A frank discussion of the "rights" of missionaries

Have We No Rights?

Mabel Williamson

China Inland MissionOverseas Missionary Fellowship

Moody PressChicago

Copyright ©, 1957, byTHE MOODY BIBLE INSTITUTEOF CHICAGO

Reprinted, 1973

_Printed in the United States of America_

_Contents_

CHAPTER PAGE

1. Rights 7

2. The Right to What I Consider a Normal Standard of Living 11

3. The Right to the Ordinary Safeguards of Good Health 23

4. The Right to Regulate My Private Affairs As I Wish 33

5. The Right to Privacy 39

6. The Right to My Own Time 47

7. The Right to a Normal Romance, If Any 55

8. The Right to a Normal Home Life 67

9. The Right to Live With the People of My Choice 81

10. The Right to Feel Superior 91

11. The Right to Run Things 103

12. He Had No Rights 125

NOTE: Most of the Scripture quotations have been taken from theAmerican Standard Version. 

CHAPTER 1

_Rights_

"Well, " said mother, setting down a cup she had just wiped, andpicking up another, "the older I get, and the older my children get, the more I realize how little right a person has even to her ownchildren. By the time they get--well--into high school they aren'tyours any more. "

"But, Mother, " I protested, dropping a dripping dishcloth into thedishpan and looking at her in amazement, "of course we are yours!Whose else would we be?"

There was silence for a moment. Then, "You--you belong to yourselves, "she said quietly. 

America--the land of freedom and opportunity! The land whereeveryone's rights are respected! The land where the son of a shiftlessdrunkard can grit his teeth and say, "I'm going to be rich and famoussome day!" Here in America we pride ourselves on the fact thateveryone has the right to live his own life as he pleases--provided, that is, that he does not infringe upon the rights of someone else. 

Rights--your rights; my rights. Just what are rights, anyway?

 * * * * *

A group of half a dozen missionaries were gathered for prayer in asimply furnished living room of a mission house in China. For a fewminutes one of the group spoke to us out of his heart, and I shallnever forget the gist of what he said. 

"You know, " he began, "there's a great deal of difference between_eating bitterness_ [Chinese idiom for 'suffering hardship'] and_eating loss_ [Chinese idiom for 'suffering the infringement of one'srights']. 'Eating bitterness' is easy enough. To go out with thepreaching band, walk twenty or thirty miles to the place where you areto work, help set up the tent, placard the town with posters, andspend several weeks in a strenuous campaign of meetings andvisitation--why, that's a thrill! Your bed may be made of a couple ofplanks laid on sawhorses, and you may have to eat boiled rice, greens, and beancurd three times a day. But that's just the beauty of it! Why, it's good for anyone to go back to the simple life! A little healthy'bitterness' is good for anybody!

"When I came to China, " he continued, "I was all ready to 'eatbitterness' and like it. That hasn't troubled me particularly. Ittakes a little while to get your palate and your digestion used toChinese food, of course, but that was no harder than I had expected. Another thing, however"--and he paused significantly--"_another thing_that I had never thought about came up to make trouble. I had to 'eatloss'! I found that I couldn't stand up for my rights--that I couldn'teven _have_ any rights. I found that I had to give them up, every one, and that was the hardest thing of all. "

 * * * * *

That missionary was right. On the mission field it is not the enduringof hardships, the lack of comforts, and the roughness of the life thatmake the missionary cringe and falter. It is something far lessromantic and far more real. It is something that will hit you rightdown where you live. The missionary has to give up having his own way. He has to give up having any rights. He has, in the words of Jesus, to"deny himself. " He just has to give up _himself_. 

Paul knew all about this. If you do not believe it, look at ICorinthians 9. "Have we no right to eat and to drink?" he asks. "Havewe not a right to forbear working?... Nevertheless, " he goes on, "wedid not use this right.... Though I was free from all men, I broughtmyself under bondage to all, that I might gain the more" (vv. 4, 6, 12, 19). 

Paul, as a missionary, willingly gave up his rights for the sake ofthe Gospel. Are we ready to do the same?

"But, " someone will ask, "why should this be especially true for the_missionary_? What rights must be given up on the mission field that aconsecrated Christian at home would not have to give up?"

The following chapters picture some of them. 

CHAPTER 2

_The Right to What I Consider a Normal Standard of Living_

_"Have we no right to eat and to drink?"_--I Corinthians 9:4

The white-haired mission secretary looked at me quizzically. "Well, "he said, "it's all in your point of view. We find that these days inthe tropics people may look upon the missionary's Americanrefrigerator as a normal and necessary thing; but the cheap printcurtains hanging at his windows may be to them unjustifiableextravagance!"

 * * * * *

My mind goes back to a simple missionary home in China, with a cheaprug on the painted boards of the living-room floor. I can see countrywomen carefully skirting that rug, trying to get to the chairsindicated for them without stepping on it. Rugs, to them, belonged onbeds, not on floors, and they would no more think of walking on my rugthan you would on my best blanket! I think of our dining table set fora meal, and visitors examining with amazement the silver implementsinstead of bamboo chopsticks; and white cloth instead of a bare table. I think of having overheard our cook say proudly to a chance comer, "Oh, of course they have lots of money! Why, they always eat whitebread; and they have meat every day, nearly; and as for sugar--why, you just can't imagine the amount of sugar they use!"

 * * * * *

English service was over, and we went home with a lady doctor andnurse of another mission. They had invited us to Sunday night supper. The sermon, delivered by a missionary of still another mission, whowas stationed in the city, had been striking and thought-provoking. The text had been Luke 8:14: "And that which fell among thorns arethey, which, when they have heard, go forth, and are choked with caresand riches and pleasures of this life, and bring no fruit toperfection. "

"This verse must refer to missionaries, " the speaker had begun, "because it says that when they have heard, they go forth. "

He had gone on to describe a picture he would like to paint. Allaround the border were to be the "cares" and "riches" and "pleasures"that hindered the real work of the missionary. Subjects that hit homewere mentioned--there would be a big account book that tied themissionary down so that he had no time for a spiritual ministry; ateacup, symbolizing the round of entertaining that may develop in acity where there is a relatively large missionary community; a houseand its furnishings, needing constant attention; and so on. Theconclusion of the sermon had been very solemnizing, because of allthese cares and pleasures and things that are second to God's best, itis tragically possible that the missionary may "bring no fruit toperfection. "

At the supper table we had an interesting discussion of the sermon andits implications. Then the lady doctor made a remark that I have neverforgotten. 

"When Frances and I set up this house, " she said, "we agreed that oneprinciple must never be violated. We would have nothing in ourhouse--its furnishings its arrangement--nothing that would keep theordinary poor people among whom we work from coming in, or that wouldmake them feel strange here. "

 * * * * *

A standard of living--what does it amount to? How important is it?Does it matter whether we missionaries sleep on spring beds, or thosemade of boards (I prefer the latter myself!), whether we eat withchopsticks, or fingers, or forks; whether we wear silk or homespun;whether we sit on chairs or on the floor? Does it matter whether weare poor or rich? Does it matter whether we eat rice or potatoes?Does it matter whether we live in the way to which we are accustomed, or adopt the way of living of those to whom we go?

It may matter quite a lot to ourselves. Most of us like potatoesbetter than rice. That is to say, most of us like things the way weare used to having them rather than some other way. What is to be ourattitude on the mission field? Are we free to try to have things theway we would like them, and to live, as much as possible, as we wouldat home? Or ought we to attempt, as far as we can, to conform to theway of life of the people among whom we live? This, of course, bringsus to other questions: Does it matter to the people to whom we gowhether we conform or not? And, more important, does it matter insofaras the progress of the Gospel is concerned? Will our conforming helpto win souls to Christ?

