The Soul-Seedling Patch 147
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could such far-away isolated poverty be? Why talk about it! Write every month about it? The world may not care—and indeed it does not. However, Heaven is watching that wild mountain brow with joy and brooding love, and it is Heaven's interest that makes us talk of this place to you. Those little shanties are Oak Flat Village, of course, and Heaven is interested because there is a Soul-seedling Patch here—the Rainy Season Bible School.
I told you before how at the end of May each year, the Soul-seedlings gathered from all parts of the canyon. Such insignificant, barefoot, coarse-clad laddies, climbing these steep wrinkles on Mother Nature's brow, perspiring yet laughing, tired yet hopeful, crawling in here from north, south, east and west like so many minute flies! A passer-by would never dream that there had been a stiff fight in the heavenlies, before some of those little "flies" were set free to come. Yet it was so.
Prayer was the only thing that opened some of their barred pathways.
And as they came trudging over the muddy trails, their bantering talk lets loose, perhaps, the flash of an angry eye here, or a carnal word drops there, or the lagging steps of that one betrays a tendency to laziness, and we realize each one of them is a son of Adam the First. Did that discourage the angels, I wonder? No, I think the angels are more patient than we. I think the angels were looking with eyes of gentle happiness at the book-bag slung over ev2ry shoulder. Inside that little cloth bag was a Book which has turned the world upside down—a Book which tells of a last Adam, who has redeemed all that the first Adam wrecked, and whose we may become by a New Birth. They are not on the Seedling Patch long before they are questioned whether they have experienced that New Birth; because there is no hope of growth where there is no life. But they all have, they say—only they do not know how to appropriate or use that inheritance, so here they are.
Before that first three-months' R.S.B.S. we held a week's Bible study as a sort of "'try-out."" Those eleven who attended did not all turn out successfully, but they are very typical of the ordinary R.S.B.S. student body. Friends enjoyed that early circular about them, so we reprint it here.
Our Very First SEEDLINGS "Belle, what are you grinning at, there in the corner with your paper and pencil?" asked John, looking up from a moment's lull in his dictation class. - "I'm jotting down some impressions of your pupils, for our prayer partners," was the explanation.
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Eleven black heads were studiously bent over books around the long stretch of table at the head of which sat John. The table was composed of one round one, plus one square one, plus two square cupboards all placed end to end, and the students were the Ma-pa-ra (which being interpreted means the Small Teachers, or, as we have called them, the evangelists). Our idea has been to call them all in once every seven weeks for Bible study, so that they have one week of study followed by six weeks of preaching in the villages—putting into practice, we hope, what they learned during study week. Some of the eleven were Ma-pa-ra for whose board the church pays; others were laymen who pay their own expenses. As this little band will be the core of our Rainy Season
Bible Classes, I thought you might like to meet them individually.
The "grin" was at various boyish characteristics, which I fear I cannot convey to paper.
Junta A stripling, looks seventeen but is really twenty. Lives at Spirea Flat and has been a believer for eight years. Slight, eager, intense, he is the one who started out after the February Bible school "to do God's work," taking nothing, not even a hat. He got bad headaches from the sun, and returned with another Lisu's old cast-off hat, a wreck of felt which was too large and sank down over his eyebrows, giving him an eclipsed appearance. Dear Junia—went off radiant and excited and returned under an eclipse, but only as to his head—his heart was still happy. This is very typical of him. When we were leaving for furlough Junia had an attack of measles, but refused to let that keep him from our farewell service. Hot with fever and speckled like a leopard he walked the five miles to and five miles from Oak Flat; I got quite a shock when I saw that measly face, rapt with attention, in the middle of our audience!
SILAS Twenty-three years old, from near Horse Grass Level. Had believed for three years. At first we thought he was stupid. The dictation lesson finds Silas laboriously working his pencil. He writes a few words then sits back scratching his head to look at them as if he wondered how he did it; bends to the task once more, carves out two more scraggly words and again stops, tugging at his collar to loosen its grip. Writes two more and then stands up and looks around to see how the others are conquering. When he happens to answer a question correctly he is the most astonished member in the class, which is saying something.
But we later discovered that he can surprise everyone by remembering
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accurately some minor point that nobody else got; alas, that is characteristic. He has a talent for doing the wrong thing. What he should remember, he doesn't; but the complicated point that we expect will make no permanent impression on any one is faithfully registered on Silas. In other words, it is not that he can't study, but because he is incurably lackadaisical.
For practice preaching the class was told to prepare a message on the resurrection as Easter was approaching. All did so but Silas, who when his turn carfie gave a thoughtful résumé on the death of Christ. John expostulated, "But when I asked you to preach on the resurrection, why didn't you, Silas?"
Silas did not know why he hadn't—and neither did anyone else.
In another dictation class John said, "Where have you got to, Silas?"
(They were copying Philippians, which John taught that week.) Without looking up from his book the lad replied, "The tenth chapter." There was a roar of laughter.
"But Philippians only has four chapters!" suggests someone. Oh, well! maybe it was the tenth verse Silas was copying; anyway, he was copying something. Dear boy, it is a shame to laugh at him. He has a sweet disposition, never gets angry and takes all the embarrassment with a smile.
Lucius Twenty years old, comes from Village-of-the-Olives, the only child of Christian parents and supported by them in these study groups— not a Ma-pa-ra yet. He is quick as a flash, sits next to the bottom of the class, but leads it. John says, "He stretches his long neck around the corner of the table—and misses nothing."' Quick of mind, his thoughts outrace his tongue so that his words often come forth on the stampede.
Has the shyness and high-strung mettle of a thoroughbred colkt.
Lupa-PETER Twenty-five years old, lives at Luda, has believed for nine years.
Some would say he is the handsome one of the group, has suave manners with a graceful poise. A good speaker and an excellent song leader; has a splendid knowledge of the portions of the Bible already translated.
Is a pleasure to teach, he is so bright, but one has indefinable feeling that these points are but an attractive shell and that the centre is hollow.
This lad needs prayer or something. He has not been dismissed from the ministry because he gave a testimony of blessing after the February
Bible School, after which he was sent to the backslidden village of Water Buffalo Mountain and won three families back to the Lord. It may be there is a spiritual revival in store for him.
