GEOG TAPA.
DEACON MURAD KHAN IN 1846.--PENTECOSTAL SABBATH IN 1849.--MEETINGS IN
1850 AND 1854.--EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL OF YONAN IN 1858.
The village of Geog Tapa is so prominent, and has been so largely
blessed, that, though there is not room for a continuous account of the
work in that place, we here give a glimpse of its progress in different
years.
Deacon Murad Khan, one of the assistants in the Seminary, and a native
of the place, spent some Sabbaths there in May, 1846. He took turns
with the other native teacher in this, going Saturday, and returning on
Monday. He tells us that, after morning prayers in the church, pious
men met together to pray for a blessing on the day; twelve of their
number then went to labor in other villages, the rest remaining to work
at home. Passing through a vineyard, he found hidden among the vines a
youth setting home gospel truth to a group of others about his own age.
At their request, he expounded the parable of the ten virgins to them
till it was time for forenoon service; then they separated, to spend a
few moments in private devotion before entering the church.
In 1849, the pious men of the village divided it into districts, and
visited from house to house for religious conversation and prayer.
Meetings were held daily, and well attended. The most abandoned persons
were hopefully converted. Crimes committed twenty-five years before
were confessed, and restitution made. One Sabbath in February, Mr.
Stocking and Mar Yohanan found a large assembly in the house of Mar
Elias, listening to an exhortation from Priest Abraham. Mar Yohanan,
who had not been there since his conversion a little while before, was
then called on, and spoke of himself as the chief of sinners, having
led more souls to destruction than any other of his people, and being
all covered with their blood. In regard to his flock he said, the
fattest he had eaten, the poorest he had cast away, the lame and the
sick he had neglected. He begged them no longer to look to their
bishops for salvation, but to repent at once and turn to God. Priest
Abraham, then recently awakened, also made a humble confession of his
sins as their priest, and besought them, one and all, to attend to the
salvation of their souls.
In the afternoon, the church was crowded, and a number, unable to gain
admission, retired to a school room, where a meeting was conducted by a
member of the Male Seminary. In the church, they sung the hymn, "Come,
Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove." Mar Yohanan offered prayer, and Mr.
Stocking preached from the text, "Now, then, we are ambassadors for
Christ," and produced a very deep impression, which was increased by
short addresses from the bishop and others. This was known afterwards
by the name of the Pentecostal Sabbath.
In 1850, those previously renewed gained new light, and those whose
piety was doubtful--to use Deacon John's broken English,-were "very
much firmed." Miss Fiske and Miss Rice spent a day in the village,
after the close of their spring term, and had delightful intercourse
with about twenty women hopefully pious, and many more inquirers. In
the evening, supper was hurried through, and men, women, and children
hastened to the house of the pastor. Mr. Stocking preached there to a
crowded assembly of men, while the teachers adjourned to a neighboring
house, to meet with the women. Their hearts were full at meeting so
many for whom they had alternately hoped and feared, now sitting in
heavenly places in Christ Jesus; they remembered seeing their first
penitential tears, and could hardly restrain their own for joy. The
house was full, and in a silence interrupted only by stifled sobs, they
communed together concerning Jesus and his grace. It seemed as though
God perfected praise that night out of the mouths of babes, by keeping
them perfectly still in their mothers' aims; and as the pupils of the
Seminary belonging to the village, in their prayers, laid mothers,
sisters, and friends at the feet of Jesus, the place seemed near to
heaven. Next day, about one hundred and fifty attended another meeting,
and it was with difficulty the teachers could tear themselves away. One
of the pious mothers could not bear to have her daughter, recently
converted in the Seminary, leave her sight; and more than once a day
they bowed together at the throne of grace. When this mother met Miss
Fiske her feelings were so intense she could only say, "Thank God,"
over and over, and weep. Her husband was moved by his child's anxiety
for his salvation. Once, when she urged him to pray, he replied, "I
cannot; but you may pray for me." She at once knelt and interceded for
him, with many tears. The gray-headed man knelt also, deeply moved, and
tears flowed from eyes not used to weep. When she ceased praying, she
rose; but his strength was gone; he could not rise. Yet the love of the
world was strong within him, and it is to be feared that he resisted
the Holy Ghost.
