the past, causing them to commit sins in the present. The root ofthe problem is spiritual and can therefore only be solved through spiritual action. Eachindividual Christian, first and foremost, the individual body as vehicle for spiritualcleansing through fasting, abstinence, suffering and prayer, rather than the communal,social clan body as in rites of the vanua, is central to this. And in order to undertakethis, the individual has to make a conscious, personal decision, again unlike in vanua

rites, and has to have the will to see it through:

The only way to break through [a] spiritual strong hold [is that] you should prayand fast, or fast and pray... that has been the strategy wherever the committee on


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healing the land, whatever they move into then its necessary we must cometogether and.... the Lord shall renew their strength. So when you fast you areabsconding from food, physical food and you want to feed your spirit with thespiritual food, the word of God. Okay, so you pray and you fast. You are seeking forGod's intervention in your life, wisdom, strength, power, direction. You are tellingGod, I am going through something I can no longer handle, please I need yourdivine intervention, so I'll be fasting in front of you, I am sorry for all my sins, I amtormenting [my] flesh so that my spirit will grow. That's a very simple explanationof fasting... And that's what they did so they came together. It's easy... boom! Downcame the power! And that saw the break-through in there (Mata, interview9/11/04).

43 In November 2004, a year after the ceremony of forgiveness and reconciliation in

Navatusila, the highly successful Pentecostal church Christian Mission Fellowship'smonthly magazine, The Harvest Times (Issue 33, Nov 2004: 12) ran an article on “healingof the land” and “transformation revival” in which a number of different exampleswere given of communities and areas of land that had undergone divine healing andtransformation, following rites of cleansing and exorcism led by pastors from the ACCF.The article explained how the people of Navatusila had experienced significant changesin the past year:

Tremendous blessing... has come down on the people of Navatusila. From stagnant,dry weather, rain falls there... the crops are in abundance... there is an abundanceof fruits, root crops as well as the fish in the rivers. The skin diseases, which used toinflict the people, have disappeared and even the pigs that used to rummage anddamage their crops, have disappeared. The young people after having heard thattheir land was cursed because of the wrong deeds of their forefathers up to thepresent time then realised that marijuana [which they had been growing andselling for ten years at considerable profit] was one of the causes of this curse...They then decided to pull up all the marijuana in the village... They dedicated theirland and people to God and when dedication prayers were offered [there was] thissprinkling of rainfall from nowhere in heaven just to re-inforce to those who werethere that God was present in the occasion (ibid.: 12).

44 The breaking of the spiritual bondage and re-infusing of the land and people with the

power of the Holy Spirit affected tremendous release and change. Only through publicand inner acknowledgement and confession of this bondage, as part of rites of renewaland transformation, was it possible to lift the curse of past deeds and be rituallycleansed.

45 In order to restore social relations and material well-being in the present it is necessary

to re-interpret particular sites and acts of the past and present as demonic anddestructive, demarcating and dislocating them from the present, the presentunderstood as the time now and ahead of a person from the moment they make thedecision to change and give their lives to Christ. At the same time these rituals connect

the past with the present and in fact emphasise the ever-present power of the past inthe present, just as the potential power of evil in the world is an ever-present reality.

Embodiments of Faith

46 John Barker (2007: 6) points out with regard to pre-Christian beliefs in Melanesia how

“spiritual attacks by sorcerers, spirits, and ghosts [were attributed] to breeches ofmoral codes. In turn, many people interpreted the health of their bodies or success insubsistence activities as indices of the moral condition of their communities (Frankel


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1986). Landscapes, rituals or decorated bodies were also read as embodiments of themoral health of a community” (O'Hanlon 1989).

47 This understanding is similar in Pentecostal Christianity where the body, as the temple

of the Holy Spirit, is a symbol, representation and an individual and collective field ofexpression of faith—in ritual, as experience, spirituality and emotion. To manyPentecostals the body indicates the strength of a person's faith (cf. Coleman 2000: 147,148), the strength of the relationship between the individual and God. The body shouldtherefore also be and be seen to be strong, as this strength and health is in itself awitness to a person's strength of faith.

48 Christ himself should be portrayed as the literal embodiment of health, strength and

power. Simon Coleman, analysing an illustration of Christ as a body-builder in theWord of Life charismatic church in Sweden notes that the picture shows “a healthy,strong body acting as an index of faith... a powerful and triumphalist Christ whoembodies movement... the whole body... exalting in physical and spiritual power. Christis breaking forth, perhaps even removing himself from the confines of the canvasrather than being placed in dialogue with other figures... a Christ of power who looksstraight at the viewer in direct evangelical exhortation” (ibid.).

49 A Pentecostal woman explained to me the significance to Pentecostals of portraying

Christ as strong and triumphant, by comparing Catholic representations of thesuffering and broken Christ on the Cross. If portrayed at all, she said, the Cross shouldbe empty, symbolising the victory and power of the resurrection:

Just as there was an empty tomb, there was an empty cross... To continue to haveChrist on the cross is a sign of defeat and is idolatrous... Jesus has risen... but[they're] continuing to show a picture of weakness and suffering... If there's noresurrection, there's no Christianity... [They are preaching] a gospel of sorrow...[their] portrayal of Christ is always [like this or] as a baby (Mere Momoivalu,interview 1998).

50 Jesus should always be represented as and shown to be strong and victorious. It is the

power of the victorious and indefatigable Risen Christ, such as Coleman's tangibleChrist as a body builder, that transforms and heals individuals and communities, whothrough the power of his Holy Spirit exorcises ancestral spiritual power, restoresmorality and healthy social relations, brings rain, nourishment and healing to barrenland.

Spiritual Warfare

51 Pastor Kanaimawi, ACCF, explains the ACCF healing of the land methodology (Newland

2006: 341-342):

They go out to a village and get all the villagers, irrespective of what church theyare, look at their problems, do a spiritual mapping, map out where the devil hasbeen influential—whether it's a killing field in one place or whether it's where theyworshipped demons in the past—and then they cleanse those out. Then the peoplerepent for what they have done and ask God to come in and the whole village justtransforms.

52 Fer (this volume), referring to Jorgensen (2005), describes spiritual mapping as a

Pentecostal theology of global spiritual warfare, developed on a worldwide-basis sincethe 1980s, entailing a “come-back” of territorial spirits. Jorgensen describes thecategorising of development as physical and spiritual by an elderly man in Telefolip,


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Papua New Guinea, who argued that material development in the area had beenblocked by Satan's power, operating through traditional spirits. Only after this powerhad been broken could development take place (2005: 452, see also Tomlinson 2009:148; Stritecky 2001: 66).

53 A cleansing of the land and exorcising of ancestral spirits was held outside the village

where I lived. The Pentecostal Church of God pastor had a small and rather fluidcommunity of adherents, mainly youth, who met for services and teaching in his homeon the outskirts of the village. One night the pastor led his congregation to the top ofTavuni, the ruins of a fort on a hill behind the village. My sister told me about the all-night prayer vigil she had taken part in.

54 Tavuni, built by the Tongan ancestors of the villagers, was the vanua tabu (lit. forbidden

land) of the vanua. There was an important message in both the pastor's choice oflocation and the timing of the prayers. Although people used to collect firewood onTavuni, it was tabu [taboo, forbidden]to go there after dark and on Sundays. My“father” told me how a soldier had once gone up there on a Sunday to drink, and hadbeen chased away by the ancestral spirit that bothered him for a long time after, untilhe conducted the necessary rites to the clan elders, to ask forgiveness of the vanua andreconcile with the ancestral spirits.

55 But the pastor had led the group of youth up the path to the top of the Fort at the dead

of night. When the group had reached its destination, my sister told me, they spent thefirst part of their vigil exorcising the devils around them. They called out loudly,rebuking them in the name of Jesus Christ, and the devils retreated. After this rite ofexorcism and cleansing, the group spent the rest of the night on the hilltop, praying. Inthe morning they returned to the village.

56 From a Fijian socio-cultural perspective, the violation of traditional norms of respect

(and fear) of ancestral sites and spirits was a strong statement against traditionalvalues and mainstream Christian beliefs and practice. Furthermore the message is, ineffect, a challenge to the political status quo, to the superiority of the power of thechiefly lineage group in the village (the pastor belonged to the commoner clan),entrenched in respect for tradition and the vanua, people's belonging to the land and tothe [Methodist] church.

57 The Fort, an excavated archaeological site, open to the public, was beautifully located

with magnificent vistas of the Sigatoka river and valley, the mountainous interior ofVitilevu to the north, and the white Sigatoka sand dunes and azure of the sea to thesouth. I went there often to spend time alone in the shade of the ancient, gnarled treesand write my fieldwork diary. Despite its history of fighting and cannibalism I hadalways felt it to be a tranquil place I enquired of my sister whether there were only evilspirits up at the Fort; were there no good spirits there? She was astounded at myquestion. There was no doubt in her mind—only evil spirits were there.

Conceptualising and Re-Classifying Evil

58 When later discussing this with Reverend Suliasi Kurulo, at that time pastor of the

parachurch, Every Home for Christ, now senior pastor in Christian Mission Fellowship,he was also abundantly clear:


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There are only two kingdoms: the kingdom of God and the kingdom of darkness—ofSatan and all his fallen angels... in the Bible these demons are called unclean spirits—and all ancestral gods [and spirits] are classified as that (Kurulo, interview 1998).

59 Protestant cosmological understandings that emerged during the Reformation cut out

the Catholic concept of the Great Chain of Being, asserting that the only essentialrealities are those of God and his created world of man. There are no intermediaryspirit beings between God and man in this cosmology, such as the saints and angels ofCatholic belief. In Protestant cosmology God and man are related to each other by God'sgrace and man's faith alone (Taylor 1985: 40).

60 Traditional Fijian understandings of the spirit world are, by contrast, holistic. The

spirits and the efficacy of the spirit world are as much a part of the concept of vanua asthe material elements such as the rocks, rivers and trees and clans they belong to andare an integral part of people's everyday lives. Ancestral spirits are essentially neutralbut can be persuaded through offerings of yaqona (kava) to use their mana for good orevil purposes. Good and evil exist within the Fijian spirit world, but are not clearlydemarcated and separated, as in Christian thought. Using similar clean/uncleandichotomies as Reverend Kurulo, Pastor Ratu Meli Navuniyasi of the Pentecostalchurch, Apostolic Churches Fiji, explained:

Before Christianity people in Fiji had their own religions. They served these godsand devils... the old beliefs came from Eve's disobedience, [from] the FirstDispensation of Innocence. The spiritual teaching of the eating of the fruit isdisobedience to the teaching of the Lord. God is a clean God. If you allow sinfulthings in, he will pull out... [The] vu [ancestral spirits]... are the angels of darkness...They don't act by themselves—they only do what they are asked to do. They canprovide wealth, they can heal, they can kill. You cannot see them—they manifest[themselves] through people... They are all evil (Navuniyasi, interview 26/6/98).

61 What is notable is that the pastors do not negate the existence or the efficacy of

ancestral spirits—but they re-classify them as essentially evil forces. Many of theevangelising practices and rituals of present-day Pentecostals in Fiji, as elsewhere inthe world, mirror the approach of early missionaries to the problem of the pre-Christian spirit world. The night vigil outside the village emphasises that not only areancestral spirits, as personifications and embodiments of tradition, redefined asconcepts of evil and the devil, they are in fact necessary components of Pentecostalbeliefs. As Lionel Caplan (1995: 124) points out:

Unlike liberal Christianity spread by late nineteenth- and early twentieth-centurymissionaries of the principal denominations... which denied the “reality” of evilspirits in the everyday lives of their followers and potential converts,Pentecostalism not only acknowledges their existence, but continuouslydemonstrates the power of the Holy Spirit to vanquish them. 6

62 The actions of the pastor and his flock in the village not only acknowledge the

existence of ancestral spirits (or devils, as they term them), they in fact accentuate thereality of the spirit world. “Through the image of the Devil, old spirits and deities areintegrated into the Protestant universe of discourse as ‘Christian’ demons” 7. And whilethe public outer battle against the demonic ancestral spirits of the land is a very realbattle, while also taking place metaphysically (cf. Stritecky 2001), it mirrors the innerbattle of individuals against the ever pervasive power of the devil and demonicspiritual forces.

63 Cleansing exercises involving the exorcism of demonic forces from land and

community are regularly reported in the Fiji newspapers. The Fiji Times (4/12/02;


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5/12/02; 6/12/02) brought reports of the involvement of Methodist Church members inthe burning down of a family home considered to be possessed by evil spirits, thedismantling of a community hall (soqosoqo) and the burning of a tanoa (wooden kavamixing bowl) said to date from pre-Christian times in two villages in Tailevu. Thepurpose of these acts of cleansing was to exorcise and break demonic bonds with thepast through the destruction of artifacts belonging to the past or buildings that wereseen as housing spirits from a non-Christian, pagan past.

64 “We are trying to... cleanse ourselves spiritually”, the village headman of one of the

villages commented, “and we hope to bring the village, which has been separatedbecause of new church factions coming in, to be together again” (Fiji Times 4/12/02: 1).While the Methodist Church head office distanced itself from the events the “cleansingexercise was done with the support of the vanua and the Methodist Church” (Fiji Times

6/12/02: 2).

65 A villager whose house had been identified as possessed by evil spirits was on the other

hand taking legal action. “The allegations are that there is a spirit who came from thishouse holding an ancient war club and spear”, he said (Fiji Times 5/12/02: 3). And The

Fiji Times editorial, emphasising the value of history and historical artefacts, pointedout that “the deliberate burning of precious historical artifacts is probably illegal”.Some of the artifacts that were destroyed, such as the tanoa, “were made long beforethe Deed of Cession 8 and as such represent a vital link with Fiji's past” (Fiji Times

4/12/02: 6).

Empowering Ritual

66 Joel Robbins (2011) writes that Pentecostalism often claims not to be ritualised yet is

actually notable for “an extremely high degree of ritual activity that marks its sociallife”, and Robbins points to this as the key to understanding its success. Coleman (2011)notes that charismatic ritual has the ability “to frame other kinds of replication, thoseof mimesis and mutual participation—rhetorical, embodied, spatial—amongparticipants within and beyond the meeting hall”. Pentecostalism draws peopletogether into an empowered and empowering ritualised community where change andtransformation become readily attainable through individual agency.

67 Descendents of those who killed and cannibalised Reverend Baker had already

performed two traditional ceremonies of reconciliation to the Methodist Church in Fijiin atonement, one in the early 20th Century and one in the late 20 th Century, in the1980s. Yet, according to the villagers, the curse had not been lifted and its effects—problematic relations with local government, lack of development, social problems,infertile land and bad harvests—continued to dominate their lives.

68 The ceremony performed in 2003, however, was markedly different from the former

traditional reconciliations because Pentecostal and Methodist pastors led villagers in aperiod of prayer, prior to the actual ceremony. The new perspective of the 2003reconciliation was the understanding that people could not wipe the slate clean, so tospeak, by traditional rites alone. Reconciliation and healing of the land could only comeabout if Christian rituals of cleansing and exorcism of the land through the power ofthe Holy Spirit took place prior to the traditional reconciliation ceremony.


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69 In some ways the ceremony became the culmination of a Pentecostal Christian spiritual

preparatory process, rather than the main event. On the other hand, the time-consuming and costly material preparations for a ceremony of such proportions, whichvillagers must have spent weeks on, means that tremendous focus was placed on theceremony itself and the complex interplay of clan relations, as well as the added powerof the attendance of the highest ranking government and church leaders in the countryand overseas guests. However, the unusual addition of a preparatory period of prayingand fasting before a traditional reconciliation ceremony, and the ways in which theevent was explained from Pentecostal perspectives, is significant.

70 The “healing of the land” conducted prior to the Baker reconciliation held tremendous

transformative and empowering potential in the fact that pastors from Suva cameespecially to a neglected, rural area and stayed for a prolonged period to work with thevillagers and guide them through a programme of ritual spiritual reconciliatoryinteraction. The serious attention bestowed on the people of this area and theritualised opportunities individuals were given to act, to take charge of their life andmake a conscious, personal decision to change, is unusual and empowering in relationto the highly hierarchical norms of traditional rural Fiji society.

Conclusion: Redefining Christianity and Tradition

71 It is in many ways extraordinary that Pentecostal pastors officially took part in a

traditional ceremony involving rituals that link people to their ancestral forefathersand spirits. In seeking an explanation for this it is useful, I think, to look at the ways inwhich Pentecostals in Fiji continually seek to differentiate and negotiate between theirfaith as Born Again Christians and their identity as Fijians.

72 The Three Pillars construct of vanua (tradition) lotu (church/Christian faith) and

matanitu (government/state) is constantly referred to as an interwoven construct,though most people focus on the strong interweavings between the first two elements,tradition and church/faith. This is, as previously mentioned, a particularly Methodistperspective.

73 Pentecostal Pastor Ratu Meli Navuniyasi, formerly a Methodist, makes a distinction

between what he considers sacred and profane elements of the construct, saying thatlotu (faith, spirituality, the church) is divine and must be considered separately andheld apart from the worldly categories of vanua and matanitu.

The concept of vanua is very broad and very deep. When you come to understandthe revelation of the Lord [you understand that] the land (vanua) and matanitu aretogether... [but] this lotu is a heavenly matter, it's spiritual. Vanua and matanitu...are of the world. [Jesus said] noqu matanitu e vaka lomalagi—my kingdom is not ofthis world [lit. my kingdom is in Heaven]... Man consists of body, soul, and spirit.Body and soul are well fitted into this government [matanitu] and vanua—the spiritnever (Navuniyasi, interview 12/ 6/98).

74 There are two salient points in this representation of the relations between Christianity

and tradition. One is that the Three Pillar construct is redefined as a triangularrelationship, with lotu as the apex, vanua and matanitu as the base. The second salientpoint is the words “when you come to understand the revelation of the Lord”. Methodistsgenerally see a Fijian's interwoven sense of faith and belonging to vanua as innate, God-given qualities of Fijianness.


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75 In contrast, Pastor Navuniyasi's point is that understanding the revelation of the Lord

is not an inherent characteristic, but the result of a process of recognition andunderstanding. The Lord, through the power of the Holy Spirit, leads the believerthrough a process of transformation to a point where he reveals a deeper understandingof vanua, lotu and matanitu which at a personal spiritual level indisputedly sets thespiritual apart from the worldly. This indicates that such revelation is acquired

knowledge, based on spiritual maturity: “When you are spiritually matured... the spiritwill urge you to do [his work]” (Navuniyasi, interview 5/6/98).

76 I suggest that having first, in the weeks prior to the ceremony, exorcised the land of its

ancestral spiritual power and demonstrated the superior power of Christianity throughthe power of the Holy Spirit in social relations and reconciling people and the land, thepresence of the pastors within the ceremony could be seen as a form of spiritualwarfare—against the presence of ancestral spiritual powers in the traditionalceremony.

77 The presence of the pastors could also be seen as part of a general strategy of

translating vanua values and practices to become based on biblical and PentecostalChristian principles—of rearranging the Three Pillar construct in the way Ratu MeliNavuniyasi explains, with (Pentecostal) Christianity at the apex.

78 And finally, since the ACCF advocates that Fiji be declared a Christian state, entailing

the strengthening of a particular Protestant version of Christianity in Fiji that supportsthe strengthening of chiefly power, the ACCF's organising of the reconciliationceremony and their official presence could also be seen as a political statement.

79 Whatever the motives of the pastors and the ACCF the event as a whole reflects the

continuous historical intertwining of Christianity and tradition in Fiji in terms of faithand beliefs, ritual, performance and politics. It highlights the dynamic ways Pentecostalritual can be transposed to any setting—even, paradoxically, as a prelude to atraditional ceremony Pentecostals would usually eschew. And it underscores thesuccessful ways in which Pentecostals in Fiji redefine Christianity and tradition withinthe framework of their faith, spirituality and theology.

80 The rituals of healing and transformation conducted prior to the Baker reconciliation

did not seek to sever people from their ties to the land and their traditions, but ratherto assert the superior power of the Holy Spirit through exorcising and vanquishingancestral spiritual power and redirecting the importance and thereby power oftradition in people's lives to be defined within a Pentecostal Christian spiritual andtheological framework.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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p. 198-219.

THE DAILY POST, “Kaba seeks Church Forgiveness”, Timoci Vula, 28/8/03, p. 5.

—, “Apology is Significant: PM”, Epeli Tukuwasa, 15/11/03, p. 5.

—, “Chiefs Apologise for Cannibalism”, Mithleshni Gurdayal, 16/11/03, p. 3.

ERRINGTON Frederick K. and GEWERTZ Deborah B., 1995, Articulating Change in the “Last Unknown”,

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EVES Richard, 2003, “Money, Mayhem and the Beast: Narratives of the World's End from New

Ireland (Papua New Guinea)”, JRAI 2003, Vol. 9.

FER Yannick, 2011, “Beyond the Local Church: Evangelical Networks and Polynesian Cultures on

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FIJI SUN, “Curse Broken”, Ana Tudrau, 27/8/03: 1.

—, “Lifting the curse, Comment”, 10/11/03: 4.

—, “Cannibal victim's relatives to visit Fiji”, 13/11/03: 10.

—, “Rev Baker's family forgive, accept apology”, Atunaisa Sokomuri & Otilly Rabuku, 14/11/03: 1

& 5.

—, “Navatusila ceremony historic for Fiji—Qarase”, 15/11/03: 5.

—, “Is Natvatusila cursed?” Swadesh Singh, Letter to the Editor, 18/11/03: 4.

—, “Lifting the curse”, Sanaila Ravia, Letter to the Editor, 27/11/03: 4.

FIJI TIMES, “Villagers burn house, hall”, Elenoa Masi Baselala, 4/12/02: 1.

—, “Un-Christian acts”, Editorial, 4/12/02: 6.

—, “Police watch religious situation”, 5/12/02: 3.

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—, “Koroi condemns Baker plan”, Reijeli Kikau, 5/11/03: 3.

—, “Villagers prepare to seek forgiveness”, Reijeli Kikau, 10/11/03: 2.


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—, “Navatusila curse”, Swadesh Singh, Letter to the Editor, 17/11/03: 6.

—, “Thomas Baker”, Aida J. Whippy, Letter to the Editor 29/11/03: 6.

FRANKEL S., 1986, The Huli Response to Illness, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

HARVEST TIMES, Christian Mission Fellowship of Fiji, 2004, “Healing of the Land”, Issue 33, November

2004, p. 12-13.

JORGENSEN Dan, 2005, “Third Wave Evangelism and the Politics of the Global in PapuaNew Guinea:

Spiritual Warfare and the Recreation of Place in Telefomin”, Oceania 75 (4), p. 444-461.

MEYER Birgit, 1992, “If You are a Devil, You are a Witch and, if You are a Witch, Youare a Devil”.

The Integration of “Pagan” Ideas into the Conceptual Universe of Ewe Christians in Southeastern

Ghana, Journal Religion in Africa 22 (2), p. 98-132.

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Ghana”, Africa 65, p. 236-55.

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Ghanaian Pentecostalist Discourse”, Journal of Religion in Africa 28 (3), p. 316-349.

NEWLAND Lynda, 2004, “Turning the Spirits into Witchcraft: Pentecostalism in Fijian Villages”,

Oceania 75 (1), p. 1-18.

—, 2006, “Fiji” in Ernst, Manfred (ed.), Globalization and the Re-Shaping of Christianity in the Pacific

Islands, Suva, Pacific Theological College, p. 317-389.

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Evil, Oxford: Blackwell, p. 1-25.

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among the Urapmin of Papua New Guinea”. Ethnology 34 (3), p. 211-224.

—, 2004, Becoming Sinners: Christianity and Moral Torment in a Papua New Guinean Society, Berkeley,


—, 2011, “The Obvious Aspects of Pentecostalism: Ritual and Pentecostal Globalization”, in

Lindhardt, Martin (ed.), Practicing the Faith: the Ritual Life of Pentecostal-Charismatic Christians, New

York, Berghahn Books, p. 49-67.

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Anthropological Quarterly, Vol. 81, No. 2, Spring 2008, p. 455-472.

RYLE Jacqueline, 2005, “Roots of Land and Church: The Christian State Debate in Fiji”, International

Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, Vol. 5. No. 1, p. 58-78.

—, 2009, “Les Chemins de la Foi et du Pouvoir: Christianisme, Tradition et Politique à Fidji” in Fer,

Y. & G. Malogne-Fer (eds.), Anthropologie du Christianisme en Océanie, Cahiers du Pacifique

Contemporain (no 4). Paris: L'Harmattan, p. 73-101.

