Have We No Rights? by Mabel Williamson (chrysanthemum read aloud TXT) 📖

neighbors and friends turned up for the meeting, and several of the deacons took turns at preaching. A guest speaker had also been invited, the pastor of the church that had sent an unsolicited offering to help with the building. The meeting went on for more than two hours, but everyone was happy, and again and again praises ascended to God for their own church building!

A couple of years passed. The work of Mr. Beaver and Mr. Trainer continued as begun. Then suddenly the country was threatened by war. Worse still, the missionaries were labeled as "enemy nationals." A general evacuation took place. Both Mr. Beaver and Mr. Trainer were due for furloughs; and even if they had not been, remaining on the field could only bring harm to the Christians. Both of them gathered up a few things and departed, escaping from the country just in time. If they had remained a few days longer, they would have found themselves in concentration camps. When they arrived at home, each had a thrilling tale to tell of how God had worked in saving souls and building up His Church, and also of personal deliverance in time of danger. At the end of every message they gave came these words: "Pray for the Christians there. Because of the war, there is no way of getting news from them, and we have heard nothing since we left. Pray that they may be kept true, and that in spite of war and distress, the churches may grow and expand, and that many more souls may be brought to Christ."

The war was over. Friendly relations between countries were again established. Both missionaries had had profitable furloughs: time for rest and spiritual refreshment, and many opportunities to make known the needs, the difficulties, and the triumphs of the mission field. Then—something happened. Both men fully expected to get back to their original fields of work, to see again those dear Christians, their sons and daughters in the Lord—but neither did. Another call came to each, and neither could return to his former field. Others went instead—others who knew little about the history of the stations, or what work had been done there. What did these men find in these two fields? I think you can guess!

Mr. Beaver's station had always been supplied with plenty of money from abroad. By becoming a Christian a man could obtain a certain amount of relief money, perhaps a job, or free schooling for his children. Many had learned "the language of Zion" and had been taken into the church who had never had a change of heart. When war broke out and the missionary left, the jobs were finished, and the school closed down. There was no one to pay the evangelists, and they gradually drifted away to other places or into secular jobs. The deacons and elders had been accustomed to taking orders from Mr. Beaver and had had no real experience in looking after things themselves. Even some of those leaders were of the group that had joined the church, not because they had really repented and turned to Christ, but for the material benefits they could get.

As soon as Mr. Beaver left, they quarreled among themselves as to which one would take his place and be the "big chief." There was no one capable of taking services, because such things had always been in the hands of Mr. Beaver and his paid workers, who now were gone. None of the elders or deacons had ever preached a sermon in his life. Some tried, but their efforts did not draw the crowds, and attendance soon dwindled to almost nothing. Then quarrels about the property began. True, it belonged not to them, but to the mission board; but surely it was up to the church to look after it while the missionary was gone! Several so-called Christian families moved into the empty buildings, with or without the agreement of the deacons and elders; but then, thought they, the buildings should be occupied, and of course these people will pay us rent! (They never did.) Church services gradually ceased. A few faithful Christians remained true to the Lord, and met in a home for occasional services; but since none had been trained to lead meetings, all they could do was sing, read the Bible, and pray.

But what had happened at the other station? There the case was far different. They had gone through the sorrows of war, but they had done so with the Lord at their side. Continuing the work of the church was no problem—they had been doing it themselves all along. Money was hard to get, and many young men had to go to war; but the hearts of the people were open as never before, and they had baptisms once and again. They missed Mr. Trainer very much; but they were driven more than ever to the Lord, and found Him sufficient for their every need.

It is easy to say that one man was right and the other was wrong. But how many of us would not have followed in the footsteps of Mr. Beaver if we had not been warned? And how many of us missionaries today, even though warned, are not still in danger of making ourselves the little center around which the mission station revolves?

"It's all very well to say that the Christians should take the responsibility from the very beginning," we think; "but here it is impossible. These people are too poor! And they are too ignorant! No, they certainly would do everything wrong if I let them take the lead!" And so we go on telling everyone what he ought to do, and seeing that he does it; and in the eyes of the young believers the Christian life becomes simply a matter of doing what the missionary says.

That is not the way that Paul built churches. Great and dynamic character that he was, he so taught and led his groups of young Christians that when after a few months or a year or two he left them they were able to carry on by themselves, and even to grow. He did not put up church buildings for them, nor schools, nor give them "grants." He brought them to the place where they could function as living churches, in direct union with the Head, and not centered upon himself. His efforts were directed to building up churches that would be able to stand alone, because they stood in the strength of the One who upheld Paul.

Why is it so easy for us missionaries to think that we know how to do the work of the Lord better than any mission field convert, especially if that one has been led to the Lord by us? Doing the Lord's work is not fundamentally a matter of knowledge, training, or even experience. It may be true that I have had years of Bible training, and the little old woman with whom I am going out visiting has never been to any sort of school a day in her life; that I have traveled around the world, and she has never been thirty miles from the place where she was born; that I have heard the Gospel and studied the Bible all my life, and she has known it for only a few short years. I was born again twenty-five or thirty years ago; she has been the Lord's own for three or four years. Suppose we go to call on someone who is ill or in trouble. I get out a poster, and carefully explain the Gospel. The woman we are visiting listens to me with her mouth open; and after twenty minutes of as clear and simple preaching as I am capable of, when I am just getting to my climax, she lays her hand on my sleeve and asks earnestly, "Did you make this dress yourself?"

My heart sinks to my boots. Is that what she has been thinking about all this time? Is that why she fixed her eyes on me so intently? What's the use anyway?

Then the old lady who is with me starts in. She can't even tell clearly the bare outlines of the life of our Saviour; but she turns to the woman, one whose life and thoughts she knows (wasn't she just like her before she was saved?), and says, "Look at me! I used to have this trouble and that trouble and the other trouble, and then I came to Jesus, and asked Him to forgive my sins. He did it and took all my troubles away, and gave me peace and joy in my heart as I never dreamed of. Come to Him and you can have it too!"

When the one on whom we are calling says suddenly, "I'm going to believe too," it is far more likely to be the result of my companion's testimony than of my fine Gospel message!

Are you a missionary volunteer? When you get to the mission field, remember that a simple, earnest testimony from one who is "just like we are" will usually bring far more in the way of results than your own best efforts. Don't think that the missionary is the only one who can bring souls to the Lord. The one who has just been saved may easily become a more effective witness than you yourself.

No matter how uneducated and degraded the group, there are always in it one or more who are leaders. No matter how poor and ignorant he is, the one who has been truly saved, and knows that he is saved, is always capable of witnessing to others of his own group. No matter how poor a little group of Christians is, if they continue in prayer and patient effort they will surely be able to provide for themselves a meeting house that is as good as their own homes, or a little better. The Church of God is not dependent upon Gothic arches and stained glass windows, upon ministers in Geneva gowns and upon robed choirs. It is not dependent upon material resources, or this world's learning. None of these things are essentials. The only things that are essentials to the Church of Christ are found in Christ and in the penitent and forgiven soul, no matter what his race or culture or economic status. The Church of Christ can function on any level at which men for whom Christ died are living.

It is very easy for the missionary to become a little "pope." God forbid that we should do this! God forbid that we should consider ourselves the exclusive channels for bringing God's grace to needy souls, or the only ones capable of hearing God's voice! God forbid that we should forget that every believer, as soon as he is born again, is indwelt by the Holy Spirit! And may God open our eyes to ways and means of doing what is perhaps the greatest task of the missionary, the task of bringing the young church to the place where it can get along without us, the task of working ourselves out of a job!

Chapter 12 He Had No Rights

He had no rights: