outpouring of the Spirit of God in these last days, and the soon coming
of Jesus, he wept like a child, and said he was ready for all God had for
him. When he returned to Chicago he would go to a Pentecostal mission, as
he knew this was the truth of God. He was a very sweet spirited man, open
to the Spirit of the Lord. He took with him many tracts on the Baptism of
the Spirit and the Second Coming of Jesus.
A young man, on his way to school in the States, asked for a Bible,
saying he had never seen one, but had a great desire to read one. Since
hearing us talk so much about it, he thought it must be a wonderful Book.
He took a Bible to school with him, also tracts and papers. He was a
native of Costa Rica.
As we were leaving the ship at New Orleans people came for more
Testaments and tracts to carry away with them. One brother and sister,
very wealthy people, traveling for pleasure, took many of the little
messengers, the sister saying that when she reached her home in Oklahoma
she was going to prepare herself for missionary work. She was tired of
the life she had been living, and having seen the awful need of the
Central American people, she could never be happy again until she went to
help them.
In New Orleans we gave out hundreds of tracts and found many hungry
souls. I visited some of the missions there, in search of Pentecostal
people, but they told us there were none there. Such a needy city! May
the God of Heaven stir our hearts until we are awakened and go forth
into every city of the Union with this message of the hour, and the
people are reached and the Holy Spirit is poured out upon the earth.
On board the train for St. Louis, we found many hungry hearts ready for
the truth, having never heard it before. In the Union Station, St. Louis,
we found others who were hungry. They took the tracts and went away
pleased to have them. Even in our own city we found people who were eager
to hear the Word of God. Many were the precious souls reached by the
Bread upon the waters, which we freely cast forth.
We traveled from Granite City, Illinois, to Los Angeles, California,
giving out tracts and Testaments. From Los Angeles we sailed to Central
America and gave out the Word in every port we came to in Mexico, Central
America and Panama. From Panama to New Orleans and Granite City we
distributed the Word to thousands. We look back over our journey and see
a long white line of Bread that was cast upon the waters, reaching our
home in Granite City, where also God is working.
“On the resurrection morning, when we rise to meet our Lord,
When His glory and His victory we shall share,
With un-numbered blood-washed millions we’ll go shouting
through the skies,
And His bride ascends to meet Him in the air.
“When the roll is called up yonder,
We’ll be filled with joy and wonder,
When we see the blood-washed number;
Some from every tribe and nation will be there.”
THE NEEDS OF CENTRAL AMERICA
There is a land not far away. It lies on our own continent. It is a land
of tropical beauty, where cocoanut palms wave their tall green branches
in the breeze, and where flowers bloom the year around. The banana,
pineapple, orange, and many other tropical trees and plants yield their
fruit in rich abundance. The chatter of innumerable parrots and the sweet
songs of many birds are heard from the great tall trees of the forests.
Scantily-clad brown-faced boys and girls run about. Seeing it, one is
made to say, “What a beautiful country!”
But, ah! As one advances inland, leaving the pretty harbor of Corinto, on
the Pacific coast, the signs of the enemy’s work are on man and beast.
There is desolation everywhere. The poor people are too weak to withstand
the strong rival with whom they have had to battle so long. Homes are
broken up. Mothers with their little children are crying for help. Their
cries are heard on every side. Powers of darkness sweep over the whole
country.
The poor are driven like animals to the plantations to work for a few
cents a day, not enough to sustain life. They are paid in advance for the
season’s work. The wage is so small the family soon spend it all. Then
they are arrested and made to work for what they have already received.
Even mothers are put into the coffee and banana fields to work in the
hot sun. On the poor tired women go with their babies strapped to their
backs all day long, with nothing to eat but a tortilla (a corn cake baked
without seasoning of any kind).
In the evening the poor tired people make their way to their little huts,
which are made of a few sticks driven into the ground and covered with
straw or palm leaves. There they grind corn for tortillas, the children
carrying water in little buckets made of gourds that grow on trees, or in
a jar made of clay. Their homes are as dirty as pig-pens, for the animals
live in the house with the family.