The first thing to be said in answer to these questions is that thestandards of missionary living necessarily must vary with localconditions. In some places there is a mixture of races and peoples, each in general keeping with its own customs and dress, and yet mixingfreely with the others. In such places there may be many Westerners, and Western ways may not only be familiar, but even adopted to acertain extent by the local people. In situations like this there maybe little or no need for the missionary to change his ordinary way oflife. 

Most missionaries go to places where the way of life is different fromtheir own, and to people to whom their way of life is strange and bywhom it is not understood. It is natural for us to like people who dothings in the way in which we like them done. We are attracted tothose who seem the same as ourselves, and turn (perhaps unconsciously)from those who seem queer and different. People of other lands are thesame. When we see someone whose complexion, features, clothing, language, manners, and customs are different from our own, our naturalreaction is to stare, or laugh, or both. It is not natural to beattracted to those who are different from ourselves. The missionarywants to attract people. People must be attracted to him before theycan be attracted to his message. They must accept him before they willaccept his message. The more we can conform to their way of life, theeasier and more natural and more rapid their acceptance of us will be. 

The report of a China Inland Mission conference of missionaries heldin England a few years ago includes as one of the lessons learned frompast experience of missionary work in China, "the will to conform asnearly as possible to the social and living conditions of the peopleto whom we went. " This means, of course, that different missionarieswill live according to different standards. For example, my sisterFrances and I are both members of the China Inland Mission. During thepast few years I have been living in the modern and wealthy city ofSingapore. I lived according to an ordinary middle-classstandard--which meant running water, electricity, gas, and modernplumbing. I was conforming to the social standards and livingconditions of the people to whom I went. During the same time mysister was in the Philippines, living in a palm-leaf hut in a clearingin the jungle, carrying her own water and sleeping on the floor. Shewas conforming to the social standards and living conditions of thepeople to whom she went. Paul says: "I am become all things to allmen, that I may by all means save some" (I Cor. 9:22). He found whatthe present-day missionary finds, that to some extent he must adoptthe way of life and the standard of living of the people to whom hewas sent. 

 * * * * *

Now, in what measure will it be desirable to adopt the local way oflife? What principles will guide us? Well, in the first place we willcertainly want to become familiar enough with it so that we feel athome in their homes. If we find their way of sitting uncomfortable, and their food unpleasant, they are not going to enjoy having us asguests. I may think it disgusting to eat my rice off a banana leafwith my fingers, but if I show that disgust, I probably will not beinvited again. And my hostess may decide that I am merely anunmannerly foreigner, and that there is no profit in pursuing myacquaintance, or in listening to the strange stories of Someone calledJesus that I am so fond of telling. It is also in their homes that wemay become really acquainted with them, and learn to know their needs. When we have become familiar with how they eat, how they sleep, howthey work, how they play, what they like, what they dislike, what theyhope, what they fear, how they think, how they feel--when we reallyunderstand them, then, and only then, will we be able to present theGospel to them in an adequate way. 

In the second place, we will want to live in our own homes on themission field in such a way as to make our neighbors feel at home whenthey come to call on us. The fundamental attraction will not beexternalities and material things. Even though I live in a little hutthat is identical with their own, if in my heart I just do not like tohave them around, they will know it, and they will not be attracted tome. But if not only the love and the welcome are there, but also a wayof life that corresponds to their own, the approach will be made stilleasier. 

This does not mean, of course, that I will unthinkingly accept alllocal standards. If I go to Central Africa, I probably will not decidethat wearing clothes is an unjustifiable luxury. There is no need forme to neglect to sweep the floor of my palm-leaf hut just because myneighbors do not sweep theirs. The fact that everyone else chews betelnut, or plays mah-jongg, does not mean that I will take up thesepractices. But I will want, as far as possible, to live the sort oflife that it would be suitable for a native[1] Christian to imitate. 