I§o
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NATHANAEL
Twenty-two years old and a Christian for two and a half years only.
Lives at Horse Grass Level. Is stocky, pleasant-looking, with a broad forehead and an open countenance that begets trust. Study does not come easily to him; he ranks next to Silas, whose right to the bottom of the class, however, is beyond dispute! Nat has good solid qualities and surprised us by his sermon which was thoughtful and well delivered.
OB : Thirty-two years old, comes from Stockade Hill district, has believed for eighteen years; is the man who first brought the gospel to these parts. Small, slight, pockmarked, undignified; with his hat often stuck on a side corner of his head looks more like a horse jockey than an evangelist. Perhaps the most insignificant-looking member of the class, but as far as we know, the greatest soul-winner Lisuland has yet produced. Job has so few natural gifts, and yet has been so used of God, that he is a monument of what God can do with any man who brings
Him nothing much more than a heart of purposeful devotion. Now I am going to tell you something . . . just lest you think that we are all saints here and sit with halos around our heads! Job is not a "glowing" listener. Nay, he is the very opposite; I do not suppose there is one in the group who nettles his teachers (we all testify to this) with inattention as Job does. He is not really inattentive, as you will learn to your surprise some day when you hear him giving that message of yours to which you thought he had not listened! But he is just incurably restless. You spread your very best prepared eloquence before him and—he picks his teeth, or fiddles with his ear; he squirms and wriggles and finally turns around and stares at each of his neighbours. If perchance your subject should really require his thought, then he is less inspiring than ever; back goes his head, his jaw drops wide open, his eyes roll up to the ceiling—the most vacant of faces, you would never guess that this is Job thinking hard. But it is. You have to know Job. When you know him you love him—and love makes allowances.
CHO-A-TSEH
Twenty-two years old, from Goo-moo in Burma; acted as Job's escort home, but we pressed him to stay for this week of Bible study.
He has a very affectionate, almost girlish manner. Simply adored John, laughed hilariously at all his jokes, and was never happier than when holding his hand and exclaiming, "Oh, Ma-Pa!" The week's study made a bigger change in him than in anyone; all of a sudden the "gush" seemed to leave, and he became thoughtful and quiet—gave the most
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I$§t satisfactory testimony (to my thinking) of any, in the last night's testimony meeting.
ARISTARCHUS
Twenty-two years old (cousin to Gaius) from Sandalwood Flat.
Has believed for five years. Has a very shy, super-sensitive nature; lips that twitch and work like a rabbit's. Goes around with an awkward and self-conscious manner, even sometimes has a hang-dog look and a furtive glance as if always expecting life to hit him a blow. But when he stands up to preach, all that falls from him like a cloak; he speaks fearlessly, directly and with a quiet insistence that his audience understand his point. Has probably the deepest prayer-life of any in the group, but is so unobtrusive and quiet with it that few know. This boy left a position where he got his food and sixty dollars a year for the ministry where he gets his food and sixteen dollars a year! This is the wage for the Ma-pa-ra; Job, Luke and Andrew get more for they are "teachers," i.e. ""Ma-Pa." The white missionary is Ma-pa-da-ma or Big Teacher, but to his face usually called merely Ma-Pa.
RuFus Tall, thin, pockmarked. Twenty-three years old and a believer for four years. Reminds me of a cowboy. No shyness about him; willing to try anything once, and frequently quite pleased with his "try." Alert in mind but not much sign yet of a spiritual mind. Capable, willing—
"One thing thou lackest."
Jonax (Sah-gwey-chee) Twenty-two years old, from Village of the Olives; a believer for six years. In temperament he is the Simon Peter of the class. Warmhearted and impetuous, he is the most appreciative and responsive, as far as words go, of any in the group. Resourceful and energetic, he is a natural leader, but has the Peter-weakness of acting first and thinking afterwards! Deep-voiced, a rapid speaker with a bright mind. Jonah
(and Titus) keep Lucius on the qui vive for first place.
TITus Twenty-two years old, younger brother of Andrew, comes from Stockade Hill, is a layman supporting himself. Has believed for sixteen years, but declares he was only "born again" this spring of 1938. He is a marked contrast to Jonah; as coldly calculating as the other is affectionate and impulsive. Titus is usually alone, Jonah is often found hugging a pal. Jonah receives the doctrine with bursts of appreciation; Titus says
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little, but a gleam in his eyes and a certain quick intaking of breath reveal his interest. They sit together, not because they are attracted to each other, but because they want to get as close to the teacher as they can. Titus has a shrewd, sharp business sense and—dimples. He knows
"where he is at" (which is not true of Jonah) and his artistic impulse covers all his books with drawings. He has another gift—the loveliest tenor voice I have heard in Lisuland. John said, "When Titus sings it touches the heart, somehow brings the tears, doesn't it?"
Now I have told you about our boys, and I wonder if you have been able to see them—really. I wonder how much you have noticed.
That they are all very different, yes? That they are very young? But then youth has enthusiasm and heroic loyalty to offer"to its King, very often; Robert M. McCheyne did most of his work before he was thirty, did he not?
These extracts from circulars throughout the years are not given in chronological order, but we have been consistent in always giving the same name to each character. When we got more than one "John," for instance, we numbered them; we actually had First John, Second John and Third John at one school! Just plain John, of course, is my husband!
And now for our first R.S.B.S. when Homay and Me-do-mepa were still with us, and the church just recovering from the bewilderment of Brother Two's days. Those days had done some good—the church's self-complacency was shaken, and they were willing to listen to the answer to the question, "What is wrong with us?"
May 28, 1938, was a great day. On that day the students for the Rainy Season Bible Classes arrived in groups at intervals all day long. Those from the south came first, among them was
Aristarchus returning from a trip in Horse Grass Level district where he reported thirty converts from heathenism. The party from Luda district arrived next; among them was a new believer
—so new that he did not even know how to read, but had carried his own food supply for the three months' study and came prepared to learn. He bought books immediately on arrival, and the next day I found him drifting about our house, his books hugged to his bosom, his mouth wide open, and his eyes the same, as he investigated how these white people live. We nicknamed him "'Brand-New."
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"YE MUST BE BorN AGAIN"
This has been our central theme. Opening day was given to prayer and fasting, with some good results. Mrs. Yang made a confession with tears, and the consecration service at night saw some young lives given over to their Master's use.
