THE MISSIONARY MEETING
It was early summer when the Women's Foreign Missionary Society of Doctor
Schoolman's church was to have a public meeting. On Sunday the faithful
calendar announced it, and Doctor Schoolman made special mention of it,
urging attendance. A missionary home on furlough was to exercise a part
of his "well-earned rest" in addressing the meeting. It was to be held
in the afternoon, but it was suggested that as many men of the
congregation as possible unite with the ladies in giving welcome to one
who had distinguished himself by faithful and valuable service on the
foreign field.
The announcement was discussed in the Gray household and Hubert
determined to join Winifred in attendance.
"Not that I believe much in it," he said, "when here all about us, and
especially in our large cities, there are plenty of objects for our
commiseration quite as wretched, undoubtedly, as those in foreign
countries."
"No doubt," said Winifred. "It always seemed to me to be looking rather
far afield for something to do."
However, the two determined to hear the voice from China.
Wednesday, the day for the meeting, came, and Hubert left work in time to
join Winifred on her way. They found the lecture-room of the church
rather better filled than was usual at a missionary meeting, but only a
few gentlemen were present. Winifred had time to observe some of the
faces about her before the meeting began. She knew the Secretary, a
woman with a keen, earnest face, always active in good works, and
indefatigable in her efforts to excite a generally indifferent church
into some glow of interest in the missionary cause. There were a few
other faces as interested as her own. Hubert saw the plain little body
he had singled out at the church social as one who perhaps would find it
a pleasure to talk about the Lord. Her eyes looked expectantly toward
the quiet looking man who came in with Doctor Schoolman.
The President, rather new to her office, fingered her jeweled watch-chain
nervously as she opened the meeting. The company sang "From Greenland's
Icy Mountains," and Doctor Schoolman offered prayer. The Secretary read
the minutes of the previous meeting--a "Thank-offering meeting"--and it
was discovered that the sum of $90 had been realized. The ladies
exchanged glances of satisfaction at the amount.
"Hm-m! Their combined thanks foot up to that," thought Hubert. He was a
business man and must be forgiven such a practical view of the case.
"The Lord must be gratified!"
"I feel, ladies," said the President, pushing a diamond ring up and down
upon her finger anxiously, "very much pleased that our poor gifts have
amounted to so much. We cannot all do what we would, but we may give our
mites, and together they will count for something in the work. We cannot
tell what these ninety dollars may mean to the heathen."
"Their mites!" thought Hubert, with something of his old-time irony. He
was freshly instructed on the subject of money, and knew well the story
of the widows' mites. "If Mrs. Greenman herself had given the ninety
dollars, I should think she was beginning to feel a tinge of gratitude
for something."
Winifred had fastened her brown eyes musingly upon the President. She
was wondering if money might express thanks, and, if so, how much would
appropriately suggest her own gratitude to God for His "unspeakable gift."
"No gift would be large enough," she thought, and then the familiar lines
came to her mind:
"Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all."
"How true that is," she thought. "But I suppose it is nice to give some
token, even though one cannot adequately express one's thanks."
There were some other reports and then the leading alto from the choir
sang:
"There is a green hill far away."
"I am sure we are all glad," said the President, "to have with us Mr.
Hugh Carew from China, who has labored for years among the heathen there.
We shall be pleased to hear him tell us something of his work."
And Mr. Hugh Carew began. He was a man uninteresting to look upon, save
that his face wore a certain indefinable expression of a man who has been
a stranger in many places; a man habituated to loneliness and to silence.
But he was evidently a man also accustomed to speak, for he addressed his
audience with easy grace.
"The pleasure is mine," he said, "in being able to present to your
interest and sympathy the dearest object of the heart of God."
Hubert started to hear the man's work, as he thought, thus spoken of.
Mr. Carew went on:
"Of course I refer not to my simple share in it, but to God's great work
of salvation in all lands."
"Ah, that is what he means," thought Hubert, and repeated to
himself--"the dearest object of God's heart!"
"You may question my definition of that work," said Mr. Carew, "but a
moment's reflection will convince you that it is true. We may measure
the object's value by the price expended for it. For what other than the
dearest object would God have been willing to give His most priceless
treasure--the Son of His love? You will pardon my giving some attention
to the fundamental facts of our common salvation before speaking
specifically of the work in which I have had a part for some years in
China. My apology is this: that wherever the returned missionary goes,
even among God's people, he finds himself obliged to defend his work to
some who regard it as an impractical and self-devised effort at doing
good, rather than the simple carrying out of the expressed will of God.
We have to go back to first principles and inquire afresh: '_What is the
will of God_?'"
"That sounds sensible," thought Hubert, who loved to hear vital
principles discussed.
"Some very simple, well-worn texts will serve for our brief study," said
Mr. Carew. "First there is that comprehensive passage, familiarly known
and quoted in all evangelical circles: '_For God so loved the world that
He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not
perish, but have everlasting life_.' The words that I wish to emphasize
especially are two:--'_the world_.' They show you the scope of God's
love and gift. He loved 'the world,' not some favored race within it.
And love, which cannot rest inactive, _gave_; gave according to its own
measure--'His only begotten Son.' We cannot be otherwise than agreed
that this love and this gift were for all, and so must include my poor
China. Indeed, could you divide God's love arithmetically (it is a
foolish way to put it--you cannot divide infinity!) then my friends over
there might claim about one-fifth of it, I suppose, as they number about
that proportion of the world's population."
The ladies smiled indulgently at the curious way of putting it, but were
not yet persuaded in their hearts that so considerable a portion of the
love of God could be diverted from their own delightfully engrossing
race, not to China alone, but to other peoples also, as would follow by
that kind of arithmetic. Let the missionary talk. It would still be as
obvious to their consciousness as the glittering pompon on Mrs.
Greenman's bonnet that themselves were the consistent and natural
monopolists of the favor of their Creator!
But Mr. Carew went on: "We may find our two very illuminating little
words in another text almost equally familiar. It is this: '_Behold the
Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world_.' This lets us
farther into God's attitude and purpose concerning 'the world.' Loving
all His creatures, He still saw that they were involved in ruin brought
on by sin. If He brought them to Himself--the only event that could
satisfy love--it must be by a great and costly Redemption. One emanating
from Himself must be projected into the ruin and death of the world and
come back to Him, spotless and unsullied, bringing with Him 'many sons'
unto the glory. But He must purge their sins. So He gave Him to be a
Lamb of sacrifice; that He taking the sins of the world upon Him, might
work in Himself a death unto sin that should be made good to all that
become united to Him. Potentially, then, the sin of '_the world_' is
taken away. If we wish to support further this point in our study
concerning 'the world' we may turn to Paul and hear, 'God was in Christ,
reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto
them.' Or the Apostle John will tell us that 'He is the propitiation for
our sins; and not for ours only, but also for the sins of _the whole
world_.'
"Now that we have reminded ourselves of the love, and of the gift
embracing redemption, it occurs to us to ask how are our poor brothers in
China to avail themselves of the gift or to hear of the love. Another
well-known test, containing our two words again, tells us very clearly.
It offers the only logical answer to the question, and it is this: '_Go
ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature_.' Love
has devised its gift and prepared it at unspeakable cost, and now
commands our feet that we may bear it to all habitable parts of the
earth. Wherever the objects of God's love are, there the gift must be
borne. Do we not all see that the work which we call 'Foreign Missions'
is in the direct, simple carrying out of the purpose of God, bearing the
knowledge of the gift to all for whom it is intended, that they may avail
themselves of it? What object could be dearer to the heart of God? What
He has Himself done shows us of what moment the matter is to Him. How
can we ever excuse ourselves that it has been a matter of such
indifference to us? He has limited Himself to human instruments for the
carrying to the lips of dying ones whom He loves the water from the
smitten Rock, and how have we responded? Are we indeed His sons and
daughters, that His supreme wish should be our last concern?"
