THE FAITH HEALER'S HOME.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16619, 29 December 1921, Page 5

THE FAITH HEALER'S HOME.

SATAN A IN ISOLATION. j I MYSTERY AND SECLUSION. ('* Evening Post.’*) For more than a year the work of i Tabu Wireiim Katana, the Maori healer, among his Maori people, and less directly, through the influence of faith, among the pakeha, has achieved a fame far bevond the shores of his na- ' tive land. As the story of wonderful cures effected by Divine agency through him as the instrument of Divine will was noised abroad by the Press and through other channels, the wave of appeals to him for help came from all over the world. Hardlv a single country could be named that is not the origin of some correspondence with Ratana. The cost of postage alone has run into hundreds of pounds. During the last twelve months the Maori healer—the il miracle-man.” as he is known among the white people—has made a progress throughout the Dominion, wherever the Maori people ! dwell, and everywhere lie has carried on his work among the sick, the afflicted, the crippled. th£ halt, the lame, and the blind with astonishing results. At his home at Ratana was displayed on Christmas Day to the great Maori gathering there a perfect forest of crutches, sticks, splints, and mechanical appliances for the cripp! 'd, together with bath-chairs. steel jackets, and casings, spectacles—all the aids by which those afflicted in body had hi tin erto managed to exist. These have been left with Ratana ns no longer needed by those made whole, and in a huge “ book of cures ” are the names and signatures of those made well, running into five figures. j MYSTERIOUS PERSONALITY. Throughout all this period of healing work among the Maoris, though much about Ratana lias appeared in the newspapers, Accounts of cures effected, records of his movements, comments by the dignitaries of the Church, some little criticism now and again, the secret of his personality and oven his appearance has been jealously arid safely kept. The best account of his methods is still that which appeared in the “ Post ” nearly a year ago in an ini with Mr Harry S to well, of ! Wellington, the Maori interpreter, who | was present at a similar gathering at j Ratana last Christmas twelve months. Ratana has always been averse to publicity. fearing that it might corrupt and spoil his work, and only a few weeks ago announced, in a letter to the Wanganui papers, that for the time being be would undertake to do no more for the pakeha. So far the accounts of : him have been purely second-hand, and | the vigilance of Auckland Pressmen was ; successful!v eluded on his passage ■ through the northern city fo visit the ! Maoris in the far north. He was then ' described ns having been seen coming j out of a fried fish shop, and as being I of “ ascetic ” appearance. Nothing j could be further from the truth as to i his appearance. As a matter of fact. I one has to go hack almost to the dnvs of To Rauparaha. when the tribes were almost perpetually at war. t-o find an u ascetic ” looking Maori. THE HOME OF THE HEALER. Ratana, the ancestral home or the Maori healer, where over 4000 Natives from every part of the Dominion are gathered together this Christmas week, is a curiously-isolated place for its position on the map. It is on the main line of railway from Wellington to New Plymouth, true, and has a little semiprivate flag station of its own, established, it ia understood, at the request of T. W. Ratana’s father, who farmed, as does the son, a large area of splendid land. In normal times the trains seldom stop at this little station, but at Christmas there is constant traffic, for Ratana has become the Mecca of the Maori, the place of an annual pilgrimage. While, however, the Ratana homestead is within a couple of hundred yards from the railway, and the whole camp in plain view from the trains, the place is a couple of miles from the main north road by a narrow winding track on which in many parts two vehicles could not pass. It is this comparative isolation which so far lias enabled Ratana to carry on his work in peace away from the intrusion of inquisitive sightseers, the profane tourist, and the publicity agent. A PLACE FOR PRAYER. There is all the loneliness that meditation and prayer desire at Ratana. The homestead—a large, plain, verandahed, single-storey building ■ minted red—stands four-square to all the winds that blow over the downs sloping to the sea from the tableland of the watershed between the Wangaehu and T*arakina Valleys. There is not a tree nearby, and the view extends over the coastal plain from Egmont in clear weather to where the Tararuas settle down in the hills about V ellington. Yet, in the near prospect, there are only two other dwellings—the homestead of the Sutherlands, just across the railway, and the house of Ratana’s son, close hy. Such places are the natural home of poets and prophets, where the mind may dwell on wide horizons and dream. NOT FOR THE PAKEHA. It is hard for a pakeha to get near Ratana—almost as hard as for the camel to go through the eye qf a needle. This Christmas gathering is tapu to the white man. Only a few personal friends of the prophet arc tolerated—men connected by blood or long friendship with the Maori race, speaking the language,, perhaps—-mod-ern pakeha Maoris. \ isitors drive Up from all parts in cars along tli< narrow’, winding road to the gates, and get no further, or, if they do, are courteously, but firmly, requested by Maoris in the uniform of policemen to withdraw. It was with great difficulty that tlio writer—and only through the help of a Maori relative —managed to gain admission for a while, and see Ratana. SCENES IN CAMP. The encampment is gathering with time the elements of permanence. There is a little wooden church on the further side of the homestead, and round a large square of grass like a village i green are springing up wooden whares of simple design, each built by a separj ate tribe for its own use at the meetj ings. There are half a dozen large j marquffes pitched in order about the green, and towering in the centre a j huge circus tent, brought down by one of the northern tribes. Then there arc I scores of smaller tents of the bush type, i pitched in similar fashion to form j streets. At various points there are j kitchens with steam cookers worked j from vertical boilers, fiom which from j time to time come blasts of the whistle J out of harmony with the character of I the place. Conveniences are built suitable to the number of the people, and there is a large uool or dam for washing purposes. Drinking water and water for cooking has to be brought all -ho wav from Turakina. in tanks by motor lorrv. Dried eels and fish hang m scores on wire fences, and there are