Another point must also be considered here. We missionaries mightvoice it like this: "I would love to live as the native peoples do, ifI only could; but I just can't take it!" It is true that we may not beable to live entirely as they do and keep our health. The man who wasborn and bred in the tropics finds the climate just what he likes. Thesame climate takes all the energy out of the missionary who has comefrom the temperate zone. Foreigners are more susceptible to localdiseases than natives. If the missionary eats only what the localpeople do, his health may break down. If he himself does all thehousehold chores in a land in which there are no modern conveniences, he may find that he has very little time left in which to study thelanguage or preach the Gospel. On most mission fields it is found thata certain amount of variation from the local mode of life is necessaryif the missionaries are to continue in good physical and mentalhealth. 

We can, however, gradually get used to unfamiliar things. I rememberonce, after I had been in China a few years, visiting a neighboringmission station. New workers had arrived there, a young couple freshfrom language school. I was eager to meet them, but they did notappear. In answer to my inquiry, the reply was, "Oh, they were invitedout to a feast last night, and it's upset them both! They are both inbed!"

My heart sank. Whatever use will these young workers be, I thought, ifthey can't eat Chinese food? They won't be able to go to the countryand minister in all the little country churches that are so much inneed of help--they can't get Western food there! They had better havestayed at home!

After a few years had passed, however, the young man mentioned abovedid start to do country work, and he did it very acceptably. What ismore, he even came to prefer an ordinary country meal of local food tothe best Western dishes that his wife could give him at home! Seeingthat, I began to realize a thing that should be a comfort to all youngworkers who find the food or the living conditions difficult. _Over aperiod of time familiarity not only turns difficulty to ease, butoften even removes the "dis" from dislike!_

The young worker goes with an older one to make a call or two. Everything is new. Everything is strange. Everything is nerve-wearing. If a seat is offered, it is uncomfortable. If food or drink isoffered, either may be unpleasant. Even if he understands more or lessof what is being said, the conversations are tiring. And by the timehe reaches home he is utterly worn out. As far as he is concerned, however, that is not the worst. He looks at the older worker who hastaken him out--someone getting on in years, perhaps a bit stooped, andobviously not in the pink of health. This missionary has done all theyounger one did, and more. He also preached a few times to crowds thatgathered, and he carried on endless conversations, but just listeningmade the younger worker tired. Yet this older man somehow has arrivedhome as fresh as a daisy!

The new worker, in his first station, often has to go through a stagein which he finds everything uncomfortable, unattractive, anddifficult, but there is no need for him to become discouraged. Eventhat older worker probably did too, although he may have forgotten it!The change comes slowly, and the young missionary may not be able tosee it for a long time, but if he everlastingly keeps at it, he willsurely find that, after a few years, familiarity has made thedifficult easy. Most people will find, as well, that it has even madethe distasteful pleasant!

 * * * * *

A mother was coaxing her little daughter to eat her vegetable. "But Idon't like it!" the child objected. 

"But you will, " encouraged the mother. "Just eat it a few times andyou will get used to it. It won't be long before you really like it!"

The child sat stock-still for a moment, considering. Then she burstout, "But I don't _want_ to like the horrid stuff!"

Other people's ways, other people's customs, other people'sstandards--do we _want_ to like them? Or do we cling tenaciously toour own, insisting that they are the only good and right ones? It isthe attitude of mind and heart that matters. If we are willing to giveup our own standard of living, willing to live as far as possibleaccording to someone else's standards, then surely it is the businessof our Master to make that possible in such degree as He sees isneeded and best. Before we go to the field then, let us give up allright to our own standard of living, and be ready contentedly toembrace, as far as He makes possible, that of the people to whom Hesends us. 

CHAPTER 3

_The Right to the Ordinary Safeguards of Good Health_

 "They must count the cost, and be prepared to live lives of privation, of toil, and perhaps of loneliness and danger. They will need to trust God to meet their need in sickness as well as in health, since it may sometimes be impossible to secure expert medical aid. But, if they are faithful servants, they will find in Christ and in His Word a fulness, a meetness, a preciousness, a joy and strength, that will far outweigh any sacrifice they may be called upon to make for Him. "

 _--The Overseas Manual of the China Inland Mission Overseas Missionary Fellowship_ (1955), p. 4. 