—, 2010, My God, My Land. Interwoven Paths of Christianity and Tradition in Fiji, Farnham, Ashgate.

STRATHERN Andrew & Pamela J. Stewart, 2004, Empowering the Past, Confronting the Future: the Duna

People of Papua New Guinea, New York, Palgrave Macmillan.

STRITECKY Jolene Marie, 2001, “Israel, America, and the Ancestors: Narratives of Spiritual Warfare

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THE SUNDAY POST “Navatusila—an apology”, feature, Niko Rabuku, 23/11/03, p. 10-13.

TAYLOR Donald, 1985, “Theological Thoughts about Evil”, in Parkin, David (ed.), The Anthropology of

Evil, Oxford: Basil Blackwell, p. 26-41.

THORNLEY Andrew, 2002, Exodus of the i Taukei: The Wesleyan Church in Fiji 1848-74. Na Lako Yani ni

Kawa i Taukei, Suva, Institute of Pacific Studies.

—, 2003 “Thomas Baker”. Letter to the Editor, The Sunday Times, 23/11/03, p. 6.

TOMLINSON Matt, 2002, “Sacred Soil in Kadavu, Fiji”, Oceania, Vol. 72, No. 4, p. 237-257.

—, 2009, In God's Image: the Metaculture of Christianity in Fiji, Berkeley, University of California

Press.

TROMPF Gary, 1991, Melanesian Religion, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

—, 1994, Payback. The Logic of Retribution in Melanesian Religions, Cambridge, Cambridge University

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—, 1995, “Oceania”, in Swain, T. and Trompf, G., The Religions of Oceania, London & New York:

Routledge.

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Studies, University of the South Pacific & Auckland: College of St John the Evangelist.

WEIR Christine, 2000, “The Gospel Came... Fighting is Ceasing Amongst Us': Methodist

Representations of Violence in Fiji and New Britain, 1830-1930”, in Dinnen Sinclair and Allison

Ley (eds.), Reflections on Violence in Melanesia, Canberra, Hawkins Press and Asia Pacific Press.

WILLIAMS Thomas, 1982 [1858], Fiji and the Fijians, Vol. 1: The Islands and their Inhabitants, Stringer

Rowe, G. (ed.) Reprint, Suva, Fiji Museum.

Interviews conducted

Pastor Ratu Meli Navuniyasi, Apostolic Church Fiji, 5/6/98, 12/6/98, 26/6/98

Reverend Suliasi Kurulo, Every Home for Christ, 7/7/98

Reverend Jone Langi, General Secretary, The Methodist Church in Fiji and Rotuma, 24/10/02

Reverend Suliasi Kurulo, Christian Mission Fellowship, 28/9/04

Reverend Ledua Kacimaiwai, Wesley Methodist Church, Association of Christian Churches in Fiji,

1/11/04

Reverend Poate Mata, Gospel Apostolic Outreach, 9/11/04

NOTES

1. Kava (yaqona), a mildly narcotic drink made from the dried and pulverised roots of the piper

methysticum plant, plays a central role in sealing traditional ritual transactions in Fiji. When

presented as an exchange valuable, the whole, dried roots are presented in special presentation

bundles.

2. Former Methodist Church president Reverend Josateki Koroi warned that this high profile

event would end up creating more poverty and financial problems for the villagers (Fiji Times

5/11/03: 3), see also Fiji Times 10/11/03: 2, 17/11/03: 6, 29/ 11/03: 6, Fiji Sun 27/8/03: 1, 18/11/03:

4, 27/11/03: 4.


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3. I thank John Barker for referring me to Errington and Gewertz 1995 for a comparable

example of a re-enactment of the arrival of missionary George Brown to the Duke of York Islands

in 1875. See also Weir 2000.

4. See Eves 2003, Robbins 2004: 231-246, Rumsey 2008 on the importance of confession in

Pentecostal faith practice in Papua New Guinea.

5. A missing link in this article is the experience of the people themselves, but the date for the

Baker reconciliation was moved so many times it became impossible for me to participate. The

event finally took place when I had left the country, and I was unable subsequently to visit the

area.

6. See also Caplan 1985, 1987a, 1987b, Barker 1990, Robbins 1995. And Parkin 1985.

7. Meyer 1998: 322, see also 1992 and 1995, Newland 2004.

8. 1874—when Fijian chiefs ceded Fiji to Britain.

ABSTRACTS

This article discusses a high-profile traditional reconciliation ceremony staged in Fiji in

November 2003. It describes how human agency is reflected in the state of the land and in

people's social relations, past and present; how human agency is seen to spiritually disturb or

reconcile the land, its innate ancestral powers and their influence on people's relations and the

land; and how the efficacy of ancestral spirituality of the land may affect change, punishing or

rewarding people's actions. And it discusses how the power of the Holy Spirit can bring about

change through exorcising the land of ancestral spiritual power and un-blocking what

Pentecostal Christians describe as demonic spiritual strongholds.

Cet article traite d'une cérémonie traditionnelle très médiatisée qui a eu lieu à Fidji en novembre

2003. Il décrit la manière dont l'action des hommes se reflète dans l'état de la terre et dans les

relations sociales, passées et présentes ; comment l'action des hommes est perçue comme un

élément spirituel de perturbation ou de réconciliation entre la terre, ses pouvoirs ancestraux et

leur influence sur les relations entre le peuple et la terre ; et comment les forces spirituelles

ancestrales de la terre peuvent agir sur le cours des événements, en punissant ou en

récompensant les actions des personnes. Enfin, il traite de la manière dont le pouvoir du Saint-

Esprit peut apporter un changement en exorcisant de la terre son pouvoir ancestral et en

éliminant ce que les pentecôtistes décrivent comme des bastions des puissances démoniaques.

Este artículo trabaja una ceremonia tradicional muy mediatizada que tuvo lugar en Fidji en

noviembre de 2003. Describe la manera en que la acción de los hombres se refleja en el estado de

la tierra y en las relaciones sociales, pasadas y presentes; cómo la agencia humana es percibida

como un elemento espiritual de perturbación o de reconciliación entre la tierra, sus poderes

ancestrales y su influencia en las relaciones entre el pueblo y la tierra; y cómo las fuerzas

espirituales ancestrales de la tierra pueden actuar sobre el curso de los acontecimientos,

castigando o recompensando las acciones de las personas. Finalmente, trata de la manera en que

el poder del Espíritu Santo puede aportar un cambio, exorcizando el poder ancestral de la tierra y

eliminando aquello que los Pentecostales describen como bastiones de los poderes demoníacos.


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INDEX

Palabras claves: cristianismo, reconciliación, ritual, tierra, tradición

Keywords: Christianity, land, reconciliation, ritual, tradition

Mots-clés: christianisme, réconciliation, rituel, terre, tradition

AUTHOR

JACQUELINE RYLE

independent researcher, [email protected]


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Spirit Women, Church Women, andPassenger WomenFemmes esprits, femmes d'église, femmes de passage : christianisme, genre et

changement culturel en Mélanésie

Mujeres espíritus, mujeres de iglesia, mujeres de paso: cristianismo, género y

cambio cultural en Melanesia

Joel Robbins

Christianity, Gender, and Cultural Change in Melanesia

1 The literature on cultural transformation in Melanesia has grown rapidly over the last

decade. Bucking a tradition of neglect, anthropologists of the region have increasinglyturned their attention the study of change. The most general argument of this paper isthat the development of work in this area has opened up opportunities for new kinds ofcomparative work focused on examining different kinds of processes of change. Whereonce Melanesianists almost exclusively compared traditional institutions and ideas, weare now in position to compare the ways these institutions and ideas change in the faceof the arrival of new ones, and to ask a new set of questions. Are processes of changegeneral across the region? If they are not, what accounts for the differences? Dodifferent colonial histories account for them? Or exposure to different kinds of newinstitutions and ideas? Or do differences in traditional institutions and ideas drivechange in divergent ways? Were we to ask questions such as these, the anthropology ofMelanesia might one day become as well known for its contribution to the study ofcultural change as it has been for its exploration of the social dynamics of small scalesocieties and its documentation and analysis of radical cultural difference.

2 In this article, I want to contribute to this new orientation by looking at processes of

change brought about by conversion to Christianity and in particular at the ways inwhich Christianity has transformed gender relations. Christian missionaries have longunderstood their efforts to be of particular benefit to women, who they believe will notonly be saved by conversion, but also emancipated from what the missionaries take to


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be excessive male domination. Although it is not difficult to identity the self-justifyingaspect of this liberationist rhetoric, we can also take it to point to an area wheremissionaries at least hope their presence will have a great transformational impact.And when the missionary's own claims are set alongside the very common observationthat in Christianity “women outnumber men” throughout the world (Woodhead, 2001:73), there is a strong case to be made that the study of how Christianity transformsgender relations ought to be important for the study of Christianity and culturalchange more generally.

3 In this article, I will look at two cases in which Christianity has transformed gender

relations. Both cases have been studied by anthropologists who have also laid outexplicit models of the ways in which cultural change has followed conversion in thesocieties they have studied, and this makes it easier to carry out the comparison of thetwo cases in a thorough way. The two different processes of change, I will argue, haveled to different outcomes in relation to gender, and this suggests that whileChristianization does allow for changes in gender conceptions and relations, it does noton its own determine the direction these changes will take. Lest this rather open endedconclusion lead us to assume that this conclusion indicates that Christianity has littleeffect on processes of change, however, I also introduce a third case in which a greatdeal of modernizing change unaccompanied by thorough Christianization can be shownto have opened up a new possibilities for male and female behavior, but withoutchanging the core shape of traditional gender values. I will argue that this suggests thateven if Christianity does not introduce wholly predictable changes in gender relationsamong all people who take it up, it can be seen to have a special role to play in fosteringchange in this domain.

4 Focused as this paper is on examining a number of cases, its structure has some of the

features of the famous anthropological method of “controlled comparison.” But Ishould confess at the outset that it does not fully succeed in these terms. I have notbeen able to go into all of the differences in cultural background, societal size, andhistorical experience that hold between the three societies I am considering, nor toassess how these, rather than the factors I do consider, might account for the outcomesof change that I am comparing. Rather than a case of controlled comparison meant todefinitively prove a point, this paper is an exploration of some of the ways Christianitycan be seen as central to the transformation of gender relations in Melanesia. Itssuccess will have to be gauged in relation to the questions it opens up, rather than theones it answers.

Spirit Women: Christianity and Gender among theUrapmin of Papua New Guinea

5 The first case I will consider is based on my own fieldwork and concerns the Urapmin

of Papua New Guinea. The Urapmin are a group of approximately 390 people living inthe Sandaun Province. They are part of the Min or Mountain Ok group of cultures. In1977 a charismatic revival moved through the southern part of the Min province andquickly made its way to Urapmin. In the course of the year that followed everyone inthe community converted. Since that time, the Urapmin have understood themselvesas a completely Christian community. I have told the story of their conversionelsewhere and will not review it here (Robbins, 2004a). Instead, I want to focus on what


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their turn to Charismatic Christianity has meant for Urapmin ways of thinking aboutand enacting gender relations.

6 One of the most striking outcomes of Urapmin conversion has been the rise of a class of

Holy Spirit mediums who are known as “Spirit women” (Spirit meri, Sinik unang 1). TheSpirit woman role was established very early on in the process of revival and its adventhas to count as one of the most dramatic early changes the movement wrought. Interms of what the role entails, Spirit women are mediums who are regularly able tobecome possessed by the Holy Spirit when their clients visit them. Once they arepossessed, the Spirit “shows” them which indigenous nature spirits (motobil) aremaking their clients sick and helps to chase these spirits away. Less commonly, peopleask Spirit women to consult the Holy Spirit concerning the whereabouts of lost objects.Also infrequently, Spirit women perform possession rituals in which the Spirit works topermanently rid specific areas of indigenous spirits in order to make them safer forpeople to live and work in. Finally, Spirit women sometimes perform rituals in whichthey ask the Spirit to foster the success of mineral prospecting efforts that sporadicallytake place on Urapmin land by encouraging the nature spirits to give up the mineralsthey are thought to possess.

7 As a class of religious specialists, the Spirit women are in most respects unprecedented

in Urapmin history. Before the Urapmin conversion to Christianity, some older menhad reputations as diviners who could look at leaves floating in water and discernwhich nature spirits were afflicting their clients. But beyond being similar to the Spiritwomen in their diagnostic role, these diviners were quite different. They did notbecome possessed (an unknown technique among the pre-conversion Urapmin), couldnot call on a greater spiritual power to help chase afflicting spirits away, and their rolein Urapmin life and imagination appears to have been limited (it appears, for example,that they were completely in the shadow of the men who led the central the men's cultthat constituted the most elaborated sector of traditional religion). 2 By contrast, theSpirit women are prominent figures on the contemporary religious landscape, andtheir functions extend far beyond divinatory diagnosis to include healing and themanagement of the indigenous spirit world more generally. For most Urapmin, the riseof the Spirit women and the powers for good they are able to harness are some of themost important and welcome aspects of the present Christian Era, and Spirit womenand their powers are central to how they think about their contemporary lives.

8 As novel as are the techniques and powers of the Spirit women, the fact that they are

women is perhaps even more unexpected. Traditional Urapmin ritual life was almostwholly in the hands of men. All rites that involved people from beyond the family wereundertaken by men. And most often these rites were carried out secretly, as there was apronounced emphasis on the need to keep mythic and ritual knowledge secret fromwomen. Women's engagement with the world of spirits and ancestors was for the mostpart limited to the practice of rites that in traditional anthropological parlance wouldbe defined as “magic”: that is, those carried out privately and for the benefit of theperson who performs them (i.e. to help in the rearing of large, fatty pigs). There is noroom to go into greater detail about traditional Urapmin religion here, but it perhapssuffices to say that it accords neatly with the well known picture of men's cult societiesin other parts of the Min region (see Barth, 1975 and Jorgensen, 1981). Given this, therise to great prominence of a class of female ritual specialists marks a majortransformation in the way Urapmin handle gender in the religious domain. This raises


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the question: how did women, who once played such a small role in Urapmin religion,so quickly become central to their Christianity?3 I have no one answer to this question,but want to canvass several of them before turning to a consideration of what the Spiritwomen role can tell us about changes in gender ideas and relations among theUrapmin.

9 People in Urapmin do not spontaneously speculate on why women have come to take

on such a central ritual role in Urapmin Christianity. They do note that the first Spiritwomen they knew of was the wife of the principle at a local bible college in anotherpart of the Min region. This man is widely thought to have brought the revival to thearea through his prayers, and it began at his college and spread out from there asstudents took it to their home communities. His wife is thus taken to have been thefirst to demonstrate what women were capable of in the Christian Era. Upon myprobing, several people also suggested that God has given special powers to womenbecause he favors the “weak.” This was meant, I think, primarily in a physical sense:Urapmin people, both men and women, tend to see women as physically weaker.Furthermore, the few people who offered this suggestion noted that it also helpedexplain the existence of the one “Spirit man” in the Urapmin community. This Spiritman, who performs the same mediumistic rites as the Spirit women, is the one personin the community suffering from advanced leprosy and he is unable to walk. I reportthese two small pieces of local Urapmin reflection here in the interest of thoroughness,but must also admit that I have found it hard to work them into a very strong accountof why women became important ritual specialists after the conversion of the Urapmin.

10 Turning to more analytic approaches to this question, a first answer might be to

observe that the rise of the Spirit women fits a pattern common in societies likeUrapmin in which people have converted to charismatic and Pentecostal Christianity.Among such Christians, men often dominate formal church roles (as they do inUrapmin), while women are expected to receive more gifts of the Spirit and thus tooccupy roles such as lay preacher, healer, evangelist and prophet in which authority isbased primarily on charisma (see Robbins, 2004b: 132 for references). Yet the fact thatthe role of women in Urapmin charismatic Christianity is in keeping with a wider trendamong such churches does little to explain why they have taken up this role in theUrapmin case, and in particular it does not help us understand how they could havecome to fill this role in a society in which women were previously so thoroughlyexcluded from holding public religious office.

11 To move closer to the specificities of the Urapmin situation, it is useful to explore a

second analytic answer to our question, this one having to do with very generalchanges in the role gender differences play in Urapmin culture. As in many otherMelanesian societies in which men's cults were prominent, and even in many in whichsuch cults were not present or of great importance, gender difference was in traditionalUrapmin culture something of a master opposition which served to structuredifference in other domains such as that of food (where some foods were eaten only bymen, some only by women), space (which was criss-crossed by men's and women'spaths), the built environment (which features men's houses and women's houses), thedivision of labor (divided into men's and women's tasks), sociality in general (whichwas structured by a wide range of taboos on cross-sex contact), and, as we have alreadyseen, the religious domain. In traditional Urapmin culture, gender was, as Eriksen(2008: 8) puts it for North Ambrym, Vanuatu (the next society I will consider in this


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paper), “the one difference that organizes other differences” (Eriksen is drawing hereon highly influential work of M. Strathern [1988]) Its power to do so was anchored inimportant cosmological and religious understandings that rendered uncontrolledcontact between women and men profoundly dangerous both to individual men and tocollective well being. If one can speculate on the basis of what we know about pre-Christian Min cultures, the fact that gender difference played such a prominent role intraditional Urapmin culture would have made it a topic of extensive discussion andelaboration.

12 By the time of my fieldwork, which began in January 1991, only fourteen years after the

onset of the revival, the salience of gender difference as a master opposition inUrapmin culture had entirely disappeared. It had been replaced by the oppositionbetween “black” people, like the Urapmin and others from PNG, and “white” people,like the Australian colonists, missionaries, and other westerners whom the Urapminhad met or come to know about (for a longer discussion of this argument, see Robbins,2004a: 40-41, 171-173). Just as gender once organized Urapmin understanding of allmanner of things, the black/white opposition now defined kinds of food, technology,knowledge, places, and ways of life. Christianity is not solely responsible for thischange; the colonial process in its more explicitly political and economic forms was atleast as important in bringing it about. But Christianity has contributed greatly tomaking the world shaped around this opposition coherent for the Urapmin.Christianity, as the Urapmin understand it, comes from the white world, and becauseJesus is white, the black/white opposition too is cosmologically anchored, and this iswhat has allowed it to become a topic of constant discussion and elaboration today.

13 Christianity not only helped the Urapmin understand the world in black and white

terms, it also did a great deal to make it possible for them to sideline gender as a keyopposition by downplaying the extent and importance of gender differences. It did thismost forcefully by insisting that the Urapmin drop all of their food taboos and thetaboos that interdicted cross-sex contact that was not sexual in nature. As the Urapminunderstand it, God does not want them to follow any taboos, and to do so would betantamount to displaying one's lack of trust in the power of his protection against theillnesses that formerly afflicted violators. Gone with the taboos is the fine structure ofdistinctions between foods and paths that once allowed gender differences to ramifythroughout daily life in Urapmin. And with the abandonment of traditional religion,gone too are the male rituals and the men's houses that once anchored genderdifferences in cosmological dramas that reinforced their salience. In their place is aChristian insistence that all people, men and women, are responsible to the sameextent for their own salvation, and the claim (often expressed though not alwaysrealized) that women as well as men should be able to pray, preach, and performChristian rituals. With gender distinctions thus downplayed, Urapmin Christianitysuggests that it is blacks and whites, rather than women and men, who are mostmeaningfully different from one another.

14 It is clear, then, that as a result of conversion gender has become less salient than it

once was in most of the key contexts of people's lives in Urapmin (on the notion ofgender salience, see Chodorow, 1989: 217-218). It remains true, however, that ineveryday life there are still important differences between men and women connectedto the division of labor—men still hunt and clear gardens, and women still plant andweed gardens, for example. There are also some very basic norms of interaction that


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are different for men and women. Women tend to speak less than men in public,usually adopting a shy (fitom, lit. “shame”) demeanor in mixed sex situations outsidethe family realm. But even as these differences continue to exist, people do notemphasize their wider import or discuss the ways they should organize the conduct oflife in general.

15 In church discourse, men and women generally stress equal participation by both men

and women, though this is rarely realized in practice. Men often say publicly thatwomen should play just as active a role in church as men do, and they urge them tolead prayers, which they sometimes do, and to preach, which they only very rarely do.There are also women deacons, but their primary role appears to be to hear the privateconfessions of female members of the church. My reading of the role of gender inorganizing church life is that interactional norms that work against women speaking inpublic work against the general Urapmin Christian ideological push for Christianequality. 4 Women who feel comfortable flouting the interactional norms are generallywomen who are older or, in one case, a woman who is the daughter of a prominent bigman who has no sons or wives, and these women do find space to lead prayers orpreach in church. Other women, however, while acknowledging that speaking formallyin church is open to them, do not feel comfortable doing so.

16 Having noted the Christian discourse of equal church participation by women and men,

I should also note that Urapmin men, and occasionally women, in other contexts givevoice to the Pauline claim that the husband is the “head” of the wife. This is generallytaken to refer to domestic contexts, rather than church ones, where it supports ahusband's authority to make the general plan of work for his family. It is not muchelaborated beyond bald statement, and does not issue in the kind of broader,cosmologically tinted view of gender differences that would make it the cornerstone ofthe kind of gender-organized view of the world that was so important in pre- ChristianUrapmin. But it does represent a resource for a discourse of Christian patriarchy thatruns counter to the egalitarian one that is more prominent in religious contexts.

17 Turning back to the main focus of my discussion, the decline of gender as a salient

organizing principle in Urapmin, and the rise of the relatively egalitarian Christianaccount of the religious sphere, has had a major influence on the development of theSpirit woman role. At the very least, it has cleared the public space that role requires bymaking it possible for women to claim religious expertise and lead religious rites. Thatwomen have been able to claim that space has in part been the result of the way inwhich possession by the Holy Spirit excuses them from the need to meet the dominantexpectations concerning women's public behavior. Possessed by the Spirit and thengiving voice to what it has shown them, they are not bound by the usual norms ofmodesty that inhibit most women from taking a lead role in church services. But evenbefore they claim public space in that way, it has come to exist for them by virtue of theway Christianity has attenuated the salience of gender difference in Urapmin life—removing, for example, a strong sense that the world is made up of discrete men's andwomen's spaces—and for the most part removed gender from its previously importantorganizing role in the religious realm.

18 A final way I want to situate the rise of the Spirit women is in relation to what I see as

the dominant trend of the change Christianity has introduced in Urapmin. I haveelsewhere analyzed the change Christianity has brought to Urapmin in Dumont's termsas one in which individualism as a value has displaced relationalism as a value in the


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religious domain, even as relationalism continues to be dominant in other domains ofUrapmin life. I do not have the space to lay out my reading of Dumont here, nor tosketch its application to the Urapmin situation in the kind of detail I have offeredbefore (Robbins, 2004a). For present purposes, I hope it will be sufficient to defineChristian individualism as a sole focus on the individual as the unit of salvation. It isindividuals that are saved, not relationships, families, or other kinds of socialgroupings, and individuals are saved only on the basis of their own faith. Thisindividualist value is distinct from the traditional value I have called “relationalism”,which sees the creation of successful relationships, rather than successful individuals,as the primary goal toward which life should be organized. Spirit women are importantin contemporary Urapmin in part, I want to argue, because they are apt figures of thekind of person this new value leads people to try to become, and also because in theirrites they work to assure the continued religious dominance of individualism againstthe lingering claims of relationalism that are embodied in the behavior of indigenousspirits.

19 In claiming that the Spirit women are apt figures of the Christian individual, I have in

mind particularly the way they are understood to function as speaking subjects. One ofthe realms in which the Urapmin have worked most assiduously at becoming Christianindividuals is that of speech. In keeping with a general emphasis within Protestantism,the Urapmin have defined the individual speaker as someone who speaks sincerely inall cases and who claims responsibility for what he/she has said. It is this kind ofindividual, one who is in control of his/her own speech, who is best outfitted to achievesalvation. This Protestant language ideology contrasts with a traditional Urapmin onein which speech is not seen to carry information about what the speaker thinks or feelsand in which listeners are responsible for what they make of the utterances they hear(Robbins, 2001; Schieffelin, 2007; see also Keane, 2007 on Protestantism moregenerally). The strong opposition of the two language ideologies—which are almostinverse images of one another—has made the shift to Christian speaking difficult formost Urapmin, who regularly achieve it only in certain contexts such as that of prayer(Robbins, 2001; 2007). Spirit women, however, are widely represented as paragons oftruthful speaking when they are speaking in the Spirit women role. As people often say,“you cannot speak behind the Spirit's back.” This is understood to mean that onecannot doubt what Spirit women report about what the Holy Spirit has “shown” themwhen they are possessed. Their statements on these matters should always be taken asreliable. While other Urapmin face difficult challenges in learning to speak sincerely,people are generally confident that the Spirit women can and do speak in this way. Inthis respect, they model more than any other Urapmin the Christian individual as aspeaker and this is an important part of the role they play in Urapmin culture.