I dozens of carcases, sides and joints of meat in a great safe, i All about the camp are Maoris of j both sexes and all ages, from the very j old to the babe in arms. Children are playing about as all children do, the ! Maori ycfiith fresh from the college, spruce and neat, is flirting with the pretty Maori girl just out of high school, the elders aio gossiping over pipes, and all about is the casual, unrestrained leisurely life of the Maori democracy. The uniformed policemen, some with the old style caps • of ten years ago, would appear to have little to do in so placid and orderly a gathering, except t-o keep the unwel- i come pakeha away. In that branch of duty they appear to have been singularly successful during the hui. The pakeha is quickly spotted, asked his business, and, if the reply u not satisfactory. shown a civil exit. MAORI IN CONFERENCE. In front of t-iio Ratana homestead is a large crowd-—hundreds seated on the ground and a 9 many more standing, round in a ling. It is a korero—a conference of the Maori in which the af , fairs of the race are discussed and important questions settled. Speakers get up and energetically harangue their audience in the Maori manner, pacing to and fro and illustrating their ro marks with lively gestures. The audience replies at suitable intervals. Then the call is for Ratana. The great man rises amid more applause. RATANA HIMSELF. Ratana has been described as “ ascetic-looking ” and as a “ typio.-i Maori ” —two descriptions as antitheti : cal as the poles. He is neither one nor the other, neither lean with lontr. fasts and much meditation nor gross and j heavy as the Maori is apt to beconje in , middle-age. He is only typical Maori in that he is a typ@ of all that is best > ! in the Maori race. lie is a handsome . man—one would say in his early , ’forties —lie is said to be in his forty- } sixth year, but lie looks younger. He . is weli set up of rather more than i medium height, rather athletic than . ascetic, of the figure of a man of middle-age, who lias lived a clean and ■ active life and staved off the encroach- , - ments of the flesh. His hair is thick ; i and black—if tinged with grey, very j - slightly—a black moustache. well- j » trimmed almost of military style, a fair I ' complexion for a Maori—a clear brown j 5 skin, a picture of health with a glow -in the cheek. He was, on the occasion the writer saw him, simply but neatly 7 dressed in blue serge. Ho reminds one 5 most of a retired army officer or an 3 English squire. lie is, indeed, a highly successful farmer, as the well--1 kept broad acres about the homestead, 3 i many in standing crops, showed. There k i was nothing slovenly to be seen anywhere about the place. 1 THE MAN AND HTS TEACHING 3 This then is the man whose name is almost a household word in New* Zea- ~ land, and is known all over the world He is still in the very prime of life, , and the question that faces him now c and the Maori people is whether no shall extend his healing work still e further among the pakeha people, or n whether he shall keep to his own folk (T With the line instinct, which has Kept ~ his attitude throughout his public ~ career so perfectly correct from every Q point of view, he has left the. question to the Maori people themselves to do R eide. That was the very question they e were discussing when the writer was n privileged to witness the gathering. Ratana, with his fine eyes full of fire til* most distinctive feature in him, was putting his point of view. His own e heart is* obviously with his peoplo. No K man can serve two masters, he think*. o and the influence from God through u him might be dissipated too wide, if ’ the field of action is extended further * There he stood a typical Maori iny deed, but with all the grossness that time often lavishes on the Maori, purged away, as it were, by the spiritual experiences through which he has gone. His own view of life as inj terpreted to the writer by one of his followers is singularly broadqjtnded. fc neither practises nor preaches asr cetism—simply salvation bv faith, to a which he himself admits he owes so much. He is against all excessive m- ~ diligence. Better not to drink at all than to drink too much ; better not ru I wnoifo if smoking does you harm ; bet--1 ter not So to the races, if it means gambling away your sustenance. 4110 t Maori people have come absolutely to * believe in him and love him. He is 3 their born, leader, and his work among s them, voir! of all self-interest, may mean a new future for the race, _ cleansed bodily and mentally and spiritually of their ailments. In such circumstances the pakeha may well spare hint to his. own people. I REMARKABLE CUBES REPORTED. > (Pep. Press Association.) 1 WANGANUI, December 28. 3 A Maori Anglican clergyman reports 1 some sensational cures by Ratana last i evening at a religious gathering where * an invitation was extended to any sick r natives to come forward. A blind wor man was led up to the prophet by re- - latives. She was told that if she im- • plicitly believed in the Divine Powei y to heal she would be healed. Having f professed such belief it is reported that - her sight was restored and she walked , away unaided. Another was a man 1 aged thirty, who went on crutches t' & Ratana and walked away, also a man 1 who was unable to walk without aid Captain Mezger, master of the barquentine Ysabei, told an Auckland [ * “ Star ” reporter that when he left 3 Niue Island on December 9 for Auck 1 land there were t<*n or twelve white 3 persons on the island who were desir ’ oust of leaving for Auckland, but tlieii departure was prevented because the: / r was no vessel on which they could eii--5 gage a passage. ’ For some time these people had been awaiting an oppor 3 tunity of leaving their island home re ! “ spend a holiday in the outside world 1 yet no steamer called, and there they " remained eagerly waiting a chance to 3 visit those they knew in other parts ~ —and are perhaps still waiting, with 1 scarcely anything to abate their desire 3 except the appearance of a mast or a 1 column of smoke on the horizon, only to pass soon after out of sight once j more. 1 i - ~ “ -