I carefully spread a large handkerchief on the desk to keep my armfrom sticking, took up my pen, and began painstakingly to practicewriting the intricate Chinese characters before me. Every few minutesI stopped to wipe the perspiration from my face. 

"How about going out to Uncle Wong's with me?" My sister had come intothe room. "The pastor's wife intended to go with me, but now she hascompany and can't go. It will give you a good chance to practicetalking Chinese, so the time won't be wasted--as far as your studygoes, I mean. "

We got our umbrellas, palm-leaf fans, and tract bags, and started off. The sun was beating down, and the temperature certainly was higheroutdoors, but the breeze gave an illusion of coolness, and thepleasant country road upon which we soon entered was enough to make upfor a little extra heat. The two miles were quickly covered, and wefound ourselves greeted effusively by Mrs. Wong and her daughter. 

"Imagine you two teachers coming out here today, when it's so hot! Weare entirely unworthy of such consideration! Why, you might makeyourselves ill, not being used to such heat in your honorable country!Do sit down and rest! This bamboo bed here in the shade of the houseis a cool spot. Daughter, get the teachers fans. Oh, you have broughtthem with you! Yes, fans are indispensable in this weather! Quicklystart the fire, daughter, and heat water for tea! Oh--" a suddenthought struck her, "we have no tea leaves in the house! Daughter, yourun to the neighbors and borrow some. Don't go to any of these folknearby. They are all poor and probably wouldn't have any. Go to FourthAunt's, over in the other end of the village. "

At home we always kept a crock of cooled boiled water on hand, buthere there was nothing like that; and drinking unboiled water was asunthinkable to her as it was to us. We protested vigorously that wewould just as soon have "white tea" (boiling water) as tea made withleaves, but Mrs. Wong would not hear of such a thing. Suddenly an ideastruck her. 

"Oh, " she said, "I know something much better! Daughter, just run tothe garden and pick some cucumbers! They'll be better than hot teaanyway, and quench one's thirst just as effectively. "

The daughter ran off. After a few minutes the big son came along withtwo brimming buckets of cold well water and poured it into the stonewater butt, which had been almost empty. "Do you prefer to wash yourfaces in cold water or hot?" Mrs. Wong asked. 

"Oh, cold, please!" we both replied, already feeling in anticipationthat cold water on our hot faces; but Mrs. Wong, conscience-smitten, was already lighting the fire. "Oh, I shouldn't have asked such afoolish question!" she rattled on. "Of course cold water won't removeperspiration. No, no, it's no trouble. It will be warm enough in justa minute. "

The hot water was ladled into the basin, and Mrs. Wong lookedinquiringly around the room. I poked my sister. "She's looking for awashcloth, " I whispered in English. "Quick, tell her we have one, orshe'll be putting their already used one in!"

Fortunately the family washcloth hadn't been discovered by the timeours was produced; and we proceeded to wash. I, being the younger, dutifully allowed my sister to use the water first. "Don't wash tooclose around your eyes, " said my sister in an aside to me. "Someone inthe family might have sore eyes, and there might be germs on thebasin. "

After we had finished with the basin of hot water, Mrs. Wong tookadvantage of it, having found her own washcloth in the meantime. Justat that moment the daughter returned with her apron full of cucumbers, and politely offered a large one to my sister. Her mother quicklysnatched it away. 

"As big a girl as that, and you don't know anything about hygiene!"she reproved, sternly. "You haven't even washed them!"

As the cucumbers were being washed with the cold well water, I thoughtto myself that they were probably no more germ-free after the baththan before. Unboiled water from shallow wells is not necessarily freefrom germs. I said nothing, however. After the daughter had finishedscrubbing the cucumbers, the mother got a knife and carefully peeledtwo big ones. Then she handed them to us. Her own she did not botherto peel. 