In 1854, Miss Fiske found about sixty families maintaining family
prayer, and hardly a family in which there was not some one that seemed
to be a true disciple. John held a prayer meeting Sabbath morning with
those whom he sent out, two and two, to preach in the neighboring
villages, and in the evening they reported what they had done. Sabbath
school commenced about nine o'clock, and before it opened, almost all
were reading or listening to those that read; and then the school
continued in session two hours, without a sign of weariness. The number
wishing to learn to read was so large that it was difficult to provide
for them. Men came begging good teachers for their wives, and women
came pleading for spelling books for their husbands. After school, at
their own request, Miss Fiske met twenty-one girls, who had been
members of her school (twenty of them now teachers in the Sabbath
school), and gave them a word of counsel and encouragement in their
work. At the close of afternoon service, the women who could read staid
with her till near sunset, they never so thankful before, and she never
more thankful to be with them.
The next glimpse we take of Geog Tapa shall be from a native
standpoint. A young man of the village, possessed of more than ordinary
abilities, was early taken into the Male Seminary. His influence over
the rest was so great, and so decidedly opposed to religion, that he
was about to be sent away, when grace made him the first fruit of the
revival in 1846. Yonan (for that is his name) was a teacher in the
Female Seminary from 1848 till 1858, and, as he was generally
accustomed to spend his Sabbaths in his native village, on Monday
morning he handed in to Miss Fiske a written report of the labors of
the previous day; and from, these we now give some extracts:--
"_January 17th_, 1858. I had a pleasant time in morning family prayer,
at which several young persons were present. The Sabbath school was
followed by a meeting, at the close of which I returned to my room with
four young men. I talked with them about two hours, first about coming
to church,--for they attend only occasionally,--and in this they
promised to do better. I then questioned until I reached their inmost
souls. I asked one, 'What is the distance between you and God?' 'My
teacher, there is a very great distance between us.' 'Is it God's
fault, or yours?' 'It is mine.' I then looked on another, noted for his
wickedness, and said, 'Beloved, did not Christ come for you? His
stripes, his anguish, his crucifixion,--were they not for you? Why,
then, treat him so ill? Has he left the least thing undone for you?' He
admitted the truth, but seemed like a rock. At length I said to them,
'Now, Satan has provided something or somebody outside the door, to
drive these thoughts from your hearts.' One replied, 'True, Satan has
let down all the nets of the Sea of Ardishai[1] for us.' I prayed for
them, and they left me, serious. Then I prayed for them alone. Soon my
little sister Raheel came in, who is under Papal influence. I talked
with her about prayer to the saints, and opened to the ten
commandments, and began to read; but she did not want to hear. My heart
yearned over my poor sister, and I prayed with her. [Footnote 1: Lake
of Oroomiah.]
"Moses preached in the afternoon about Achan, and after that I had my
usual meeting with the pious women. Guly returned with me for
conversation. I think she is a blessed Christian. She labors and prays
with two of her companions. She told how her cousin ridiculed her, and
I encouraged her to go forward, but said, 'If all the world think you a
Christian, don't rest till you can say, 'I know in whom I have
believed."' We prayed together, and O, what a prayer she offered!
Deacon Siyad led the evening meeting.
"_January 24th_. After morning service, I took Baba Khan and Guwergis
to my room. The first I had labored with last year, and thought him
interested. His wife fears God, and has often asked me to talk with
him. He is seldom absent from church or prayer meeting, and often goes
out with our young men when they preach. This was my thought in talking
with him: 'Near the kingdom, but not in it.' I earnestly pressed these
questions: What do you think of yourself? What is your dependence for
salvation? Have you repented? In short, on which side are you? He was
troubled; tears ran down his cheeks, and for a time he made no reply.
At last he said, 'I cannot tell.' A companion began to answer for him,
with the confidence of ignorance, judging Christians and finding holes
in the coats of the righteous: 'Who knows whether a man is a Christian?
God alone.' I said, 'Are there any Christians in our village?' 'Yes.'
'Then you know some as Christians?' His words were many, while Baba
Khan's were few. My father here came in, but I prayed with them all,
and then went to church, where I preached from the words, 'And thou
mourn at the last.'
"To-day I conversed with Sadee. I found her in the habit of praying
with her sisters in Christ one by one. I advised her to try and lead
some of her unconverted neighbors to Christ by her labors and prayers.
She promised to do so. We spent more than an hour speaking the language
of Canaan, and then knelt at the feet of the Saviour whom we love. She
prayed, spreading out her hands to heaven, as I think the early saints
used to do; and it seemed as though God would fill us with blessing in
answer to that prayer. She left me alone, and thanking God for these
blessed opportunities to labor.