20 In explaining how some women came to stand as paradigms of the individual Christian

speaker, there is a traditional aspect of women's lives that is perhaps relevant. The onecontext in which the traditional language ideology that gave language no role inconveying people's thoughts and left interpretation up to the speaker was the customof women “calling the name” (win bakamin) of the men they wanted to marry. InUrapmin, women propose, and they are supposed to choose whom they want to marrywithout any outside interference from adult relatives or suitors. When a woman isready to announce her choice, she proceeds to indicate this through a number ofritualized steps and finally tells his name to an adult male relative. This man is boundto take her at her word—that is, to assume she is speaking sincerely and accurately—


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and to attempt to arrange the marriage with the boy's family. I will not here go into thedetails of the ritualized process by which this is carried out, or the discomfort(“shame”) all those involved feel, though these details clearly demonstrate howanomalous this act of speaking is in relation to traditional Urapmin language ideology(see Robbins, 2008). For present purposes, it is enough to indicate that traditionally allwomen, at this one key point in their lives, were expected to speak in ways that arevery much in accord with the ways Christian individuals are expected to speak.Moreover, in doing so they are expected to make precisely the kinds of personalchoices Christian individuals are expected to make (and take responsibility for).Although this fact alone does not explain the rise of the whole Spirit womaninstitution, it does suggest one reason why women, rather than men, were best suitedby their traditional inheritance to take on this role as it developed.

21 Turning from the way Spirit women speak to examine the content and goals of the rites

they perform, we can note that many of these rites can be understood as defending thevalue of individualism against the claims relationalism still makes on people by way ofits importance outside the religious realm. In order to analyze the activities of theSpirit women in this way, it is important to recognize that the traditional spirits theyfight against represent the value of relationships. As the Urapmin traditionallyunderstood matters, nature spirits were created before human beings and they are theoriginal owners of all of the land the Urapmin live and garden on, all of the outstandingfeatures of the environment they inhabit (streams, larger trees and rocks, caves, etc.),and the animals they hunt. The spirits allow people to use all of these things, but whenthey feel they have been disrespected by people—because people have laughed, ortalked too loudly, or in other ways behaved offensively while using the resources thatbelong to the spirits, or because they have violated taboos that define how the spirit'sresources can be used—they make people sick. They do so by clutching them with theirhands and feet and refusing to let go. All illnesses of any severity in Urapmin areunderstood to be caused by nature spirits acting in this way.

22 As Gardner (1987) has pointed out about nature spirits among the Mianmin, another

Min group, Urapmin spirits clearly represent the qualities that make humanrelationships conflictual: they can be generous, but are also prone to selfishness andoverreaction that leads to dangerous hostility. Traditionally, Urapmin would respondto sicknesses caused by offended spirits by repairing their relationships with them bygiving them a pig in sacrifice (kang anfukaleng) and asking them to take the smell of thepig and release the afflicted person. As they did so, they reaffirmed a core message oftheir relationalism that holds that it is crucial to make and repair relationships evenwhen it is difficult to do so, for without relationships a person has no strength. 5

23 One of the key planks of Urapmin Christianity is the claim that God made the earth and

wants human beings to use it fully. Given this, people now suspect that the naturespirits, while they did predate human beings on Urapmin land, cannot count as itsrightful owners. The abrogation of large parts of the taboo system is based in this newunderstanding. The more general result is that the nature spirits have lost alllegitimate relational claims on the Urapmin. Yet as people see it, the spirits continue tomake them sick (they have as yet no Christian or other “modern” understanding ofwhere sickness comes from that they find convincing). This is what makes the work ofthe Spirit women so important, for their primary role is to deal with the sickness thenature spirits still cause by way of pressing their relational claims, illegitimate though


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they may be. After a person has been healed by a Spirit woman, he/she is left tofunction as an individual vis-à-vis the spirits—someone who can do what he/ she wantswithout worrying about the relational bonds that once spiritually encumbered him/her.

24 The most common Spirit woman rites illustrate this point quite neatly. After the Holy

Spirit shows the Spirit woman which spirit(s) is clutching a person, she lays hands onthe person and prays strenuously to God to “banish” the spirit, to cut off its clutchinghands and feet, and to bind it in hell where it can no longer press its relational claimson human beings. The grabbing of people the spirits engage in is a macabre parody ofthe idiom of “holding” (kutalfugumin) the Urapmin use to describe valued humanrelationships. In putting an end to it, and working to ensure that it does not recur, theSpirit women enact a powerful breaking of relationships that leave the person to standfor him or herself. Rites of clearing whole areas of spirits involve the same imagery ofbanishing and severing, and work to further enhance people's individual ability toinhabit and use the world as they choose. Freed of the burden of such relationships, itis little wonder that the Urapmin call the present era without taboos one of “free time.”In banishing the spirits, the Spirit women work to extend the reach of this individualistmodel of social life among the Urapmin.

25 In the rites they perform in connection with mineral prospecting, the Spirit women

further strike at the heart of the nature spirits' promotion of relationalism by enactingthat most unlikely social forms: an individualist form of sacrifice. Mineral prospectingteams that visit Urapmin are looking primarily for gold. As the Urapmin understand it,the spirits are holding this gold and it is their failure to release it to the prospectorsthat has resulted in them not finding enough of it to begin mining operations inUrapmin. In light of this problem, Spirit women perform rites to clear spirits off of theland the prospectors will be working on, and these take the same form as those theyuse to cleanse villages and other areas of spiritual presence. On occasion, they havegone beyond this to lead rituals in which pigs are killed and given to the spirits, whoare asked to take them and release the gold. In many structural respects, these rites canbe seen as sacrifices in which the gold, which the spirits are holding, plays the roleusually played by the patient, whom the spirits also hold. Yet there is one significantdifference between these two kinds of rite (see Robbins, 1996). In routine sacrifices, therite aims to heal a relationship that has been broken. In the rite exchanging pigs forgold, the aim is to break a relationship that has not previously been broken. In effect,the exchange of pigs for gold is framed as a market relationship undertaken byindividuals each of whom will get what they desire and neither of whom will expectanything from the other in the future. In this way, the Spirit women's new form ofsacrifice of pigs for gold is an attempt to directly substitute an individualist social formfor a relational one and in doing so to individualize the spirit world as fully as thehuman one.

26 In this section, I have used the Spirit women as a lens for looking at how Christianity

has shaped cultural change among the Urapmin. I have explored a number of differentfactors that may have led to the rise of these women specialists in a culture thatformerly allowed only men to occupy important religious roles. I have also situated therituals the Spirit women carry out in relationship to the broader changes Christianityhas brought to the Urapmin, suggesting that their prominence rests in part on the waythey are able both to model and further institutionalize the individualism that has


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become the paramount value among Christian Urapmin. In bringing this last line ofargument to a close, it is worth noting how poorly the famous explanation of femalespirit possession offered by I. M. Lewis (2003 [1971]) fits the Urapmin case. Lewis holdsthat female spirit possession is often a “peripheral” kind of possession that depends onmarginal, “outside” spirits, does not uphold traditional morality, and constitutes inessence a form of women's resistance to male domination. Possession of this kindstands in contrast to “central” men's cults, addressed to ancestors and involved inupholding community morality. Maxwell (1999: 201-203) has pointed out that Lewis'smodel does not neatly fit situations in which women become Holy Spirit mediums afterconversion to Pentecostal or charismatic churches. For in these cases women arepossessed by a central Spirit, one aspect of the divinity that underwrites male religiouspractice as well. Their mediumship also reinforces community morality in quite directways. In the Urapmin case, this takes the form of supporting the rising value ofindividualism against the relationalist threats it continues to face. In becomingmediums of the Holy Spirit, Spirit women thus move themselves to the center ofChristianity in Urapmin, and they gain prestige and power by promoting and realizingto a greater extent than others the collectively held paramount value that Christianitypromotes. In the next case we will examine, Christianity has also enabled women todevelop new institutional bases of power, but this time by promoting their traditionalvalues to a more central place in their culture more generally.

Church Women: Christianity and Gender in NorthAmbrym, Vanuatu

27 Ranon villagers of North Ambrym, Vanuatu have had an experience of Christianity that

is very different than that of the Urapmin. First of all, their experience has been ofmuch longer duration, since by the time the Urapmin conversion took place in 1977they had already been Christian for roughly 80 years (Eriksen, 2008: 1). Secondly, thedominant church in Ranon is Presbyterian, and the village has never taken part in thekind of charismatic revival movement that so transformed Urapmin. As important asthese differences are, they are not the ones I want to focus on here. Instead, I am mostinterested in the way we can understand the kind of change wrought by Christianity inRanon as having been different at the level of cultural values. As Eriksen (2008: 3), onwhose work I am drawing, has put it, while Christianity introduced a new value ofindividualism to Urapmin and initiated a struggle between individualism andtraditional relationalism, in Ranon Christianity did not challenge the value ofrelationalism, but rather it transformed the hierarchical relationship between maleand female forms of realizing that value. In this section I will lay out the nature ofChristian change in Ranon and look briefly at how it has changed women's lives.

28 At the center of Eriksen's analysis of the process of Christianization in Ranon is a

distinction between two gendered kinds of action that serve to express therelationalism of Ranon culture. The male form of action, realized most fully in the malegraded mage society, sees people drawing on their relationships to collect resourcesthey present in their own name in actions in which they “personify” their relationshipsin their person. Because those who act in this way increase their personal prestige, thisform of action is competitive and hierarchical. The female form of action, by contrast,stresses the creation of relationships and ultimately of community. It is built around


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movement and connection more than competition, and it eventuates not in thecreation of personifications but of communities that can be taken to be social wholes(Eriksen, 2008: 7). Following Strathern (1988), Eriksen (2008: 7) notes that both men andwomen can act in male and female ways—it is the forms of action that are gendered,not in the first instance the persons who enact them. Yet it is also true that women, byvirtue of their movement in marriage, are better equipped to realize the female form ofaction, and men, by virtue of their role in the mage and in other aspects of theceremonial economy, find themselves directed more often to the male form.

29 Against this background, Eriksen shows in convincing detail that Christianization has

transformed the Ranon value hierarchy in such a way as to make the previouslysubordinated female form of action the more valued one. Men initially showed interestin the Church, but when early missionaries insisted on maintaining an egalitarian,communal vision of Christianity—one in which women were encouraged to participatein church and men were not allowed to use the church as a forum for producingpersonifications of their own power—the men dropped the church and left it to thewomen. Having been given the church in this way, women found that its egalitarian,evangelistic ethos was well suited their own forms of action and they eagerly spread itas they moved and made new connections. Over the course of the 20th century, thechurch in Ambrym became the “most important social institution on the island”(Eriksen, 2008: 83). As it rose, it lifted the female form of action to the position ofprominence in the value hierarchy that it currently enjoys.

30 What has this meant for the position of women in North Ambrym society? On a most

general level, Christianity has formed a concerted social “movement” around thefemale form of action—a kind of action that always existed but that formerly had noself-consciously organized group to actively promote its practice (Eriksen, 2008: 96-7).Within the church, women can take formal roles, such as that of elder, though they doso less often than men (Eriksen, 2008: 100). More importantly, women have formedtheir own group within the church and meet without men present, giving themselvessocial space to elaborate their relations to one another and their concerns (p. 113).Finally, they control church fund raising, an activity that has become the mostimportant part of the prestigious, formerly male-dominated ceremonial economy(p. 113-14). As Eriksen analyzes in convincing detail, the church fundraising exchangerituals that women undertake have rendered women's part of the ceremonial economya reflection of the value they place on their form of action and its product, which is thesocial whole rather than the personification of a single (male) person. Just as UrapminSpirit women have developed a ritual that looks like the relationalist ritual of sacrificebut supports individualism, church women in Ranon have found a way to turnexchange rituals that look like those at the heart of the traditional, personification-oriented male ceremonial economy into performances that instead produce socialwholes.

31 Looked at from the point of view of how values have changed, Christianization has had

quite different effects in North Ambrym and Urapmin. In the former case, it haspromoted a less valued form of social action to the top of the value hierarchy, while inUrapmin it has introduced a wholly new value and set it in conflict with the value thatwas traditionally paramount. It is interesting to note, however, that for women in bothplaces the result has been similar in that women have been able to identify themselvesvery strongly with the currently most important religious value. Urapmin Spirit


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women are virtually the culture heroes of the new individualism, and this is why theyloom so large in the thoughts of both men and women in Urapmin. Church women inRanon have been able to set themselves at the very center of the community's mostimportant social institution—the church—by making it one that expresses their values.There are differences in women's positions that follow from the nature of the values inplay in the two cases. The Ranon emphasis on creating social wholes has given womenstrong institutional bases for their rising cultural importance in the form of the churchand its women's group. The Spirit women, as befits the individualism they embody andwork to extend, do not have such an institutional home. Although it is an argument fora different article, we probably see different kinds of Christianity with differentecclesiologies at work here (roughly Presbyterian, with its institutional emphasis onorganizing churches into larger wholes, and Congregationalist, with less emphasis oninstitution building) as much as we see indigenous differences driving divergent pathsof change. In the context of the current argument, what is more important to note isthat although it has done it in different ways, in both Urapmin and RanonChristianization has transformed the way women are positioned in relation to theircultures' dominant values. A brief look at a third case, one in which Christianity is notimportant, will help to put the import of this finding into perspective.

Passenger Women: Gender and Change in Huli

32 Wardlow (2006) has written an important study of gender and cultural change among

the Huli of Southern Highlands Province, PNG. Although there are Christians amongthe 90,000 Huli, Christianity does not figure importantly in Wardlow's account of theirhistory or current situation. Instead, she focuses on socioeconomic change and itseffect on gender relations. I will assume her choice of emphasis reflects the situation onthe ground in Huli, in the sense that socioeconomic changes and the cultural changesassociated with them are more important in accounting for contemporary Huli lifethan are religious changes. This makes Wardlow's account an interesting contrast tomy own and Eriksen's in that it allows us to speculate about what happens to womenwhen modernizing changes occur without significant Christian input.

33 The socioeconomic situation in Huli is complex. Although subsistence gardening is still

central to the lives of most Huli families, male out-migration to work for wages reachesextremely high levels (up to 45% of males between the ages of 20 and 39 are sometimesgone—Wardlow, 2006: 59), and the cash economy is an important part of Huli life.Although Wardlow does not conduct her analysis in terms of values or use the term“relationalism”, it is not difficult to read her account of economic change in Huli as onein which a traditional emphasis on making relationships, and on the ways in whichrelationships constitute the person, is being challenged by the market economy'sindividualism. Their situation is thus like that of the Urapmin in important respects,with relationalism and individualism coming into conflict and people struggling topromote one or the other value as preeminent in various domains.

34 Against the background of her analysis of the rising importance of the market economy

in Huli, Wardlow's (2006) ethnography focuses on those women, known as “passengerwomen”, who leave home and have sex with many partners, often for money. Drawingon Wardlow's account, I will argue in this section that passenger women see their turnto sex work as a protest against the failure of their families to realize the value of


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relationalism by ensuring that justice has been upheld for the relationships thatconstitute their daughters, particularly the relationships surrounding marriage. 6

35 In order to understand the motivations of the passenger women, and their connection

to relationalism, it is necessary to consider how marriages are made in Huli. In Huli,marriages are completed by a gift of pigs, often as many as thirty, as bridewealth givenby the side of the groom to the side of the bride. Bridewealth payments are at the verycenter of the Huli relational world (Wardlow, 2006: 167). Since bridewealth involves somany pigs, men who want to marry have to realize or further draw on many of theirpre-existing relationships to gather the needed amount. When the daughters thatresult from their marriages get married in turn, these men will pay back those whohelped them with the pigs they receive for her. At the same time, the payment ofbridewealth legitimates the marriage, insuring that the children that result will befirmly fixed in the relational webs of their parents and creating important affinalrelations between the kin of the groom and those of the bride. Finally, once a womanmarries and her father is able to pay back those who helped with his bridewealthpayment, her brothers are able to ask others for help assembling bridewealth paymentsof their own, hence further extending their own relational world and that of their kin.

36 Touching on so many relationships, bridewealth is central to the lives of everyone in

Huli. But for women, it has a special meaning. Both Huli men and women say that“women are for bridewealth”, suggesting that generating bridewealth throughmarriage is a key moment in a woman's life (p. 151). As Wardlow (p. 25) puts it,“women's sense of self-value is shaped by bridewealth, and it is difficult for mostwomen to imagine legitimate female personhood outside the bridewealth system.”

37 A crucial finding of Wardlow's study is that women become sex workers when they feel

that those to whom they are related—and men in particular—do not work to maintainthem or their sisters within the bridewealth system by demanding that appropriateexchanges be made for them. These neglected exchanges take several forms. If awoman has premarital sexual relations with a man or is sexually assaulted, her fatheror brothers should demand either that the man involved marry her and paybridewealth, or that he make a lesser payment that will supplement the potentiallysmaller bridewealth she will command when she marries someone else. Once a womanis married and her father and brothers have distributed her bridewealth, they shouldalso continue to honor their relationships to her, supporting her if her husband isviolent to her or irresponsible. A husband, for his part, should treat marriage as animportant relationship in its own right, nourishing it with a steady stream of gifts tohis wife and children.

38 These days, with men out-migrating to find work and with cash having become more

important for making all kinds of purchases, men often fail to honor the demands ofthe bridewealth system at one or more of these points. Fathers and brothers, who areeither absent or do not feel they can muster enough of a fighting force to press theirclaims, sometimes do not demand compensation for premarital sexual relations orattacks. Nor do they always support their daughters against their husbands, leadingmany women to accuse them of “treating them like a market”, which is to say sellingthem like a good that one has no interest in once it has been paid for. The increasingsubstitution of cash for pigs in bridewealth payments, women feel, only exacerbatesthis problem, since debts established with cash tend to create less lasting relationshipsthan those of pigs and hence allow a woman's bridewealth to sink from people's


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memory too quickly. Furthermore, husbands who are familiar with the cash economy,and often away themselves, sometimes treat their wives as if they are things whichthey have purchased with cash, rather than persons with whom they are constituted ina relationship. They give little, demand much, and when their wives complain theyprotest that they have paid for them and can thus treat them how they want. Often, itseems, they resort to violence, which is made even worse for the woman involvedwhen, as mentioned above, their fathers and brothers do not come to their aid.

39 Women who have been disappointed in one or more of these ways become enraged, and

it is such rage, they say, that leads some of them to take up sex work. The logic of thismove is as follows: if the men in their lives refuse to help maintain the relationalproductivity of their sexuality and reproductive power within the bridewealth system,they will remove it from that system altogether and put it to use in enrichingthemselves. The men who turn their backs on the system are already pursuing theirown individual pleasures at the expense of their relationships with their daughters,sisters, and wives, so when the women who stand in such relationships to them deploytheir sexuality to similar ends, it is a case of turnabout as fair play. Note, however, thatthis turnabout is not a simple abandonment of the bridewealth system, for it onlymakes sense in relation to that system. As Wardlow (p. 150) notes, when womenbecome sex workers, they do so because they are angry at the “failure of their kin topursue traditional justice.” That justice, as should be clear at this point, is a justice thatconsists in realizing, creating, and maintaining specific relationships tied to thebridewealth system: those of parents and children, siblings, affines, and spouses. Thecrucial place of relationships in this model of justice is driven home by Wardlow'sobservation that while women become angry when they are attacked sexually or inother ways, it is when their kin fail to make the relationships involved right bydemanding recompense for the damage done to those relationships by the attack thatthis anger turns to the kind of rage that leads women to become sex-workers (p. 147).The institution of sex-work, then, is some women's response to their inability to realizerelational values in a world more and more defined by the market and its individualistmodels of the good life.

40 In rebelling against the failure of the traditional social system structured by the value

of relationalism, passenger women align themselves with that value and appear asconservative figures, unlike women from Ranon and Urapmin, both of whom alignthemselves with processes of change. One reason this might be so is that the new valueof individualism has not as fully reorganized the socioeconomic sphere in Huli as thenew values of individualism and female models of action have in the religious sphere ofUrapmin and Ranon respectively. There is more of a traditional order for women todefend in Huli than there is (at least in the religious domain) in the other two places.But the absence of a strong Christian input in the Huli case also seems likely to havecontributed to its specificity. For in both of the other cases, it is Christianity that hasencouraged women to understand themselves differently than they did in the past,something socioeconomic ideologies have not done for Huli women—at least not inways they value. I do not have the space or data here to detail all of the waysChristianity has done this, but the stark difference between the way change haseffected women in Huli and the way it has done so in Urapmin and Ranon indicates thepromise of future research along these lines.


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Conclusion

41 In this paper, I have looked at the influence of Christianization on women's lives. I have

done so through the lens of an approach to cultural change that defines changes incultural values as central to processes of cultural transformation. Changes in values cantake at least two different forms: new values can be introduced or the hierarchicalrelations between traditional ones can be rearranged. But in both cases it is thechanges in values, I would suggest, that steer the direction of other changes. In the twocases of Christianization in PNG that I have examined, processes of value change haveallowed women to occupy a place more closely aligned with their cultures' core valuesthan they were able to before conversion. Urapmin Spirit women have done this byrealizing more fully than others the individualist ideal, and by leading the battleagainst the nature spirits' efforts to enforce now less favored relationalist ideals. InRanon, a consonance between women's traditional values and the values of theChristianity the missionaries introduced to their society opened up the opportunity forthem to shift their values from a subordinated to a paramount place in their culture.The Huli case was one in which women have not succeeded in identifying with a newvalue, and thus find themselves militating for the maintenance of traditional valuesand the system of gender relations they underwrote. Their case served as a negativeexample meant to reinforce the claim that Christianity, as opposed to simply“modernizing” cultural change in general, can be seen to open up systems of genderrelations to creative change in which women are able to align themselves withparamount values. It is hoped that with this point in mind this article can both be readas indicating the utility of the analysis of change based on value, and can stimulatefurther research into the ways Christianity is transforming gender relations inMelanesia.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BARTH Fredrik, 1975, Ritual and Knowledge among the Baktaman of New Guinea, New Haven, Yale

University Press.

BONNEMERE Pascale (ed.), 2004a, Women as Unseen Characters: Male Ritual in Papua New Guinea,

Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press.

—, 2004b, “Introduction—The Presence of Women in New Guinea Secret Male Rituals: From Ritual

Space to Ritual Process”, in P. Bonnemere (ed.), Women as Unseen Characters: Male Ritual in Papua

New Guinea, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, p. 1-15.

CHODOROW Nancy, 1989, Feminism and Psychoanalytic Theory, New Haven, Yale University Press.

ERIKSEN Annelin, 2008, Gender, Christianity and Change in Vanuatu. An Analysis of Social Movements in

North Ambrym, Aldershot, Ashgate.

GARDNER D. S., 1987, “Spirits and Conceptions of Agency among the Mianmin of Papua New

Guinea”, Oceania 57-3, p. 161-177.


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KNAUFT Bruce M., 2004, “Relating to Women: Female Presence in Melanesian ‘Male Cults’”, in P.

Bonnemere (ed.), Women as Unseen Characters: Male Ritual in Papua New Guinea, Philadelphia,

University of Pennsylvania Press, p. 179-200.

JORGENSEN Dan, 1981b, Taro and Arrows. Order, Entropy, and Religion among the Telefolmin, Ph. D.,

University of British Columbia.

KEANE Webb, 2007, Christian Moderns. Freedom and Fetish in the Mission Encounter, Berkeley,


LEWIS, I. M., 2003 (1971), Ecstatic Religion. A Study of Shamanism and Spirit Possession, London,

Routledge.

MAXWELL David, 1999, Christians and Chiefs in Zimbabwe. A Social History of the Hwesa People,

Westport, Connecticut, Praeger.

ROBBINS Joel, 1995, “Dispossessing the Spirits. Christian Transformations of Desire and Ecology

among the Urapmin of Papua New Guinea”, Ethnology, 34-3, p. 211-224.

—, 2001, “God is Nothing But Talk. Modernity, Language and Prayer in a Papua New Guinea

Society”, American Anthropologist, 103-4, p. 901-912.

—, 2004a, Becoming Sinners. Christianity and Moral Torment in a Papua New Guinea Society, Berkeley,


—, 2004b, “The Globalization of Pentecostal and Charismatic Christianity”, Annual Review of

Anthropology, 33, p. 117-143.