"We Chinese are very unhygienic, " she apologized. "Of course _you_wouldn't eat cucumbers without peeling them!"

What would she have thought if she knew that to our minds neither thewashing in cold water nor the peeling made them safe to eat? I glancedat my sister, who was usually very particular about seeing that allraw fruits and vegetables were scalded before eating, and wasastonished to find that she was placidly and unconcernedly munchingher cucumber. She and Mrs. Wong were already striking up a livelyconversation about something else. I followed her example, and foundthe cucumber very refreshing. 

"How can you be so particular about scalding things at home, and thengo out to the country and eat unscalded cucumbers?" I asked, as wewere wending our way home. 

"Oh, we couldn't possibly offend Mrs. Wong by refusing to eat what shehad to offer us!" was my sister's reply. "We certainly ought to be asparticular as we can when we are in our own home; but when we areguests, and it's a question of offending someone--well, I think theLord looks after those cases!"

 * * * * *

Teacups! Beautiful Kingtechen china of the thousand-flower pattern, thin and exquisite; or perhaps just a rough earthenware cup, with thehandle missing. Everywhere we went in China we found teacups. Everywhere we went the first thing we were offered was a cup of tea. Fragrant tea, bitter tea, hot tea, cold tea; tea served inhand-painted china, tea in an earthenware bowl--whatever the cup was, we lifted it to our lips and drank. What was the first thing wethought of as we tasted the tea? Whether it was pleasant or otherwise?The kindness of the one who offered it to us? Or the dangers thatmight lurk on the edge of that cup? For tea, even very hot tea, cannotbe expected to sterilize the rim of the cup; and who knows who used itpreviously, or what dangerous disease he might have had? It had beenwashed, of course, or at least rinsed out, but--

"Don't the Chinese scald their dishes when they wash them?" you ask. Well, do you? "M-m-m, not always, but the danger is much less inAmerica, " you say. That may be true; but it is hard to realize thedanger of infection in one's own home, wherever it may be; and eventhose who live under what we might call unhygienic conditions are nomore conscious of the danger in their own homes than you are in yours. I used to think, sometimes, that the most dangerous thing we met within China was just an ordinary teacup, and that the germs that lurkedon its rim were more menacing than tigers or bandits. (Let me hastilyadd that in all my fifteen years in that country, and having partakenof tea from ten thousand teacups, more or less, in many places and inmany homes, I am still quite alive, and in good health and spirits!)

"Now, that wouldn't worry me!" you think cheerfully. "I'm just notparticular!"

I am sorry, but that is not at all the conclusion I want you to drawfrom the above remarks. I am giving no one license for not beingcareful. No child of God should feel at liberty to disregard what heknows to be the rules of good health, just because he feels like it, much less the man or woman on the mission field. 

 * * * * *

The cook comes in with a basket of foodstuffs fresh from the market. The young missionary spots a particularly luscious plum, picks it up, and takes a bite. 

"Mary!" a scandalized senior gasps. "_Whatever_ are you thinking of?Eating that plum without scalding it first! You'll likely get choleraor typhoid and die!"

Yes, in most mission stations the rules of hygiene are adhered to verystrictly, and it would be a hardy junior worker who could come throughalive without observing them. 

Perhaps several years have gone by. You are in charge of the homeyourself, and the "discipline" relaxes a bit. Perhaps you even resortto washing your fruit in cold boiled water instead of scalding it, because scalding does spoil it so! Then the younger workers are sentto you, and you become the head of a new family. One day, suddenly, one of them gets a violently upset stomach. Is it cholera? The nearesthospital is two days' journey away. You catch your breath, and goahead caring for her the best you can with your limited medicalknowledge, a constant cry going up from your heart to the only One whocan help, to Him who is the only all-sufficient One! If you arefortunate your junior recovers. From that time on, all the fruit thatappears on your table will be thoroughly scalded. 