As you travel through the country you find the very poor, who live in
the mountains, far away from the cities, often whole families, without
clothes. If they wear anything at all, it will be a piece of cloth woven
from grass pinned around their bodies with a thorn, for they never saw
a pin or button. Many boys and girls fourteen or fifteen years old have
never worn clothes.
Both in the cities and in the country women are beasts of burden, for
the women or the donkeys furnish the transportation, the men do not work
much. The women work in the markets and little stores, and carry great
loads of sugar, fruit, water, etc., on their heads in the hot sun. The
streets are full of children that never were in school. They grow up to
be lazy, fight with each other, and steal. When you have one around who
is not saved you have to keep everything under lock and key.
More than two-thirds of the population are of illegitimate birth. Men and
women live together and raise families, yet are never married. One of the
difficult things the missionary has to do is see that they marry and live
clean lives.
The priests charge so much money to perform the ceremony that the poor
cannot pay it, so they live on year after year in this way; but they have
to pay so much to the priests every year to get them to forgive their
sin of adultery, in that way the Church of Rome gets more from them than
they would to marry them. The priests prey upon the superstitions of the
people to extract money from them at all points. The natives’ religion is
a mere form of outward exercises.
For over 400 years the whole of Mexico, Central and South America, as
well as the West Indies, have been under the heavy yoke of Romanism. The
Spaniards came into the country and, driving the natives at the point
of the sword, baptized them into the Roman Church, and took away their
language and liberty. They compelled them to carry timber and stone from
inland and build temples for the Roman Church.
[Illustration: I am just a brown-faced Indian girl, but I want to learn
to read God’s Word. Will you send missionaries to teach us? There are
thousands just as I am.]
In Leon, which is the largest city of the Republic of Nicaragua, and
where we have our work, there are between seventy and eighty thousand
people and forty-two temples. And when one sees those old temples almost
ready to tumble down, and covered with moss and grass centuries old,
one feels that Rome is certainly coming to the end of herself in these
countries. The people are rising up now and calling for schools, and for
freedom of the press, and are crying, “Away with the Church! It has never
done anything for us.” Many thousands are becoming free-thinkers.
Nicaragua is the only Republic of Central America that has Church and
State united. A great fight is now on for their separation. There are
over one million people in this Republic alone without the Gospel. Let
us pray God to speed the day when these reforms shall be wrought and the
Gospel be given the people.
Nicaragua saw her first missionary sixteen years ago. It has been the
last of the Republics to receive the Gospel. The persecutions were so
severe that the missionaries had to leave in a few weeks. But, thank God!
some of the people accepted the glad news and have stood true through
flood and flame. But there are very few missionaries there as yet, and
thousands are without the knowledge of a Savior who died for them.
All these countries are being flooded with New Thought, Russellism,
Christian Science, Theosophy, and Spiritualism. Many are coming into
these things now, for the people are fast turning from Romanism. They
are like little hungry birds with wide-open mouths ready to accept any
poisonous thing presented. Are we, the true followers of Jesus Christ,
going to sleep on and fail to wake up to this great opportunity? Let us
go forth with the old-time Gospel of Pentecostal power, that will drive
the enemy from the land, and give these dear people the truth.
At one place where we were having meetings the people asked us why
missionaries had not come to them before. They said, “We saw the first
one sixteen years ago, but he was so persecuted he had to leave us in a
few weeks, and only a few heard the Gospel, and we have been in darkness
for so long. Oh, if some one had only told us before the way of life!”
Many children were brought to us to be placed in school, so that they
might learn to read and write, and study the Bible. But as yet we have
been unable to open a school. My heart has been torn as I have seen
the little children growing up in such ignorance, and especially the
young girls. This country, like all other countries without the Gospel,
regards the women and girls as no more than animals, and they are the
prey to every horrible crime that anyone wishes to inflict upon them.