But before and after this, Charles Peterson and John spent time in interviewing privately practically every student with definite questions on their own regeneration. With the exception of Brand-New, there was not one who did not give a satisfactory answer, and it was surprising to me to see how many of them date their "New Birth" to our April study week when Job gave a message on John iii that stirred everyone.
We decided the Lisu church leaders (for, as you remember, this is mainly an evangelists' Bible school) need to be saturated with this foundational doctrine, so every day in practice preaching class each student, as his turn came, had to give a message on the New Birth. I wish you could have heard Job, Luke, Aristarchus and Nathanael.
As if this were not enough, Mr. Peterson gave a message on the same subject every night for a week, so it has been quite uppermost in Lisu minds. Each week-end the student body scatters (girls included), going into the villages on this side of the river. Some of our boys must walk over twenty-five English miles, take three services, walk back the same distance, and do it all between Saturday morning and Monday morning when classes start. Not one of them has failed us so far. Our hearts have been touched by their weary but happy faces as they run in to shake hands early Monday morning, having just completed such a journey.
Every week but one they have had to do it in the rain, and Lisu don't usually have raincoats or umbrellas. No wonder the missionary learns to love his Lisu until he can say with Paul, "It is life to me now, if you stand firm in the Lord." The first week-end our students reached about five hundred Lisu; the next over seven hundred; and this last week-end a still greater number. Between the early classes on Monday we have
Report Hour when each gets up and tells his experiences. Don't you wish you could listen in?
But to go back to our first week: June 1-4 were days of heart preparation messages. Then on Saturday Andrew walked in. It was a crowning joy and there is evidence that prayers for him had not been in vain.
He arrived a sick boy, with a heavy cold which developed a strange puffy rash all over his body, but he said quietly, "I have never been sick since I've been up there, and now when I come to study God's
Word I get ill! I believe it is an attack of the devil," and he steadfastly refused to be downed by it; he not only continued to come to classes
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but at the end of the week he led everybody in the examination on 1 Corinthians,
LISTENING IN
How we have wished we could share with you some of the glimpses into these Lisu hearts. The only way I could think of was to jot down a few sentences from their prayers, now and again as I heard them.
"Lord, I'm not worthy to be Thy slave and Thou hast made me Thy friend. I am worthy of death, and Thou hast given me eternal life."
"Thy name is written on my heart and my name is written on Thy hands, so we cannot be separated."
"Lord, Thou art my refuge; if I had not Thee I would have no hiding lace."
' "L used to pray to Thee, Lord, just for what I wanted; I never thought or cared if Thou didst want anything. But oh, that was wrong, please forgive me. Now I desire what Thou dost want."
"Lord, give strength to our teachers; help them so that when they teach, we may see the face of Jesus."
"Let Thy name be always in our hearts. Let it be as a perfume there."
For mankind all, Thy love is shown, Yet seems't to be for me alone; I claim Thee for my very own, My Jesus.
Doesn't this verse—spoken probably by a white voice—find its echo in these Lisu heart cries?
We have some little notes slipped to us now and again. Here is an extract from a boy who had just had a talking to, on putting the will of God before his own will; "If ever you have any exhortation for me, please give it quickly. I won't be offended. If there were nothing in me to correct, I would not be in here."
This from one who regularly failed in every examination, but who showed by his preaching that he was assimilating the new truth: "I would like to say a few words to you by the Blood of the Lord Jesus and in His Name. I have no ability to study the doctrines of God and the Lord
Jesus. Although I study in the school, I cannot think up the answers, Big Brother Kuhn. But although I can't memorize I have received the truth that Jesus Christ died for me on the Cross. Now all that I have, my spirit and body, are His, I have given up all to Him. I can never forget
His Cross. You have taught me much, Big Brother, and it has brought joy in Christ. Thank you so much. Although I cannot memorize His
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I$5 doctrines, because His Blood was poured out to purchase me, I must always be happy.
In the days of 1938, Homay was still with us, of course, so her name appears in the circulars.
BEHIND THE SCENES
If you were able to pass through the House of Grace between hours, you would behold in the large living-dining room, in one corner near the window, a little Lisu lady bending her turbaned head with an anxious expression over a large book of loose manuscript leaves and with pretty plump little olive hands, typing away earnestly at a typewriter which was bought in Lancaster, Pa.! This is Homay, and without her and her typewriter this Bible school could not possibly have been held. She types out twelve copies of each Book we teach, so that as we teach these new and strange Epistles the students are able to read with us—if they could not do that, they would never understand, for the Pauline letters contain many expressions which the Lisu language does not possess and which have to be coined and carefully taught.
Lately I have had to teach "fellowship" and "example." When we first said "ja-la-ko" no one (but Homay, Luke and Job who had previously learned it) knew what we were saying; we had to explain not only that ja-la-ko meant fellowship, but what "fellowship" really is.
This reminds me of Trench's book, The Study of Words, He calls attention to the fact that no people can have a word before they have the experience which the word illuminates or describes. He says, "There is no such witness to the degradation of the savage as the brutal poverty of his language—rich in words which proclaim their shame, poor in these which attest the workings of any nobler life among them." He had doubtless never heard of the Lisu, yet this is true of our natives too.
Words to express sin in various forms are plentiful—they tell you with gusto how to skin a human being alive, fat if you asked them what holiness was, they would not know, they had no word for it. Their language had no word of course for redemption, or justification, or grace, but it also had no word for religion, nor for exaltation, nor for conscience nor many other things. Just yesterday I had the word for humility on the board and Lucius asked what it meant. He said he had never heard of it before. And when we gave a message on conscience even Homay came to us and said she had not understood what that word meant in the scriptures, and did not know that she herself possessed a conscience. Yet the Lisu language had a word for God, i.e. Wu-sa. They knew Wu-sa
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but they do not worship Him, and there seems to me to be evidence that the Lisu race once had a higher knowledge of life.
I want to slip in another picture from the week-end evangelism as it is so typical of many things Lisu.