The speaker's eyes had deepened in color as he spoke. Now they burned
with intense feeling. His long, tenacious hands were clenched
repressively. He went on:
"I imagine I hear an objection that the same work is being done at home,
and that there is ample field here still. We may not trust our own
understanding to argue the case as to the value of confining our efforts
to the home field, but let the Scriptures, always ready to instruct us,
give us light. Probably we will agree that Paul, the apostle-missionary,
is in his life an exponent of the theory of Gospel preaching. He had an
ambition. Hear how he expresses it: 'Yea, being ambitious so to preach
the Gospel, _not where Christ was already named_, that I might not build
upon another man's foundation; but, as it is written
"'They shall see, to whom no tidings of him came,
And they who have not heard shall understand.'
"He shows his Roman readers his method; telling them that from Jerusalem
unto Illyricum (just across the Adriatic Sea from Italy) he had 'fully
preached the Gospel of Christ.' Now he was ready to look farther, his
task to those regions being accomplished. What did he mean? Was he
leaving behind him converted areas, whose every inhabitant magnified God
in Christ Jesus? Far from it. 'Fully preached' though he had,
communities were still heathen, but for the lights that he had kindled
from place to place in his persecuted journeyings. Remembering that he
is in his life the model for Gospel preaching, as he is in his writings
the messenger of Christian doctrine, must we not see that the Gospel is
for _broadcast sowing_, not for close gardening, save by the careful
hands that God will raise up in the wake of the evangelist. Or, to use
another figure, it is the _notification, to lost heirs_, of a fortune
bequeathed them; and the responsibility of the ones entrusted with the
carrying out of the will is not so much to persuade heirs to receive
their inheritance as to notify them of it. So the Apostle preached 'not
where Christ was named,' having a zeal to discharge his debtorship of
making known to all nations God's gift of grace. Now over into
Spain--far, far afield, as distances then were gauged--the eager eyes of
the Apostle looked and longed for a crown of rejoicing from that land
also in the day of Christ. In him we see the faithful exposition of the
missionary idea."
By this time Hubert was looking at the speaker very intently, with
widened, almost startled, eyes that were opening to a new idea. Winifred
also sat with riveted gaze, her cheeks slightly paling beneath the
deepening conviction of a tremendous truth. True worshiper that she was,
to know the truth must be to shape her life in consonance with it, and a
voice at her heart gave warning that to be conformed to this newly
revealed will of God would be pain. But where was the theory that had
seemed so clear and sensible to both Hubert and herself when they came to
the meeting? Hubert always had clear ideas. What would he say to this?
Now Mr. Carew was saying:
"I have frequently heard it objected to foreign missions that there are
works of philanthropy still to be done here. The objection is absolutely
irrelevant. The work of missions is not an indefinite 'doing good.' It
is the bearing of a _specific good_ to those who have not received it.
It is not, _per se_, the bettering of temporal conditions. It is the
securing to those who believe its message the _best eternal conditions_.
It is not a matter of 'elevation'--it is a matter of translation. Not
into a bettered life, but into a _new_ life with an eternal outlook--into
a new realm altogether, and that divine--the Gospel we carry ushers its
believers! How would the poor, irrelevant argument I have quoted have
affected Paul? Looking across the sea to Spain, and to Rome by the way,
he was leaving behind him in Judea, in Asia--in all the region unto
Illyricum, hungry people still unfed and the naked still unclothed. Want
and misery still stretched out their hands to be relieved. But they
could not stay the feet of the Apostle. He had heard _the supreme call_!
