Sundays by the Way

Our first Sunday was at Hingping, and proved a red-letter day indeed — for it introduced us to a living, growing, self-propagating church, a church rich in spiritual gifts, with three pastors raised up of its own membership and over nine hundred communicants; not a perfect church by any means, but one that knows the meaning of prayer and has experienced the power of God in real revivals. The welcome those dear Christians gave us was characteristic of their loving spirit, and entirely of their own planning, as we learned from the missionaries. That we did not arrive until long after we were expected hardly seemed to damp their ardour. For ourselves, jolting wearily along at two or three miles an hour, we were still some distance from the city, wondering what would happen if the gates were shut, and reminded by gathering shadows of all we had heard about robbers in that disturbed region. Suddenly a light shone ahead.

“Is this Dr. Taylor?” was shouted in Chinese by some one on horseback.

Assured that it was, he rode off and disappeared.

Presently, more lights and voices. Then a mule was hurried up, two young men fastened it rapidly to the front of the cart, and soon we were going at a gallant pace over the unknown, unseen, uneven road. What mattered jolts and jars as we saw them running cheerily beside us!

Next, more lights and quite a crowd by the wayside. Such bright, kindly faces and welcoming voices! Strong hands were outstretched to help us from the cart and we were led up a steep bank to an open door.

“But this is not the city,” we questioned, for we had not passed the gates.

“No, but you must be tired. We have prepared refreshment here, and after a little rest will take you on to the mission-house.”

It was a sort of fairy palace by the roadside — a private garden as we afterwards discovered — and we were led through trees and flowers to an open space, where a vine was trellised over the entrance to a guest-hall. Inside, a lamp was burning on a table covered with cups of steaming hot tea and plates piled high with confectionery. It was all so clean and radiant and surprising! When we were seated with two of the pastors, a number of elders, deacons, and church members crowded round, and together we gave thanks for this happy meeting. Tea and cakes were welcome, and we were soon on our way again.

The city gates, which had been shut and barred, slowly opened as we approached. Surrounded by our escort, with Pastor Hwang riding on the front of the cart, it was quite a procession as the silent streets re-echoed with familiar hymns. Thus we were brought to the mission- house, where others, singing also, came out to meet us. Then a fatherly voice bade us welcome in the Name of the Lord, and we saw Mr. and Mrs. Bergstrom and Miss Anderson standing among their people.

Words fail to tell the joy of such meetings. After being introduced to many of the Christians and answering kind inquiries as to our journey, we were taken to the building occupied by the Bergstroms — a little place, ideal in its home-comfort and simplicity. There at the supper-table, in the pleasant room that does duty as dining-room, drawing-room, and guest-hall in one, divided by an open screen with doorways, we began to learn something of what lies behind the remarkable growth of the Hingping church.

Its missionaries have been simple people, apostolic in their faith and love. Quite in the early days, before the Bergstroms came to the station, Mr. and Mrs. Nordlund were there as bridegroom and bride. Their hearts were full of desire to bring Christ to the people, but the indifference and opposition were so great that there seemed little they could do but pray. Mr. Nordlund went out preaching and selling books, and Mrs. Nordlund welcomed the women who came out of curiosity to see her, but she was rarely asked into houses as she passed along the streets, and no one seemed interested in their message. One day things came to a climax. A Christian book was thrown in at the main entrance, which was found to be scribbled all over with charges against the missionaries, and wherever the name of Jesus occurred horrible things were written against it.

Stirred with sorrow and indignation, the Nordlunds took the book and, kneeling down, laid it open before them on the ground. Here was a case to plead! Surely the adversary had overreached himself; and for the honour of that precious Name, blasphemed among the heathen, they laid hold upon promise after promise, with faith that claimed a wonderful fulfilment. Such prayer — on and on through the whole afternoon, with many tears! But in those days they just lived to pray. “Hours and hours I have known them to spend on their knees,” said one who became their fellow- worker, “praying for openings, praying for souls, always with many tears.”

One of the things Mrs. Nordlund specially prayed for was that the Lord Himself would speak to people whom they could not reach; speak by vision and dreams, if there were no other way, but work in some hearts directly and bring them to Himself. All the summer she prayed this prayer, and mean¬ while the answer was on its way. In a -village near the city a woman had a dream. She saw a beautiful being come towards her with hands outstretched, as though offering some gift. The face she could not forget, nor the expression of love and happiness. But never in her life had she seen any one look like that, and how could she suppose she ever would? What was her surprise, therefore, when running with the rest one day to see the much-talked-of foreigner, to find herself looking into that very face with the eyes of love! Little wonder she listened to what the missionary was saying, and that the truth reached her heart. So this was the wonderful gift

—a Saviour who had died that her sins might be forgiven and who would take her to eternal happiness with Himself in heaven. Whose joy was the greater — hers, as she entered by faith into new life in Christ, or that of the young missionary, who was seeing God’s own working in answer to prayer?

