Riches of Grace Part 8

Thoughtfully she took it and began reading. She loved to write letters, and this, she felt, was her special part of the work. But here she perceived she had a task that was very difficult; for the writer, evidently a scholar, had put forth a dozen numbered questions that must be carefully answered or this dear soul would be hindered from walking in the truth. G.o.d would give the needed wisdom, she knew, and she folded the letter back into its envelope and sat meditating on the different points he had raised. After a while, she asked:

"How was the meeting last night?"

"Very good! Brother Owen spoke, and he did very well indeed. He used the text: 'Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.' Several came forward for help afterwards. Ah, by the way, do you remember Sister Tilton? She was out to meeting last night."

"Sister Tilton? She must be a new sister!"

"Ah, well, perhaps we did not tell you about her. This young girl came to meeting once some time ago, but afterwards became very ill. Her folks wanted the doctor for her, but she refused, not telling them why. But as her sickness increased, they became alarmed and insisted on calling the doctor. But the girl still refused the medicine. The doctor said she would probably not live. Her people begged to know the reason for her refusal to take the medicine, and she then said that she had been to the church of G.o.d meeting and had been made very happy, and that she believed if they would send for the elders of that church she should be healed. So word came, and Brother Owen went and anointed her in accordance with Jas. 5:14, 15. She has been getting better right along, and tonight she was at the meeting. She is saved now and seems to have a clear experience."

"Thank G.o.d!" was the hearty response. "How I should have loved to be at the meeting last night!--but for the present here is my meeting, and here is my work," and, catching up the baby and waving the letter happily, she ran into the house at the sound of children's voices within.

After the baby had been bathed and put to sleep, and the other children were sitting quietly at play on the side veranda, Sister Patience settled herself with her Bible at her husband's desk to answer this important letter. Bowing her head she besought G.o.d for this soul and for wisdom to answer his difficult questions aright. Then taking up her pen, she began the letter. She was so glad to write; she loved writing; and the joy of it always seemed to get into the very letters and s.h.i.+ne back from the pages. She addressed Mr. Jones cordially and kindly, and then took up the substance of the letter itself. In calling his attention to certain truths she referred to the Bible time after time, and again and again she prayed, for the letter seemed particularly important to her.

Long she meditated over some of the knotty questions, endeavoring to find the wisest explanation. Sometimes she was interrupted by the children just when she most needed to be quiet; but she had learned that interruptions often come as blessings in disguise, for often G.o.d had given thoughts that were clearer and better when she had patiently gone to attend to the children, and when she was free to return to her work she had found an answer preparing itself in her mind without an effort on her part. Thus, after several hours of close application, she finished the letter and sent it off with a trusting spirit.

Sister Patience hoped to receive an answer to her letter immediately, but week after week pa.s.sed, and there was no response. Dread began to creep upon her that this soul would not accept the truth. She took him earnestly to G.o.d many times and trusted that G.o.d would in some way overrule. However, as four months pa.s.sed and she had not heard again, she gave him over as being no longer interested.

Then it was that one morning there came, to her surprize, a letter in the same fine handwriting. How cordially he wrote! He thanked her for answering the former letter so fully and said he had been searching and proving her answers by the Word during the long interval. And now there were still a few points remaining that he disagreed with her upon; again she found a few numbered questions to answer.

These, like the first, were very shrewd, puzzling questions, and only sagacious answers would satisfy the inquirer. Again Sister Patience labored over the letter with prayer and meditation. Then, leaning hard upon G.o.d, she wrote another encouraging letter setting forth expositions of Scripture as clearly as possible. This time she invited her correspondent to a series of meetings they were expecting to hold during the coming winter season, when they hoped to have with them one or two ministers from America for a short period.

Again she waited long for an answer; but this time she did not give him up. Several months pa.s.sed, and then one of the brethren, a colporteur, came. He had been away for several months, and Sister Patience was very glad to see him.

"And tell me now, Brother Delworth," she said, after the first greetings were over, "where have you been all this time?"

"Mostly in Arendon and Lawney. I went from Panville to Mayfield, and from there to Paldings."

"Paldings! You were at Paldings? Do you know one K. L. Jones?" asked Sister Patience with great interest.

"Ah yes, a fine old gentleman, a school-teacher. He is saved. I sold him some books. He seems very much interested. And, by the way, he asked me to say to you when I should see you that he hoped to come over to the meeting next month, when the brethren are here from America. You will hear from him soon."

The time was drawing near for the coming of the brethren from America.

Arrangements had been made for a meeting during their stay, which would be only for a few days. And then one day a letter came from Brother Jones inquiring as to the date of the meeting, and saying that if possible he should like to attend it. So again Sister Patience wrote him, urging him to be at the meeting, if possible.

Thus it was that during the exciting days of the meeting, when many from different parts of the country had gathered in to meet the brethren from America in this meeting, Sister Patience first met Brother Jones.

