Serving a Worthy Cause
As told by Charles Tareha
WE MAORIS were the inhabitants of New Zealand when the first Europeans stepped ashore in 1769. My great-grandfather, Chief Tareha te Moananui, was one of the signers of the famous Treaty of Waitangi in 1840. It provided for Maoris to become subjects of the British Queen Victoria, and for Britain to protect all Maori rights, including property rights.
After the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi—when there were only about 2,000 whites in New Zealand—Europeans came in ever-increasing numbers. For a time there was peace. But then tensions mounted as whites wanted to buy land, but Maoris didn’t want to sell. Wars—called the Maori Wars—resulted with off and on fighting continuing from 1860 to 1872.
The Maoris were defeated and taken advantage of, as Dr. Grenfell Price, of the University of Adelaide, noted: “Maori leaders were dead or discredited. Maori lands were confiscated. The speculator and the publican found the native an easy prey.” My people had dwindled from 200,000 or more to only about 40,000. Maoris felt deprived of their rights, and it seemed their very existence as a race was threatened.
WOULD I GET INVOLVED?
Near the turn of the century, my father had gone to Te Aute College and a number of his Maori friends, including Sir Apirana Turupa Ngata and Te Rangi Hiroa (Dr. Peter Buck), pursued careers in government designed to help the Maori people. However, my father became a farmer. He had a fine, large home ideally located on the terrace of a four-acre section. Nearby we had hundreds of acres of excellent farming land, and, as I was growing up, we milked as many as 70 cows in peak season. Dad was an expert mechanic, plumber and electrician. We had our own large electrical power plant, which provided our farm with electricity decades before it was common in our rural area near Napier. We even had European hired hands.
So I must say, while growing up I never felt that we were inferior to whites. And the facts didn’t indicate that we were. True, at the arrival of Europeans in 1769, the Maoris had no written language. Yet not long afterward one was developed, and by 1827 the Bible was translated into Maori. As our people became avid readers, some 60,000 “New Testaments” alone were produced from 1841 to 1845. About that time a larger proportion of Maoris than of whites could read and write.
Yet, largely due to the Maori-White wars, the Maoris came to suffer severe problems. There was pressure on many of us to get involved in righting the wrongs that so many were saying had been committed against the Maoris. I remember a Mr. McDonnell, a European, who often visited dad and would discuss these matters, encouraging our doing more to help our people.
But somehow I was not motivated to become involved in such efforts. Perhaps it was because I was so disappointed in human rulers. From what I had learned in school, many of the kings and queens of England were very immoral and evil. And the history of the Maoris was little better.
LEARNING THE MAORI PAST
Although no written Maori records exist prior to the early 1800’s, Maoris would commit to memory details of hundreds of years of history. Often my grandfather and aunts would relate information about our ancestors, as well as their many relatives, all the way back 20 generations or so to when our forefathers arrived in New Zealand in a fleet of canoes. In fact, conversations and happenings on the canoes were at times told as though they had occurred the previous week. Was this oral history reliable?
No doubt accounts were embellished with retelling, but many of the details have been corroborated. “The Maoris’ own accounts,” concludes one historian, “of the Fleet of A.D. 1350 are so convincingly corroborated by external evidence that they possess the dignity of authenticated history.”
Often the oral historical accounts that granddad related to us had to do with tribal wars, and “who ate whom.” Yes, Maoris once were cannibals. But for what purpose? To satisfy their appetite? This was never how it was related to us, and researchers agree. T. E. Donne, in his book The Maori Past and Present, wrote: “The available information appears to indicate that the Maori cannibalism was initiated more as a ritual than in satisfaction of appetite.”
You see, it was the Maoris’ tradition not to let an insult pass without retaliation. Moreover, Maoris never forgave defeats, and they cherished visions of revenge. Thus, when retaliating successfully for some insult, or when achieving revenge, the victorious warrior chief ate the heart of the defeated one. This was the greatest insult one could impose upon another tribe.