Ten years later there was a church in Hingping of a hundred and fifty members, but Mr. Bergstrom was far from satisfied. Most of them were his own children in the faith, and he understood and loved them as only a father can. He had worked assiduously to reach the scholarly men of the district, and quite a few were found among the Christians and enquirers. All this was encouraging, but he longed to see more evidence of spiritual life and power.

“I felt that the Christians were not united,” he said, recalling those days; “that there was not mutual love and a spirit of submission one to another. They were too much taken up with worldly things. The Spirit of God had not free way in their hearts, to form in them a Christlike character.”

There was also great need for Chinese fellow-workers, men of faith and devotion, to evangelise the populous plain right back to the mountains. Concerned about these things the only resource was prayer, and to this Mr. Bergstrom gave himself more definitely. At length there came two years when the burden was so great that he felt he could not live unless his heart’s cry were answered. To prayer were added frequent seasons of fasting. A young missionary who joined him at this time was deeply impressed with the way in which the busy head of the station would spend hours in prayer, fasting usually twice a week. It was revival he prayed for — real GoD-sent revival, such as he had known in Sweden — and that the Lord would raise up among the Christians men of spiritual gifts, and open the whole district to the Gospel.

Wonderful must have been the answer when it came, as we could tell from the results a dozen years later.

“I am a good friend to Finney,” said Mr. Bergstrom, speaking of that great evangelist’s writings on the subject of revival. “The times we had in 1907-8, both before Mr. Lutley came and while he was with us, were of that order. Our prayers were answered and our joy was full. But I believe in continuous revival. I believe in the sort of thing they had in Moody’s church, a revival for eight years, every week souls saved and believers quickened. If we use faithfully the GoD-appointed means — prayer and the Word — it surely would be so, and big revivals would only be a fuller measure of what we have all the time. I cannot say we have reached this state here in Hingping as regards the whole church, but some of the Christians, some part of the church, must be filled with the Spirit, or we should not have the conversions we do have by the blessing of God.”

This we could well believe in the services we attended and in daily intercourse with the Christians. What a spirit of prayer there was among them! An Autumn Conference had recently been held at which there had been much blessing, but still the people gathered, hungry for more. Pastor Wang had come in from his tent-missions and Pastor Kuoh from his out-stations, and with Pastor Hwang took a leading part in the services. The eagerness of the people for spiritual help was what impressed us most — whether healing in sickness, restoration from backsliding, or deliverance from the power of the devil. The latter was just as real to them as any one present; and it was startling to hear with what directness men and women told their failures and troubles, seeking definite help. It seemed nothing unusual for Pastor Hwang to stop in the middle of an address, or between prayers, to ask some one who had come up and was standing quietly by the platform:

“What is it? Tell me, and we will pray for you.”

At the close of a meeting there would often be quite a number who had come, without public invitation, to seek restoration, to give their hearts to the Lord or to praise Him for blessing received.

Then the praying! It was different from most praying — far more definite, free, and earnest. It was Mr. Bergstrom’s habit to say at the commencement of a meeting — not only prayer meetings but any and every occasion:

“Now we will take [literally, “use”] a little time for praying.”

He would mention special subjects, two or three at a time, and give opportunity for prayer, when they would immediately be taken up. And the praying was not discursive, about anything or nothing. It was very much to the point, really dealing with the subjects mentioned. At the ii

Sunday morning service, for example, he began, after a hymn of praise:

“Now, let us use a little time in praying for the coming of the Kingdom of God. The Lord Jesus taught us to pray, ‘ Thy Kingdom come.’ For over nineteen hundred years this has been the prayer of the Church, and many signs show us, now, that that prayer will soon be answered in the coming of the Lord. Let us take a little time to pray for the establishment of that Kingdom which is ‘ righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost,”

Two of the pastors led in intelligent, fervent supplication.

“Let us use a little time in praying for our country,” the quiet voice went on — “for China, for its rulers and its good in every way.” After speaking briefly on this subject, he asked two of the elders to lead. Much was revealed in the prayers that followed of the habit of intercession that has become natural to these Christians.

“And now let us use a little time in praying for our families, our friends and neighbours, and the services of the day.”

Some of the evangelists took up these petitions in a way that greatly helped the speakers who were to follow. At all the meetings it was the same. Whether called upon by name or not, those people prayed, barely waiting for one to finish before another began, and in that direct simple way of transacting real business with God. Outsiders coming in at such times could not fail to be impressed with the thought that the Christians’ God is the one who hears and answers prayer. “But how has it come to be like this? “one could not but ask oneself. “How have these converts recently gathered in from heathenism learned to pray with so much faith and directness?” The answer was not far to seek, with that quiet, deep-hearted man in their midst, whose whole atmosphere is one of prayer and the presence of God.