"THE FATHER IS ALWAYS WATCHING"
It was communion week-end, and A-che and Lucius were commissioned to take that service at Squirrel's Grave Village. As the Salween is now, of course, swollen, they had to cross by rope bridge. There was quite a party to cross, for other Ma-pa-ra were going to take services elsewhere on the west bank, and also Juliet with two girl friends from Runaway Horse Ascent had to be helped over too. Those three girls studied with us the whole month of July, paying their own way. Altogether there was such delay at the rope bridge that the two boys around which this tale hangs, could not make their destination that day, but decided to sleep at a Chinese hamlet where there is a. Christian
Lisu family. But by the time they arrived there, dark had fallen and as robbers have abounded this year, the Lisu family had closed and barred their door and were all inside. Approaching the house they were stopped by a clear call, "Stand or we shoot!" As the Lisu poisoned arrow has to prick the skin in any point to bring death they "stood" very quickly and obediently.
"Don't be afraid of us!" they called back. "We are only two Ma-pa-ra on our way to Squirrel's Grave Village to take the communion service.
We want to sleep with you to-night."
"Humph!" comes the retort from mine host. "Ma-pa-ra eh? Maybe you are and maybe you aren't. How do I know?"
"Well," calls out Lucius, who knew them personally, "Pu-ra-pa, you ought to know me. I am Born-on-the-Road from Village-of-theOlives." (Some of you thought I made up Lucius' heathen name myself;
I did not. His uncle-named him that in fun over the event, and the name stuck. More people know him by that name than any other.)
"Oh; yeah?" came a sarcastic drawl, this time from the roof of Pu-ra-pa's house, where mine host had climbed up better to protect his family. He was armed with a huge bow and poisoned arrows, a big knife and a long spear. "It is very likely that young Born-on-theRoad is in this place at this time of night. Quite handy to borrow a good fellow's name, it is." (Lucius had not visited this family for years.)
"Let's run for it," whispered A-che, "and sleep in the bush to-night."
"No," answered Lucius. "If we run he will think for sure we are
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1§7 robbers and shoot, and just one prick .
. you know!" Then patiently our laddie tried again.
"I am Born-on-the-Road all the same, and my pal is A-che from Luda and we are on our way to preach."
"Hm. If you are Ma-pa-ra then you can sing. Tune up a hymn and perhaps we will believe you." So out in the dark, hungry and weary, our two laddies sang The Holy Spirit is with me. But from inside the house comes a girl's voice. "Dad, there are a lot of backsliders nowadays that can sing 'hymns too; you had better be careful."
But just then the mother of the house had an inspiration. There was a peek-hole near their door, so she stuck a pine torch through it, causing the light to fall on the two boys' faces. "I know Born-on-the-Road," she began, then changed quickly: "Why it is he, sure enough! Come down, Dad. It's all right! My, my, my——" and then the doors were thrown open and welcome and cordiality flooded the tired pair. What laughs they had telling us of it! But more than one Lisu thief has died this summer from the poisoned arrow of a stout hearted crop-defender.
That in none of the week-end preaching excursions was any student harmed is a matter of thanksgiving to God.
I hope you have not forgotten that this is still a story of little Nests above a dark abyss, but with a Rock-shelter who "'follows" them.
Opps AND ENDs Our youngest student was informed just the evening before, that through the unexpected sickness of the one previously scheduled to go, he alone would have to be responsible for the week-end services of Knoll Village. He had never had such a responsibility to shoulder by himself before, and the next morning before breakfast he dashed into the bedroom of our bachelor missionary (blessed haven to the anxious student heart) and planted before that astonished gentleman his Lisu Gospel, a paper and pencil. "Write me a sermon outline on 'Seek ye first the kingdom of God' !" was his graphic order, whereupon he disappeared to go eat his breakfast, happily confident of the results, just like any American boy who slips a nickel across the drugstore counter and orders a cone to be ready in five minutes—and neither was our Lisu laddie disappointed. When he dashed in to get it and go, there was an outline ready for him!
From another circular:
Our "Baby" sits next. Lucius is taller than I am, and a splendid
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athlete, but in years he is our baby. He is responsible for the ringing of the gongs, and we persuaded him at night to take charge of John's gold watch. He was very reluctant to put his strong, inexperienced fingers on that delicate, ticking gold disk. Then sure enough—the worst happened. We heard his shuffling step in the next room one morning when I was combing my hair and a concerned young voice came through the bamboo mat wall—"Ma-ma, the watch has died! It doesn't go now."
Quickly remembering that we had neglected to wind it the night before, I told him not to worry, but to put it on the desk. Later a few twists and the familiar tick-tick came back. I immediately sought out our worried Baby. "Lucius, the watch has come back to life!!"" My, what a smile, If only that watch will continue to live, Lucius' burdens will be light.
Our strongest (one who has carried my two-hundred-pound husband on his back through the rain down a slippery mountainside) stood baffled before the problem of how to remove a paper-clip..He had been asked to help me to rearrange some exhibition writing samples which were clipped to a string, and I was quite unconscious that paperclips were a new thing in this young life. I turned to find him earnestly doing his very hefty best to unwind the wire spirals, which was the only way he could see to get rid of the thing. He had it well on the way to wreckage before I saw him and cried out, "Oh, that isn't the way!
See!" and in a second I had whipped off the neighbouring clip before his astounded gaze. "'A-geh!"" he exclaimed in disgust at the ease with which things can be done if only you know how!
Our cleverest (as far as examinations are concerned) had desired to find him a private nook where he could practise the conducting of our newest musical attempt, which you shall hear about in a moment. He chose the corner between his cabin and the pig-sty, quite unconscious that he was in view from Ma-Ma's window. I happened to look out and there, singing and waving his hand, he stood, leading the pigs with unction and fervour in Handel's Hallelujah Chorus!
This sounds impossible (perhaps the pigs still think it is), but Mr. and Mrs. Cooke while at Bana translated this wonderful piece of inspiration into Lisu, taught it to Luke, Homay and A-che, and sent it back with them. Luke is now teaching it to us of the Bible school and though I have heard it more than once in America, it has never so thrilled me as when our Lisu sing it. They Jove it and sing it with all the passion of their hearts. "The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our
Lord and of his Christ" —oh, how that rolls out! how the soprano sinks, then lifts! how the bass climbs up to meet it and the tenor like a bird
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swoops under and then soars over. It is inexpressibly grand—praise God.
