The People of the Book

Don Richardson

The Karen of Burma

Near Rangoon, Burma, in the year 1795, an encounter took place in the following manner:

“If the inhabitants of that village are not Burmese,” asked a sun-helmeted English diplomat, “what do they call themselves?”

“Karen,” replied the diplomat's Burmese guide.

“Carian,” mispronounced the Englishman. The guide left the mistake uncorrected. A Scotsman could have duplicated the Asiatic way of flipping the tongue on an r, but the guide had long ago given up trying to persuade Englishmen that the difference was worth mastering.

“Very well,” said the Britisher. “Let's see what these ‘Carianers' look like.”

The “Carainers,” it turned out, were even more interested to discover what the Englishman looked like! This first encounter with a European's white face electrified people in that village. Drawn like moths to a lamp, they converged upon the diplomat, who recoiled slightly as wiry, brown hands reached out to touch his arms and cheeks.

The Burmese guide, meanwhile, spoke disparagingly of the Karen: “Be careful! They're just wild hill people given to stealing and fighting.” He scoffed.

It was not entirely true. The Karen were in fact the most progressive of Burma's many tribal peoples. Burmese, however, had abused and exploited the Karen for centuries, making such descriptions self-fulfilling.

Nor could Burmese Buddhists forgive the Karen minority for stubbornly adhering to their own folk religion in the face of unremitting attempts by the Burmese to make Buddhists of them!

The Englishman, in any case, was no longer listening to his guide. Cheerful Karen voices now charmed his ears. Every man, woman, and child around him glowed with radiant welcome. How refreshingly different, he thought from the usual Burmese crowd's aloofness toward foreigners.

A Karen man who could speak Burmese explained something to the guide.

“This is most interesting,” the guide said. “These tribesmen think you may be a certain ‘white brother' whom they as a people have been expecting from time immemorial!”

“How curious,” replied the diplomat. “Ask them what this ‘white brother' is supposed to do when he arrives.”

“He's supposed to bring them a book,” the guide said. “A book just like one their forefathers lost long ago. They are asking—with bated breath—‘hasn't he brought it?'”

“Ho! Ho!” the Englishman guffawed. “And who, pray tell, is the author whose book has power to charm illiterate folk like these?”

“They say the author is Y'wa—the Supreme God. They say also…” At this point the Burman's face began to darken with unease, “… that the white brother, having given them the lost book, will thereby set them free from all who oppress them.”

The Burman began to fidget. The nerve of these Karen! This English diplomat was part of a team sent to arbitrate a dispute between Britain and Burma—a dispute which Burma feared might give Britain pretext to add Burma to its empire. And now these wily Karen were practically inviting the British to do just that! Who would have guessed, he fumed, that simple tribesmen could be capable of such subtlety?

Sensing the guide's displeasure, the Englishman also began to squirm. One word from the guide and Burmese authorities might descend with swords and spears against these humble villagers.

“Tell them they're mistaken,” he ordered, hoping to set the Burman at ease. “I have no acquaintance with this god called Y'wa. Nor do I have the slightest idea who their ‘white brother' could be.”

Followed by the guide, the diplomat strode out of the village. Hundreds of Karen, paled with disappointment, watched him leave. They intended no political ploy. They had simply repeated in all sincerity a tradition which had haunted them as a people since antiquity.

“Could our forefathers have been mistaken?” asked a young Karen.

“Don't worry,” responded an elder, managing a hopeful smile. “One day he will come. Other prophecies may fail, but not this one!”

In perhaps a thousand or more Karen villages of Burma, men called Bukhos, a special kind of teacher representing not demons but Y'wa, the true God—yes, the Karen actually esteemed them as prophets of the true God—kept reminding the Karen that the ways of Y'wa and the ways of nats (evil spirits) were not the same. One day, these Bukhos affirmed, the Karen people must return fully to the ways of Y'wa.

Karen prophets actually taught their people hymns passed down from generation to generation by verbal communication alone... Karen hymns to Y'wa reveal how astonishingly clear the concept of the one true God can be in folk religions! By means of these hymns, awe and reverence for Y'wa, the true God, were kept alive in the hearts of the Karen people so that they would not lapse into Buddhism with its idolatry. One such hymn extolled the eternity of Y'wa's being:

Y'wa is eternal, His life is long.

One aeon—He dies not!

Two aeons—He dies not!

He is perfect in meritorious attributes.

Aeons follow aeons—He dies not!

Another hymn extolled Y'wa as Creator:

Who created the world in the beginning?

Y'wa created the world in the beginning!

Y'wa appointed everything.

Y'wa is unsearchable!

Still another hymn conveys deep appreciation for Y'wa's omnipotence and omniscience, combined with acknowledgement of a lack of relationship with Him:

The omnipotent is Y'wa;

Him have we not believed.

Y'wa created men anciently;

He has a perfect knowledge of all things!

Y'wa created men at the beginning;

He knows all things to the present time! O, my children and grandchildren!

The earth is the treading place

of the feet of Y'wa.