It happened in this way: One morning before meeting-time, she was pa.s.sing through the little sitting-room in her home, when she noticed a fine-looking native man of venerable appearance sitting at one side of the room. People were all about him, but he was looking over some tracts that had been handed him. Making her way to him, she said:

"Good morning, Brother, I have not met you before, have I?"

"Ah, no," he said, and, quickly rising, he gave her a courteous bow.

"Can this be Sister Patience? My name is K. L. Jones, of Paldings."

"How glad I am to meet you!" she replied. And then followed an animated conversation in which she was able to recognize and admire the fine qualities of his matured mind. Finally he expressed the desire to speak with the foreign brethren himself, and so an audience was arranged for him after the next service. Then it was, Sister Patience learned afterwards, that Brother Jones inquired deeply into the subjects of sanctification and baptism. Later in the day it was announced that there would be a baptismal service early the next morning to accommodate Brother Jones, who was to return home by an early train.

Some years have pa.s.sed since then. G.o.d has wonderfully used the dear old brother, and a congregation has been raised up about him, who look up to him as their pastor. These are backward mountain people where he has labored, yet such has been his patience and faithfulness and love that they have become established in holiness and truth. Brother Jones, as we call him, is becoming feeble now, but he is still standing faithful as the shepherd of this little flock, faithful unto death.

Does it pay to use patience and prayer when dealing with precious souls?

Ah yes; eternity alone can tell all that it means.

The Rescue of an Australian Lad

EXPERIENCE NUMBER 11

It was in the town of Goulbourne, New South Wales, Australia, that I began my career in life. Until I reached the age of four years, a prosperous father provided the comforts of a good home, but a great change took place upon my suddenly being left fatherless. A few months later found me in a little town on the St. Lawrence River, in the Providence of Ontario, Canada. I had accompanied my mother to this place, but she soon placed me with a strange family and went to a distant city.

As I was now separated from every family tie, life began in real earnest. It was also the beginning of a record of many interesting and often sad experiences extending over a number of years. In my wanderings in different parts of Canada and in many localities of the United States, the incidents varied all the way from being rescued from drowning to landing in jail as a vagrant. s.p.a.ce forbids a detailed account of my experience, which to me affords material for interesting and often regretful recollection. It may, however, all be summed up and described as a.n.a.logous with the casting of an innocent infant into the mighty Niagara River to be swept along at the mercy of the on-rus.h.i.+ng and maddening current, which knows no relenting, but bears its victim to an untimely end over the brink of the mighty falls. There destruction on the ragged rocks below awaits it unless an unseen hand should miraculously dip into the water and save that form for life and service.

Thank G.o.d, in his tender mercy he stretched forth his hand to rescue my poor, lost, helpless soul from the turbulent rapids of sin when I was seventeen years of age. He set me on the solid rock of his truth and gave me the Holy Spirit as an eternal guide and propelling power. He has proved to be a comforter in whom I can safely put my trust when stemming the rising tide of unbelief and doubt.

It is with thanksgiving that I can at the present time recount the divine care of which I have been the object, so far in my pilgrimage through life. I rejoice to be a partaker of the Father's love, which is pure, warm, and changeless. There is an abiding a.s.surance of safety so long as I walk in the path of obedience to his will and trust implicitly in his mighty power to keep my feet while I take steps toward the threshold of heaven. I am grateful, also, for a soul-conviction that the most worthy, most desirable and glorious life is the one that finds its outlet in the glad service of love to G.o.d and discovers complete happiness in serving others. A soul without Christ is like an idle straw driven at the mercy of the wind, but the soul redeemed through the blood of Jesus will experience a sweet essence that turns the unfruitful life into a garden of unspeakable delights.

Heathen Customs in China

EXPERIENCE NUMBER 12

To those who have been reared in Christian nations, it is difficult to conceive of the vague ideas of the true wors.h.i.+p of the Creator, that are really bred and born into the wors.h.i.+pers of idols. Generation upon generation, for thousands of years, have been taught the same form of wors.h.i.+p, or nearly so, until such heathen ideas and doctrines have become just as much a part of their nature as is any other sinful disposition.

Having been a personal observer of a few of their customs, I shall here be mentioning what I have seen, with a prayer that my account may at least help the reader more fully to appreciate the access that every wors.h.i.+per of the true G.o.d has to the bountiful storehouse of blessings provided by our Creator.

For nearly five years I lived a short distance outside a large city in China. Almost as far as we could see in any direction, the hills and valleys were dotted with little mounds. (Some of the valleys, however, were under cultivation.) How came all these little mounds, some round, some long, some large and some small, some carefully covered over with fresh green sod, and others greatly weather-beaten and nearly washed away by the rains of the season? These mysterious little mounds mark the last resting-places of thousands of Chinese. Should the mortal remains in a mound be those of a child, little or no attention is shown it; but should it be those of a father or a mother, the relatives who are left behind do not fail to show great respect and attention to the spirit of the departed one. Should they not render such attention, they believe the spirit has power to inflict upon them great sorrow and adversity.