Jonah? had been teaching in Goo-moo, Burma, earlier in the year, and came home all enthused with the reverence and order of the service of Mark's leadership. Lucius has just been elected Village Service
Leader; the two boys are second cousins, so Jonah was not long in inspiring the other to join him in an effort to maintain the same order in the chapel at Village of the Olives. John spoke at the big noon service, and shortly after he began I noticed Jonah slip to the back of the chapel and take his stand near the door with a long stick in his hand.
When any youngster in the audience began to get audibly restless he received a stern poke in the middle of the back by the aforementioned rod. It was a silent but vigorous reminder that if he did not listen he might later have to deal with the broad-chested young man at the other end of the stick. And he listened.
Up at the front Lucius was seated. A husky young farmer near him grew tired at the unusual inactivity of listening and decided to sprawl his limbs over the empty bench in front of him. As the first brown leg was casually journeying through the air, it received a sharp tap from Lucius and quickly withdrew like a frightened snail into its proper place and was not seen to wander again. What we had always considered impossible—order in a Lisu service—had been accomplished by these two determined youngsters.
Memories of August seem to be marked by sunset scenes; the first is trivial but illuminating.
The village of Oak Flat was not directly on the banks of the Salween River, but rather perched on the mountain wall of a tributary which runs into the Salween. To reach the real bank of the Salween, however, was but the matter of five minutes' walk to the west over a path which curves, zigzags and then drops down to a slender wooded ridge which we long ago named Sunset, for there we would go at the cool of the day to keep tryst.
One evening in early August we went down to Sunset Ridge for a school-family picnic supper. We white folk took rugs and cushions to sit on, but these children of the hills did not seem to notice their lack of such possessions for they merrily and 1 Christian names are given to converts by anyone who is asked for them. In this case it was Job who gave Jonah his name.
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quickly pulled each a heap of soft leaves from nearby bushes and sat themselves down on the top of their thrones. In the centre were black sooty iron pots containing boiled corn and chunks
_ of boiled pork, and the extras—the dainties and decorations—for ; our feast were well supplied in the sweets of loving smiles and cheery banter, and by the matchless panorama of the sun as he entered the mountains of the western bank, spreading out his canopies of gold, then pink and finally twilight silver. As the latter fell softly around us, Titus and some pals, the first to finish eating, gathered at our right and sang to us, Hallelujah, what a Saviour! Hallelujah, what a Friend! One by one the others joined in and the falling dusk was filled with the melodies of our favourite hymns, for at the end of each they turned to us to make the next choice.
The next memory is quite different. It was the evening of August 18. I had been feeling slightly discouraged, wondering if we teachers were not too ordinary in our own spiritual lives, wondering if the boys' hearts were being penetrated with the Word the way we wanted them to be, and so on, At sunset time
I slipped out for the usual tryst, but this time decided to go up the mountain instead of descending to Sunset Ridge. The evening wind was blowing cool and sweetly in my face and I turned to the upward path which cuts across a ploughed field first, and suddenly turning a corner I came upon Junia and Lucius who were descending, apparently from the same errand on which I was bound. They passed me in smiling but self-conscious silence, and I was reminded that those two were scheduled to take between them the week-end services at Village-of-Knoll the coming Saturday. We had continually urged our boys to "keep tryst" and to pray about such things, but who did, and where they did, I had no notion. These two, being such youngsters, had evidently felt their weakness and I had stumbled upon their little effort to fortify themselves.
Pleased and gratified, I continued to climb, when I heard a voice on the trail above; wishing for solitude I decided to avoid him so turned and broke srouee the wild bush to a place higher up. The mountains were a darkening grey flecked with white
Ais the passion of sunset colour had long passed and the
THE SOUL-SEEDLING PATCH
cold, steady beauty of night seemed to steel one's heart to fresh strength. The One I had come to meet was not absent, but I might not tarry, so after a while I arose and returned to the trail; I feared the bush at that hour, and perhaps the student had left. But no, before I came in sight I could hear his voice clear and strong, "O Father God, help me to learn this Book——" and then I knew he was praying. I tried not to listen and glided more swiftly and carefully onward, but a curve of the path and I saw him, kneeling before the open scriptures, his face right down on the grass even with his knees and his voice cutting the still air with all the freedom of one who believes himself to be entirely alone in the woods. He did not see me at all, so occupied was he, but my first glance drew a second, for I could hardly believe my eyes were telling the truth, and as I stopped to look
I heard him say distinctly, "O Father God, I hand over my whole body, soul, and spirit to Thee—do with me as Thou willest," then with thrilled heart I turned and fled down the path out of sight and sound. What I could hardly believe was this, that praying lad was not our Aristarchus, nor any of the spiritual leaders of the student body, but that boy alone on the mountain consecrating himself to his Maker, was our dear little
Brand-New.
The third scene is that of our consecration service at Sunset Ridge the evening of August 26. Our last week we were to have guests, as you shall hear, so the preceding week we viewed as the last we would spend together as a "family," and the last night of that week we betook ourselves to the open for a bonfire service.
Though that was in the rainy season, never had there been a kindlier one; especially was August wonderful—heavy rain at night and in the early morning, but clear and sunny hours through the day. We had prayed beforehand and asked our dear
Giver of all good gifts if He would not add a starlit night on August 26 to His list of generosities, and He was pleased to do just that! As we set out for the spot at sunset, I thought I had never seen the heavens above so beautiful. The mountains were a jagged line of dark blue and scattered over the pale upper hemisphere were clouds which had caught and held the last fire
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
of the now invisible sun. Our world was a dusky mass of jade topped with pearl and rose, which shifted and paled as if it were breathing and then all quietly melted away to give place to a slight moon and faraway stars. Night comes swiftly in those arts.
¥ Soon a different scene held our eyes, a tent-shaped tower of flaming boughs which cast light and shadow on a wide circle of dear faces, all tender with the thought that this was our last family night together, and all grave with expectancy as my husband John arose and came forward to give his message on "Sacrifice." At its close he called for all those who wished to consecrate their lives completely to God from henceforth to come forward and kneel with him, and one by one they came.