And heaven is the place where

He sits. He sees all things, and

we are manifest to Him.

The Karen story of man's falling away from God contains stunning parallels to Genesis 1:

Y'wa formed the world originally.

He appointed food and drink.

He appointed the “fruit of trial.”

He gave detailed orders.

Mu-kaw-lee deceived two persons.

He caused them to eat the fruit

of the tree of trial.

They obeyed not; they

believed not Y'wa….

They became subject to

sickness, aging, and death….

An author named Alonzo Bunker, who lived among the Karen for 30 years during the late nineteenth century, describes a typical late-evening teaching session in the jungle led by the Karen Bukhos near Toungoo, Burma:

“It is quite impossible to describe the solemn and reverential manner in which these white-haired elders recited the attributes of Y'wa, and with what awed attention the children listened…they were drawn as a magnet to the council of elders. For a while there was silence, save the crackling of bamboo and brush in the fire. And then the old prophet of the village…arose and extended his hands, as if in benediction, and said:

“‘O children and grandchildren, formerly Y'wa loved the Karen nation above all others. But they transgressed His commands, and in consequence…we suffer as in present. Because Y'wa cursed us, we are in our present afflicted state and have no books.'

“Then a great hope seemed to light up his face as, looking toward the stars,…he exclaimed: ‘But Y'wa will again have mercy upon us, and He will love above all others. Y'wa will save us again. It is [because we listened] to the language of Mu-kaw-lee [Satan] that we suffer.'

“Then followed…[an] impassioned recitation in the lyrical verse of his ancestors….The old man …spoke with a native eloquence which can be left, but not described:

“‘When Y'wa made Tha-nai and Ee-u, he placed them in the garden…saying, “In the garden I have made for you seven different kinds of trees, bearing seven…kinds of fruit. Among the seven, one tree is not good to eat….If you eat, you will become old, you will sicken, you will die….Eat and drink with care. Once in seven days I will visit you…”

“‘“Our father put us here,” they replied.

“‘“What do you eat here?” asked Mu-kaw-lee.

“‘“Our Lord Y'wa has created food for us, food without limit.”

“‘“Show me your food,” said Mu-kaw-lee.

“‘… They pointed them out, saying, “This one is astringent, this sweet, this sour, this bitter, this savoury, this fiery, but [as for] this tree, we know not whether it is sour or sweet. Our Father, the Lord Y'wa, said to us, ‘Eat not the fruit of this tree. If you eat, you will die.”

“‘…Then Mu-kaw-lee replied, “It is not so, O my children. The heart of your Father Y'wa is not with you. This is the richest and sweetest….If you eat it, you will possess miraculous powers. You will be able to ascend to heaven…I love you, and I tell you the truth, and conceal nothing. If you do not believe me, do not eat the fruit. If you will each eat the fruit as a trial, then you will know all….”'”

In paragraphs that follow, the man, Tha-nai, refuses the enticement and walks away. The woman, Ee-u, lingers, succumbs to temptation, eats the fruit and then entices her husband, who also eats. Alonzo Bunker's translation continues: “‘…The woman returned to Mu-kaw-lee and said, “My husband has eaten the fruit.”

“‘[Mu-kaw-lee] laughed exceedingly, and said, “Now O conquered man and woman, you have listened to my voice and obeyed me.”

“‘The next morning Y'wa came to visit them, but they did not follow Him with the singing of praises as usual. He drew near to them and said, “Why have you eaten the fruit of the tree that I commanded you not to eat?… Therefore you shall grow old, and you shall become sick, and you shall die.”

“‘… When Y'wa had cursed man, He left him…. In course of time sickness began to appear. One of the children of Tha-nai and Ee-u fell ill. Then they said to one another, “Y'wa has cast us off. We cannot tell what to do. We must go and ask Mu-kaw-lee.”

“‘So…they went to him and said, “…we obeyed your words, and ate. Now our child is ill….What will you advise?”

“‘Mu-kaw-lee replied, “You did not obey your father, the Lord Y'wa. You listened to me. Now that you have obeyed me once, obey me to the end.'”

“Then the old prophet related, still continuing in the ancient verse of his people, how Mu-kaw-lee instructed them in the principle offerings to be made [for] various kinds of sickness. These offerings were to be made to his servants the nats [demons] who presided over certain diseases, as well as accidents.

“He also told how Mu-kaw-lee instructed them to divine by the bones of a fowl, which became to these hillmen the guide to almost every act of life.”

Alonzo Bunker also quotes a Karen “Song of Hope,” expressing their longing for the eventual return of Y'wa:

At the appointed season Y'wa will come.

…Dead trees will blossom and flower…

Moldering trees will blossom

and bloom again.

Y'wa will come and bring

the great Thau-thee.

[“Thau-thee” seems to be the name

of a sacred mountain.]

Let us ascend and worship.

A second song of hope speaks of a king who will return:

Good persons, the good,

Shall go to the silver city, the silver town.

Righteous persons, the righteous,

Shall go to the new town, the new city.