God had a supreme gift to bestow; the world had a supreme need; and to
bring the need and the gift together was his absorbing, constraining
zeal. Would God it were ours also! Friends, my plea for China is not
for its temporal needs; it is not that its women's feet are bound, that
its men are opium-stupefied, or that it needs our Western ideas, as it is
waking from its Eastern way. It is this: _God has an unspeakable gift
for its people, and we must bear it to them_."
His tall figure was leaning forward and his burning eyes chanced to rest
fully upon Hubert. The latter started, and a half audible groan burst
from his lips. Was it the burden of a new motive, or the sudden smiting
of a chord he knew right well? The "unspeakable gift!" Yes, he knew it;
and its glory was ineffable beyond the highest earthly good he had known.
Happy the man under commission to bear such a treasure, though it be to
the uttermost parts of the earth! And the great Giver longed to bestow
it on the millions of His creatures, but waited the unwilling feet of His
messengers! It was heart-breaking! But was there no other way? Why
should an infinite God limit Himself to finite man in carrying out His
great design? Mr. Carew continued:
"You may ask why does God restrict Himself to the human instrument in
bearing the tidings, and _through the tidings the effective result_, of
the Redemption? I cannot tell you why, but I see that it is so. A light
from heaven may overpower a Saul of Tarsus, and he may hear words
straight from the ascended Christ. But a Christian _man_--Ananias--must
be sent to tell him how to wash away his sins, and to minister the Holy
Spirit to him. An angel may communicate with Cornelius, the Centurion,
but he stays his lips from uttering the Gospel of Christ. That privilege
is reserved for the _human_ lips of Peter. Is it not sufficient that the
Commander has said, 'Go _ye_'? Had the task been set for angels, it
would have been accomplished long since, for _they_ do His pleasure. But
He trusted it to us, who might be expected to be so bound by ties of
gratitude to His will that we would eagerly spring to do His bidding.
And we have miserably failed. 'Is there not another way?' we languidly
ask in the face of the command. I do not see another way. But the Lord
has most clearly outlined _this_ way: _That the Gospel should be preached
in all the world to every creature, and that the one who believes and is
baptized should be saved_. To sit and philosophically consider that an
infinite God must surely find some other way if we fail in this, is not
reverence for His wisdom. It is mutiny."
Some of the ladies looked startled at this bold setting forth of the
case, and remembered how, privately, they had given voice to the
sentiments under criticism before coming to the meeting. The Secretary's
keen face betrayed thorough assent to what the speaker was saying, and
the President was glad that she held such a relation as she did to a
cause so evidently right, with a reverse side so evidently wrong. The
plain little body of the Church Social beamed thorough sympathy.
"Do you say," continued Mr. Carew, "that God will be merciful to the
heathen because of their ignorance? I believe He will, and do not doubt
that it will be 'more tolerable' for those who have never heard than for
those in this country (heathen also, in the Scriptural sense) who, having
often heard, are still rejectors of the Gospel. But there is a greater
question involved than that of lessened stripes or mitigated woe. Do you
say that men will be _saved_ by lack of knowledge? The prophet said his
people _perished_ for lack of it! Ah, if God had ordained ignorance to
be the way of salvation He might have spared Himself great cost!--cost of
the redemption sacrifice, and of its proclamation, often in martyr blood.
But He confers His boon to faith and 'faith cometh by _hearing_.'
"You say it will increase the responsibility of the heathen if they hear,
and put them in worse case if they reject the message? Very true. But
had that been a sufficient reason it would have silenced our Lord's 'Go
ye' at the outset of the age. Never would the Gospel have traveled to
our barbaric fathers, and we should be without hope to-day. But the
treasure was too great which the Saviour sought. No thought of deeper
shadows cast by the very brightness of the light could deter Him from
holding it forth. Beyond all cost of difficulty, danger, or the deepened
condemnation of the lost, was the value of the Church He sought--the
pearl of great price for which all other possessions might be forfeited!