—, 2007, “You Can't Talk Behind the Holy Spirit's Back, Christianity and Changing Language

Ideologies in a Papua New Guinea Society”, in Makihara M., Schieffelin B. B. (eds.), Consequences of

Contact, Language Ideologies and Sociocultural Transformations in Pacific Societies, New York, Oxford

University Press, p. 125-139.

—, 2008, “On Not Knowing Other Minds, Confession, Intention, and Linguistic Exchange in a

Papua New Guinea Community”, Anthropological Quarterly, 81-2, p. 421-429.

—, 2009, “Conversion, Hierarchy, and Cultural Change: Value and Syncretism in the Globalization

of Pentecostal and Charismatic Christianity”, in K. M. Rio and O. H. Smedel (eds), Hierarchy:

Persistence and Transformation in Social Formations, New York, Berghahn Books, p. 65-88.

SCHIEFFELIN Bambi B., 2007, “Found in Translating: Reflexive Language across Time and Texts”, in

Makihara M., Schieffelin B. B. (eds.), Consequences of Contact, Language Ideologies and Sociocultural

Transformations in Pacific Societies, New York, Oxford University Press, p. 140-165.

STRATHERN Marilyn, 1988, The Gender of the Gift: Problems with Women and Problems with Society in

Melanesia, Berkeley, University of California Press.

WARDLOW Holly, 2006, Wayward Women: Sexuality and Agency in a New Guinea Society, Berkeley,


WOODHEAD Linda, 2001, “Feminism and the Sociology of Religion: From Gender Blindness to

Gendered Difference”, in Fenn R. K. (ed.), The Blackwell Companion to the Sociology of Religion,

Oxford, Blackwell, p. 67-84.

NOTES

1. In the section of this article discussing the Urapmin, terms in the Urap language are given in

italics while those in Tok Pisin, the primary lingua franca of Papua New Guinea, are underlined.


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2. Probably the oldest Urapmin man alive at the time of my fieldwork had formerly been a

diviner of this type. To my eye he was a striking figure—among other things, he was the last man

in the community who continued to wear traditional cassowary quill nose ornaments. Yet others

treated him primarily as a kindly old man—respected but with no air of sanctity about him. This

contrasted with their treatment of former men's cult leaders, who they held to be formidable

characters. This in part informs my assessment of the relatively minor place of traditional

diviners, as does the very small role they play in ethnographies of other groups in the Min region

that describe pre-conversion life in detail.

3. Important recent work in other areas of Papua New Guinea has begun to complicate the

received picture of men's cults as religious institutions that completely exclude women as key

participants (Bonnemere 2004a). As Bonnemere (2004b: 8) notes, this new work has not yet

included detailed discussions of any groups in the Min (Mountain Ok) region. Both Bonnemere

(2004b: 8) and Knauft (2004: 197) point out that in many societies in which the practice of men's

initiation rituals have been discontinued, it is now difficult to collect material on women's

participation in them. This was the case during my Urapmin fieldwork. My account, however, is

based on what I was able to learn about traditional religion and on what I know from regional

ethnography, which suggests that women were not central participants. In the comparative

spirit of this article, it would be interesting if someone who has experience working in an area

where more extensive participation by women in men's rituals has been documented might

compare the way gender ideas have been transformed there with the cases I present here.

4. I once attended a mixed-sex discussion after a church service focused on the question of why

more women and young people were not preaching. Since church members were convinced that

the last days were soon to arrive, many church leaders felt women and young people should

preach to strengthen the faith both of the community and of themselves. As the discussion

developed, people began to make a novel distinction between “good shame”, which helps prevent

people from doing things they should not do, and “bad shame”, which, more akin to English

“shyness”, keeps people from doing things they should do (e.g. preach). It is in such

conversations that much of the conceptual work of Christian egalitarianism gets done in

Urapmin, leaving its behavioral correlates to trail, often somewhat slowly, in their wake.

5. I have discussed nature spirits and sacrifice in these terms more fully in Robbins 2009. I also

consider there the import of the fact that Spirit women do sometimes call for sacrifice—an issue I

cannot consider in this paper.

6. Wardlow (2004) compellingly uses her data to complicate scholarly uses of the term “sex

work”, but I will retain that term here, as she sometimes does herself, for ease of exposition.

ABSTRACTS

As anthropologists increasingly study Christianity in Melanesia, data has become available which

allow us to address comparative questions about its differential impact in various societies of the

region. In this article, I look at how conversion to Christianity has transformed women's roles in

one society in Papua New Guinea and one in Vanuatu. In particular, I examine what Christian

values have meant for the construction of new gender roles. In addition, I compare changes in

women's roles in these two Christianized societies to the situation in another rapidly changing

Papua New Guinea society where Christianization is not a dominant social trend in order to

explore how Christianity might be seen to align women with culturally dominant values in ways


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other kinds of cultural change do not. In the course of the article, I also consider what my

analysis has to say about the value of comparing Christian societies across the Melanesian region

for the broader project of theorizing the role of religion in shaping contemporary social

transformations in this region and beyond.

Les anthropologues étudiant de plus en plus le christianisme en Mélanésie, nous disposons

désormais des données permettant de questionner, d'un point de vue comparatif, les effets

différenciés du christianisme dans plusieurs sociétés de la région. Dans cet article, je m'intéresse

à la manière dont la conversion au christianisme a transformé le rôle des femmes dans une

société de Papouasie Nouvelle-Guinée et dans une autre au Vanuatu. J'examine plus

particulièrement ce qu'ont signifié les valeurs chrétiennes pour la construction de nouveaux

rôles de genre. En outre, je compare les changements des rôles des femmes dans ces deux sociétés

christianisées avec la situation d'une autre société de Papouasie Nouvelle-Guinée où les

changements sont rapides mais où la christianisation n'est pas la tendance sociale dominante.

Cette comparaison vise à préciser dans quelle mesure on peut considérer que le christianisme

place les femmes en affinité avec les valeurs culturellement dominantes, tandis qu'un autre type

de changement culturel ne produit pas cet effet. Dans le cours de l'article, je me penche

également sur ce que mon analyse nous dit quant à l'intérêt d'une comparaison entre différentes

sociétés chrétiennes de Mélanésie, dans le cadre d'un projet plus large de théorisation du rôle

que joue la religion dans les processus de transformation observables dans cette région et au-

delà.

Dado que los antropólogos estudian cada vez más el cristianismo en Melanesia, disponemos ya de

datos que permiten interrogar, desde una perspectiva comparativa, los efectos diferenciados del

cristianismo en varias sociedades de la región. En este artículo, me inclinaré en la manera en la

que la conversión al cristianismo ha transformado el rol de las mujeres en una sociedad de

Papuasia Nueva Guinea y en otra en Vanuatu. Examinaré más particularmente lo que significaron

los valores cristianos para la construcción de nuevos roles de género. Además, compararé los

cambios de los roles de las mujeres en estas dos sociedades cristianizadas con la situación de otra

sociedad de Papuasia Nueva Guinea, en la cual los cambios son rápidos pero donde la

cristianización no es la tendencia social dominante. Esta comparación apunta a precisar hasta

dónde se puede considerar que el cristianismo ubica a las mujeres en afinidad con los valores

culturalmente dominantes, mientras que otro tipo de cambio cultural no produce este efecto. En

el curso del artículo, me inclino igualmente por aquello que mi análisis nos dice en cuanto al

interés de una comparación entre diferentes sociedades cristianas de Melanesia, en el marco de

un proyecto más amplio de teorización del rol que juega la religión en el proceso de

transformación observable en esta región y más allá.

INDEX

Palabras claves: cambio cultural, cristianismo, género, Melanesia, valor

Mots-clés: changement culturel, christianisme, genre, Mélanésie, valeur

Keywords: Christianity, Cultural Change, Gender, Melanesia, value

AUTHOR

JOEL ROBBINS

University of California, San Diego, [email protected]


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Les protestantismes polynésiens àl'épreuve du genreL'exemple de l'Église presbytérienne de Nouvelle-Zélande

The Polynesian Protestantisms gendered. The Case of the Presbyterian Church of

New Zealand

El protestantismo polinesio y el desafío del género. El caso de la iglesia

presbiteriana de Nueva Zelanda

Gwendoline Malogne-Fer

Introduction

1 La Nouvelle-Zélande, ancienne colonie de peuplement britannique, s'est constituée, à

partir de la seconde moitié du XIXe siècle, par vagues d'immigration successives en

provenance de Grande-Bretagne, d'Irlande et d'Écosse, les Pākehā (Néo-zélandaisd'origine occidentale) devenant plus nombreux que les Maori (Autochtones). Lesmigrations plus récentes, de Polynésiens et d'Asiatiques, ont contribué à renforcer lerôle de l'immigration dans la constitution de la nation néo-zélandaise. La particularitédes migrants polynésiens est de partager avec les Pākehā un héritage religieuxcommun : le christianisme.

2 L'évangélisation des îles de Polynésie au début du XIXe siècle est en effet l'œuvre des

missionnaires protestants britanniques de la London Missionary Society (LMS) et deconvertis polynésiens, suivant la stratégie de la native agency (Lange, 2005 : 62-101).C'est dans la rencontre entre les cultures polynésiennes et les exigences morales desmissions protestantes que s'est construit, au cours du XIXe siècle, un modèle de division

sexuée du travail religieux. L'obligation pour les hommes pasteurs et missionnairesd'être mariés a en effet contribué à l'émergence du modèle du couple pastoral ou ducouple missionnaire au sein duquel l'épouse exerce (sans être consacrée ou ordonnée) unrôle décisif dans l'apprentissage des rôles domestiques d'épouses et de mères


109

chrétiennes auprès des autres femmes. Analysant la contribution des femmesautochtones à l'évangélisation des îles d'Océanie, l'historien Raeburn Lange écrit ainsi :

As models of Christian marital and family life, married couples were agents of thesocial reforms that it was understood would flow from conversion to the new faith.Having a wife to support and encourage him was an important factor in theeffectiveness of a man's ministry and (the missions hoped) it would help keep himfaithful to the required sexual code. Beyond this role as an adjunct to maleministry, however, a woman could not serve as a man did... the exclusion of womenfrom formal ministry status (but not from church membership or active informalministry) simply replicated what was usual in the missionaries' own home churches(Lange, 2005 : 318).

3 Deux siècles après l'évangélisation des îles d'Océanie, le modèle privilégié

d'engagement ministériel des femmes polynésiennes dans les Églisescongrégationalistes issues de la LMS reste celui de l'épouse qui s'implique entièrementdans le ministère pastoral de son mari. Comment expliquer dès lors que l'opposition àl'ordination des femmes polynésiennes soit désormais considérée en Nouvelle-Zélandecomme une spécificité culturelle polynésienne et non comme un héritage des missionsbritanniques ?

4 Du fait des fortes migrations de Polynésiens en Nouvelle-Zélande – Auckland est

désormais la plus grande ville polynésienne au monde – et d'une tradition féministed'inspiration chrétienne – la Nouvelle-Zélande est le premier pays à avoir octroyé ledroit de vote aux femmes en 1893 notamment grâce à la mobilisation des ligues detempérance – l'accès des femmes polynésiennes au pastorat en Nouvelle-Zélandesoulève aujourd'hui des enjeux particuliers. La féminisation du pastorat y est vu, aumoins implicitement, par ses opposants polynésiens comme une remise en cause ducouple pastoral et de la hiérarchie des sexes qui la sous-tend ; en d'autres termes l'accèsdes femmes au pastorat traduirait une stricte inversion des rôles qui « rabaisserait » lemari de la femme pasteure. Du côté pākehā, l'argument culturel est le plus souvent misen avant : la domination masculine serait une spécificité des îles de Polynésie. Lesfemmes pasteures polynésiennes en Nouvelle-Zélande soulignent quant à elles quel'inégalité des sexes est davantage le résultat de la colonisation et de l'évangélisationalors même que la promotion de l'égalité des sexes a servi d'argument légitimant la« mission civilisatrice » des sociétés missionnaires (Johnston, 2003) et des politiquescoloniales.

5 Le genre n'est donc pas un simple objet d'étude, il est « un élément constitutif de

rapports sociaux fondés sur des différences perçues entre les sexes, et le genre est unefaçon première de signifier des rapports de pouvoir » (Scott, 1988 : 141). Le genre nedevient une catégorie d'analyse heuristique qu'en intégrant l'articulation des différentsrapports sociaux 1. Les études articulant migrations et genre s'attachent ainsi à mettreen évidence les effets d'émancipation ou de stabilisation des normes de genre enmigration mais aussi à comprendre comment les migrantes s'appuient sur des normestraditionnelles pour les remettre progressivement en question 2. L'adoption d'uneperspective de genre permet en outre de mettre en évidence, au-delà d'une supposéehomogénéité des communautés transnationales, les tensions entre génération et genrequi traversent ces communautés, liées aux enjeux de transmission et de renégociationidentitaires (Azria et Saint-Blancat, 2010 : 255). De nouvelles formes d'autoritéreligieuse liées aux migrations apparaissent, les jeunes Polynésiens nés et/ou socialisés


110

en Nouvelle-Zélande privilégiant le registre de l'expérience personnelle et le refus del'encadrement ecclésial traditionnel (Malogne-Fer, 2009).

6 L'objectif de cet article est d'analyser l'articulation entre identification culturelle,

égalité des sexes et clivages intergénérationnels à travers l'accès des femmes aupastorat dans les paroisses polynésiennes de l'Église presbytérienne de Nouvelle-Zélande 3. En Nouvelle-Zélande l'accès des femmes au pastorat dans les Églisesprotestantes mainline date des années 1950-1960. Depuis une vingtaine d'annéesd'autres Églises protestantes des îles de Polynésie autorisent également l'ordination desfemmes 4. En revanche, les Églises congrégationalistes de Samoa et des îles Cook, quiont implanté de nombreuses paroisses en Nouvelle-Zélande, sont toujours opposées aupastorat des femmes. En Nouvelle-Zélande les femmes pasteures originaires de Samoaet des îles Cook ont donc une position originale dans la mesure où l'ordination desfemmes n'est pas autorisée dans leur Église congrégationaliste d'origine. En Nouvelle-Zélande, les femmes polynésiennes n'exercent pas, pour la plupart d'entre elles, leurministère dans des paroisses polynésiennes : elles sont pasteures de paroisses dePākehā (Néo-zélandais d'origine occidentale) ou se voient attribuer un ministère non-paroissial. Il s'agira donc de mettre au jour – au-delà des différences culturellesmobilisées pour expliquer l'inégalité des sexes – le contexte dans lequel la valorisationde ces différences culturelles s'inscrit, la spécificité des parcours de ces femmespasteures et les différentes stratégies adoptées par ces femmes pour faire face auxmécanismes de disqualification.

1. Migrations et pratiques religieuses des PacificPeoples en Nouvelle-Zélande

7 Les Pacific Islanders ou Pacific Peoples, originaires des îles du Pacifique, principalement

des îles de Polynésie (Samoa, îles Cook, Tonga, Niue, Tokelau et Tuvalu) ont commencéà émigrer en Nouvelle-Zélande à partir de la fin de la seconde guerre mondiale. En 2006les Pacific Peoples représentaient 6,9 % de la population de Nouvelle-Zélande, soit266 000 personnes concentrées en milieu urbain – 80 % d'entre eux vivent à Aucklandou Wellington 5. Les Pacific Peoples ne forment pas un groupe homogène : le termeregroupe des personnes originaires d'îles différentes qui s'identifient d'abord commeSamoans, Cook Islanders etc. Les travaux de Cluny Macpherson soulignent néanmoinsque les clivages au sein des Pacific Peoples sont désormais moins « ethniques »qu'intergénérationnels : les Pacific Peoples nés et scolarisés en Nouvelle-Zélande (quiconstituent 60 % des Pacific Peoples) connaissent une mobilité socio-économiqueascendante, sont plus à l'aise en anglais qu'en langues polynésiennes et partagent unemême culture transpolynésienne qui les différencie à la fois de leurs parents et desPākehā (Macpherson, 2004 : 143).

8 Les migrations des Pacific Peoples s'inscrivent dans un paysage religieux néo-zélandais

en pleine mutation, caractérisé par des dynamiques de sécularisation, de pluralisationintraprotestante et d'affirmations des identités culturelles. Le maintien de la pratiquereligieuse des Pacific Peoples est d'autant plus perceptible que celle des Pākehā est enforte baisse 6. Dans ce contexte néo-zélandais de christianisme désormais minoritaire,la progression des Églises pentecôtistes/charismatiques et des courants évangéliquesau sein des Églises protestantes mainline apparaît d'autant plus significative. Cettevisibilité s'est renforcée autour de la mobilisation contre l'ordination des gays et


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lesbiennes, qui a su agréger des personnes d'horizons divers autour de la défense des« valeurs familiales » (Malogne-Fer, 2010).

9 Les migrations des Pacific Peoples en Nouvelle-Zélande ont été accompagnées d'une

implantation de paroisses polynésiennes appelées Pacific Islanders Churches (PIC) quiillustrent une tentative de compromis entre une reproduction à l'identique des Églisescongrégationalistes des îles d'origine et une nécessaire adaptation au contexte néo-zélandais.

10 En 1946, à l'initiative d'un missionnaire de la LMS aux îles Cook, des cultes en langues

polynésiennes, ressemblant fortement à ceux des îles d'origine, sont, pour la premièrefois, organisés dans la paroisse congrégationaliste néo-zélandaise de Newton àAuckland 7. L'organisation des PIC a la particularité de regrouper différentescommunautés linguistiques, chacune d'entre elles formant une congrégation dirigéepar un pasteur. Ce modèle organisationnel se diffuse au cours des années 1950-1960dans les autres villes néo-zélandaises. En 1969, la fusion entre les Églisespresbytérienne et congrégationaliste de Nouvelle-Zélande débouche sur lerattachement des paroisses polynésiennes à l'Église presbytérienne. Cette intégration asuscité des tensions, les paroisses polynésiennes continuant à revendiquer unfonctionnement congrégationaliste selon lequel l'Église locale reste la principaleinstance décisionnelle, choisit son pasteur et est propriétaire du bâtiment religieux. Àpartir des années 1970 l'importance grandissante des Pacific Peoples nés et scolarisés enNouvelle-Zélande qui n'ont pas une excellente maîtrise des langues polynésiennes,remet en cause la politique linguistique des PIC. Un culte en langue anglaise est donccréé, à destination des plus jeunes quelle que soit leur communauté d'origine, qui vients'ajouter aux différents cultes en langues polynésiennes.

11 Au cours des années 1980-1990, l'Église presbytérienne, désormais composée de Maori,

Pākehā, Polynésiens et Asiatiques, adopte une politique d'institutionnalisation dumulticulturalisme. Dans cette perspective, la création du Pacific Islanders Synod (PIS) à lafin des années 1990 vise une meilleure intégration des Polynésiens dans les instancesreprésentatives et décisionnelles de l'Église. Néanmoins, 10 ans après sa création le PISa du mal à trouver sa place au sein de l'Église. Plusieurs interrogations subsistent quandà sa représentativité (le PIS ne représente pas toutes les PIC, chaque Église locale PICétant libre d'y adhérer ou non), l'étendue de ses prérogatives et son organisationinterne. Le synode reste cantonné à un rôle consultatif en matière d'expertiseculturelle alors que les pasteurs polynésiens souhaitaient mettre en avant une« spécificité culturelle » pour obtenir une autonomie juridique au sein de l'Église. Le PISse caractérise également par une fragmentation interne à travers la mise en place decinq groupes « ethniques » distincts.

12 Ces difficultés de fonctionnement du synode polynésien et la non reconnaissance du

groupe de langue anglaise comme groupe « authentiquement » polynésien soulignentles tensions entre générations liées aux enjeux de transmission et de redéfinitionidentitaire. Les représentants des groupes de langue anglaise revendiquent une identitépolynésienne dissociée de la pratique d'une langue polynésienne et refusent une visionessentialiste de cultures polynésiennes qui seraient exclusivement définies par lesanciens, comme le note Melani Anae à propos des Samoans nés en Nouvelle-Zélande :

It is also clear that the construction of a NZ-Born [New Zealand Born] identity bythe ESG [English Speaking Group] of Newton PIC counteracts stereotypic images ofNZ-born Samoans [...] Samoans who are losing their culture—stereotypes created byboth papalagi [pākehā] and island-born Samoans who are in positions of authority


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within the PIC Church structure. [...] The Church elite of traditional Samoan leadersand ministers also stand to gain much more status in the new proposed structure ofthe PIC Synod in cultural or traditional terms [...] The irony of this all is that thestereotypes created by wider New Zealand society that are in line withassimilationist/integrative models and notions which state that culture, in this casethe fa'aSamoa [la coutume samoane], is static, are being perpetuated by island-bornSamoans and elders. [...] Moreover fa'aSamoa in New Zealand is said to be in a stateof “decline”, thus enabling them to designate NZ-borns as “papalagi” or “notSamoan” [...] My research shows that some NZ-born Samoans can attain securedidentities and can make informed decisions about the construction of “self” thusbecoming much “healthier” members of wider New Zealand society, and their ownaiga [family], church and community groups—as Samoans who are not born inSamoa but in New Zealand (1997 : 134-136).

13 Ces enjeux identitaires sont d'autant plus importants que les leaders des PIC et du PIS

sont désormais concurrencés par des paroisses congrégationalistes directementrattachées aux « Églises mères » de Samoa et des îles Cook qui se positionnent engardiennes de l'authenticité culturelle et doctrinale et conservent une organisationcongrégationaliste traditionnelle, notamment les cultes en langues polynésiennes, et ladirection de la paroisse par un couple pastoral, en d'autres termes le refus del'ordination des femmes.

2. Les femmes pasteures polynésiennes en Nouvelle-Zélande : « Nul n'est prophète dans son propre pays »

14 Les migrations des Pacific Peoples en Nouvelle-Zélande s'organisent autour de « chaînes

migratoires » qui placent les relations de parenté au cœur des migrations, les membresinstallés en Nouvelle-Zélande étant chargés de financer le voyage, de trouver un emploiaux autres membres de la famille venus des îles (MacPherson, 2004 : 137-138). Dans cecontexte de migrations familiales, les spécificités des migrations féminines sontdifficiles à évaluer. Les données statistiques relatives aux Pacific Peoples vivant enNouvelle-Zélande soulignent néanmoins trois points essentiels : une relative stabilitédu modèle familial, un accès important au système éducatif secondaire et universitaire,enfin un accès au marché du travail.

15 Lors du recensement de 2001, le pourcentage de Pacific Peoples vivant au sein d'une

famille élargie restait élevé, comparativement au reste de la population néo-zélandaise(respectivement 29 % et 8 %). Le faible taux de divorce chez les Pacific Peoples et letemps important consacré bénévolement à s'occuper d'un enfant ou d'un parentmalade soulignent également une forte valorisation des relations familiales. Lesfemmes constituent 50,8 % des Pacific Peoples, elles sont plus qualifiées ou diplôméesque les hommes (55 % des Pacific Peoples diplômés de l'enseignement supérieur sont desfemmes). En revanche, elles sont plus nombreuses à occuper un emploi à temps partiel(29 %) ou à être touchées par le chômage (18 %) que les hommes (respectivement 14 %et 15 %) 8. Ces femmes sont le plus souvent employées et travaillent dans les services oule commerce. Mais alors que les femmes polynésiennes peuvent désormais, grâce auxétudes supérieures, accéder aux professions les plus prestigieuses, en devenantavocates, médecins ou professeures, celles qui deviennent pasteures doivent faire face àdes mécanismes spécifiques de discrimination. Pourtant les Églises congrégationalistes


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et presbytériennes de Nouvelle-Zélande ont autorisé l'accès des femmes au pastoratdepuis 1951 et 1965 9.

16 Au-delà leurs singularités, les parcours des femmes pasteures polynésiennes se

caractérisent par une forte socialisation religieuse, une vocation pastorale difficilementreconnue, enfin l'impossibilité d'exercer leur ministère dans une paroissepolynésienne 10.

17 Toutes ces femmes pasteures ont grandi dans une famille protestante très croyante et

pratiquante – certaines ont un père pasteur ou elder – et ont participé enfant etadolescente aux différentes activités paroissiales : école du dimanche, groupe desjeunes, chorale etc.