"_January 31st_. After meeting, conversed with Munny, daughter of
Mukdesseh. It was profitable to talk with her. She said that her
sainted mother used to say, "When, my heart is cold, I go to Christ,
and never rise from my knees till he warms it." She has some hope for
her husband, and also fear, since he does not forsake wine. She told of
a woman for whom she had prayed and labored five or six years, and
promised to do so with others. O, what a sweet savor of piety did I
receive from her! If we had many such mothers in Geog Tapa how changed
it would be! I cannot write all our pleasant words; they remain for
eternity.
"_February 7th_. I took home from Sabbath school two young men, for
whom I have fears because they drink too much wine. I talked long with
them, not as though I would take a pledge from them, or that it is a
sin ever to drink at all, for I thought this would not be profitable;
but I asked them questions, that they might themselves distinguish what
is right; as, 'Does wine make you to sin?' They owned that it did.
Their hearts seemed won to the right, but the work is the Lord's. May
he save them from this temptation.
"In the afternoon, I began to talk with Sanum without feeling, but
ended in tears. I did not ask questions, but carefully explained the
difficulties and the fight of faith, also the special grace of God to
his people. When I said to her, 'I want you to enlarge your heart, and
take in one more besides the two women whom you now labor with,' she
selected a very ignorant one. I am afraid that I do differently,
seeking rather an easy work.
"_February 22d_. This afternoon I sent for Nargis. I had never thought
of her as a Christian, but I found that I was greatly mistaken. It is
all my own fault. I had seldom met her, and never prayed with her. I
commenced: 'Do you think yourself a Christian?' 'I do.' 'How long have
you thought so?' 'About eight years.' 'How is it that I have not known
it?' 'Yakob was my pastor, and since he left I have had none.' Then she
told of her awakening, and sufferings for Christ's sake, between her
betrothal and her marriage. 'I used to go to evening meetings with
Yakob, and on my return my uncle would take me by the braids of my hair
and throw me on the ground, saying, "You go because there are young men
there." Sometimes I found the door barred against me; then I went to a
neighbor's to lodge, or oftener to the stable, and slept in a manger;
but I was never afraid, for Christ was with me: for a time my betrothed
wished to put me away. It was then I found Christ, and I have never
forsaken him since.' She is now poor and in distress. She attends
church and Sabbath school, but cannot go to evening meeting, as her two
little children keep her at home. She lamented this, not thinking that
she could serve Christ in the care of these little ones. I told her, 'I
preach that prayer and the care of children are equally a duty.' She
was greatly comforted: these words seemed like oil poured into the
flickering lamp. I gave her the 'Green Pastures,' and prayed with her.
I have great confidence in her piety.
"On Friday forenoon, I saw Martha, the wife of Eshoo. I trust she has
grace in her heart; and her husband hopes that he is a Christian, but
looks after her more than himself. She sees him not doing right, and
tells him in love; he is not pleased. Still, she thinks him a
Christian. She wished I would talk to them together, that their path
might be one. I told her I did not think it best that she should talk
much to him, but be very quiet, pray for him, be obedient to him, and
hope to win him by her chaste conversation coupled with fear. She
received my words well.
"_February 28th._ I talked with Moressa. We hoped, seven or eight years
ago, that she was a Christian; but her husband soon prevented her
attending meeting, and so she remained, till lately she came to church
again. I did not know that one of the sisters in Christ had prayed
regularly with her all this while, but supposed that she had gone back
to her dead forms, and that God moved me to call her to repentance. But
I found her trusting that she had been set in Christ's breastplate, the
light of which can never go out. I said, 'Do you think you love the
Saviour?' 'Yes, as the apple of my eye.' 'Are you sure that you have
not forsaken him in all these years?' 'I have been very sinful all the
time, but do not think I have taken my hand from Christ.' My heart was
now drawn towards her. I said, 'Moressa, forgive me. I have been an
unfaithful shepherd. I have not once searched for you. I confess my
faults.' 'I have faults. I have been a wandering sheep, forsaking the
fold.' 'Have you kept up secret prayer during all these years?' 'I
have.' I found that she had learned to read at home, and I gave her a
Testament. I have a good hope for her; but how negligent I have been!
There may be many Christians unknown."
These extracts might be extended; but enough have been given to
illustrate the inner workings of Nestorian piety, and the labors of
those so appropriately called "native helpers." It was such men that
Paul called his helpers in Christ Jesus.
The women of Geog Tapa, in a letter to Miss Fiske, written Feb. 1861,
thanking her for her labors among them, say, "We often think, What are
we more than the women of other nations, that we should have such
heavenly blessings? and are ready to cry, Blessed is the dust of the
land that sends forth such good news, and makes known the way of life
to the world." They add, that at their last communion more than eighty
souls sat down at the Lord's table; and it seemed as if He who sitteth
between the cherubim was present in the church.