“I have made not a few mistakes,” he said to us in talking about church matters, “but the Lord seems to have worked even through my mistakes. Some have blamed me for baptizing people too readily, though we have always looked for evidences of true conversion; and some have thought me daring in entrusting responsibility to the Christians. But one may hinder the Lord’s work by being too careful. I do not know that it would have been better any other way.”

But it was not only the praying that impressed us — there were the testimonies in the great Endeavour meeting. How one did wish that Christian Endeavourers at home could have seen and heard it all! Imagine the big, irregular-shaped church, the white-washed walls decorated with scrolls and paintings by a Chinese artist (a believer who has gone to be with the Lord), and in a corner near the platform the vigorous band that lead the singing. Mr. Bergstrom himself cannot sing a note, so that the two violins, the guitars, and other instruments have it all their own way, which is quite a Chinese way naturally. Hundreds of Christians are there for the Endeavour meeting, and Pastor Hwang is in the chair.

To touch upon one or two incidents only: The first to speak was a middle-aged farmer, named Kuoh, a fine-looking man with a deep, full voice. He said he had been a Christian for two years, but had not been happy, because he had hidden his light under a bushel. He never could bring himself to speak’ to others about what he had found in Christ. Recently, in one of Pastor Wang’s tent-missions, he had definitely sought deliverance in this matter. He had asked the Lord to open his lips, and had trusted Him for power to witness to His saving grace. He had left the tent, he told us, determined to speak to the first man he met! He did so, and was encouraged. Then he spoke to another, and another, and such wonderful joy filled his heart! One could see it in his face. The Lord had answered his prayer and given him liberty.

Very different was another who stood up — an old man and half-blind, but equally full of joy. He told a remarkable story. He had so wanted to come in from his village for the Conference meetings, a few weeks previously. But he had no money for the journey or for food. He was a second husband, though he did not mention this, and his wife had married him in order to get a good labourer to look after her land. The arrangement worked pretty well until he began to lose his sight, but since then his life had been a burden. The woman and her sons were hard upon him, and all the more so because he had become a Christian. The very idea of his wanting to go to meetings and have money for food and collections! They would let him know that he was nothing but a useless burden, and could not cut grass enough to pay for his keep. All this we learned afterwards. What the old man said was that he prayed and prayed about going to the meetings. He did so want to learn more of the truth, and to have something to give to the Lord like other believers. But it all seemed very hopeless and he could do nothing but pray.

Then as the Conference drew near, his wife needed some raw cotton to spin into thread, and went to a basket hanging over the brick bed in their room to take a handful. To her astonishment, with the cotton she took out something hard, which proved to be a silver dollar. Nobody knew where it had come from, and the woman and her sons were too surprised to claim it.

“Of course,” said the old man when he knew what was going on, “of course it is my answer to prayer! You would not give me money or flour to go and worship God, but He has heard my cry and sent me this piece of silver. We dare not use it in any way but in His service.”

The wife and sons were so much impressed that they handed over this small fortune without demur, and it may be imagined with what joy the old man came in to the meetings. Now, as he told us, his family are wanting to learn about the Gospel, and he is treated with much more respect.

“Truly the Lord has many ways of working,” was Pastor Hwang’s comment. “He pitied this poor suffering child of His and found a way to help him, not only answering his prayer, but doing more than he asked or thought.”

And then, not to dwell upon many other matters 15

of interest, just as the meeting closed a beautiful thing happened. A woman came forward, entirely of her own accord, and knelt down in front of the platform. She was a nice - looking, well - dressed person in middle life, and seemed much in earnest.

“What do you wish us to pray for?” asked one of the pastors.

Her answer was a little puzzling: “I wish to believe in the Lord with all my house.”

But before anything more could be said, Farmer Kuoh came eagerly round from the men’s side of the partition.

“Oh, it is my child’s mother!” he exclaimed. “She alone, of all our family, would not believe. My old father believes — he is eighty-five. My mother believes, and my son and daughter-in-law. But my wife has been bitterly opposed. Now, thank God, she too wishes to become a Christian!”

His face was radiant as he knelt beside her. There was thanksgiving and prayer, and as we rose she said quietly, “Now, I too believe — with all my house.”

It is not easy to come to an end of our recollections of Hingping, any more than it was to close our visit. Long conversations with the pastors must be passed over, with details as to how they were led, each one, to faith in Christ. And further reference to the great Revival must be omitted, save for one remark of Mr. Bergstrom’s about a discovery he made when the Holy Spirit came in power. It was to do with the language. He had felt himself hampered before that time, and considered Chinese a poor medium for conveying spiritual truth, though he was an exceptionally good speaker. But during those wonderful days that lifted the church on to a new plane in spiritual life, “I found the Chinese language apply itself to the feelings,” he told us, “just as any other language. I used to think that it could not be like our home words, so heart-moving and tender. But when the Revival came — oh, what melting! The language was no more any difficulty.”