The little girls are often sold into lives of shame by their parents for
a few dollars. We knew one mother who sold her four young daughters.
One of them found that she was to be sold so she ran away and hid in
the mountains, but they hunted until they found her, then they bound
her and carried her away, dripping with blood where she had been beaten
with clubs and stoned with stones. The man that took her was, I am sorry
to say, an American. “It is only the precious Blood of Jesus that
can change the human heart, that is deceitful above all things, and
desperately wicked.” Jer. 17:9.
Many foreigners have come here for money, and do not care much how they
get it. Some have gold mines, others have plantations, many of them are
Americans. They are making every sacrifice for the gold that perisheth.
Shall not we, then, who have the treasure of Heaven, break the Bread of
Life to these dear hungry souls ere they perish?
There came to us early one morning a bright-faced Indian girl about
thirteen years old. Her parents were dead, her sisters were living lives
of shame and they had driven the poor little one out from them. She had
been sleeping in the markets and parks and was crying in the street. Some
one told her to come to us for we were missionaries and we would help
her. She said she would be our servant and do anything, that she might
have a place where she could be sheltered from the wicked men. She is
only one of the many thousands that are here in this dark land crying for
some one to help them. Unless we take them in they will be destroyed by
sin. Many are found dead, having been killed to hide the crime of some
wicked person. It is in behalf of these suffering ones that this little
message is sent on its way in the Name of Jesus.
We are having blessed meetings. Many are coming out to hear the good
news. Some have already received the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. A native
brother that has been saved has gone out to another place to preach, and
the power of God is falling. Several have received the Holy Spirit, and
others have been blessed in soul and healed in body.
Soon after coming into the country God gave me a vision of the blessed
Latter Rain falling all over Central America. So I ask you, dear child
of the Lord, to pray that the people in the homeland will be stirred up
to come up to the help of the Lord against the mighty. Many missionaries
have gone to China, India, Africa, and the Islands of the Sea, but few
have come to this country. Let us awake and pray that the Lord will send
forth laborers, and that the means will be provided for their support,
and that this very needy land shall hear the blessed Gospel story. There
are a few faithful soldiers of the cross laboring here, but the battle is
hard and long.
Some have fallen, and their comrades have laid them away on the green
hillside to await their reward at the coming of the One who said: “He
that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathered fruit unto life eternal.”—John
4:36.
But there is a great door open, and the enemy is flooding in with all
sorts of implements of war. There is urgent need of more soldiers and
supplies. Just as Uncle Sam was able to send men and means for the great
conflict in Europe, and so defeat the enemy, so our Captain, who never
lost a battle, is able to send His soldiers, to defeat the enemy and
drive him from the ranks and to send great showers of blessing upon the
dry and thirsty land.
[Illustration: One Indian who found Jesus and loves his Bible]
Just as some returned from the European battle-front to call for help
from their countrymen, so we send out the cry to our brothers and sisters
in Christ to let them know the great needs here, that they may join in a
petition to the Throne of Grace for help.
The fight is on, the battle sound is ringing out,
The cry to arms is heard afar and near,
The Lord of hosts is marching on to victory,
The triumph of the right will soon appear.
The fight is on O, Christian soldier,
And face to face in stern array,
With armor gleaming and colors streaming,
The right and wrong engage today.
THE INDIANS OF NICARAGUA
(Extract from Article by Brother Schoenich)
From the time that Gil Gonzaloz de Avile reached the peaceful shores of
the Chontales—Nicaragua—penetrating to the borders of the great lakes,
the Indian has been made to suffer from the hands of the so-called
enlightened races. When the above gentleman set his feet on Nicaraguan
soil, the land contained some 3,000,000 peaceful and industrious Indians.
In less than ten years 2,500,000 of them had perished in battle, were
worked to death in the mines, or had starved in the mountain fastnesses.