Ah, friends, since the object is so dear to Him, where are our hearts
that we think of it so coldly! The burden of my plea is _for Him_; not
for the missionary, not for philanthropy, not even so much for the
heathen themselves, as _for Him_, because He loves and longs to give but
lacks the human vessels through which to give!"
The speaker paused, and absently pushed back the hair from his flushed
forehead. An almost tragic yearning shone in his deepset eyes. There
was one in the congregation whose heart burned in a fellowship of grief
over the Saviour's unmet longing. Mr. Carew continued more slowly, in a
voice intensely sad and almost broken:
"Do you sometimes quote softly for _your_ comfort, 'I will guide thee
with mine eye'? You have thought of His eye upon you--and that is
right--to care for, protect and lead. But have you ever watched the
glance of His eye with another thought, not for yourself, but _for Him_?
Not to see in it provision and help for you; but to see to what He is
looking, for what He is longing--what it is that will give joy to Him?
When I look in His eyes," and the speaker was looking far away from his
congregation and spoke as though half forgetting them, "I seem to hear
Him saying, 'I have other sheep--I _must bring them_!'"
His voice sank to a whisper. Hubert felt a little convulsive movement
beside him and Winifred's hand was shading her eyes. Mr. Carew recovered
from the emotion that nearly mastered him, and remembered his hearers and
their probable wishes. He began again:
"But perhaps I am neglecting to tell you that which you came especially
to hear--some details concerning the actual work of God in China. You
will pardon me, but I cannot forbear speaking wherever I go concerning
the principles underlying our work, as well as of the work itself. One
might describe the people and their ways--and all that is valuable in
making them more real to us--and might present a score of curious things
which would perhaps beguile an hour very pleasantly, but still leave an
indifferent heart unchanged as to the real motive of missions. However,
all that I have said will gain and not lose by our turning attention for
a time to the practical outworking of the theory."
Then the speaker gave illustrations of the way lost souls are found in
China. Very pathetic were some of the incidents, and again and again
Winifred's eyes were dim, and an unspeakable pain gnawed at Hubert's
heart. Fervently he thanked God for those whose darkness He had turned
to light, but sad beyond expression seemed the repeated instances which
had occurred in Mr. Carew's experience of earnest pleadings for
missionaries to be sent to various places and his absolute inability to
answer the cry. But broader than the fact of the _wish_ of some stood
the _need_ of all! Populous cities without one witness to the grace of
God! Wide regions untraversed by the feet of His messengers! Hubert had
thought New Laodicea a place of desperate need; and so it was in the
matter of vital, fruit-bearing piety. But as he thought of the inky
darkness in which China's millions dwelt this seemed a place of light.
The meeting came to an end. But first the President expressed the thanks
of those who had listened to the lecture, and hoped all had been stirred
to greater zeal and effort for the future in helping so good a cause.
She suggested that the mite-boxes should be redistributed.
"'Mite-boxes!'" thought Hubert and squirmed in his seat impatiently.
Then an inward voice reproved him for his contempt of small things. He
thought of the poor that might deposit from time to time small coins that
meant much from their slender incomes. Yes, "mites" were all right, if
they were like the "widow's," and not the meager drippings from a selfish
superfluity. But suppose _he_ take a mite-box? How many of them would
be required to hold the hoarded, unnecessary, unused wealth at his
command? He could not insult the Lord and the "dearest object of His
heart" by an offering unworthy of his resources.
There was a pleasant buzz of voices at the close of the meeting and
nobody seemed to be going. Doctor Schoolman was shaking hands with Mr.
Carew. Doors were opened into the parlor and there was the fragrant odor
of a collation prepared. For the benevolences of New Laodicea were
nothing like certain reluctant pumps that will give nothing until they
have been given to. To whet an interest in such meetings as this, and to
cajole small sums from unwilling purses, it was found necessary to make a
gastronomic appeal.