Some of their methods of showing respect I have observed to be as follows: After a body is prepared for burial, candles and incense are kept burning, near the head and the feet; also bowls of rice and other food, with a pair of chopsticks, are placed within easy reach, for the use of the spirit. On the day of the funeral some one is hired to scatter representations of paper money along the road, just ahead of the bier. In determining the position of the coffin at the grave, great care is taken to have the head turned directly toward some favorite temple, that the spirit may have no trouble in finding its way there. Before the casket is covered with sod, a religious ceremony is held in this way: All the relatives present, beginning with the nearest kinsman, kneel down and bow from one to three times, to the one whom they now hold in such great esteem. Even the tiniest children are taught to thus bow before and reverence their ancestor. This being finished, there is then kindled, at the foot of the casket, a small fire of paper money, by which means they believe the value thereof is transported to the spirit-world for the use of their departed one.

A day or two after the funeral, and on special feast-days, the near relatives carry food to the grave and offer the food to the spirit by placing it in bowls before the grave. They also again burn paper money or incense. While the fire burns, and the food remains to be received by the spirit, a woman, usually the nearest relative, kneels by the side of the grave and begins a long-drawn-out season of lamenting and wailing for the sorrow that has come upon her on account of the death of the one by whose grave she is kneeling. She soon almost prostrates herself.

During this season of weeping, she enumerates over and over, all the virtues and good qualities of the departed one, and begs him to come back to her. She usually continues in this frenzy until some one who has accompanied her, pulls her up, bidding her cease the wailing. The bowls of food previously offered to the spirit are now given to the children or carried home for others to eat. By this manner of wors.h.i.+p the woman is supposed to show great honor and reverence to the deceased, whether he was her father, brother, husband, or son.

Well do I remember the strange feelings that came over me the first few times I witnessed from my window such a scene as I have just described.

I felt such a longing to go to the weeping woman, put my arms around her, and comfort her sad heart. But to my utter astonishment, within two or three minutes after all her touching lamentations she was up laughing, talking, and having a jovial time with those about her!

Whence came those agonizing groans, and whither had they flown? Had "He who is touched with the feeling of our infirmities" comforted her heart? Had the G.o.d of heaven, who is a present help in every time of trouble, stretched forth his loving hand to dry her tears of sorrow?

Ah, no; sadly enough, no. Believe me, reader, when I say that these superst.i.tious women wors.h.i.+ping the spirits of departed ones have a form of sorrow and make a great pretense of distress, but that, in reality, it is only a custom or habit which has been copied from their grandmothers for generations back. This may seem hard to believe, but one thing which convinced me the quickest was that they all have precisely the same tune or swing to their wailing. After hearing it once or twice, you always recognize it afterwards, wherever you are, whether you see the person or not. It is like a recitation or song committed to memory. There may be no signs whatsoever of sorrow until after the woman has taken her place beside the grave, when she immediately begins in tones that could probably be heard, on a quiet day, a quarter of a mile away, and continues wailing in the same pitch until some one bids her cease, when her outward appearance of sorrow ceases as abruptly as it began. I do not mean to say that never is there any real sorrow mingled with the outward form. There may be, but it is the outward form which const.i.tutes the wors.h.i.+p and which every woman seems to know how to perform when the occasion presents itself.

Now permit me to tell something concerning the wors.h.i.+p of idols.

Originally, I had the idea that the inside arrangement of a heathen temple was very much the same as that of a Christian chapel; namely, that seats were orderly arranged for the wors.h.i.+pers and that the idols would be standing in the front where the pulpit should be. But upon my first visit to a temple, I saw that I was mistaken. At or near the temple door stand two very large, fierce-looking idols, known as guards of the temple. Arranged all around the sides are numerous other idols, of various kinds and sizes. But in the center of the building stands one or more large idols, who are supposed to impart different kinds of blessings to the wors.h.i.+per. Standing near by are a number of incense-pots, from which ascends smoke continuously on wors.h.i.+p-days.

On the floor can be seen a number of thick, round mats, on which the wors.h.i.+pers kneel as they bow before the idols. They do not have fixed hours of wors.h.i.+p and all a.s.semble at the appointed time, but at any time throughout the day few or many may go in and bow before whatever idols are supposed to bestow the kinds of blessings desired. The idol is not supposed to give out the blessing at the time the wors.h.i.+per bows before him, as some readers may have believed. For instance, at the beginning of a new year, if a man bows before the G.o.d of wealth, he does not expect the idol to hand out money to him, but rather he expects that during the coming year he shall have financial prosperity.

I remember once seeing a father bow before an idol, then take his three little children, one by one, show them how to kneel upon the mat, fold their little hands, and b.u.mp their heads several times upon the floor in front of the hideous idol, of which the little ones were afraid. The father noticed that I was observing closely the procedure. When it was all finished, he looked at me with a smile, as if to say, "Didn't they do well?"

These things can not but make sad the heart of a child of G.o.d. Catching a glimpse now and again of a bit of real idol-wors.h.i.+p helps one to realize that the church, in evangelizing the world, has indeed a mighty undertaking. From a human standpoint, it may seem impossible, but with G.o.d all things are possible.