18 Parmi les dix femmes rencontrées, trois sont filles de pasteurs et cinq sont filles de

elders ou anciens. Sur ces dix femmes, sept sont nées et ont grandi en Nouvelle-Zélande.Parmi ces dernières, toutes ont fréquenté, enfant et adolescente, une PIC et notammentles groupes de langue anglaise au sein desquels nombre d'entre elles ont connu uneexpérience personnelle de conversion (born again). Celles qui se sont impliquées en tantque responsable du groupe des jeunes ont déjà été confrontées à une organisationparoissiale hiérarchisée et contrôlée par les anciens. Cette forte socialisation religieuses'accompagne donc d'une première prise de distance par rapport au fonctionnementtraditionnel des PIC.

19 La volonté de devenir pasteur pourrait être interprétée comme une simple étape

supplémentaire traduisant, pour ces jeunes filles qui « ont grandi dans l'Église », lavolonté de poursuivre, à un autre niveau, leur engagement en paroisse. Dans uncontexte où seuls les hommes étaient en position de leadership (pasteurs et elders), ilapparaît néanmoins difficile pour ces jeunes filles de faire entièrement abstraction ducaractère sexué des activités paroissiales. Et pour celles qui feraient preuve d'unoptimisme excessif, les procédures de discernement des vocations interviennentcomme un rappel à l'ordre.

20 La confirmation de la vocation pastorale de ces jeunes filles, difficilement reconnue par

les pasteurs de leur paroisse d'origine, vient le plus souvent d'un membre de la famille(niveau infra-paroissial) ou de la réussite à l'examen d'entrée au collège théologique del'Église presbytérienne et de l'octroi d'une bourse d'études (niveau supra-paroissial). Lavocation apparaît in fine comme le produit d'un dialogue continu entre soi, Dieu et sonentourage direct (familial ou paroissial) qui doit nécessairement déboucher sur une ouplusieurs confirmation(s). Au cœur de la vocation pastorale deux éléments sontdéterminants : l'implication dans les activités paroissiales et l'intervention d'une tiercepersonne (idéalement le pasteur) qui « lance » cette idée – qu'il conviendraultérieurement de s'approprier ou de « tester » en cherchant des preuves deconfirmation.

21 Nombreuses sont celles qui n'ont pas eu le soutien de leur pasteur pour suivre la

formation pastorale. En revanche les femmes nées en Nouvelle-Zélande sont fortementsoutenues par leurs parents, ces derniers plaçant la transmission de la foi protestanteet de la culture – intimement liées – au-dessus des normes de genre. La vocationintervient comme la reconnaissance de la validité de l'éducation religieuse qu'ils ontdonnée à leur(s) enfant(s). Elle est également la promesse d'une réussite sociale etscolaire – la formation pastorale nécessitant plusieurs années d'études universitaires.En focalisant leur attention sur la réussite scolaire de leurs enfants, les migrantspolynésiens de la première génération s'inscrivent implicitement dans une logique de


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« dépassement de genre », pour reprendre l'expression de Nicky Le Feuvre (2007), quientre dès lors en conflit avec les attentes paroissiales.

22 Si les futures femmes pasteures ne reçoivent pas le soutien de leur pasteur, plusieurs

stratégies sont possibles pour celles qui persévèrent : la plupart s'inscrivent en tant quecandidates individuelles à l'école pastorale – c'est-à-dire à « titre privé » grâce ausoutien financier de leurs parents ; d'autres entrent au collège théologique enaccompagnant leur mari également futur pasteur. Par la suite, l'acceptation de leurcandidature, l'octroi d'une bourse nationale et la réussite aux examens sont interprétéscomme la confirmation de leur vocation pastorale. Cette interprétation est d'autantplus fréquente que ces femmes estimaient ne pas avoir le niveau académique requispour entreprendre des études universitaires de théologie. Différentes études ontmontré le rôle « levier » des diplômes universitaires dans le processus d'accession desfemmes à des professions supérieures comme dans le cas en France des femmesingénieurs (Marry, 2004) et des professions juridiques (Le Feuvre et Walters, 1993). Defaçon comparable aux femmes pasteures en France étudiées par Jean-Paul Willaime, cesfemmes polynésiennes conjuguent ainsi réussite scolaire et forte socialisationreligieuse (Willaime, 1996). Néanmoins la légitimité octroyée par une formationacadémique diplômante n'est pas une condition suffisante à la féminisation dupastorat. L'émergence des vocations pastorales au sein de l'Église presbytériennemontre que c'est l'institution ecclésiale qui, au niveau national, prend le relais d'uneorganisation paroissiale qui n'a pas joué le rôle de discernement et d'encouragementdes vocations féminines. L'engagement dans le ministère pastoral n'illustre pas pources femmes une « imposition de la vocation pastorale » (Suaud, 1975) par l'institution :elles ne sont pas repérées par les clercs de la paroisse. En revanche leur vocationapparaît davantage comme une « subversion » (Sofio, 2007) par la mise en avant del'excellence scolaire et le recours à un autre échelon (national) de l'organisationecclésiale. En faisant valoir, sur le temps long, un « appel de Dieu » qui va à l'encontredu modèle pastoral traditionnel, ces femmes construisent un rapport ambigu àl'institution et au ministère.

23 Ces jeunes filles dont la vocation pastorale est difficilement reconnue par leur paroisse

d'origine ne sont par la suite jamais « appelées » par ces mêmes paroissespolynésiennes pour y exercer leur ministère.

L'exclusion des paroisses polynésiennes : un exil définitif ou

temporaire ?

24 Sur les 10 femmes pasteures rencontrées, aucune n'exerce dans une PIC alors que

c'était leur souhait 11. Cette exclusion est différemment interprétée selon l'anciennetédans le ministère pastoral : les plus jeunes conservent un optimisme mesuré tandis quecelles qui sont pasteures depuis 15 ou 20 ans réalisent progressivement que leur vœuinitial ne se concrétisera jamais.

25 L'exclusion des paroisses polynésiennes s'explique essentiellement par le mode

d'affectation : ce sont les paroisses qui, dans le cadre d'une procédure encadrée,choisissent (et rémunèrent) leur pasteur 12. Les paroisses polynésiennes « préfèrent »au moment de la sélection des candidats un homme marié d'origine polynésienne. Leplus souvent aucune explication n'est donnée. Alofa Lale résume cette situation en cestermes : « it just didn't happen ».


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They [the PIC of Dunedin] had already asked me if I would be available and I saidYes, they had just to call me and let me know... and then it just didn't happen... andthen I went to work at the University because a job came up here and so I could dothat for 6 months and my husband finished his training. And then it was really myhusband who approached the church that he would like... he felt that God wascalling him so it wasn't the church who called my husband. He said to them : I feelGod is calling me to be your minister and then they went through the process andthen they called him to be the minister. 13

26 Les propos d'Alofa soulignent un enchaînement d'éléments expliquant pourquoi c'est

son mari qui est devenu pasteur d'une PIC. L'affectation en paroisse étant interprétée –au moins formellement – comme un « appel de Dieu », le choix personnel d'uneparoisse précise est rarement assumé par les pasteurs qui préfèrent rappeler qu'ils sontdisponibles et prêts à aller « là où Dieu les appellera ». Luisa Fruean souligne ladifficulté de l'exercice : « we can not say “God, we don't want to go to a pākehāparish !” that's not right for us » 14. Mais cet « appel de Dieu » n'est pas le produit dupur hasard. Nimarota, le mari d'Alofa, prend ainsi l'initiative de contacter une paroissepolynésienne en précisant qu'il ressent « un appel » pour cette paroisse. La proximitégéographique et la parfaite maîtrise du samoan faisant de Nimarota un candidat idéalpour la PIC de Dunedin, il était difficile pour cette paroisse sans pasteur de ne pas y voirle signe de la providence. Alofa n'a pas pris cette initiative faisant confiance auxprocédures classiques de recrutement et considérant par ailleurs que c'était à laparoisse de faire les démarches. En d'autres termes, les femmes pasteures ne « forcentpas le destin » en prenant l'initiative de contacter directement une paroisse sachant desurcroît que cette initiative aura peu de chance d'aboutir. Considérant que l'essentielest acquis – leur ordination pastorale –, elles préfèrent exercer leur ministère dans unenvironnement où ce dernier est reconnu. Entre des paroisses qui n'appellent pas lesfemmes polynésiennes et ces dernières qui attendent une reconnaissance indispensableà l'exercice de leur ministère pastoral, les conditions ne sont donc pas réunies pourimpulser un changement significatif dans les paroisses polynésiennes.

27 Cette non-intégration dans les paroisses polynésiennes permet de garder intactes les

normes de genre. La féminisation ne se traduit pas par une dévalorisation du pastorat(Cacouault-Bitaud, 2001) mais, comme dans d'autres organisations religieuses(christianisme et judaïsme) étudiées par Béatrice de Gasquet aux États-Unis et enFrance, par des mécanismes de ségrégation horizontale ou verticale qui limitent laféminisation de la hiérarchie ecclésiale (2009). La bipolarisation des trajectoires selon lesexe permet, dans le même temps, aux hommes pasteurs polynésiens impliqués dans lePIS de redéfinir une identité culturelle et cléricale associée à des figures historiques ethéroïques, celles du missionnaire aventurier, profondément virilisées. Cette exclusiondes femmes pasteures des PIC ne peut cependant pas s'analyser uniquement en termesde discriminations de genre. Elle s'inscrit davantage à la croisée des rapports sociauxarticulant genre, génération et culture. En effet parmi les femmes d'originepolynésienne nées en Nouvelle-Zélande, toutes n'ont pas une excellente maîtrise d'unelangue polynésienne, critère indispensable pour exercer au sein d'une PIC. Ce critèrequi donne objectivement l'autorité aux plus âgés et à ceux qui sont nés dans les îles dePolynésie renforce les clivages générationnels en paroisse. Les groupes minoritaires desPIC (c'est-à-dire non samoans) souhaitent également se distinguer des Samoans enrevendiquant une meilleure intégration des femmes en paroisse 15.


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28 Cette exclusion des paroisses polynésiennes, lorsqu'elle est perçue comme définitive,

devient difficilement acceptable. Plusieurs stratégies sont dès lors possibles. Pour LuisaFruean et son mari, la méthode mise en place et qui portera certainement ses fruits serésume par la formulation suivante : « deux pour le prix d'un » : « Because someparishes will probably call the man and not the woman but my husband and I havetalked about it and my husband said if he was called and I wasn't, he doesn't go,because we can still offer half and half for one, we are not demanding a second fullstipend ». Pour Marie Ropeti, la stratégie consiste – en mettant en avant une légitimitéparticulière, celle du fondateur – à créer soi-même une congrégation polynésienne parscission, dans le sillage de la création du PIS. Mais en définitive, peu de femmespasteures sont membres du PIS, bien que l'adhésion à titre personnel soit possible, dufait de leur affectation en paroisse pākehā 16.

L'expérience en paroisses pākehā : entre conflits générationnels et

dialogues interculturels

29 Pour ces femmes pasteures polynésiennes, les difficultés liées à l'adaptation au rôle

pastoral ne sont pas là où on les attendait. L'exercice ministériel est, pour certaines,source de tensions moins culturelles que générationnelles, les paroisses pākehā étant,en milieu rural, déclinantes et composées majoritairement de personnes âgées.L'origine polynésienne est interprétée, par les paroissiens pākehā qui choisissent unejeune femme, comme la garantie d'une authenticité chrétienne et d'une implication« naturelle » dans les activités paroissiales : en liant intrinsèquement socialisationreligieuse poussée et vocation pastorale, les paroissiens se réjouissent d'accueillirquelqu'un qui « a grandi dedans » et fera preuve d'une disponibilité sans faille. Or cetteinterprétation trop linéaire omet l'influence des courants évangéliques au sein del'Église presbytérienne qui favorise l'émergence de la figure du « converti del'intérieur » celui qui – pour reprendre les termes de Danièle Hervieu-Léger –« découvre ou redécouvre une identité religieuse demeurée jusque-là formelle ou vécuea minima de façon purement conformiste » (1999 : 124). Les femmes pasteurespolynésiennes qui comme Talaitupu (Tala) Fa'amausili ont fait l'expérience de laconversion évangélique (born again) à l'adolescence au sein des groupes de langueanglaise des PIC ont développé un regard critique par rapport au fonctionnementtraditionnel de l'institution ecclésiale qui entre dès lors en conflit avec les attentesconservatrices des paroissiens pākehā. Tala est depuis 2003 pasteure de la paroissepākehā sur l'île de Waiheke qui comprend environ 50 personnes, majoritairementâgées, au culte dominical :

I have an eldership that is very much older... when I came here some of them triedto control and tell me how to do my job. So that is just in terms of the leadership :people will still treat me, you know, I am just the young girl and I am Polynesian sothe elders can tell me what to do (...) Not all of them, just a few. I don't know if youheard the term gatekeepers ? Gatekeepers in the church are people who try tocontrol how things are done in the church. The minister who was here before was aretired minister 80 years old. He was an old minister : « I tell what to do and youfollow ». But I came here and I've given them the freedom to speak and share whatthey want to say and we will try to negotiate how we do things. But unfortunatelythe gate keepers try to control how I do things and don't want to give me thefreedom to learn and do my minister. 17


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30 L'exercice ministériel en paroisse pākehā n'est pas réservé aux femmes polynésiennes,

mais pour ces dernières les « chances » d'y rester sont beaucoup plus grandes que pourles hommes polynésiens. Ces derniers peuvent par la suite, lorsqu'ils exercent dans uneparoisse polynésienne, mettre à profit une bonne connaissance de l'institutionecclésiale dans son ensemble pour se faire les porte-parole des Pacific Peoples au sein del'Église presbytérienne. L'expérience prolongée des paroisses pākehā offre aux femmespolynésiennes d'autres opportunités : l'établissement de relations œcuméniques, lamise à profit des différences culturelles, enfin l'adoption, à travers une perspectivecomparative, d'un regard critique sur le fonctionnement des paroisses polynésiennes.

31 Depuis les années 1960, les Églises mainline en milieu rural ont en effet développé des

relations œcuméniques locales qui se traduisent par la célébration de cultes communset l'organisation d'actions sociales. Ces relations œcuméniques s'inscrivent dans uncontexte de déclin de la fréquentation et de pénurie pastorale qui incite les Églises àmettre en œuvre des modèles alternatifs de leadership basés sur une participationaccrue des laïcs et une compréhension décléricalisée du pastorat. L'expérience d'uneparoisse pākehā est aussi l'occasion de mettre à profit les écarts culturels enintroduisant des pratiques polynésiennes au sein des paroisses pākehā. La visite desfamilles, étiquetée comme une « pratique polynésienne », fait par exemple le bonheurdes paroissiens pākehā âgés d'Alofa, touchés que leur pasteure se déplace pour leurrendre visite.

32 Enfin, la comparaison entre le fonctionnement des paroissiens polynésiens et pākehāpermet d'envisager une réforme, en douceur, de certaines pratiques polynésiennes(comme les collectes samoanes trop nombreuses) et une meilleure intégration desjeunes. Luisa Fruean constate ainsi que son expérience en paroisse pākehā vieillissantel'oblige à innover sans cesse, notamment au niveau musical, pour attirer les jeunes auculte :

Here I have to do a lot of things just to try to keep people into the church. Forexample : we need to have things like country Gospel, we need to change music totry attracting people. I love [old] hymns but we try to get a balance. Because churchis not a priority for a lot of people in their life now, even Samoans [...] And I thinkanother thing for the kids leaving the [PIC] church, I heard from my own [Samoan]cousins : church is may be too traditional, they want the music, they want the band.So I think church needs to give more opportunities to the kids if they want to keepthem and to give more opportunities to do that sort of things. And it's also theminister : he needs to spend more time with the kids, talking to the kids. 18

33 Cette prise de conscience d'une appartenance religieuse qui ne va plus de soi en milieu

pākehā rend les femmes polynésiennes d'autant plus sensibles au départ des jeunespolynésiens des Églises traditionnelles qu'elles ont fréquenté adolescentes les groupesde jeunes de l'Église ; certaines d'entre elles ont gardé, grâce à leur ministère nonparoissial (aumônière à l'université, coordinatrice nationale des jeunes de l'Église), desrelations étroites avec eux. Alors que les hommes polynésiens impliqués dans le PIS onttendance à mettre en avant le dynamisme relatif des jeunes polynésiens, comparé àceux des paroisses pākehā, les femmes pasteures polynésiennes soulignent au contraireun déclin perceptible également dans les paroisses polynésiennes qu'il conviendrait dereconnaître pour initier de nouvelles méthodes susceptibles d'attirer les jeunes àl'Église. Cette « option préférentielle pour les jeunes » 19 apparaît donc comme un traitcommun à de nombreuses femmes pasteures. Elle leur permet, tout en respectant unerépartition traditionnelle des tâches (l'éducation des enfants fait partie des activités


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des femmes), d'inscrire leurs trajectoires et réflexions personnelles dans un cadre pluslarge de promotion de l'idéal égalitaire et démocratique en paroisse, les « jeunes »désignant au-delà d'une catégorie d'âge tous ceux qui se situent en marge del'institution ecclésiale. Ce faisant, ce positionnement souligne aussi la difficulté àconcilier revendication féministe et culturelle. Même si le terme de féminisme n'est pasnécessairement approprié par ces femmes (elles l'associent plutôt aux mouvementspâhekâ des années 1970), nombreuses sont celles qui constatent que leur accession aupastorat est en soi perçue comme un acte de militantisme qu'il convient dès lorsd'assumer.

3. La difficile émergence d'un féminisme protestantpolynésien ou les limites du « militantisme deproximité »

34 Interrogé sur les raisons expliquant le non accès des femmes au pastorat au sein de la

CCCS, le pasteur samoan Asora Amosa, secrétaire général du PIS, répond en ces termes :

I can not speak for the Samoan Church, I can offer an observation as a Samoanperson. First let me offer an observation : it will not stand like that for ever, thetrend and the movement not only Pacific but also globally is going to have an effectalso on that position in Samoa. The Samoan Church is probably beginning to fit inas a way to react to the women's movements, I suspect that : « well we will notchange our position ». The position is coming probably from a Paul's position in theNew Testament, the men are the one who should take the leadership in terms ofthings of the church and they have not moved very far from that. 20

35 Premièrement, l'idée communément admise selon laquelle l'interdiction du pastorat

des femmes ne serait que temporaire sape les bases mêmes de l'action militantepuisqu'« il suffirait d'attendre ». Cette attitude passive serait de surcroît plus efficacequ'une action visant à imposer un idéal démocratique (l'égalité entre les hommes et lesfemmes) par des moyens non-démocratiques (la non reconnaissance de l'indépendancede l'Église CCCS). Cette compréhension en terme de retard est fréquente (Löwy, 2006 :32 ; 46-47). Elle s'inscrit néanmoins en Polynésie dans une histoire coloniale etmissionnaire spécifique qui lui donne une résonance particulière : la promotion del'égalité entre les sexes a en effet servi d'argument légitimant l'action de « civilisation »et d'évangélisation entreprise en Océanie. Dès lors la revendication contemporained'égalité entre les sexes est présentée, par ses opposants, comme une forme déguiséede néo-colonialisme. Pour les femmes polynésiennes, le risque encouru, en défendantcet idéal égalitaire, est d'apparaître comme « étrangères » à leur propre culture. Lesfemmes pasteures nées et scolarisées en Nouvelle-Zélande, confrontées à desquestionnements identitaires et à une maîtrise insuffisante d'une langue polynésienne,sont plus sensibles à cette forme de discrédit que les femmes de la première générationde migrants.

36 Dans l'Église presbytérienne de Nouvelle-Zélande, l'accès des femmes au ministère

pastoral est légalement autorisé : la compréhension largement répandue selon laquelleil appartient désormais aux femmes de saisir cette opportunité clôt toute discussion. SaSiitia, qui aurait souhaité que le synode polynésien soit un espace propice à débattre dece sujet, constate amèrement que le silence reste de mise :


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They talk about money, they talk buildings, but they don't talk about this importantissue : women issue. They talk about young people but not women ! According tothem there is no more an issue because there are women ministers now. But theissue is : they don't call any woman minister in a Pacific Island Church. I don't knowif it's an issue or a fear of debating such issue (...) I agreed to the fact that this [PIS]was a good opportunity and a good forum for this issue to be brought to but... thereis a silence about women. 21

37 Mais l'impossibilité de débattre de cette question au sein du PIS ne met pas uniquement

en évidence les résistances des pasteurs et des paroisses polynésiennes. Elle souligneégalement les faiblesses du féminisme religieux contemporain 22 et les faiblessesinstitutionnelles d'une Église presbytérienne préoccupée par d'autres débats jugés plusimportants : « There was a terrible Assembly about gays and lesbians issues – raconteMargaret Mayman – and a resolution to disband the committee on the status of womenand it was like we don't need it anymore because the focus was on the other issue » 23.L'omniprésence des débats relatifs à l'ordination des gays et lesbiennes, qui divise lesÉglises protestantes mainline depuis 20 ans, a eu pour effet de rendre invisibles d'autresrevendications considérées à tort comme anachroniques notamment une pleinereconnaissance de l'ordination des femmes. La question de l'ordination des gays etlesbiennes semble donc avoir joué indirectement contre l'ordination des femmes : lamise en concurrence de ces deux causes, l'égalité des sexes et des sexualités, ne peut secomprendre qu'en resituant les débats dans le cadre, plus large, du champ protestant etdes enjeux de positionnement respectif des Églises. En effet, au sein des Églisesprotestantes évangéliques et pentecôtistes, l'accès des femmes au pastorat a étéprésenté, par ses opposants, comme une porte d'entrée « dangereuse » ouvrant la voieà l'ordination des gays et des lesbiennes dans la mesure où les femmes pasteures nepeuvent se conformer stricto sensus au modèle pastoral traditionnel (un homme pasteurmarié aidé par son épouse). En Nouvelle-Zélande, ce modèle qui valorisel'hétérosexualité et l'inégalité des sexes au sein du couple pastoral est toujours envigueur dans les Églises pentecôtistes et dans les paroisses polynésiennes rattachéesaux Églises congrégationalistes des îles de Polynésie.

38 La seconde difficulté de l'action militante vient du fait qu'elle ne semble pouvoir

s'exercer qu'auprès de personnes trop proches pour instaurer une bonne distance entrela revendication d'un idéal égalitaire et des intérêts personnels 24. En conséquence, larevendication égalitaire est ravalée au rang d'une démarche purement individualiste etégoïste. Marie Ropeti qui essaie de faire reconnaître son ordination au sein de laparoisse de son mari pasteur de l'Église congrégationaliste de Samoa note la difficultéde l'exercice :

How can I be a minister as a woman and a minister's wife at the same time ?Because for me all these things are fused : my ordination is within my character.And they [the Samoan parishioners of the husband's parish] are saying you are not[a minister] and I say I am and if I keep saying that I am an ordained woman theysay that I am vain, I am selfish. All the positive things that I want to proclaim... howimportant it is that women can be... They say no it's for you and your own... it's justfor me... 25

39 La stratégie consiste dès lors à dissocier la revendication égalitaire de son propre

parcours : c'est la tactique adoptée par des femmes samoanes que Marie Ropeti arencontrées lors d'un rassemblement de théologiennes au Pacific Theological College àFidji. Cette stratégie ambiguë comporte le risque de « prêcher dans le vide » si aucunedemande concrète n'est exprimée à court terme. Elle souligne, en creux, les contraintes


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liées à une implication personnelle trop longue et à une exposition publique de soi tropéprouvante.

40 La troisième difficulté vient de l'absence de solidarité entre femmes polynésiennes. Les

femmes pasteures ont parfois des relations conflictuelles avec d'autres femmespolynésiennes, le plus souvent âgées, qui ne reconnaissent pas leur ministère pastoralni le travail effectué. Cette absence de solidarité entre femmes s'explique de plusieursfaçons : l'appartenance à des classes d'âge différentes (qui recoupe le plus souventdifférents modes de socialisation et de scolarisation) et avec elle, une compréhensiondifférente des ministères pastoraux ; la concurrence entre celles qui exercent unministère dérivé (épouses de pasteurs et de elders) et celles qui ont un ministèrepastoral à part entière (femmes pasteures) ; enfin une organisation paroissiale quivalorise une répartition traditionnelle des rôles entre les sexes.

41 À cette absence de solidarité entre femmes polynésiennes – mais aussi entre femmes

polynésiennes et pākehā – s'ajoute une divergence théorique profonde. lors que lesthéories féministes pākehā ont fortement critiqué la famille – lieu de production et dereproduction des discriminations de sexe – « la famille », quelle que soit la diversité designifications que recouvre ce terme, reste dans une perspective polynésienne, et à plusforte raison en contexte migratoire, fortement valorisée 26. Cette valorisation seretrouve dans les domaines théologique, ecclésiologique et politique. Gilles Vidalmontre comment à partir du concept aiga – la famille en samoan – A. Tofaeono élaboreune éco-théologie (voir infra, p. 164 s.). La famille polynésienne est égalementconstituée en « champ de mission » par des pasteurs de PIC souhaitant remobiliserl'entourage immédiat des paroissiens. Enfin au niveau politique, les leaders religieuxpolynésiens en Nouvelle-Zélande se sont prioritairement mobilisés pour la défense des« valeurs familiales » 27.