In 1529 the Indians revolted, and after six terrible battles, the
Spaniards succeeded in defeating them; the Indian chiefs were thrown to
bloodhounds, who tore them to pieces. The masses were subjected to heavy
tributes and severe tasks, and were driven like cattle by their cruel
conquerors. Whoever resisted was ruthlessly tortured, towns that rebelled
were destroyed and the people put to the sword. The Indians were reduced
to the most abject slavery, their property was taken, and they were
branded like cattle with hot irons. This cruel practice prevailed for
years, and the miserable remnant of Indians who were still permitted to
live, moistened their native soil with their bloody sweat, or dragged out
a painful existence in the mines or gold placers. Coffee, rubber, sugar
and cocoa were not then sought as today.
In 1810, when the first movement toward freedom began to be realized,
an impartial observer unhesitatingly estimated the entire aboriginal
population of the country at about 90,000 souls. The real Indian is fast
going out of existence. The Ladinos, a class of mixed Spanish and Indian,
soon may be all that is left of the Indian.
A fear of the white man has been planted in the Indian by these things.
This makes it hard for the missionary. When one visits their villages,
the children and women run and hide, and sometimes the men too. Only
when one is well acquainted will they show friendliness. To reach them,
a missionary must live among them, show them love and kindness and prove
by word and deed that they are their friends, and desire to bring them to
the true light of our Savior Jesus Christ.
These poor Indians are much oppressed. A planter will make a contract
with a man for himself and oftentimes his woman or wife (they are seldom
married) and all his children, to pick coffee, etc., giving him money
on the contract for his living. When the planter is ready this man and
his family must appear and work, gathering the crop, receiving twelve to
twenty cents per day. If he does not appear, soldiers are sent after him,
and he is brought at the point of the bayonet with his hands tied behind
him and made to work until his debt is paid. The contract may be made
as far as twelve months ahead, and likely the man has used up all that
his contract calls for. He then seeks work elsewhere, or even contracts
himself to another planter.
I know a man who has been trying for four or five years to get free from
his “patron,” as the planter is called. Because he is a good worker the
planter will not release him unless he pays four or five times more than
he owes. The man is interested in the Gospel. We are praying God to
liberate him and make him a true servant for our Lord Jesus Christ.
May God help the Church of Christ to awake to see the awful condition of
these people, who are also compelled to pay their church dues by law and
by force. I know a woman who was back in her church dues. They took all
that she had, which was a few chickens.
Friend, will you not take these dear people on your heart in prayer and
intercession? God can and does save poor Indians. We have seen His work
in the lives of some. Brother, Sister, awake! Our Lord is at hand, and
what is done must be done quickly. “Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it.”
There is also a remnant of Indians in remote parts of the Republic known
as the Suma and Mosquito tribes. These Indians have not come under the
influence of the Church of Rome. They do not speak the Spanish language.
There is more English than Spanish spoken among them. For more than half
a century the Moravian missionaries have worked among them. They have
several missions and churches scattered along the Atlantic coast, and up
some of the large rivers. The Moravian Mission has translated the New
Testament into the Mosquito language.
“WHERE IS THE WHITE MAN’S BOOK OF HEAVEN?”
In 1831, four Indian chiefs from Idaho made their way over the Rockies
and were found on the streets of St. Louis, asking, “Where is the white
man’s Book of Heaven?”
General Clark befriended them, took them around the city, where they
were shown everything of interest, and they were treated with the utmost
kindness. Finally two of the chiefs fell ill and died, and when the
remaining Indians were preparing to return to their own tribes, the
general gave a feast for them. At the banquet, in a farewell address to
General Clark and friends, one of the two Indians poured forth his burden
of sorrow in words of pathetic eloquence, as follows:
“I came to you over the trail of many moons from the setting sun. I came
with an eye partly open for my people, who sit in great darkness, but
I go back with both eyes closed. How can I go back blind to my blind
people? I made my way to you with strong arms, through many enemies,
and through strange lands, that I might carry back to my people much
knowledge, for my people sent me to get the white man’s Book of Heaven.