As far as we could see—for some were in the shadow and one might not pry on such an occasion—every one of our beloved students sooner or later joined the inner circle. Hearts were then poured out to God in prayer, and afterward on happy risen feet they gave glad testimony. From a letter written at that time:
And now the evening is far spent—my watch has stopped but the pale moon has journeyed far across the sky. The word comes to stand and form a friendship circle; fresh boughs are heaped on the low fire and the flame soars and sings with joy as it reaches upward, casting its golden light on a great circle of fifty faces, glad smiling faces, while our Youngest tosses his head with rapture and calls out "Ka-chi: (Joy !)" at the beauty of the scene. A hymn or two, the benediction, and we break up, but memory has still a last gift for us. Pine torches are lit to find us our path back to Oak Flat, for the moon is a mere curved wisp in the sky; as we climb the trail and reach its highest level we stand a moment, turn and look back and there behind us, flickering through the pine boughs like living golden jewels is the string of pine torches flaring out bravely into the dark and suddenly lighting up beloved faces which lift themselves laughingly toward us, and then as we turn once more to the path the music of dear voices pursues us lovingly through the night to our very door.
At the end of each Rainy Season Bible School, we held closing day exercises. The students elected their own chairman, songleader, and valedictory speakers. They marched in to music, and at the close of the service, each received a certificate with his
THE SOUL-SEEDLING PATCH
rank on it (honours or just pass, etc.). Here is an account of Closing Day, 1939—that summer the Tabernacle had been taught.
OnE C1iosinc Day "Homay-y-y! Oh... are those flowers for your own room? Say, don't forget to pick some for the boys, will you?" The broad little figure laughed up at me.
"Just like last year, Ma-Ma?"
"Yes—everybody must wear a flower." Then, as I passed Brand-New on my way to the chapel—''Don't forget to go to the House-of-Grace and get a posy for your buttonhole!" brought a smile to his wellscrubbed countenance. Brand-New was looking quite civilized now.
The chapel floor was strewn with fresh pine needles—a fragrant joy which elicited an exclamation from one young Lisu girl, "Isn't it nice to have a celebration!" Up at the front was a temporary platform for the student body, at one side the portable organ, and opposite at the other side a table with a small model of the Tabernacle on it, which Job
| 'was putting in position preparatory to explaining it briefly. Caleb and Simon were flitting excitedly around, recalling memories of last year when they were both in the Hallelujah Chorus, Sickness kept both of them from attending more than one week this season, much to their sorrow.
"Caleb, give me the signal when they get close so I can start the march," I requested, and met with a quick, smiling assent, followed later by a briskly waved hand, and then the twenty-three young people, single file, with measured step came slowly up the aisle. Thomas, handsomely attired, after having passed Homay's careful scrutiny, led the procession; each was well groomed with a bright zinnia tucked in somewhere and there was an impressive and pleased silence as Chairman
Christianson motioned them to sit down.
But alas! dignified occasions have been hitherto unknown in this land of the mannerless. I was just enjoying the solemnity of it all, when
Luke, who was song-leader for the day, started out of his seat in consternation, ""Where's my song book?" Then turning, he shouted at some invisible person in the audience, "Did you bring it?"
"OF course I did," came a female answer from the middle of the women's side. "Here it is," in tones of wifely indignation that he should doubt her faithfulness in public. It was handed up the aisle, and our dear song-leader, unconscious that he had ruined the dignity of the occasion, sat back in his seat with a sigh of satisfaction that now he was equipped for what lay ahead.
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Titus was the first valedictory speaker. He was resplendent in black sateen with white anklets climaxed with pink shoes. The young monkey had coloured some white tennis shoes with beet juice (he is on good terms with our cook!) and appeared before us red-footed if not redhanded. He spoke on "The Dragon'"—tracing Satanic appearances through the scriptures, but especially in the book of Revelation. He was good.
Job came next with the model of the Tabernacle. He got along well until he came to the coverings which he had been warned beforehand not to attempt to expound. But, seeing so much interest in his audience, he felt buoyed up and (like some of the rest of us) plunged in, with the expected result. "And this," says he, holding up the white curtain with easy assurance, "was made of goat's hair." But goats are not white in Lisuland. A sudden fear smote him. In horror, he turned and called over his shoulder in a stage whisper to Ma-Ma, "'Was it?"
Whereupon his congregation grinned.
Andrew was the other valedictory speaker, and with his usual quiet composure spoke on the "Lamb of God," tracing that doctrine from Genesis to Revelation. Cath Christianson thought he was the best of the day.
A ae for lunch was followed by the afternoon meeting when the rest of the student body were to give five-minute testimonies as to the different books studied this summer—John being chairman. Apart from Lucius, who was confined to bed with a sore foot, each one spoke a few words. Nosu-Mary and one or two others were quite perspiry, but got through safely. Junia's was short and simple; he could not afford to perspire, he had too many clothes on. He evidently had decided to put on all the respectable garments he possessed, so as to be sure he had selected the right one.
Luda-Peter, who, unknown to himself (for we publish only general results), led the whole school with a percentage of 97%, got so nervous he began to pull the bark off the low beam over his head and wandered considerably from what he had promised Ma-Ma he would keep to, with the consequence that he mixed up shittim wood and almond wood, but otherwise made no heresy.
The Rainy Season Bible School for boys asked for the Hallelujah Chorus again this year, so they are practising it these evenings. Much of the success of this noble oratorio depends on alert and instant obedience to the leader. If that is missing you will find yourself singing,
"Ha——" with lusty enthusiasm all alone while your neighbours bury their noses in their sleeves and snicker; and you have a miserable feeling that public prominence is not what you covet after all. For
THE SOUL-SEEDLING PATCH
who could sing the Hallelujah Chorus without enthusiasm? "The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his
Christ...
. King of kings and Lord of lords—Hallelujah!" Why, to know that we are actually going to see that accomplished some day it sends the blood fairly racing through one's veins, with the joy of it. Ah, but if you "Ha" at the wrong moment—like Rhoda did last year on closing day, just because she was in the front row and too self-conscious to lift her head andwatch the leader—it rather takes the glory out of it.
Alert, instant obedience, that is what makes team work such a thrill.
May none of us have to hang our head on That Day because we were not ready to obey!
Chapter Six gave a glimpse of the Abyss and its Master. This chapter has shown the Nestling and how it cuddles down into Shelter of the Cleft of the Rock, when that Shelter is pointed out to its bewildered ignorance. The dangers of legalism are best combated by teaching "the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified" (Acts xx. 32).