In turn, however, the relatives of the defeated one needed to get revenge to restore family or tribal “honor.” At intertribal gatherings, as a youngster I remember how orators would get up and, recalling ancient history, would discuss what tribal chief had “eaten” another, and when. They remembered the details of these victories and defeats all the way back to the time when the canoes arrived.
REARED WITH RESPECT FOR GOD
Frankly, as I said before, this history didn’t appeal to me; it didn’t seem very honorable. My feelings, I believe, were due to another influence in my life. At night, before bedtime, my grandmother used to read to us children from the Maori Bible, which she loved. The instructions therein—‘to do unto others as you would have them do to you,’ ‘turn the other cheek,’ ‘return evil for evil to no one’—are so contrary to the way humankind has lived. As I grew older, I began to appreciate the wisdom of the Scriptures.—Matt. 7:12; 5:39; Rom. 12:17.
My great-grandfather, Tareha te Moananui, was also favorably impressed by what he read in the Maori Bible. Since he obtained his copy of the Bible from an Anglican clergyman, my great-grandfather became an Anglican. He donated a large section of land adjoining our homestead as a marae, or, meeting place, and had a church built on it only about 100 feet (30 m) from our home. My father, too, appreciated the wisdom in the Bible and became an Anglican lay preacher.
Dad really did his best to rear the 10 of us youngsters in harmony with what he had learned from the Scriptures. I was the fourth, and the eldest son, yet our home was large enough to accommodate all of us comfortably. At mealtimes we would all gather around the gigantic dining table made from finest kauri hardwood timber, and there was even room for visitors, which we frequently had.
Dad was a firm believer in the Bible proverb that says: “The one holding back his rod is hating his son, but the one loving him is he that does look for him with discipline.” (Prov. 13:24) Since the literal rod was not always available, he would often use his open palm or boot, as the occasion demanded, planting it in just the right place to get his point across. I’m convinced that if parents today would accept and apply such Bible counsel this would greatly reduce, if not eliminate, juvenile delinquency.
Mother, too, played a vital part in creating a happy home, which contributed to our fine upbringing. When I read the qualities of a capable wife listed in Proverbs 31:10-31, I must say that she indeed possessed them. Although dad clearly was head of the house, mum had a sphere of responsibility in which she exercised real initiative and demonstrated good management.
Along with my brothers and sisters, I shared in the work around the farm. At the same time, I attended a technical school and, accompanied with the experience I received working with dad, I became proficient as a mechanic and an electrician. But what would I do with my life? My father’s mechanical ability had a lot to do with my decision.
A NEW PATTERN OF BIBLE STUDY
My mother’s sisters had an accident in their almost new Buick at Wairoa, a town about 70 miles (113 km) north of us. So dad went to Wairoa for a few days to repair my aunts’ car. He found their life pattern similar to ours, except in regard to their religion.
Each morning they read a scripture from the Bible, followed by a free discussion, a putting of meaning into it. One morning the scripture for discussion was Ecclesiastes 9:5, 10, which reads: “For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing . . . Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.”—Authorized Version.
At a recent funeral service father recalled that a Maori tohunga (priest) said that the soul of the deceased was not dead, but had departed to be with his ancestors. This, of course, was very similar to the Anglican belief, namely, that some souls go to heaven and the less favored go to hell.
Another illuminating breakfast table discussion centered on the fact that Jesus is a lesser one than his Father, and that his Father has a personal name. (John 14:28; Ps. 83:18) This was simple for dad to grasp, because the name for God, Ihowa (English, Jehovah), appears in the Maori Bible more than 6,000 times.
A CHANGE OF RELIGION
By the time dad returned home he possessed a library of seven books published by the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society entitled “Studies in the Scriptures.” Immediately he began a regular weekly family Bible study, which close relatives and friends joined. When the clergyman became aware of these studies, he expressed strong disapproval. Yet, when he was asked to give Scriptural support for the Church doctrines of immortality of the soul and the Trinity, the only reply he gave was, “Be loyal to the Church.”