[Illustration: An Indian woman whose attention was attracted and picture
taken without her knowledge. Indians are very superstitious and are
afraid to have their pictures taken.]
“You took me to see many strange things, and to places where you allow
your women to dance, as we do not ours, but the Book was not there, and
now we are going back the long trail to our people in the dark land.
You make my feet heavy with many gifts, and my moccasins will grow old
carrying them, but the Book is not among them. What shall I do? Shall my
people die in darkness? When I go to them, without the white man’s Book
of Heaven, and tell them I could not get it, they will rise up, one by
one, and go out, to return no more, for it is for that Book that they
have been awaiting my return. How can I return to my people without the
Book?”
It is said that the city was searched for a Bible in this man’s language,
but there was none to be found, and the Indians went their way. This
incident was told in a Methodist Episcopal conference, and an appeal was
made for some to carry the Gospel to the Indians. Two young men just
starting in the ministry were present, and they arose and said they would
go. They married two lovely young women, and loaded an ox-wagon with
their belongings and with Bibles translated into the language of the
Indians to whom they were going. Many weeks of strenuous travel passed
before they reached their destination with the white man’s Book of Heaven.
The first two white women to cross the Rockies were these two young
brides, with their husbands. They spent their lives preaching the Gospel
to the Indians, hundreds of whom were brought to Jesus through this
faithful ministry.
Shall we not learn a great lesson from this story? Shall we not, with all
our modern conveniences and greater opportunities, rise up and get the
message to the great masses of humanity before Jesus comes?
One time, while preaching to a large crowd of natives in Central America,
I told them of the great love of God, and how He had saved us, and put
His great love in our hearts which was why we were there to preach to
them and tell them of that love. When I finished, an old man arose. He
said he was eighty-four years old, and this was the first time he had
heard the Gospel. Then he asked, “How long have you people of the United
States known of this wonderful love of God?” I answered that we had
always known of Jesus, that thousands knew of Him, and were serving Him,
and that I had been saved about fifteen years. The old man then asked
why, if we had known of this great Savior so long, we had not come sooner
to tell his people about Him, for all his relatives had died, and had
never heard the Gospel. He continued, “If I had known this Gospel and the
wonderful love and power of God to save us from all sin, and if you had
known nothing of it, I would have come to you.”
When I began to make preparations to leave their village they held on to
my dress and to my arms, begging me not to leave them, with no one to
teach them about the Bible, and they would not let me go. Finally I had
to pull myself from them and go for my train. As far down the track as I
could see, those dear ones were waving and calling me to return to them.
Even now I can see those beckoning hands and hear those voices calling,
although I am now far away in my homeland.
What? Shall they perish without knowing of God’s great love and of His
power and willingness to bless them and lift them up from the awful
darkness of sin and idolatry which they are in? I wish my readers might
get a peep into the land where the true God is unknown, and where there
are no Bibles to guide the people into the right path, I am sure they
would give, and so help others, who have been called, to go.
Do You Know What I Would Do?
If you had been born in a distant land,
Far over the deep wide sea;
If you had been born on a foreign strand,
And I, in America free?
If you were I, and I were you,
Do you know what I would do?
If you had been born with a swarthy skin,
And people looked on you with scorn:
While I know nothing is black but sin,
And the soul may be white as the lily at morn;
If I had a chance to uplift you,
Do you know what I would do?
If you were an orphan, and homeless too,
And never had heard of the Lord;
While I had been taught from earliest days
To love and obey His Word;
If you were poor, and ignorant too,
Do you know what I would do?
I would save my pennies and nickels and dimes,
And send them over the sea;
That you might be fed and clothed and taught,
To worship the God who is dear to me;
If you were I, and I were you,
That is just what I would do.
I would tell all the boys and girls around
Just what I was working for, too;
And I’d never give up till I got them to help
To send you the Gospel true;
If you were I, and I were you,
That is just what I would do.