42 Les femmes pasteures polynésiennes sont d'autant moins enclines à s'approprier une

critique féministe de la famille que leur vocation pastorale, soutenue par leurs parents,reste intimement associée à leur socialisation familiale et religieuse. Les logiquesfamiliales ont participé dans un premier temps à la confirmation de la vocationpastorale de ces jeunes filles mais dans un second temps l'appartenance familiale et lesrègles qui y sont associées – respect des anciens et des normes culturelles – rendentparticulièrement étroites les marges de manœuvre dont disposent ces femmespasteures. Ces dernières peuvent adopter une démarche militante en tant qu'individumais pas en tant que membre de famille ; or l'appartenance familiale et l'implicationreligieuse étant étroitement associées, les ressorts de l'action s'en trouventconsidérablement réduits.

43 Si la catégorie « nous les femmes » n'est pas pertinente, la catégorie culturelle « nous

les Polynésiens » apparaît hégémonique. C'est cette unité culturelle qui est mise enscène lors des événements religieux comme les enterrements ou les rencontresinterconfessionnelles. L'œcuménisme est compris comme un moyen d'exprimer, au-delà des différences confessionnelles et de la dispersion géographique, l'appartenance àune même culture. Dans ce contexte, le pastorat des femmes est rarement reconnu :elles ne sont pas invitées à participer, en tant que pasteures, au programme de la radiosamoane, elles ne sont pas non plus considérées comme des pasteures lors desenterrements. Dans cette perspective où l'unité polynésienne apparaît plus importanteque l'égalité des sexes, les hommes (pasteurs et prêtres) gardent le monopole de laprise de parole en public et de la représentation d'une communauté polynésienne unie.


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44 Comment sortir des impasses de ce « militantisme de proximité » et impulser un

changement significatif ? À partir des réflexions à haute voix recueillies auprès de cesfemmes pasteures deux pistes sont privilégiées : un travail de sensibilisation desparoissiens grâce à l'organisation d'études bibliques et surtout la nécessaireimplication des hommes pasteurs dans l'action militante. Une troisième option pources femmes pasteures consiste à montrer en quoi leurs parcours s'appuient sur desnormes traditionnelles polynésiennes, en développant au besoin une perspectivehistorique et anthropologique leur permettant de réinterpréter, au nom du respect dela tradition, les normes sexuées et religieuses. L'enseignement des Pacific Studies au seindes universités et de l'histoire des missions en Océanie au sein des collègesthéologiques fournit ainsi des perspectives nouvelles de réappropriation religieuse etculturelle. C'est le cas de Feiloaiga Taule'ale'ausumai, qui écrit :

From 1830 through to the year 2000, the question of women in ministry remainsunchallenged and now is assumed to be determined by Samoan culture rather thanChristian culture. The main argument against the ordination of women is that itgoes against the fa'a Samoa. The memory of old Samoa has become selective andvery short and the Samoanisation of English Christianity has blurred the history ofpre-christian Samoan which held women in high respect and honour. 28

45 En enracinant l'origine de la domination masculine dans la colonisation et dans

l'évangélisation initiée par les missionnaires britanniques de la LMS, ces femmesélaborent une réinterprétation de la culture samoane de la période pré-missionnairequi leur permet de combiner égalité des sexes, appartenance protestante etidentification polynésienne. Cette approche historique critique semble néanmoinsd'une diffusion restreinte : ces femmes malgré leur cursus universitaire n'ont pas – dufait de leur position marginale au sein de l'Église – la même légitimité que leurscollègues masculins diplômés en théologie à proposer des réinterprétations destraditions protestantes polynésiennes.

Conclusion

46 La question de l'accès des femmes polynésiennes au pastorat en Nouvelle-Zélande

révèle l'importance des Églises protestantes dans les processus de socialisation, detransmission et d'identification culturelle parmi les Pacific Peoples. Alors qu'on aurait pus'attendre à ce que ceux qui sont nés et ont grandi en Nouvelle-Zélande revendiquentplus facilement l'accès des femmes au pastorat au nom de l'égalité des sexes, ce n'estpas le cas. La politisation des questions de genre et de sexualité au sein des courants etÉglises évangéliques et les processus de disqualification culturelle auxquels sontconfrontées les femmes polynésiennes expliquent, dans une large mesure, lesdifficultés à légitimer un militantisme féministe et polynésien.

47 Si les femmes migrantes de la première génération, comme Marie Ropeti, peuvent

revendiquer sans complexe une identité polynésienne et féministe, cette doubleaffirmation n'exclut pas une hiérarchisation des objectifs : « Women always play adouble barrier on these things : one is your cultural person, two is you are a woman.For me if I see my brothers being discriminated against, I will deal with this issuefirst ». Surtout, cette double revendication identitaire ne produit pas les mêmes effetsen termes d'action militante : alors que Marie Ropeti s'est engagée dès l'origine dans lacréation du synode polynésien aux côtés de ses collègues polynésiens, elle constate sonextrême isolement sur le terrain du militantisme féministe au sein de la CCCS : « But I


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don't know how to bring this change. I am making the change in my own life, I ammaking the change quietly by just being myself and try to feel comfortable in thechurch. And it's very hard because all the other women accept that “women should dothis” [i.e. la répartition traditionnelle des activités entre les sexes] ».

48 Les questionnements identitaires des Polynésiens nés et scolarisés en Nouvelle-Zélande

sont au cœur des réflexions des femmes de la seconde génération. Celles qui ontfréquenté le groupe de langue anglaise adoptent une perspective qui met davantagel'accent sur les inégalités de classes d'âge plutôt que de sexe. En prônant unfonctionnement moins hiérarchisé et gérontocratique des paroisses polynésiennes,elles prônent une meilleure intégration des « jeunes » au sein des paroissespolynésiennes qui devrait permettre in fine la promotion de l'égalité de sexes. Cettesensibilité aux conflits générationnels traduit aussi l'influence des courantsévangéliques et pentecôtistes au sein des groupes de langue anglaise des PIC et descampus universitaires que les étudiantes en théologie ont fréquentés. Or, au sein desprotestantismes évangéliques et pentecôtistes, les revendications féministes sont leplus souvent prises en étau entre deux affirmations contraires : l'égalité des sexesdevant Dieu et la relégation au second plan de l'identité sexuée – les hommes et lesfemmes étant d'abord des « convertis » – qui rend impossible l'émergence des« femmes » en tant que catégorie sociale spécifique et par voie de conséquence larevendication d'un égal accès au leadership religieux.

49 La difficulté à adopter une perspective féministe se situe ainsi à différents niveaux,

théoriques et pratiques. Qu'il s'agisse des protestantismes polynésiens ou évangéliques,l'affirmation d'une identité féministe entre en conflit avec d'autres composantes del'identité de la personne, culturelle ou religieuse. Surtout, la transformation d'unpositionnement féministe en action militante semble d'autant plus difficile qu'il s'agitde revendiquer, au nom de l'égalité, l'accès à des positions de pouvoir. Les femmespasteures redéfinissent ainsi le pastorat comme un ministère de service et d'écouteplutôt qu'un statut social privilégié. En ce sens, les parcours de ces femmes pasteurespolynésiennes n'illustrent pas uniquement des mécanismes de discrimination, ilsapportent une meilleure compréhension des modalités d'exercice du pastorat, dufonctionnement des institutions religieuses et des transformations en cours.

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NOTES

1. « Le genre n'est pas l'unique principe d'ordre. Précisément parce qu'il relève du social et de

l'historique il se construit en relation à d'autres rapports sociaux, qu'il contribue à façonner tout

en étant façonné par eux. » (Eléni Varikas, 1998, « Sentiment national, genre et ethnicité »,

Tumultes, no 11, p. 88-89.)

2. Morokvasic, 2010.

3. Ces recherches post-doctorales ont été effectuées dans le cadre d'un détachement au CNRS et

d'une allocation de l'Institut Émilie du Chatelet (conseil régional Île-de-France). Deux séjours ont

été effectués en 2005 et 2007, ce dernier séjour ayant bénéficié d'une aide du Fonds de

coopération économique, sociale et culturelle pour le Pacifique et du prix Fichter Grant de

l'Association for the Sociology of Religion. Une soixantaine d'entretiens semi-directifs ont été

effectués dans différentes Églises protestantes ; pour plus de clarté, seul le cas de l'Église

presbytérienne sera exposé ici.

4. C'est le cas de la Free Wesleyan Church of Tonga (depuis 1990), de l'Église protestante mâ'ohi de

Polynésie française (depuis 1995) et de l'Église protestante de Niue (depuis 1997).

5. QuickStats About Culture and Identity, 2006 Census, Statistics New Zealand Tatauranga Aotearoa.

6. Au recensement de 1901 seule une personne sur trente déclarait ne pas avoir d'affiliation

religieuse, en 2001 ils sont 40 %. À titre de comparaison, le pourcentage des « sans religion »

oscille entre 9 % (Tokelau) et 24 % (Niue) parmi les Pacific Peoples.

7. Pour une approche historique et anthropologique de la constitution des Pacific Islanders

Churches en Nouvelle-Zélande voir notamment les travaux de Feiloaiga Taule'ale'ausumai (1997)

et Cluny et La'avasa Macpherson (2001).

8. Statistics New Zealand, 2002 : « Pacific Peoples: New Zealand Census of Population and Dwellings

2001 », Wellington.

9. Une étude réalisée en 1990, 25 ans après la première ordination d'une femme pasteure

pākehā dans l'Église presbytérienne, montrait que ces femmes étaient le plus souvent pasteures

de paroisses de petite taille et/ou en zone rurale ; surtout 29 % d'entre elles exerçaient des

activités traditionnellement réservées aux diaconnesses (travail social et éducatif, visite des

hôpitaux). Une femme résumait la situation en ces termes : « It was pretty clear that women do

not receive calls to the same extent as men » (Adair, 1991 : 12 ; 26).

10. En 2000, un premier recueil de témoignages, édité par Feiloaiga Taule'ale'ausumai, recense 9

femmes pasteures d'origine polynésienne dans l'Église presbytérienne (sur un total de 73

pasteurs polynésiens) ; en 2007 elles sont 15.

11. Cinq sont en paroisse pākehā, une est encore étudiante au collège théologique, deux sont

pasteures aumônières (des hôpitaux et de l'armée), une est pasteure d'une paroisse

multiculturelle (composée de Pākehā et de Samoans), enfin une est actuellement sans paroisse.


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12. Béatrice de Gasquet a montré l'importance du mode de fonctionnement (centralisé ou

décentralisé) des organisations religieuses sur le déroulement des carrières féminines : lorsque le

recrutement est effectué au niveau local, les résistances sont plus fortes (2009 : 230).

13. Entretien avec Alofa Lale du 1er novembre 2007 à Dunedin.

14. Entretien avec Luisa Fruean du 21 octobre 2005, Ashburton.

15. L'Église protestante de Niue autorise depuis 1997 l'ordination des femmes. Les paroisses

niue de l'Église presbytérienne inscrivent ainsi l'intégration des femmes pasteures dans une

double dynamique, néo-zélandaise (loyauté institutionnelle) et niue (loyauté nationale).

16. Néanmoins depuis 2007, à l'initiative de Talaitupu Fa'amausili, une nouvelle stratégie a été

mise en place visant à transformer le groupe de langue anglaise en lieu accueillant tous les

« déçus » des autres groupes « ethniques » (Malogne-Fer, 2009).

17. Entretiens octobre 2005 et octobre 2007.

18. Entretien du 21 octobre 2005, Ahsburton.

19. En référence à « l'option préférentielle des pauvres » élaborée par les théologiens de la

Libération.

20. Entretien du 15 octobre 2007, Auckland.

21. Entretien du 24 novembre 2007, Eastbourne.

22. À la différence du féminisme néo-zélandais de la première vague, essentiellement religieux

(porté à la fin du XIXe siècle par les ligues de tempérance), le féminisme des années 1970

développe une approche critique des religions comme mode d'oppression des femmes.

23. Entretien avec Margaret Mayman, pasteure de la paroisse Saint Andrew's de Wellington du

11 décembre 2007.

24. De façon sensiblement comparable, Céline Béraud constate au sein de l'Église catholique en

France, la marginalité du débat relatif à l'accès des femmes à la prêtrise alors que ces dernières

constituent la majorité des laïcs permanents de l'Église. Pour expliquer ce faible niveau de

revendication, l'auteure souligne notamment une forte loyauté des membres envers une

institution perçue comme fragilisée, l'usage de la métaphore familiale rendant compte de cet

attachement des fidèles et du processus de disqualification des contestations internes (Béraud,

2007 : 213-241.

25. Entretien du 23 octobre 2007, Auckland.

26. Pour une analyse de la révision conceptuelle de certaines notions du féminisme en Europe

de l'Est, et notamment des compréhensions différentes de la « famille » : Ioana Cîrstocea, 2008.

27. Les représentants des Églises et paroisses polynésiennes se sont notamment mobilisés

contre la légalisation de la prostitution en juin 2003 et contre la loi d'union civile pour les couples

hétérosexuels et homosexuels votée en décembre 2004.

28. Taule'ale'ausumai, 2000 : 24.

RÉSUMÉS

Les migrations des Pacific Peoples vers la Nouvelle-Zélande, majoritairement des Polynésiens

originaires des îles de Samoa, Tonga, Cook et Niue, se sont intensifiés à partir des années 1960 en

se structurant autour des réseaux familiaux et des organisations religieuses. Contrairement à la

discipline des Églises protestantes dont sont issus de nombreux migrants polynésiens, l'accès des

femmes au pastorat est autorisé depuis 1965 dans l'Église presbytérienne de Nouvelle-Zélande.


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Cet article analyse les spécificités des parcours des femmes pasteures polynésiennes en Nouvelle-

Zélande, les différentes stratégies adoptées pour faire face aux mécanismes de disqualification et

le contexte institutionnel et ecclésial dans lequel la revendication d'égalité des sexes prend sens.

La domination masculine y apparaît moins comme une spécificité culturelle polynésienne

qu'inscrite dans le cadre de relations de pouvoirs marquées au sein de l'Église presbytérienne par

des revendications identitaires et des clivages intergénérationnels forts.

Migrations of Pacific Peoples in New Zealand—mainly Polynesians from Samoa, Cook Islands,

Tonga and Niue—which grew from the 1960s, relied strongly on familial networks and religious

organisations. Contrary to the discipline of Island Protestant churches where they come from,

the Presbyterian Church in New Zealand that most of them joined allows women to become

pastors since 1965. This article examines the itineraries of Polynesian female pastors in New

Zealand, the various strategies these women have adopted to face logics of disqualification, and

the institutional context in which the claim for gender equality takes sense. Male domination

appears less as a Polynesian cultural character than as an element of power relationships within

the Presbyterian Church linked with identity claims and strong generational divisions.

Las migraciones de los Pacific Peoples, mayoritariamente de polinesios originarios de las islas de

Samoa, Tonga, Cook y Niue, hacia Nueva Zelanda, se intensificaron a partir de los años 1960,

estructurándose en torno de redes familiares y de organizaciones religiosas. Contrariamente a la

disciplina de las iglesias protestantes a las que pertenecían numerosos migrantes polinesios, el

acceso de las mujeres al pastorado es autorizado desde 1965 en la iglesia presbiteriana de Nueva

Zelanda. Este artículo analiza las especificidades de los recorridos de las pastoras polinesias en

Nueva Zelanda, las diferentes estrategias adoptadas para enfrentar los mecanismos de

descalificación y el contexto institucional y eclesial en el que la reivindicación de igualdad de

sexos se inscribe. La dominación masculina aparece menos como una especificidad cultural

polinesia que inscripta en el marco de relaciones de poderes marcados en el seno de la iglesia

presbiteriana por reivindicaciones identitarias y clivajes intergeneracionales fuertes.

INDEX

Mots-clés : femmes, pastorat, protestantisme, Nouvelle-Zélande, Polynésie, migrations,

générations

Keywords : women, pastorate, Protestantism, New Zealand, Polynesia, migration, generation

Palabras claves : mujeres, pastorado, Protestantismo, Nueva Zelanda, Polinesia, migración,

generación

AUTEUR

GWENDOLINE MALOGNE-FER

Groupe Sociétés, Religions, Laïcités, [email protected]


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La contextualisation de la théologieprotestante comme lieu dechangement du christianisme enOcéanie The contextualisation of protestant theology in Oceania as a Sign of a Changing

Christianity

La contextualización de la teología protestante como lugar de cambio del

cristianismo en el Pacífico Sur

Gilles Vidal

1 Compte tenu de l'importance historique et sociologique du christianisme en Océanie, le

discours théologique constitue l'un des lieux d'observation privilégiés du champ social.Notre propos est ici de décrire l'évolution de ce discours religieux dans sa versionprotestante. Au niveau épistémologique, nous n'aborderons pas la théologie d'un pointde vue normatif. Nous entendons simplement retracer, sur un plan sociohistorique, lesorigines et les filiations des concepts utilisés par certains théologiens océanienscontemporains, en nous inscrivant dans une approche dialogique entre théologie,anthropologie et histoire, élaborée au début du XXe siècle par M. Leenhardt sous le

terme de missiologie descriptive et pratiquée depuis en Europe du Nord et en milieuanglo-américain (Zorn, 2004).

2 La démarche consistant à organiser une réflexion théologique à partir de la culture est

généralement désignée dans la littérature missiologique en milieu protestant sous levocable de « contextualisation » ou « d'inculturation » en milieu catholique romain(Vidal, 2011 : 341-358). Ce concept articule la notion théologique de révélation et l'idéeanthropologique d'acculturation. Il a été systématisé, dans les années 1960, au sein duConseil Œcuménique des Églises (COE) en ces termes : « ... la contextualisationauthentique (...) surgit d'une rencontre vraie et profonde entre la Parole de Dieu et lemonde dans lequel elle prend place ; elle est déterminée par la volonté de mettre audéfi et de transformer une situation donnée, en s'enracinant dans, et en participant à


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un temps historique précis. Il est donc clair que la contextualisation est un processusdynamique, non un processus statique. Elle constate que toute situation humaineévolue sans arrêt et elle reconnaît la possibilité d'un vrai changement ; en cela, elleouvre le chemin pour l'avenir » (Blaser, 1995 : 134-135).

3 Afin d'étudier l'émergence et l'évolution de la théologie protestante océanienne

contemporaine, nous avons sélectionné trois théologiens que l'on peut considérercomme des « figures de proue » des années 1970 jusqu'aux années 2000 : Sione AmanakiHavea, de Tonga, Ilaitia Sevati Tuwere, de Fidji et Ama Amalele Tofaeono, de Samoa.Tous trois proviennent d'Églises issues directement des anciennes Sociétés des Missionsà l'œuvre depuis le XVIIIe siècle. Lorsque nous évoquons ici la théologie protestante

océanienne, nous n'incluons pas la production d'autres Églises de la mouvanceévangélique, pentecôtiste, ou relevant de « nouveaux mouvements religieux » présentsdans la Région (Ernst, 2006).

4 Nous présenterons successivement la biographie de chacun des théologiens précités

ainsi que l'un des thèmes majeurs de leur pensée. Dans un deuxième temps, noustenterons de cerner les continuités et les ruptures de ce discours religieux particulierainsi que les influences qu'il a subies. Enfin nous proposerons pour conclure unepériodisation historique de la théologie protestante en Océanie à partir de sa mise enregard avec le christianisme régional et mondial et ses évolutions.

Éléments du discours théologique dans le Pacifique

La communauté chez S. A. Havea

5 La théologie protestante contemporaine dans le Pacifique insulaire ne prend

véritablement son essor qu'au début des années 1960, lors de la création de laConférence des Églises du Pacifique 1 initiée par la conférence de Malua (Samoa) en1961 et l'inauguration du Pacific College of Theology (PTC) en 1966 à Suva, c'est-à-dire aumoment de ce que J. Barker appelle la deuxième vague de la christianisation enOcéanie.

6 Une figure théologique se détache de cette époque : Sione Havea, né sur l'île de Vava'u

à Tonga en 1922 dans une famille de pasteurs, considéré comme le père fondateur de lathéologie du Pacifique. Après des études secondaires, il entre en 1940 au Collège Tupou,institut de formation théologique. En 1941 et 1942, il participe à une tournéed'évangélisation en Australie organisée par la Methodist Missionary Society (MMS) avec lepasteur fidjien Setareki A. Tuilovoni. De 1952 à 1955, Havea suit des études de théologieà l'Université de Drew dans le New Jersey où il obtient une licence en théologie(Bachelor of Divinity). Délégué officiel de l'Église méthodiste en Australasie il participe àla deuxième Assemblée mondiale du COE à Evanston. De retour à Tonga, il commenceune carrière d'enseignement, au Collège Tupou puis, en 1968 comme directeur duCollège Théologique de Sia'atoutai. En 1958, l'Université de Tokyo lui décerne le titre deDocteur Honoris Causa pour son ministère d'enseignant et de pasteur. Parallèlement, ilest élu secrétaire général de la Free Wesleyan Church of Tonga avant d'en devenir leprésident de 1971 à 1977. Il assume également la fonction de chapelain du roi Tupou IV.À la même époque, de 1971-1976, il est élu au Bureau du Conseil Méthodiste Mondial(World Methodist Council). En 1977, il est proposé comme doyen du PTC à Fidji, poste qu'iloccupera jusqu'en 1982. Il fait aussi partie de la délégation de la PCC à la 6e assemblée


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mondiale du COE à Vancouver en 1983. Son épouse Etina décède un an seulement aprèsl'arrivée du couple à Fidji 2.

7 Havea se retire ensuite de la scène théologique régionale mais reste engagé à Tonga

comme président de son Église de 1982 à 1992, année de sa retraite. Havea a joué unrôle sinon prophétique, du moins précurseur dans presque toutes les fonctions qu'il aoccupées : premier président élu de son Église, premier directeur tongien du CollègeSia'atoutai, premier président du Conseil National des Églises de Tonga, premierdirecteur océanien du PTC, etc. Cette fonction de pionnier au niveau institutionnelnational et régional renforce le crédit attaché à ses positions théologiques parmilesquelles la vie communautaire joue un rôle fondamental.

8 Havea offre en effet une place de choix aux valeurs communautaires océaniennes,

rendues visibles en particulier lors des grandes cérémonies coutumières. Il prône ainsiune théologie de la célébration et du don : « Notre théologie du Pacifique pourrait êtreune théologie de célébration. La participation de la communauté, le caractère inclusifde la famille élargie, le partage et le soin que nous prenons des anciens étaient descaractéristiques des peuples du Pacifique. (...) Appliquons maintenant cela à lathéologie. Dieu, dans sa célébration du don (l'eucharistie) fit le premier geste endonnant son saint Fils. Les gens répondent à ce geste en faisant à leur tour des donsd'argent, de nourriture, de fleurs, qui les font participer à une célébration entre Dieu etla communauté. Dieu fit le premier pas. Il initia le don et les gens furent nourris delouanges et d'Actions de grâces. » (Havea, 1987 : 13).

9 Quant à la question des destinataires d'une théologie du Pacifique, une expression

phare ressort de tous ses écrits : « le peuple » en tant qu'acteur de la culture. Dans cesens, le Pacifique se démarque clairement de l'Amérique latine des années 1970 où lanotion de peuple, également utilisée dans la théologie de la libération, était fortementconnotée par un arrière-plan politique d'un gouvernement par le prolétariat. Rien detel chez Havea le Tongien dont la société est caractérisée par une sacralisationexacerbée de la monarchie !

10 Contrairement donc à la théologie de la libération Sud-américaine fondée sur un

raisonnement de type marxiste, la théologie pour le peuple de Havea repose sur lesvaleurs culturelles qu'il considère comme intrinsèques du Pacifique. Elles s'exprimenten termes de rassemblement de la communauté, de partage et de solidarité, voire deguérison. Elles se fondent sur les devoirs qui conditionnent la vie en société. Lacommunauté des pauvres est ici assimilée au peuple de Dieu et la mission de l'Église,qui fait partie de cette même communauté, doit être celle du service de tous. Loind'intégrer la culture dans une théologie préconstruite, Havea renverse la perspectiveen recourant à une herméneutique du symbole : penser Dieu à partir de la communautéhumaine et de ses valeurs propres. Telle est selon lui la tâche de la contextualisation àentreprendre pour une théologie pertinente.