This convinced dad that what he was learning from the Bible was the truth. So, recalling the words at 2 Corinthians 6:14-17, “Do not become unevenly yoked with unbelievers,” and “get out from among them,” dad sent in a written resignation from the Anglican Church for the entire family. I was 19 at the time, and was in total agreement with dad’s action. He concluded his letter with the words: “As for me and my household, we shall serve Jehovah.”—Josh. 24:15.
This caused a commotion in the Anglican hierarchy, due to dad’s prominence in Maori society. They immediately requested a special meeting for the purpose of getting him to withdraw his resignation. Dad agreed to the meeting—not in the church—but on our property where a huge platform was erected for the occasion. A number of clergymen, including F. Bennett, the Anglican bishop of New Zealand, along with a large crowd of about 400 others, were on hand.
THE MEETING
The Maori spokesman for the Church seemed purposely to avoid using the Bible. Rather, he appealed to the emotions. “Our ancestors believed that the soul continued on after death,” he reminded, “and yet you have chosen to adopt a religion that denies the existence of the soul.” Then dad proceeded to show from the Bible that the person himself is a soul, and, therefore, when the person dies, the soul dies. Dad also explained that God can resurrect the person as a living soul once more.
When it became apparent that the Anglican clergyman was not presenting a convincing case, then, making an impatient gesture toward the nearby church my great-grandfather had built, in an emotion-packed voice he exclaimed: “I make one last appeal to you not to abandon this sacred heritage handed down to you by your illustrious ancestors.”
After that dad stood up, thanked all for coming, and explained that he was more convinced than ever that he now had the truth. He informed everyone of the day and time of our regular Bible study, inviting them all to attend. Many did.
CHOOSING MY LIFE COURSE
That meeting made a deep impression on me. As we continued our Bible studies, a desire grew in my heart to serve the true God, Jehovah. I began to see that his Kingdom is the only government that can solve man’s problems, including the ones of the Maoris. But it was not clear just how to carry on the Kingdom preaching as described in the Bible.—Matt. 24:14.
About that time, Clifford and Edna Keoghan, pioneers, full-time workers of Jehovah’s Witnesses, came to our area, and we provided a small house for their use. They invited us to join them in the preaching work, and I was one of those who did. The more I shared in this activity, the more I realized how ignorant people were of God’s kingdom. My mind was made up: My career was to be pioneering, following in the footsteps of Christ Jesus himself and the apostle Paul. With dad’s approval, I began pioneering early in 1931. I moved to Wanganui, a town on the west coast of the north island to join my pioneer partner, Frank Dewar.
PIONEER EXPERIENCES
With Wanganui as our base, we also worked in the rural areas. Once I selected a route that was a newly formed road along the Wanganui River that led to a cluster of villages with Biblical names, such as Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and so forth. By starting at daybreak, I figured I could make it to Jerusalem by some time in the late afternoon.
It was late fall and the rains had already begun. The clay road became so sloshy that it was almost impossible to push my loaded cycle through the mud. Darkness fell. I lost all sense of time and distance. I was covered with mud from head to foot. But I pressed on, and, shortly, in the distance I saw a faint light. I made a beeline for it, and soon the barking of dogs was music to my ears.
A door opened and a man appeared with a bright lamp. When he drew close enough to see me, with sheer amazement he asked: “Where on earth have you come from?” When I said, “Wanganui,” his only answer was a guttural, “No!”
Telling me to leave my muddy clothes outside, he directed me to the bathroom. After a bath and getting into clean pajamas, and while enjoying the pancakes and hot tea provided, I was finally asked: “Now tell me, why have you come?” Late into the night we talked, discussing the relative position of Jehovah, Jesus and the importance of the Kingdom. He was a bachelor, a shepherd, and a great believer in the Bible. He happily accepted the Bible literature I had.
The next morning when I awoke he was already gone, as he said he would be. I continued on to Jerusalem, placing much literature there and in nearby villages. Many years later I attended an assembly in Napier and a woman approached with a broad smile, asking: “Do you remember me?” I had to confess I didn’t. She continued: “You placed a set of books with me 15 years ago when I was in Jerusalem.” She was now a Witness also.