The stiff Wind of Legalism—it blows in the West too.
Christians sink so easily into thinking that to follow Christ is just a set of do's and don'ts. Our R.S.B.S. students carried the message of grace everywhere over the mountains. John could only be physically in one village at a time, but through the R.S.B.S. students, the message was preached in ten or twenty different villages on the same Sunday. And throughout the whole year, all over the field, the students continued to preach grace and tried to point out legalism. Quietly, sweetly, the transformation came about. Not that the church was now perfect—far from it; for that Wind also seems to blow where and when it listeth—but the trained evangelists and the whole deacon body changed in their attitude, from set laws for set offences, to consideration of each case on its separate deserts. And throughout, striving to get the mind of Christ on each matter.
As you paged through the story of the Seedling Patch, have you sensed what a privilege it was, to be a participant in God's work there? And as you continue to read, and see how farreaching the lives of some of those humble, barefoot laddies became, do you not think that to lay before them God's full
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
plan of salvation is a great joy, a worthwhile use of one's life?
One furlough I met a lady who said to me, "I have no interest in anything but my house and my garden. My house and my « garden are my life." I thought how pitifully poor she had confessed herself to be; even though hers was a large expensive home and mine a mere shanty on the wild mountainside. For in imagination, I saw the uplifted faces of our Hephzibah classroom; thought quickly through the years of study and companionship with them; saw the dull empty look of ignorance change into that of shining radiant possession. And my heart cried out, What a waste! for her to spend that human life and sympathies on a wooden house and a dirt garden, when God's spiritual house is calling out for living stones and His garden has Seedlings of Eternal Destiny that need to be trained! But the West is full of human beings (church-goers, many of them) who live just for things. When that lady dies, she must leave behind her house and her garden—everything that spells life to her by her own confession. When I die, I know I shall see again my "living stones"; and I shall comrade with my precious Seedlings throughout eternity.
The angels from their home on high Look down on us with pitying eye, That where we are but passing guests, We build such strong and solid nests; While where we hope to dwell for aye, We scarce take heed one stone to lay.
Unknown.
A Thief Who Laboured to Give to Others « he "Let him... steal no more"
EPH. Iv. 28
Youth, O Youth, can I reach you, Can I speak and make you hear, Can I open your eyes to see Me, Can My presence draw you near?
Is there a prophet among you, One with a heart to know?
I will flash My secrets on him, He shall watch My glory grow.
For I, the God, the Father, The Quest, the final Goal, Still search for a prophet among you To speak My word in his soul.
And He does reach them; conquer them; captivates them until they yield to Him that valiant and glorious self-abandonment which belongs so markedly to youth. ys The big noon service had finished and I hastened down to House of Grace to get behind the dispensary table.
The Lisu come to the Sunday noon service from many miles around, and so it is an opportunity to get medicine for their sick ones. As I measured out ointment and pills I was conscious that Luke and another were hanging around in the background of the crowd. At length, the last medicine-seeker satisfied, I turned to see what was wanted. j ""Ma-Pa and Ma-Ma," said Luke briskly. "This fellow wants to confess his sins!" Then, turning to the young man, he added,
"Now go ahead."
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
The repentant sinner was not an attractive Lisu. He had stubby hair and a hang-dog, on-the-defensive manner. This was all the more emphasized at the present moment by the embarrassment of his situation. But, pulling himself together, in a low guttural voice, he began.
""Ma-Pa, Ma-Ma, I have sinned against you. The second Christmas you were here, I came to the festival to see what it was like. But I wasn't born again then, and .
. ."' Here it was hard going, but he straightened up and went on doggedly: "I saw a pretty bag hanging on your wall and I stole it. I want to be a Christian now, a born-again one, and I wronged you in something else too. I got some medicine from you once, and instead of returning the bottle to you, I sold it, and kept the money. Here is the price of it and I will pay you for the bag when
I can get the money, later on.'"' And he put a half-dollar in my hand, his feet shuffling nervously and his face sad and ashamed.
"Well, friend," we replied, "we are glad to see that the Holy Spirit has been working in your heart. When you start in to follow the Lord Jesus, it is good to clean up your past as much as you are able. So we shall accept this money. But this is what is called "conscience money' and we do not keep such ourselves.
We do not exhort you to repentance in order to get things back from you." So, putting the money in Luke's hand, "We shall give this to the Lisu church. And we hope you will study God's
Word so that you may grow spiritually. Where do you live?"
"At Squirrel's Grave Village," Luke replied for him. "Across the river there!"' and he pointed west through our open doorway.
"Well, you talk with him, Luke," we suggested, for Sundays always saw many Lisu wishing to consult with us on different problems, and we could not spare much time to any one person.
Later this boy was named Gad, so we shall just cail him that from now on.
A few weeks later I was pleased and surprised to hear that Gad had gone off on a preaching trip with Jonah! The latter needed a companion, and the self-confessing thief offered to accompany him (and incidentally get lessons in reading and writing), and so it was arranged. Gad carried Jonah's load and
A THIEF WHO LABOURED TO GIVE TO OTHERS
helped in small ways, and in his spare time pored over his scripture portions.
Each April, before R.S.B.S. began, we called in the evangelists for a week's Bible study, and to hear reports of their work. When
Jonah arrived, lo and behold Gad was with him, and in his customary shamefaced manner asked to be allowed to study too.
He appeared very dense in class, and I would have regarded him as hopeless ?f it had not been for his industry. Being new he was very slow at writing and copying the Bible notes we gave, but after classes, when the other students rushed off to the athletic field, day after day, Gad was to be found sitting before the blackboard laboriously copying all the notes he could find.
Once I reprimanded him, "'Gad, it is recreation time now. You ought to be down on the playground with the other students.
You'll get too tired writing for such long hours at a time."
He looked up at me. "Ma-Ma, please let me finish. I'm slow _ because I'm new, you know." I had not the heart to discipline him for it. The willingness to labour hard in learning the Word of God is not very common. I dared not quench it. So I left him to copy, and copy, and copy until long after dusk had fallen.