Le Vanua chez Sevati Tuwere

11 Sevati Tuwere se caractérise quant à lui non seulement par son enseignement

théologique mais aussi par son rôle éminent dans l'histoire récente de son pays. Né en1940 sur l'île de Vanua Levu à Fidji, il fait partie de la première génération desétudiants formés au PTC où il obtient sa licence (Bachelor of Divinity) en 1969. Il complètesa formation universitaire en 1989 par une maîtrise au Melbourne College of Divinity, puis


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par un doctorat en Théologie. Après avoir été directeur au Davuilevu Theological College

de Fiji, il succède à Sione A. Havea comme Principal du PTC de 1982 à 1988. Il y retourneen 1993 pour y enseigner la théologie systématique avant d'être d'abord président, puissecrétaire général de l'Église méthodiste à Fiji et Rotuma jusqu'en 2000. Délégué de sonÉglise, il participe activement au mouvement œcuménique régional et mondial. Ilquitte Fidji en 2001 pour le Collège St John à Auckland où il enseigne la théologiesystématique.

12 Cependant cette brève biographie académique et ecclésiale ne rend pas justice au rôle

fondamental joué par Tuwere dans l'histoire contemporaine des Fidji. Commesecrétaire général de l'Église, il a en effet été au premier plan des événements survenusentre mai et juillet 2000. Cette année-là, pour la première fois depuis l'indépendance dupays en 1970, un Premier Ministre d'origine indienne, Mahendra Chaudhry, venaitd'être nommé à la tête d'un gouvernement travailliste. Ressentant cela comme uneatteinte à l'identité et la souveraineté fidjienne, Georges Speight, un homme d'affairesfidjien appuyé par des nationalistes de sa région – dont un certain nombre de chefstraditionnels et de pasteurs méthodistes – prend le gouvernement en otage dans leslocaux du Parlement pendant trois mois, demandant l'abrogation pure et simple dugouvernement et de nouvelles élections, ce qui sera finalement obtenu par la suite 3.

13 Au cours de ces trois mois, au nom de l'Église Méthodiste, Tuwere a notamment

organisé une marche pacifique réclamant la libération des otages. Agissant en pasteur,il se rend plusieurs fois à l'intérieur du Parlement, pour célébrer des cultes et desprières de soutien, réconfortant aussi bien les otages que certains de leurs geôliers,tandis qu'à l'extérieur, d'autres pasteurs, parfois de la même Église, mais le plussouvent appartenant à des groupes religieux fondamentalistes prêchaient pour la causeputschiste (Field : 2005). Lors de cette crise, Tuwere réussit à faire prendre à l'Égliseméthodiste une motion officielle condamnant la prise d'otage. Ceci relevait de l'exploitdans la mesure où l'Église, déjà très impliquée dans le passé lors du coup d'État dulieutenant-colonel Rabuka en 1987, par ailleurs prédicateur dans l'Église Méthodiste,était profondément divisée sur la question. En raison des solidarités familialestraditionnelles, un grand nombre de membres de l'Église Méthodiste – première forcereligieuse du pays – s'est retrouvée plus ou moins contraint de soutenir ce putsch et defournir une aide logistique aux preneurs d'otage. Le président de l'Église d'alors,Tomasi Kanailagi, ancien camarade d'étude au PTC de Tuwere, était d'ailleursouvertement opposé à la motion de son secrétaire général, n'hésitant pas à publier unesorte de contre motion « à titre privé » exprimant son soutien aux revendications desamis de G. Speight, tout en sachant qu'en sa qualité de président, elle aurait de facto unstatut quasi officiel...

14 Ces deux positions inconciliables, incarnées par les deux dirigeants principaux de la

même Église, au milieu des oppositions ethniques entre Indo-Fidjiens et Fidjiens « desouche » forment l'arrière-plan de la théologie de Tuwere. Toute sa quête – ancrée dansson existence et son expérience de dirigeant d'Église au sein de ce contexte-là – estsous-tendue par cette profonde déchirure où « l'autre » n'est le plus souvent perçu quecomme une menace, un individu à soumettre sur une terre qui n'est pas la sienne. C'estau cœur de ce débat nationaliste qu'il faut replacer le concept central de vanua que vadévelopper Tuwere.

15 Dans son ouvrage majeur issu de sa thèse de doctorat intitulé Vanua : towards a fijian

Theology of place, il désigne lui-même sa théologie comme « une théologie du lieu ». Il


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définit le vanua ainsi : « Dans un bon nombre de langues du Pacifique, l'expression “seinmaternel” 4 désigne aussi la “terre” 5. Les meilleurs exemples sont : fanua (Samoa), fonua

(Tonga), fenua (Maohi Nui ou Tahiti). On trouve des parallèles dans d'autres endroits :vanua (Fidji) et lau fanua (Tuvalu). Ces mots ont la même caractéristique commune et serapportent aux montagnes, rivières, vallées, plantes, arbres et pratiquement tout ce quise trouve à la surface de la terre incluant le sol ou la terre elle-même. Mais ils renvoientégalement au-delà de ces éléments matériels en se référant aux gens, à l'identité, auxcoutumes, traditions, ancêtres, croyances et valeurs » (Tuwere, 1989 : 10).

16 Le vanua correspond donc grosso modo au « pays » au sens où ce mot à l'avantage de

réconcilier la géographie physique et la géographie humaine : le pays et tout ce qu'ilcontient, tout ce qui le constitue non comme nation dans une acception politique, maiscomme le home ou homeland anglais. Trois concepts majeurs forment l'armature de sathéologie : le pays, la Trinité et la création.

17 Le vanua est tout d'abord le pays, lieu historique de la révélation : « force de cohésion

sociale » mais aussi lieu de conjonction du présent, du passé et de l'avenir, del'humanité et du reste de la création, du monde visible et du monde invisible. La valeurspirituelle du vanua doit être pleinement reconnue et non simplement sa valeurmarchande ou sentimentale.

18 Cependant, la dimension temporelle de ce vanua est elle aussi affirmée : le vanua n'est

pas devenu le lieu de la révélation, mais il l'était déjà du fait de son statut de création.Le lotu – le christianisme ou la religion chrétienne – n'a fait en quelque sorte « querévéler la révélation » en offrant une nouvelle interprétation de la relation de l'hommeà Dieu. Exprimée ainsi sous une forme restrictive, cette thèse pourrait laisser croire àune minimisation du rôle du lotu et de l'Évangile, or il n'en est rien puisque tous deuxdoivent garder une fonction critique essentielle vis-à-vis de ses deux autres partenairesde triade vanua et matanitu (le pouvoir temporel). Chacun, dans ce dispositif tripartitejouant un rôle d'instance critique à l'égard des deux autres.

19 En fait, la nouveauté de la théologie du vanua réside précisément dans son ancrage

historique, alors que la problématique du lieu, de la terre et de l'appartenance pourraittrès facilement la confiner à une théologie de type particulariste ou « régionale ». Or ilest question ni de s'isoler du reste du monde, ni de « périodiser » l'histoire du salut endeux ères, celle des ténèbres (ère pré-missionnaire) et celle de la lumière (arrivée del'Évangile) : « Il ne peut y avoir deux histoires dans l'économie du salut de Dieu :l'histoire des missionnaires et une histoire “sombre” de la culture réceptrice. Il n'y aqu'une histoire, l'histoire du salut dans laquelle le Dieu trinitaire est continuellement àl'œuvre, dont le centre et la force centrifuge est Jésus le Christ de Dieu. L'histoire de laterre et de la mer qui inclut nos mythes, nos croyances et nos systèmes de valeurs faitpartie de l'histoire du salut » (Tuwere, 1995 : 11).

20 Tuwere rejoint ici le concept d'ephapax 6 cher à Havea : une révélation à la fois

historique et géographique. Il reprend également la critique de ce dernier sur l'écriturede l'histoire par les acteurs européens : « les acteurs locaux remplissant les notes de basde page (...) La théologie de l'histoire doit concerner l'oikuménè, l'ensemble de ce qui esthabité, la planète, la terre et la mer. (...) Il doit y avoir un lien direct entre l'Océanie etIsraël, et non via Sydney, Londres ou Rome » (Tuwere, 1992 : 51-52).

21 Le théologien fidjien recourt ensuite à La Trinité comme modèle de conceptualisation

des relations à l'intérieur de la triade vanua/lotu/matanitu. On voit ici se développer unevoie que Havea n'avait jusque-là fait qu'esquisser. Comme nous le verrons plus bas, il


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puise cette inspiration sur La Trinité dans le mouvement œcuménique et plusfondamentalement chez le théologien allemand Jürgen Moltmann qu'il citeabondamment 7. Ce locus théologique classique est envisagé à partir de deux axesmajeurs : le christocentrisme et l'éthique sociale.

22 La christologie prédomine nettement à l'intérieur même du trinitarisme affiché de

l'auteur. La réhabilitation d'une création « bonne » ou la valorisation de la culturecomme lieu de la révélation ne doivent pas occulter ce christocentrisme. La partiecentrale de son ouvrage majeur, Vanua, porte sur le Christ comme image ou interfaceentre Dieu et le pays. Or celui-ci ne peut se comprendre qu'en fonction d'un premierlieu, déjà donné et en même temps ultime, la croix de Jésus : « Y a-t-il une normechrétienne selon laquelle nous devrions vivre ? Oui, je crois qu'il y en a une et c'est lacroix du Christ. Voilà le seul point décisif pour distinguer ce qui est chrétien de ce quine l'est pas » (Tuwere, 1994 : 29).

23 Tuwere entend appliquer à l'éthique sociale la doctrine théologique de la Trinité qu'il

emprunte à Moltmann. C'est parce que la relation dite classiquement ad intra despersonnes de la Trinité se fonde sur l'amour et la compassion, que ce même amour peutrejaillir ad extra, c'est-à-dire dans la relation entre ces personnes et le monde. Le Père,le Fils et le Saint-Esprit servent de « paradigmes théologiques » car ils sont « desprincipes à la fois intégrateurs et critiques » (Tuwere, 2002 : 17). La Trinité opère donccomme archétype de l'unité dans la diversité, comme « base du pluralisme permettantde la différentiation mais sans séparation » (Tuwere, 1997 : 86). Pour le théologienfidjien ce schéma relationnel, analogue aux valeurs traditionnelles fidjiennes telles quel'écoute, présente un caractère heuristique capital dans une situation politique etethnique aussi tendue soit-elle. Il vise une « anthropologie théologique » destinée à ladélivrance d'une orientation éthique pour son propre peuple.

24 On ne peut comprendre cette posture théologique en dehors de la situation

existentielle de l'auteur qui la conditionne si fortement. D'un dogme de la Trinitépouvant si facilement servir de justification à une théologie de cabinet, Tuwereparvient à tirer une légitimation pour une théologie de la vie, pratique, faite deréconciliation et de justice sociale. Ces deux derniers points comme élémentsconstitutifs du vanua ressortent très clairement de l'étude de J. Ryle sur la cérémonie depardon – bulubulu – organisée à la mémoire du révérend Thomas Baker en 2003 : il est le« lieu du pardon à la fois horizontal et vertical ».

25 Enfin, le troisième lieu théologique important pour l'auteur concerne la création et son

articulation avec la rédemption. Loin de renier son héritage méthodiste, Tuwere estconscient du danger de présenter cette articulation sous la forme d'une alternativeruineuse. La notion fondamentale d'appartenance de l'humain au vanua permet authéologien fidjien de dessiner les contours de l'articulation entre création etrédemption en réhabilitant une conception holistique du salut. Sa sotériologie 8

s'appuie sur « l'ici et maintenant » de la présence du matanivanua, la « face du pays »,assimilée au Christ, laissant entendre par là que la rédemption se trouve au cœur mêmede la création et non en concurrence avec elle. Ce thème fondamental de la création estprécisément celui que va reprendre et approfondir le théologien samoan Tofaeono, en yadjoignant, comme nous allons le découvrir, celui de la famille élargie.


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Le concept d'« Aiga » chez Ama Amalele Tofaeono

26 Ama'amalele Tofaeono Siolo est originaire des Samoa Occidentales. Pasteur de l'Église

Congrégationaliste Chrétienne, il étudie la théologie au Collège Théologique de KananoFou situé aux Samoa Américaines, de 1986 à 1990. Issu d'une famille modeste, iltravaille temporairement pour les Parcs et Réserves Nationaux. De son propre aveu, ilne comprend pas vraiment le sens de ce « job » : « pourquoi se mettre au service desarbres, des oiseaux, des poissons et l'environnement plutôt qu'au service deshommes ? » Pourtant, cette expérience aura un impact sur sa recherche théologique :« mais en même temps, cela m'a confronté à la réalité de mon lien et de ma connexionau fanua 9 » (Tofaeono, 1993 : xii).

27 De 1991 à 1993, il poursuit ses études au PTC à Fidji pour une licence en théologie. Il

retourne ensuite à Kanano Fou où il enseigne une année avant de partir en Allemagneoù il soutient son doctorat en théologie en 2000.

28 De retour dans le Pacifique, il enseigne la dogmatique et l'éthique au PTC jusqu'en 2004.

Il est sollicité par des universités nord-américaines pour de courtes périodesd'enseignement, notamment à la Vancouver School of Theology ( University of British

Columbia). Il obtient un prix de l'Université de Berkeley en 2002 10 pour une rechercheconsacrée à « l'écothéologie du Moana (Océan) » et un autre décerné par l'Union

Seminary de New York pour un cours consacré à la « christologie du Pacifique ». En2006, Tofaeono s'installe à Auckland où il dessert une paroisse d'immigrés samoans.

29 Le point de départ de la théologie de Tofaeono n'a rien de proprement religieux mais

réside dans la prise au sérieux des menaces écologiques qui pèsent non seulement surson pays mais plus généralement sur l'ensemble du Pacifique. Ce n'est que dans undeuxième temps qu'il aura recours aux catégories « religio-culturelles » samoanes.

30 Les prolégomènes du raisonnement théologique de Tofaeono reposent sur trois

facteurs : la crise écologique mondiale et en particulier la pollution maritime ; ledévoiement du christianisme par la culture occidentale sous l'ère missionnaire, maiségalement depuis l'antiquité et l'influence hellénistique ; la culture samoane àredécouvrir comme « clé herméneutique » de tout système théologique.

31 Comment retrouver un christianisme authentique, c'est-à-dire fidèle à la fois à son

inspiration scripturaire et à la faa Samoa, la culture et manière de vivre samoane ? Lasolution proposée par Tofaeono est d'élaborer une écothéologie. Au centre d'une tellethéologie, la création et la rédemption ont une place essentielle. La nécessité de sortird'une vision anthropocentrique de la création est mise en avant : des échos et destraces du divin se manifestent dans l'héritage religio-culturel relaté dans lesexpressions mythiques et les traditions orales de Samoa (Tofaeono, 2000 : 20).

32 Au centre de la faa Samoa se trouvent la maison et la cellule familiale – aiga –concept

capital pour la pensée écothéologique de Tofaeono. Aiga exprime en effet à lui seul laplénitude de la vie samoane. Il relie le divin et l'ordinaire dans une synthèseexistentiale. Le concept d'aiga dans son acception écologique comporte également uneorientation existentielle : bien que lié à un lieu précis et situé dans le temps, il élargitson horizon aux sources de la vie – Dieu, esprits et ancêtres – et anticipe simultanémentle futur de la vie. C'est une institution et un concept qui donnent forme à la vie de lacommunauté dans toutes ses dimensions. Pour Tofaeono, aiga est le paradigme à partirduquel tout Samoan serait à même de saisir le concept chrétien de Trinité dans toute sa


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profondeur : « Je suggère l'image indigène de l'aiga 11 comme métaphore théologiqueunifiante » (Tofaeono, 1993 : 95).

33 Dans un second temps, Tofaeono articule l'aiga au modèle théologique de La Trinité. En

examinant plus particulièrement sa christologie, il apparaît que, comme chez Tuwere,les concepts de mana et de tapu paraissent les plus adéquats pour qualifier le Christ,tout en y ajoutant sa place bien particulière au sein l'aiga puisqu'il est serviteur, tautua.Ce mot exprime une relation interactive de tous les membres de l'aiga avec lespuissances ou agents cosmiques mana et tapu. Le Christ est compris comme une énergiesurnaturelle et sainte qui fait le pont entre l'ordinaire et le spirituel. Or en tant queSagesse, Christ est « énergie transcendante » et « médiateur de la vie ».

34 De plus, le Christ serviteur (tautua) renforce l'alliance du cosmologique et de

l'anthropologique : « dans le contexte de l'aiga, tautua est accompli pour le biencommun et la sauvegarde de tous les membres de la famille. » Jésus et les pauvres, telque Luc nous le présente, trouve un écho pertinent dans la situation des Samoans :« Comme gens de la terre, les Samoans et les Océaniens ne sont pas vraiment concernéspar le problème de la pauvreté et dans un certain sens, personne ne meurt de faim oun'est sans abri. Mais les forces du développement moderne technologique etéconomique sont maintenant une menace. Ces forces introduisent un esprit decompétition qui entraîne l'individualisme. Ces forces essaient d'introduire laprivatisation et la commercialisation du système foncier, exacerbent l'industrie de lapêche et tentent d'élever tout le monde aux standards des autres » (Tofaeono, 2000 :256-257). Recourant à l'étymologie, Tofaeono explique que dans la conception samoanedu chef, « celui-ci est œil (mata) posé sur l'ai (prospérité) dont dépend l'aiga ». Ainsi,par le biais de ce titre de matai, la christologie établit un pont entre écologie etéconomie, conformément à la double connotation de l'association aiga/oikos.

Continuités et mutations du discours théologiqueocéanien contemporain

35 Ces trois théologiens océaniens entendent s'inscrire dans la continuité du discours

dogmatique protestant traditionnel. À cet égard, leur passage obligé par le dogme de laTrinité est symptomatique, même si ce dernier se voit revisité dans son contenudogmatique au prix d'un effort herméneutique considérable. Havea en particulier, neremet jamais en cause ni le dogme trinitaire, ni la place centrale de la figure du Christdans l'économie du salut. Son combat pour une contextualisation de l'Évangile porteselon lui sur un changement de méthode et non sur un contenu dogmatique qui entendrester très classique et fidèle à l'héritage missionnaire anglais du XIXe siècle.

La « disponibilité » de l'Évangile

36 Cet effort ne masque cependant pas une première mutation : la réinterprétation de la

tradition est réalisée à travers ce qu'il appelle la disponibilité de l'Évangile dès laPentecôte. Selon lui, les effets de l'ephapax christique ne se sont pas limités auxfrontières connues par les auteurs bibliques, mais ont touché tous les rivages de la terrey compris les peuples du Pacifique. De sorte que l'action d'évangélisation desmissionnaires ne se présente plus comme une « première annonce » mais comme une


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« révélation » d'une grâce déjà là, « disponible ». Cette thèse suscitera – et susciteencore – quelques résistances 12.

37 L'herméneutique du symbole entraîne donc inévitablement une réinterprétation –

voire une subversion – du dogme traditionnel dans la mesure où ce dernier ne sert plusque de support ou de caution à l'élaboration d'une nouvelle démarche fondée sur ledonné anthropologique. C'est précisément ce processus que la missiologie qualifie decontextualisation. La primauté chronologique de la culture sur l'Évangile n'impliquenullement un développement parallèle des deux pôles mais aboutit à la création d'unnouveau cadre de référence, un « troisième espace ni purement occidental, nipurement indigène » comme le définit J. Barker et qui est tout sauf immuable.

Une contextualisation critique

38 Dans cette perspective, l'ouvrage majeur de Tuwere, Vanua, Towards a fijian theology of

place constitue une seconde mutation en tant qu'illustration de la contextualisation del'Évangile à partir de la question de la terre et de l'identité. La nouveauté de Tuwerepour la théologie océanienne réside avant tout dans ses efforts de systématisation de laproblématique de la contextualisation qu'il est légitime de qualifier de critique : « Lavraie contextualisation, c'est donner à l'Évangile la primauté, l'autorité et le pouvoir depénétrer chaque culture pour que se fasse entendre à l'intérieur de celle-ci la Parole quiest à la fois oui et non, haine et amour, jugement et grâce » (Tuwere, 2002 : 11). Maisl'appartenance d'une communauté chrétienne à l'oikuménè est pour Tuwere tout aussiimportante en ce qu'elle peut prévenir des tentations et dérives culturalistes etcommunautaristes : « Notre tendance naturelle à l'égoïsme nécessite la correction deceux qui partagent la vie en Christ mais qui habitent différentes situations culturelles.La théologie contextuelle doit accepter des corrections de la part de ceux qui partagentla même foi que nous mais qui appartiennent à une autre culture » (Tuwere, 2002 : 12).L'Évangile fonctionne ainsi pour Tuwere comme un correctif à la culture en raison deses implications éthiques. Dès lors, les mutations culturelles ne puisent pas leur sourcedans la tradition mais bien dans l'herméneutique, dans l'effort d'interprétation dutexte qui est la marque de fabrique du christianisme, en particulier du protestantisme.

Un christianisme holiste

39 Ce criticisme contraste avec le projet théologique de Tofaeono, porteur d'une troisième

mutation par l'articulation entre concepts religio-culturels samoans et questionsécologiques. L'Évangile est ici conçu d'une manière résolument inclusive, « w/holistic »selon ses propres termes, c'est-à-dire à la fois holiste et porteuse de plénitude. Penser àpartir de ses propres concepts culturels – et non plus selon un modèle importé – tel estle défi relevé par le théologien samoan. En mettant l'accent sur l'aspectinterrelationnel de toutes les créatures comme ancrage – voire image – de la relationtrinitaire, il s'inscrit résolument dans une démarche théologique relevant del'orthopraxie, se détachant nettement de paradigmes théologiques plutôt basés jusque-là sur un raisonnement dichotomique. Se détournant d'un point de vue qu'il juge trop« anthropocentrique », il entreprend une théologie « théocentrique et/ou théo-écologique » dont la principale implication sera de déboucher sur une « spiritualité


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éco-éthique » témoignant de l'activité du Dieu vivant au sein de la création (Tofaeono,2000 : 289).

40 La mise en perspective de ces trois théologiens permet de mesurer le déplacement du

discours théologique par rapport à la culture. Tous revendiquent une continuité quasiapostolique de l'oikuménè mais chacun développe un éthos bien particulier :foncièrement culturel pour Havea, politique pour Tuwere, écologique pour Tofaeono.Cette distorsion entre une continuité formelle affichée sur le plan de la foi,œcuménique, et la réalité d'une nouvelle foi, en phase avec la culture, relève selon nousde la double problématique du syncrétisme et du traditionalisme, dont l'une descaractéristiques serait, selon A. Babadzan, la « volonté délibérée de réinventer le passéen fonction des intérêts du présent » (Babadzan, 2009 : 207).

Essai de périodisation de la théologie contemporaine

41 Au terme de la présentation de ces trois théologiens du Pacifique, nous voudrions

proposer une périodisation historique de la contextualisation de ce discours religieuxspécifique depuis les années 1960. Nous croyons pouvoir y discerner trois phases.

Des années 1970 aux années 1980 : une théologie de l'identité

42 Dans cette période émergent une théologie et une identité océaniennes grâce à Sione

Amanaki Havea. Il introduit l'utilisation de symboles culturels – dont la célèbre« théologie du coco », la nécessaire révision d'une définition de la Trinité et de lachristologie avec la recherche d'un « Christ du Pacifique » et le passage d'une théologieoccidentale dialectique et critique à une théologie océanienne du don et de lacélébration. En 1983, S. A. Havea conduisit la délégation des Églises du Pacifique àl'Assemblée du COE de Vancouver. Cette manifestation marque à la fois le sommet et lafin de son influence directe sur la pensée théologique et sur la vie des Églises au niveaurégional. C'est à cette occasion que le monde œcuménique reconnut pour la premièrefois le continent océanien comme une entité propre – détachée de l'associationhabituelle « Asie-Pacifique ». L'assemblée put prendre toute la mesure de ce queC. Forman (1986) appelle « l'identité chrétienne du Pacifique ». En cherchant la voied'une « pacifitude de la théologie », Havea ne fait au fond que reproduire, sur un modereligieux, le discours politique et culturel nationaliste de la Pacific Way 13 sous-tendu parl'idéologie de la coutume qui apparaît à la fin des années 1960 au moment où la plupartdes États insulaires du Pacifique accèdent à leur indépendance 14. Cette identitéocéanienne, ce Pacific way dérive aussi bien du passé, des intérêts communs et desattitudes culturelles traditionnelles, que du présent et du futur en raison des défis etdangers auxquels les chrétiens insulaires du Pacifique sont déjà ou vont êtreincessamment confrontés. La théologie contextuelle de Havea trouve ici sa limite : faceà une mondialisation qui ne dit pas encore son nom, ne risque-t-elle pas d'articulertrop artificiellement des symboles culturels spécifiques océaniens à une réalitémarquée par l'urbanisation et son corollaire, l'exode rural, des échanges économiquescroissants et le développement rapide des communications, vecteurs de nouvellesvisions du monde et donc de compétition entre Églises, signe distinctif de la « troisièmevague » définie par J. Barker 15 ?