Hubert and Winifred moved forward to personally express to the lecturer
their appreciation of his words. Doctor Schoolman greeted them warmly
and introduced them to him. Mr. Carew had noticed the two among his
hearers, and looked at them now with an unconsciously appealing glance.
His face was still flushed and the hand Hubert took was hot.
"You are not well," said the latter involuntarily.
"No," said Mr. Carew, rather absently, "I suppose not."
"I should not think this work you are doing would tend to recovery?"
"No, perhaps not," said the missionary.
Hubert looked at him inquiringly. "Then why do you do it?" he wished to
ask, but refrained.
Mr. Carew answered his questioning look.
"I am not to be pitied," he said with a smile, "even if I should not
recover as I hope to do. Some men are sick and die for pure folly's
sake, or for business. They are to be pitied. But if it were given a
man to be spent for Christ's sake--to know some faint shadow of suffering
for the same cause for which _He_ suffered as we never may--that man is
happy, I think."
"He is," said Hubert earnestly, "he is."
Mr. Carew was struck by the sincerity of Hubert's tones. He looked at
him with a searching, yearning expression; somewhat, it may be, as the
Lord Jesus looked on the rich young man and "loved him." Would this one
stand the test of love's requirement?
Some ladies were taking Winifred away to the parlors for refreshments,
and someone invited Mr. Carew and Hubert also. They both accepted with
the mutual wish to prolong the conversation. As they ate they talked of
the Living Bread which must be borne to men.
In the course of their conversation Hubert confessed: "You will be
astonished, but I have never before seen the matter as you presented it
to-day, and yet I have been a Christian for three years."
"A good many men have been Christians for many years, and yet have not
come to see the true motive of missions," said Mr. Carew. "It is
singular how the most fundamental principles may be most ignored; I
suppose somewhat as a man thinks less of the foundation stones of his
house than of what he finds inside it. But in spite of this if a man has
really a heart for God, when the matter is clearly presented to him he
responds to it. God's purpose must find an 'amen' in his heart."
"That is true," said Hubert.
Presently they left the parlor, still talking together earnestly of God's
will, and inadvertently drifted into the great auditorium. Mr. Carew
glanced about at its finished elegance.
"Perhaps," he said to Hubert, "they think _this_ instead, is doing the
will of God. I daresay they have read that the house Solomon builds for
God must be 'exceeding magnifical,' and they think so must this be. And,
indeed, the spiritual antitype of that house must be beautiful! It
'groweth into a holy temple in the Lord.' And the work of missions is
gathering its 'living stones.' But _this_--the New Testament breathes no
word of instruction concerning this material house! Ah, if I were to
write a general confession for our church I should say: 'We have left
undone the things we were told to do, and we have done the things we were
not told to do, and there is very little health in us!'"
Hubert smiled at Mr. Carew's words, but felt their force. He ventured to
remark: "This building does not look as though there were lack of money
among us."
"Oh, no!" said Mr. Carew. "Oh, no!" He repressed his lips, as though
fearing to say more than would be courteous. But presently he spoke
again in general terms.
"The church at home," he said, "has largely forgotten her pilgrim
character. She has put off her sandals, and loosened her robes for
luxurious living instead of girding them for service and pilgrimage. As
to display and indulgence at home, she says plainly, 'I am rich,' but as
to the carrying out the will of God entrusted to her for the world, she
is pitifully poor."
They were emerging from the stately auditorium, and Hubert bethought him
to look for Winifred. They met her in one of the rooms with Mrs.
Greenman.
"Oh, Mr. Carew," said the latter, "I was looking for you. Our ladies
appreciate so very much your talk to us! I hope--"
Winifred and Hubert were now speaking together and did not hear more of
the President's remarks. But before they left the place Hubert had
sought Mr. Carew again and had asked him to call at his office the
following day.
"I should like to talk with you further concerning your business," he
said.
He used the word "business" absent-mindedly, and Mr. Carew smiled, not at
all illy pleased with it. Hubert was thinking of an investment.