Persons who believe their

father and mother

Shall enjoy the golden palace.

When the Karen king arrives,

There will be only one monarch.

When the Karen king arrives,

There will be neither rich nor poor.

Karen prophets, in spite of the ever-present and pervasive influence of Buddhist idolatry in Burma, constantly fortified their people against idolatry through proverbs such as the following:

O, children and grandchildren!

Do not worship idols or priests!

If you worship them, you

obtain no advantage thereby,

While you increase your

sins exceedingly.

Honoring one's parents was

also a sacred obligation:

O, children and grandchildren!

Respect and reverence your

mother and father!

For when you were small, they

did not suffer so much

as a mosquito to bite you.

To sin against your parents

is a heinous crime.

Prophets of God among the Karen also emphasized man's duty to love God and one's neighbor:

O, children and grandchildren! Love

Y'wa, and never so much as

mention His name [lightly].

If you speak His name [lightly],

He goes farther and farther from us!

O, children and grandchildren! Do not be

fond of quarreling and disputing,

but love each other. Y'wa in

heaven looks down upon us.

And if we do not love each other, it is

the same as if we do not love Y'wa

Karen who violated the code were called to repentance with a promise of mercy from Y'wa:

O, children and grandchildren!

If we repent of our sins,

And cease to do evil—

restraining our passions—

And pray to Y'wa, He will

have mercy upon us again.

If Y'wa does not have mercy on us,

there is no other one who can.

He who saves us is the only one—Y'wa.

The importance of prayer was not over-looked:

O, children and grandchildren!

Pray to Y'wa constantly

by day and by night.

The Karen people thus present a striking anomaly to theologians. Jesus, as far as the Gospel record tells us, commended the religious awareness of a comparative handful of Gentiles: a Roman centurion, a Syrophoenician woman, the Queen of Sheba, Naaman the Syrian, the widow of Zarephath, the people of Nineveh, etc. Likewise, Peter was startled by the unexpected piety of a Gentile called Cornelius (see Acts 10:34). The Karen race, however, confronts us with hundreds of thousands of individuals whose awareness of basic spiritual facts may have matched that of history's average Jew or Christian!

The piety of the pagans mentioned in the Bible, moreover, seems traceable in each case directly to Jewish influence. In two cases, the ministry of Jesus Himself was instrumental. But the Karen live 4,000 miles from Jerusalem. Granted, their name for God—Y'wa—suggests influence from the Jewish Yahweh, but no equivalents for Abraham and Moses, the second and third most important figures in Judaism, have been reported by compilers of Karen tradition. Surely Jewish influence would have emphasized Abraham and Moses.

Likewise, if Karen traditions trace back to, for example, Nestorian Christian influence of the eighth century, or to later Roman Catholic missionary contacts of the sixteenth, seventeenth or eighteenth centuries, one would expect some mention of an incarnation or a Redeemer dying for man's sin and rising from the dead. Again, I have found no such concepts reported by students of Karen tradition.

And if we theorize that Jewish and/or Christian influence touched the Karen, but so fleetingly that only the basic concepts of God, creation and the fall of man registered with them, then we face a difficult question. How could so fleeting an influence leave such a deep and lasting impression on an entire people, especially when Buddhism and their own tribal spiritism so strongly opposed that influence over long periods of time?

History teaches that only very strong or very protracted influences can instill new religious concepts across cultural barriers, especially when other influences—Buddhism and spiritism in this case—are so contrary to those concepts.

Could it be that Karen beliefs about Y'wa predate both Judaism and Christianity? Did such beliefs spring from that ancient root of monotheism which characterized the age of the early patriarchs? The answer is almost certainly—yes!

By far the most amazing aspect of Karen monotheism was its frank acknowledgement of its own incompleteness. And in view of the natural worldwide tendency of most peoples to dislike and even distrust foreigners—especially if their color is different—the Karen anticipation that completeness would come to them via “white foreigners” is almost equally amazing. One of their hymns stated:

The sons of Y'wa, the white foreigners,

obtained the words of Y'wa.

The white foreigners, the children of Y'wa, obtained the words of Y'wa anciently.

During the 1830s, a Karen named Sau-qu-la gave an address before the English governor-general of Burma. He said that Europeans, the “white foreigner,” were originally younger brothers of the Karen people! The Karen, as older brothers (rascals that they were), negligently lost their copy of Y'wa's book. The white brothers, on the other hand, carefully preserved their copy. As a result white people became “righteous” and are known as “guides to God.” They also learned to sail in ships with “white wings,” crossing oceans.

Alonzo Bunker summarizes the tradition as follows: “The Deliverer [of the Karen]…was to be a ‘white foreigner,' and was to come across the sea from the west with ‘white wings' [sails] and bring Y'wa's ‘white book.' Some versions of the tradition said the book would be of gold and silver.

The Karen nation was thus poised like an 800,000-member welcoming party, ready for the first unsuspecting missionary who approached them with a Bible and a message of deliverance from God.