 * * * * *

This is not a chapter on missionary health. It does not purpose toinstruct you in the rules of hygiene. Rather it inquires intoattitudes. Is the missionary to be as particular as he can abouteverything (fussy, some may call it), or should his faith be greatenough so that he overlooks the rules of the doctors? Or perhaps, arethere times when the one attitude is desirable, and times for theother?

The Lord of the harvest has sent us forth. A dead laborer, or even asick one, is not much use. It is surely our duty to take all sensibleprecautions, and whenever possible to use the safeguards to healthwith which modern science has provided us. We have no right at all todisobey the rules of hygiene just because we happen to feel like it. But on the other hand, when those among whom we are ministering, people whose training is different from ours, who have no conceptionof modern hygiene, out of the love in their hearts provide us withthings to eat and drink, surely then is the time to say with Paul, "asking no questions for conscience' sake" (I Cor. 10:27). Surely incases where adhering strictly to the rules of hygiene would hinder thefulfilling of our commission, we can trust the One who sent us forthto look after us. 

CHAPTER 4

_The Right to Regulate My Private Affairs As I Wish_

 _"Wherefore, if meat causeth my brother to stumble, I will eat no flesh for evermore, that I cause not my brother to stumble. "_--I Corinthians 8:13

"Please, teacher, " said a voice at my elbow, "wouldn't you like towash your face?"

We were having a week in the country. For the fifth time that day, ourfirst full day out, there stood the pastor's wife, holding out to me abasin of steaming water. She had just the right combination ofhumility and pride in her manner. I quickly stifled the desire to say, "I don't want to wash! What in the world do I want to wash my facefive times a day for?" Then I mumbled thanks, and reached wearily formy washcloth. But a little later I tackled her about it. 

"Do you always wash your face as often as this?"

"Why, of course!" was the quick reply. "All clean people do! And I wasbrought up in a very clean family. "

I let the matter drop, and washed my face (and my feet) as often asshe thought best for the rest of the trip. 

 * * * * *

Grandmother Bay's little granddaughter had just come back fromShanghai. Grandmother Bay proudly appeared at church accompanied by aprettily dressed, well-behaved child of about nine. After the serviceseveral of us sat chatting. One old lady looked at the child's prettyfrock, and then gave a quick glance at her grandmother. 

"I suppose that's the Shanghai style, " was all that she said, butGrandmother Bay divined her meaning. 

"Just what I thought myself!" She quickly caught up the remark. "It'spretty material, and nicely made--cut a bit closely, but I supposethose Shanghai tailors do it that way. But the sleeves! Practically nosleeves at all! It's almost indecent! But you know, she has hardly ascrap of the material, and I haven't been able to match it. OtherwiseI should have lengthened them immediately. It's too good a garment tothrow away. I don't know what in the world to do about it!"

I sat listening with my mouth open. The child was little enough sothat I would hardly have been surprised to see her running around theyard with nothing on but a pair of trousers, as many smaller girlsdid. (The boys needed still less!) The objectionable sleeves were justlong enough to cover her shoulders. What was wrong with that for achild of her size?

I looked at the two women, trying my best to understand their point ofview. What I saw made me gasp. In that area the older women all worethigh-length loose jackets, and loose trousers, as their regulationattire. It was warm, and one of the two women had just pulled up hertrouser legs. Her short stockings reached about eight inches above herankles, and were held in place by tight round garters. She vigorouslyfanned her bare knees as the two, with serious, troubled faces, continued the conversation about the "indecent" dress. 

 * * * * *

What is decency anyway? In certain groups in India it is not decentfor a woman to show her face, but her bare feet peep from beneath herlong robes. Things that look perfectly all right to us look indecentto someone else; and things that look indecent to us may lookperfectly all right to someone else!