In all Bible schools, even shorter ones, we endeavour to have one class a day in practice preaching (Homiletics being too high a name for the results!) and my husband and I have never forgotten Gad's first attempt at a sermon. He was such a babe in things spiritual that he really had nothing much to say, and embarrassment drove out any idea that he might otherwise have had. But we must all begin some time, so we would not excuse him, though he begged we would.
"All of us here know that you are a new believer and have not had time to learn much, but get up and try, anyway."
So, with his hang-dog look and deep guttural voice, Gad rose to his feet and tried. A most painfully boring succession of platitudes followed. He was, like other beginners, trying to remember what his Lisu teacher had last preached, and reproduce it. The result was incoherent and unconnected, but every now and then his fact lit up and looking at us earnestly he would say, "And we must not sin! We just mustn't sin." That far his face was filled with inspiration, but at the next step, panicky at his empty
NESTS ABOVE THE ABYSS
thoughts, he would make a desperate grab after memory and scramble on with more muttered platitudes, only to bring up again the one fact that he was sure of. "We must not sin! We must not sin," he would say again with that earnestness in his face. As a sermon it was ridiculous; but at least the one thought that was his own, he had driven home.
"Well," was our judgment upon it, "Gad has evidently learned one important thing, and that is, that sin comes between man and God. And that if man wants fellowship with the Father, he must first deal with the sin question. He was not able to put it so clearly, but he left that feeling with each of us, did he not?
So, as a first attempt, his sermon is not a total failure! Now learn one thing from this. The part of God's message which will be most potent from your lips is that which comes from your own personal experience of it. Gad has learned what sin can do, and his earnestness on that point was a blessing. It is always so. What has blessed our own hearts is sure to have a message for others."
For he that serves his Lord, must holy be, And he that labours must be free from guile,
And he that sows be filled with purity; And he that speaks the message of the Word
Must first receive the fulness of the Lord.
M. B. Whiting.
Gad flushed with pleasure, for he had expected the worst, in criticism, and nothing but the worst. And I think everyone else had too, so it was a good thing for all.
At the end of that week, when we were discussing where each evangelist should go until R.S.B.S. brought them back to us again, Junia spoke up, ""Ma-Pa, may Gad go with me? He says he'd like to!"" I turned then and really looked at Gad. Could it be possible that one so shortly out of sin had a secret hope to become a preacher of the gospel? Though he would not dare voice it, so early, that hope evidently was already in his heart, and at the close of the week he and Junia trotted off happily together.
June, 1939, circular tells this part of the story:
Earlier in the afternoon Junia and Gad had arrived—the latter with
A THIEF WHO LABOURED TO GIVE TO OTHERS
I7I the mumps! They were merely on their way to teach the new inquirers at Squirrel's Grave. Gad looked so funny with his great swollen jowls, but he never thought of stopping work as long as he could speak (for, of course, he had no knowledge of infection until we told him).
Squirrel's Grave was his home, but he meant to testify there; he could read and write now and thus teach others. And this was typical of Gad.
In His Name who, meek and lowly, nit:
Died to make poor sinners holy, Stumbling oft and creeping slowly, Great Lord Guide me by Thy truth, O Lord.
A few weeks later:
Titus, Jonah, Gad and Junia arrived last Saturday night and all are busy to-day getting a schoolroom built—last year we met in a part of the church but it was most inconvenient, so this year a school house, or rather bamboo Bible school is going up—the first Bible school building
' the Lisu have ever built, at least in these parts.
Later: We have a brand new building this year, with seating accommodation for thirty and it has been filled so far. It is nice to have room enough to go around and inspect their work. This was' not possible last year. Our Bible school building is named "Hephzibah" and I suppose it is the poorest little Hephzibah in the world—just bamboo mats for walls, bamboo mats for roof, and earth for floor. It has no need of windows, for mats do not reach to the roof, and it possesses no door— everything is nice and airy. The "desks" are crude slabs of rough wood held up by tree boughs driven into the earth, so they don't wobble!
I love it. Its poverty does not worry me in the least—in fact I have been thanking God these last few months for the privilege of being asked to minister among the poor. If their lives were not so drab and ugly, so toilworn and uninteresting, Jesus and His messengers might not mean so much to them.
And now we must leave Gad starting in with his real book work, to trace a development which was later to affect Gad himself.
We must go back to the-end of our first Rainy Season Bible School, and let us watch how God began, almost immediately, to use this study of His Word not only to tell the Lisu tribe, but also to reach out toward other parts of the country where His
Name was not yet known.
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Two weeks' journey to the east of us (over the high Mekong mountain range, and a sea of other mountains to the far-away, famous gorge of the Yangtse River) lay a great unopened tribal territory which we called Yongpeh. At the close of our first
R.S.B.S. in 1938, a letter from Mr. Andrews, a missionary labouring near Yongpeh, reached us. The circular of January,
1939, tells of it.
Some time ago we received a request from a missionary north of Tali, asking for evangelists to be sent to him, as he felt there were Lisu in his neighbourhood who would respond if appealed to in their own language, and he wished to start a Lisu work there. Our beloved superintendent wrote us, in almost his last letter, saying he hoped the church would give heed to this request from another mission, and so we laid it before them as a solemn trust from the one who has gone to heaven. They replied by sending Aristarchus and one other younger
Christian named Secundus. We have requested that they be sent back to us by June, so as to continue their studies in the Rainy Season Bible
School.
The next month's letter contains a report from the two young evangelists themselves.
They spent twelve days in arduous overland mountain travel in order to reach their base of operations. Part of Aristarchus' first letter here reads something as follows:
Sometimes we walked up into the night, and other times we were on the road at the cock's crow. We were tired and cold and my partner almost cried. And just now they are pressing men into the army. For this cause, while we were on the march an army officer told us to become soldiers. But we answered them that we did not care to be soldiers.
We were bound for the country of Lichiang, where the Pastor lives.
However, the officers nearly forced us into the Army. On the other hand, God did not allow them to touch us, neither were the two of us given into their hands. Exceeding and unending thanks to God! This little experience, however, is not worth mentioning as suffering.
The writer is a Christian,
ARISTARCHUS.
April, 1939, brought us the following report from the two.
Yongpeh City.
To the Christians in the church of Oak Flat:
To the church at Oak Flat which we love and wish mutually to