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43 Outre cet aspect sociopolitique, le désir de Havea de « théologiser » sur des bases

proprement océaniennes, et non plus dans un cadre occidental prédéfini, est égalementà replacer au sein des débats théologiques du mouvement missionnaire et œcuméniquemondial. Présent dans les instances œcuméniques mondiales de 1954 à 1983, lethéologien tongien en reprend les grandes orientations. Cela apparaît de manièreflagrante lorsqu'on met en regard ses idées et les trois principaux thèmes de laconférence du Conseil International des Missions (CIM) tenue à Wilingen en 1952 : laréaffirmation trinitaire de la mission, avec le fameux mot d'ordre « missio Dei » ;l'importance de la figure du Christ incarné et solidaire des hommes de son temps, ladéfinition de l'Église comme « peuple de Dieu » dans le monde (Zorn, 1998). Cetteparenté se vérifie également par rapport au refus d'une régionalisation de l'Évangile etson pendant : l'affirmation de l'unité et de l'universalité de l'Église. Selon MarcSpindler (Spindler, 1967 : 71), c'est à Willingen que la « théologie de l'enracinement del'Évangile dans la culture trouve sa propre limite : il ne s'agit pas d'être enraciné dansle sol mais d'être en relation avec le sol. L'Église ne peut être enracinée qu'en Christ. »De même, il faut relever que la métaphore utilisée par Havea « de la plante et du pot »exprimant la transplantation artificielle de l'Évangile dans son emballage occidental estun emprunt direct à Daniel T. Niles : « nous voulons la plante de l'Évangile et non le potet la terre dans lesquels vous [i.e. les missionnaires] nous l'apportez » (Spindler, 1967 :51). Cette citation – reprise textuellement par Havea – est typique du reproche fait à laMission par les jeunes Églises au lendemain de leur autonomie que M. Spindler qualifie« d'occidentalisme ». Enfin, la recherche par S. A. Havea d'une nouvelle herméneutiquethéologique s'affirmant contre le « moule » théologique occidental se situe dans le droitfil de la conférence missionnaire mondiale de Bangkok 16 en 1972, où « la revendicationd'une théologie contextuelle apparaît sur la scène internationale, comme contestationde la domination missionnaire » (Matthey, 1998 : 51).

44 Replacée dans le contexte missiologique international de l'époque, la pensée de Havea

correspond donc parfaitement aux aspirations du temps. Relevons toutefois que lesthématiques qui s'en dégagent s'orientent différemment par rapport aux autrescontinents. En effet, elles ne prennent pas un tour politique comme dans le cas de lathéologie de la libération latino-américaine par exemple. Elles semblent davantages'orienter vers la quête d'identité que connaît la théologie africaine à la même époquemais, contrairement à cette dernière, elles ne débouchent pas vers une « théologie ducri », de la souffrance du colonisé obligé de se reconstruire dans tous les domaines de savie 17. Elles se démarquent encore de la théologie asiatique davantage préoccupée par lepluralisme des religions. On retiendra cependant ici une proximité entre l'Asie et lePacifique dans le recours au symbole et à la diversification des expressionsthéologiques non seulement à travers le discours mais aussi par la danse et laritualité 18.

Des années 1980 à la fin des années 1990 : le temps de l'affirmation

de la culture océanienne et de la contextualisation de la théologie

45 Cette époque est marquée par Sevati Tuwere qui promeut inlassablement le concept

d'une théologie spécifiquement océanienne. Il se démarque toutefois de sonprédécesseur en systématisant davantage sa réflexion, notamment en plaçant lacontextualisation au centre de sa démarche théologique. Deux influences majeures


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s'exercent selon nous sur sa théologie de la terre : d'une part celle de Moltmann, àtravers la primauté de la création sur la rédemption dans l'économie du salut, ainsi quepar l'utilisation du modèle trinitaire définissant les relations entre les personnes dela Trinité, « communauté en communion », comme matrice possible des relationshumaines ; d'autre part celle la réflexion initiée par le COE centrée sur la thématique« Justice, Paix et sauvegarde de la création » plaçant au cœur du débat théologique laquestion de la justice sociale et un début de réflexion écologique. Ces deux courantsrepérables dans les écrits de Tuwere, ont permis à la théologie du Pacifique et auxÉglises de ne pas rester dans la problématique de l'identité culturelle, mais de s'ouvrirdavantage au monde. Nous qualifions cette ère nouvelle, la décennie 1980-1990, de« temps de l'affirmation » de la théologie contextuelle du Pacifique, par opposition autemps précédent où il s'agissait de construire et de rendre visible une entitéœcuménique commune.

46 Au niveau ecclésial régional on observe, sinon une influence directe, du moins une forte

convergence entre la ligne théologico-éthique de théologiens professionnels tels queHavea et Tuwere d'une part, et la ligne sociopolitique et économique de chrétiens laïcsengagés pour la justice sociale tels que Suliana Siwatibau 19. Régulièrement invitéecomme personne-ressource dans les assemblées d'Églises, ses discours relèvent de lamême veine anthropothéologique que les écrits de Tuwere 20.

47 De plus, il est également un autre lieu où l'impact théologique de Tuwere est très

prononcé : l'Association des Écoles de Théologie du Pacifique Sud (SPATS). Il participeactivement à la vie et au renouveau de l'association qui était un peu en sommeil depuisles années 1970. De 1985 à 1999, il n'intervient pas moins de sept fois en tantqu'organisateur et formateur de réunions théologiques régionales. Si l'on excepte sapériode de formation en Australie de 1989 à 1992, on s'aperçoit que Tuwere a nourri lapensée théologique dans le Pacifique insulaire pendant une bonne quinzaine d'années.À cela s'ajoute son engagement politique personnel en 2000 apportant un surplus decrédibilité éthique à sa théologie propre à renforcer son audience.

Des années 1990 au début des années 2000 : le temps du dialogue

48 Enfin, dans cette dernière décennie du XXe siècle s'ouvre le temps du dialogue entre la

culture océanienne et l'oikuménè avec Ama Tofaeono. Sa thèse sur l' aiga commeparadigme d'une écothéologie samoane extensible aux autres cultures du Pacifique, etses recherches sur l'océan comme lieu de la révélation dans la création et la culturetémoignent d'une étape supplémentaire dans la contextualisation de la théologie. Auniveau régional elle trouve un écho dans la recherche menée à Tahiti sur l'identitéma'ohi et le fenua comme lieu de la révélation de l'identité de l'homme et de lathéophanie. Cependant, elle s'en démarque sensiblement en ce qu'elle entre endialogue critique avec des traditions chrétiennes anciennes ou culturellementéloignées, de même qu'elle se confronte aux théologies occidentales du Vieux et duNouveau continent.

49 Comme ses prédécesseurs Havea et Tuwere, Tofaeono est grandement influencé par les

orientations théologiques du COE, en particulier par la réflexion des années 1990autour de « Justice, Paix et Sauvegarde de la création ». Lui aussi reprend les thèmesmoltmanniens de la création et de La Trinité comme modèle de relations justes, tout eninsistant, davantage que Tuwere, sur la christologie. Le « Christ cosmique » ainsi que le


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« Christ de l'Esprit » cher au théologien allemand (Moltmann, 1993) lui fournit le cadrethéorique permettant d'introduire les notions culturelles samoanes du Christ commechef dans sa double fonction de souverain (matai) et de serviteur (tautua), attentif à lasituation des plus pauvres : « Jésus prêche un Évangile réaliste et non idéaliste, assurantaux pauvres une nouvelle réalité vivante » (Tofaeono, 2000 : 258).

50 À côté de ce maître, la réflexion plus politique de Leonardo Boff, Paulo Freire et

Dorothee Söllese se retrouve également sous la plume de Tofaeono, ainsi que celle duthéologien du Nicaragua au service du COE, Julio de Santa Ana, sur les questions de lajustice économique et de la colonisation. Enfin, l'auteur se dit lui-même impressionnépar ses rencontres avec un théologien amérindien, George Tinka, et surtout avec lathéologienne américaine Sally Mac Fague, à la fois pour sa critique de l'imagepaternaliste de Dieu et pour l'orientation écologique de sa théologie 21.

51 Par rapport à Havea et Tuwere, nous voudrions souligner la diversité de ces théologiens

composant l'univers de pensée de Tofaeono à côté des ressources propres de sa culture.Certes, tous se retrouvent autour de préoccupations écothéologiques, mais ce quiretient avant tout notre attention est la pluralité géographique et culturelle de cesliens, puisque le « vieux » continent européen où l'auteur a rédigé l'essentiel de sathèse est aussi bien représenté que le « nouveau » continent américain. Nous voyons làl'illustration du projet de l'auteur : loin de s'enfermer dans une théologie contextuelleidentitaire et exclusiviste, il s'attache plutôt à faire dialoguer des théologies de toushorizons pour contribuer à un enrichissement mondial de la théologie dans le cadre del'oikuménè. En d'autres termes, chaque tradition peut, selon lui, apporter sa pierre àl'édifice mondial et œcuménique que représente le projet d'une éco-théologie, quandbien même celle-ci s'incarnerait dans une culture particulière, celle des Samoa enl'occurrence.

52 Puisant à ces différentes sources, la contextualisation de la théologie océanienne se

veut à présent consciente de son déploiement dans le monde œcuménique au niveaumondial, non seulement pour y apporter sa contribution mais aussi pour s'en enrichir.Elle devient une recherche exigeante, académique, inclinant parfois au repli identitaire,tentant d'assumer ses multiples héritages historiques, bibliques et culturels dans dessynthèses où discours religieux et culturels s'auto-légitiment sans cesse.

53 En examinant le processus de contextualisation de la théologie dans le Pacifique d'un

point de vue missiologique, on constate que « l'élite » de la pensée chrétienneprotestante post-missionnaire a sans cesse cherché à dépasser la problématique de lacontinuité culturelle et des mutations sociales. S'appuyant sur une herméneutique dusymbole, elle s'efforce de faire évoluer le cadre culturel dans un sens éthique, voireéthico-écologique. On peut toutefois s'interroger sur la portée ecclésiale de ce discoursintellectuel idéalisé sur la terre, vanua, ou la maisonnée, aiga sur le terrain, dans lamesure où il est produit par des théologiens précisément de plus en plus détachés deces réalités. Dans les sociétés océaniennes, la fonction du théologien se situe à laconfluence de l'homme de pouvoir, a fortiori s'il est investi par une institution commecela a été le cas pour Havea et Tuwere, et de la figure de l'intellectuel, du sage,dépositaire de la sacralité d'une parole transcendante au poids non négligeable dans lechamp social 22.


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Conclusion

54 Au terme de la présentation de ces trois théologiens océaniens contemporains, une

question demeure toutefois : quelle est la portée effective – au-delà du seul discours –sur les institutions ecclésiales et la vie paroissiale « de base » de cette parolethéologique se prétendant spécifiquement océanienne, reprenant sur un modereligieux les propos politiques sur la coutume fondés sur l'idéologie de la Pacific Way,exaltant le partage de la terre dans une paix fraternelle ou privilégiant une approchecosmologique dépassant le seul espace océanien ? Étudiant un phénomènecontemporain dont les effets se poursuivent toujours sous nos yeux, il seraitprésomptueux d'apporter ici une réponse définitive. Deux caractéristiques méritentcependant d'être soulignées.

55 La première consiste dans la localisation de la prise de parole de ces théologiens et de

leur distanciation. En effet, tous trois ont enseigné, écrit et développé leurs thèses àpartir de Suva, capitale régionale géopolitique, académique, mais aussi ecclésiale,puisqu'elle abrite à la fois la PCC et les deux collèges de formation théologiquesupérieurs. Cette position centrale a très certainement favorisé la diffusion et lamédiatisation – ceci se vérifie en particulier pour Tuwere – de leur théologie, àl'intérieur de la zone Pacifique, mais aussi en direction de l'extérieur, dans les milieuxacadémiques et ecclésiaux. En revanche, excepté pour Tuwere, l'impact de leurthéologie dans leur île d'origine est plus mitigé : l'un des opposants les plus farouches àla contextualisation de la théologie à partir du symbolisme culturel telle que ledéfendait Havea est l'un de ses compatriotes, Ma'afu Palu, enseignant au Collègethéologique de Sia'atoutai 23. Quant à Tofaeono, il ne semble pas que son enseignementécothéologique trouve à ce jour un écho significatif dans les collèges théologiques desSamoa de Malua, Piula ou Kanana Fou. En outre les obstacles « administratifs 24 » l'ayantempêché de reprendre son enseignement au PTC peuvent laisser penser que ses thèsessont loin de faire l'unanimité au sein de toutes les Églises du Pacifique, seulesresponsables de la nomination des enseignants de cette institution. Il semble donc quel'impact de ce discours religieux culturel se soit porté sur un cercle restreint : lesétudiants du PTC et une intelligentsia océanienne de théologiens participantrégulièrement aux colloques théologiques organisés sous l'égide de la SPATS ou lectricede son principal outil de diffusion, le Pacific Journal of Theology.

56 La deuxième caractéristique qui tend à infléchir l'impact de ce nouveau discours

religieux tient à la propension des théologiens océaniens, dont Tuwere et Tofaeono, às'exiler pour enseigner en Australie ou en Nouvelle-Zélande 25. Outre de meilleuresconditions matérielles, ce positionnement « extérieur » présente le double avantaged'une plus grande liberté de parole par rapport à leur Église d'origine, ainsi que d'unmoindre isolement, donc d'une meilleure diffusion de leurs idées au niveauinternational, comme en témoigne par exemple l'attribution académique de deux prixthéologiques pour Tofaeono, laissant à penser que ce dernier est plus connu aux États-Unis qu'à Samoa. Dans le même ordre d'idée, nous avons montré ailleurs que la« théologie de la célébration » de Havea ne s'est pas vraiment traduite sur le planliturgique au niveau des congrégations mais plutôt dans le cadre restreint decélébrations « exceptionnelles » régionales (Vidal, 2011 : 336).

57 Finalement, le plus grand défi de la contextualisation de la théologie en Océanie sera

peut-être, dans les années qui viennent, de parvenir à saisir la nature constamment


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dynamique des contextes sociaux et des mutations religieuses à l'œuvre dans la région,largement conditionnés par le double mouvement de l'urbanisation et de lamondialisation.

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NOTES

1. Pacific Conference of Churches (PCC).

2. Le Centre de formation pratique et théologique des femmes du PTC porte aujourd'hui son

nom.

3. Voir sur ce point Tuwere, 1993.

4. En anglais « womb », litt. « utérus ».

5. Ou le « pays », « land » en anglais. Nous abordons ici une difficulté de traduction importante :

faut-il parler de « pays » avec une connotation relevant plutôt de la géographie humaine ou de

« terre » dans l'optique d'une géographie physique ? En choisissant l'une ou l'autre traduction on

risque de donner à la théologie de Tuwere soit une connotation ethnique soit une connotation

politique.


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6. Litt. « une fois pour toutes ». Cette expression dénote le caractère fondamentalement unique

d'un événement, ici la Révélation.

7. Pas moins de cinq ouvrages dans la bibliographie de Vanua, towards a Fidjian Theology of Place.

Jürgen Moltmann (1926-) est un théologien allemand de tradition réformée développant une

théologie politique, puis à partir des années 1980, une théologie écologique qui influence

fortement le COE. L'une des marques de sa pensée est de se situer dans un cadre trinitaire à

l'intérieur duquel se joue la dynamique de la divinité.

8. La sotériologie est la doctrine du Salut.

9. Fanua est l'équivalent samoan du fidjien vanua ou du tahitien fenua : la terre et la mer, le pays

et tout ce qu'il contient.

10. CNTS Science et Religion Course Award Competition.

11. Home : famille ou maisonnée.

12. Bruno Saura (Saura, 2003) a relevé ce point et montré la contiguïté de pensée entre Havea et

la « nouvelle théologie » tahitienne qu'il étudie à travers l'œuvre du théologien ma'ohi Turo

Raapoto : « Havea fait à la fois preuve de plus de prudence [que Raapoto], dans la mesure où il

admet que cette présence n'était qu'inconsciente, mais aussi plus d'audace lorsqu'il signifie que

les scènes de la Pentecôte ou le sacrifice du Christ ont eu un effet à l'échelle de la terre entière, y

compris des îles du Pacifique ».

13. D'après Frédéric Rognon, on peut synthétiser la Pacific Way comme un discours mettant en

relief les valeurs suivantes : « sens de l'hospitalité, fraternité et unité, recherche du consensus,

soin (care) pour le prochain, sens de la vie communautaire et de la solidarité

intergénérationnelle, respect des anciens et des chefs, etc. » (Rognon, 1991 : 200).

14. Pour mémoire, au cours de la décennie 1970-1980 les indépendances des pays insulaires du

Pacifique se sont échelonnées comme suit : Samoa Occidentales en 1962, Nauru en 1968, Fidji et

Tonga en 1970, Papouasie Nouvelle-Guinée en 1975, Tuvalu (Ellice) en 1978, Kiribati (Gilbert) en

1979, Vanuatu (Nouvelles-Hébrides) en 1980 (De Dekker, 1985).

15. Selon J. Barker, la « troisième vague » missionnaire s'étendant du milieu des années 1960 à

nos jours est caractérisée par la décolonisation des missions, la naissance d'Églises nationales et

l'indigénisation du clergé. Il conviendrait d'ajouter la régionalisation des institutions qui font

émerger la conscience d'une spécificité océanienne chrétienne face aux autres continents.

16. Le moratoire en question, demandé par les théologiens « du Sud », stipulait le retrait de tout

missionnaire expatrié, afin de laisser aux Églises locales le soin de se forger leur propre

programme et d'assurer leur autosuffisance (Matthey, 1998 : 51-52).

17. Sur ce point, voir K. Blaser qui discerne une évolution de la théologie africaine allant de

l'inculturation à la reconstruction (Blaser, 1995 : 278-280).

18. Blaser donne l'exemple de la prestation de Mme Chung lors de l'assemblée mondiale du COE

à Canberra en 1991 et conclut : « un nouveau mode de réflexion théologique et missionnaire

s'affirme ici : on est dans le contexte du dialogue entre les cultures et il s'agit de se communiquer

les symboles et les rituels, de se communiquer par eux » (Blaser, 1995 : 289).

19. S. Siwatibau est intervenue à chaque assemblée de la PCC en 1981, 1986 et 1991. Elle a

travaillé par la suite pour le compte du gouvernement fidjien, ainsi que pour des ONG, surtout

dans le cadre de programmes de l'ONU.

20. « Nous n'avons pas su reconnaître que les esprits que nos ancêtres adoraient, les gardiens de

notre environnement, n'étaient que des manifestations de notre conception encore limitée du

seul Dieu véritable que nous adorons maintenant en tant que chrétiens. [...] Dieu, le Créateur, le

Tout-Puissant, celui qui sait tout, est partout, il n'a pas changé : c'est notre conception de ce

même être qui a changé avec la christianisation (Siwatibau, 1991 : 19).

21. Entretien avec l'auteur, 16 septembre 2006, Suva.

22. F. Douaire-Marsaudon mentionne par exemple la prise de position publique de Havea pour

une séparation entre l'Église et l'État, alors qu'il était président de la Free Wesleyan Church of


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Tonga, une Église créée par la monarchie tongienne au XIXe siècle et dépendant étroitement de

son pouvoir (Douaire-Marsaudon, 2010 : 75).

23. Il s'agit de Ma'afu ‘o Tu'itonga Palu. Voir Palu, 2002.

24. Selon les termes mêmes de Tofaeono lors d'un entretien personnel.

25. Plusieurs enseignants-chercheurs ont choisi cette voie de l'exil après un temps

d'enseignement au PTC : Toa Finau, John Havea, Jovili Meo, etc.

RÉSUMÉS

Cet article propose de considérer le discours religieux chrétien océanien contemporain, dans sa

version protestante, comme lieu privilégié de changement du champ social. Selon une approche

dialogique entre théologie, anthropologie et histoire, trois concepts-clés élaborés par trois

« figures de proue » de la théologie protestante océanienne contemporaine sont tout d'abord

étudiés : la communauté chez le Tongien Sione Amanaki Havea, le vanua (le pays) chez le Fidjien

Sevati Tuwere et l'aiga (la famille élargie) chez le Samoan Ama Amalele Tofaeono. Dans un

deuxième temps, il s'agit de montrer comment ces trois concepts s'inscrivent, dans le discours

théologique, soit dans une certaine continuité par rapport à la théologie missionnaire héritée de

la fin du XIXe et du début de XXe, soit au contraire dans une transformation entre

contextualisation critique et christianisme de type holiste. Puis une périodisation de la théologie

protestante océanienne des années 1970 aux années 2000 est proposée, partant d'une « théologie

de l'identité » se voulant ancrée dans la tradition pour aboutir à une théologie interculturelle

fondée sur le dialogue œcuménique. La conclusion tente enfin d'évaluer la portée effective sur les

institutions ecclésiales de ce discours tenu, comme on le découvrira, par des intellectuels urbains

largement influencés par l'idéologie panocéanienne de la Pacific Way.

This paper sets out to consider protestant religious discourse in contemporary oceania as a

particularly valuable place to observe change in society. In the first part, three key concepts

developed by three “figureheads” of contemporary protestant theology in the Pacific are

discussed: the concept of community in the work of the Tongan Sione Amanaki Havea, vanua

(land) in that of the Fijian theologian Sevati Tuwere, and aiga (or extended family) in that of the

Samoan Ama Amalele Tofaeono. The second part of the paper shows how these three concepts

have remained in theological thinking either as a continuation of missionary theology from the

end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20 th century or, on the other hand, as a

transformation between critical contextualisation and a holistic type of Christianity. Next, a

division of the protestant theology in the Pacific from the 1970s to the 2000s in different phases

is given, showing the evolution from a theology of identity based on tradition to an intercultural

theology based on ecumenical dialogic. Finally, the conclusion evaluates the effective impact on

church institutions of the discourse of urban intellectuals broadly influenced by the Panoceanian

“Pacific way” ideology.

Este artículo propone considerar el discurso religioso cristiano del Pacífico Sur contemporáneo,

en su versión protestante, como un lugar privilegiado de cambio del campo social. Desde un

punto de vista dialógico entre teología, antropología e historia, tres conceptos claves elaborados

por tres grandes figuras de la teología protestante contemporánea del Pacífico serán estudiados

en primer lugar: la comunidad en la obra del tongano Sione Amanaki Havea, el vanua (el país) en


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la obra del fiyiano Sevati Tuwere y el aiga (la familia ampliada) en la obra del samoano Ama

Amalele Tofaeono. En segundo lugar, se trata de mostrar cómo estos tres conceptos se inscriben

en el discurso teológico, sea en cierta continuidad respecto a la teología misionera heredada de

finales del siglo XIX y principios del siglo XX, sea al contrario en una transformación entre

contextualización crítica y cristianismo de tipo holístico. Luego, se propone una periodización de

la teología protestante del Pacífico de los años 1970 a los años 2000, partiendo de una “teología de

la identidad” arraigada en la tradición, para llegar a una teología intercultural fundada en el

diálogo ecuménico. Por último, la conclusión trata de evaluar el alcance efectivo sobre las

instituciones eclesiásticas de este discurso sostenido, como veremos, por intelectuales urbanos

ampliamente influenciados por la ideología pan-pacifica de la Pacific Way.

INDEX

Mots-clés : christianisme, Océanie, théologie contextuelle, missiologie

Palabras claves : cristiandad, Oceanía, teología contextual, misiología

Keywords : Christianity, Oceania, contextual theology, missiology

AUTEUR

GILLES VIDAL

Centre Maurice-Leenhardt de recherche en Missiologie, Institut Protestant de Théologie – Faculté de

Montpellier, [email protected]


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Documents

Archives de sciences sociales des religions, 157