TO AUSTRALIA AND HOME AGAIN
In March 1932, I went to Sydney, Australia, for an assembly, and ended up staying about 15 years. Following the assembly, I was invited to join the Bethel family to proofread Maori translations of the book The Harp of God, as well as other literature, and assist with the maintenance of the Bethel cars.
In the meantime, my parents were growing old, and so, after the second world war, they requested that I return home and help in managing the estate. Although I was no longer in full-time service, I maintained the pioneer spirit, helping to build up the congregations, first in Hastings, then in Napier.
Around this time the Maori family Wharerau in Waima, north of Auckland, began accepting the truth. Eventually about 100 members became Jehovah’s Witnesses! In 1950 the first Kingdom Hall in New Zealand was built by the Maori brothers in Waima.
In December 1953, Queen Elizabeth and the duke of Edinburgh began a month-long visit to New Zealand. The Wellington, New Zealand, Dominion reported: “Mr. and Mrs. Tuiri Tareha [dad and mum] were two among the 74 people presented to the Royal visitors. Instead of shaking the Queen’s hand Mrs. Tareha passed to Her Majesty a small, neatly-wrapped brownpaper parcel.” The package contained the New World Translation of the Christian Greek Scriptures, and the book “New Heavens and a New Earth.” Dad explained: “The Queen once said that she wished that she had the wisdom of Solomon so that she could rule her people with equity and justice. We were confident that these books would help her.”
TO NEW YORK AND MISSIONARY WORK
I began to pioneer again in 1956, and shortly thereafter was invited to the circuit work. Then, in 1958, I had the privilege of attending the “Divine Will” assembly of Jehovah’s Witnesses in New York. Afterward, I was invited to remain and attend the 33rd class of Gilead missionary school. My parents were still living, but they were pleased to have me devote my life in this way to Jehovah’s service.
My missionary assignment? Ceylon, now called Sri Lanka, in the Indian Ocean. I spent about 18 years on this beautiful tropical island, far from my homeland, where my beloved parents died in my absence. How different witnessing was here—and challenging!
The first person you meet in a day may be a Buddhist, who would probably tell you that there is no God and that salvation is wholly dependent upon himself. The next person may be a Moslem, who believes in only one God, Allah; the third, a Roman Catholic who has been taught to believe in a triune God; and the fourth, a Hindu who believes in millions of gods. However, the fact that the people are so hospitable affords them the opportunity to hear and recognize the ring of Bible truth.
The Pullenayegem family was a good example. I started a Bible study with William and his wife Olive, along with their three sons and two daughters. All, with the exception of one son, became zealous Witnesses. One son, Vasant, is now a member of the branch committee in Sri Lanka, Mohandas is an elder and the two daughters, Viranjani and Vynodini, are married to elders. William has since died, but Olive maintains the pioneer spirit, auxiliary pioneering as she is able.
In April 1977, being unable to renew my visa, I returned to New Zealand. Here I have the privilege of being a member of the Bethel family and a branch committee member for the country.
A SATISFYING CAUSE TO SERVE
I will be 70 in December. As I look back to when I was a teen-ager and was forced to decide how I would use my life, I am happy about the choice I made, for I have been able to serve not only the interests of Maori people, but also those of people in far-flung places. I am convinced more than ever that the answer to the desperate needs of people, wherever they may live, is not the schemes of men but only the solution offered by God’s kingdom.
It brings joy to my heart to see so many of my own people recognize this. For in New Zealand, out of the some 6,500 Witnesses in the country, about 1,000 are Maoris. Scores of these are Christian elders, many are pioneers, three have served as circuit overseers, and five have gone to Gilead and off to serve their fellow humans in other places. Oh, how grand it will be when, through the administration of God’s kingdom, all humankind is united as one!
[Picture of Charles Tareha on page 8]
[Picture on page 8]
Chief Tareha te Moananui