A young missionary goes inland to her first station. "I'm not going tolook frumpy!" she declares, and takes all her prettiest dresses. Whenshe comes out in gay colors that are not worn in that backward area, or in short sleeves when everyone else has elbows duly covered, hersenior missionary attempts to suggest a bit of alteration in herwardrobe. All suggestions, however, are indignantly rejected. Sheplunges enthusiastically into work with the children, using picturesvery effectively to supplement her limited vocabulary. One day her twofavorite scholars do not appear, and she asks her helper, a brighthigh school girl, the reason. The embarrassed and evasive answer doesnot satisfy, and she keeps after the poor girl until finally she istold the truth. An hour later her senior missionary finds her weepingin her room. 

"She said, " she chokes, "she said----that their mother won't let themcome any more because I----because I can't be a good woman; I dresslike a--a prostitute!"

What is wrong? Why does the eager young missionary have to go throughall this heartache? Just because she is not willing to see withsomeone else's eyes. Her own standards are the only right ones. Shelearns by hard experience the fact that other people _do_ see thingsdifferently from us, and that it _does_ make a difference. After all, this is their country, and these are their customs. We cannot expectthem to adjust to ours. It is the foreigner in the strange land whohas to adjust to the ways of that land. 

To learn a new language, the ear must be alert to hear just thatlittle turn with which a sound is pronounced that makes all thedifference between a foreign and a native accent. To become adjustedto a new people, the eye and the heart must be alert to perceiveclearly, to understand and take in their feelings and their reactions. May God grant us the seeing eye and the hearing ear!

 * * * * *

"Oh, they're terribly strict at that Bible school!" someone remarks. "There are rules about how long your dresses must be, and how you mustwear your hair. I wouldn't stand for it! Why, it's things like thatthat give Christianity a bad name!"

Perhaps. At the same time, one who has shown that he is willing togive up his own standards and conform to someone else's, even thoughhe may not see the reason for those standards, has shown an attitudethat will take him a long way on the mission field. The "how I do myhair and what kind of clothes I wear is my own business!" attitude sofrequently met with, both at home and on the field, is not a promisingone. If we have fully given ourselves to Christ, nothing is our ownbusiness--it is all His. 

CHAPTER 5

_The Right to Privacy_

 _"There were many coming and going, and they had no leisure so much as to eat. "_--Mark 6:31

 _"But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion for them. "_--Matthew 9:36

I had just come back from a strenuous month in the country. Mr. AndMrs. Sprightly, the young married couple who were in charge of themission station, and I were relaxing around the tea table. I toldabout the work I had been doing, and answered interested questions. Finally the talk drifted into lighter channels, and Mrs. Sprightlytold a funny incident she had witnessed the previous day in acourtyard down the street when she had been out for a walk with herlittle boy. 

"I always like to have Sonny with me when I go out, " she concluded, philosophically. "When he's along I can stick my nose in anywhere Ilike. All I have to do is to say, 'My little boy wants to see whatthat is, ' and I can wander into their courtyards, or even into theirhouses, and nobody thinks anything about it!"

Curiosity is a common trait, and especially so among those who areuneducated and unsophisticated. Missionaries often find those to whomthey go frankly curious. But, strangely enough, there is something inmany of us that rebels against having one's private life a matter ofcommon knowledge! The one who has grown up without becoming acquaintedwith the meaning of the word _privacy_, on the other hand, may find itimpossible to understand why the missionary desires to be alone oncein awhile!

 * * * * *

The young missionary hears the sound of Chinese music from somewhereup the street. To her ears it is weird and unintelligible, but thechildren at their play instantly recognize the tune, and raise theirvoices in a shout. 

"The new daughter-in-law[2] is coming! The new daughter-in-law iscoming!"

A friendly youngster pokes his head in at the missionary's door. "Wouldn't you like to come and see the new daughter-in-law?" he askspolitely. "The sedan chair is just arriving. Hurry!"

"But--dear me!" protests the missionary. "Whose home is this newdaughter-in-law coming to? Is it a family we are acquainted with?"

"Oh, _that_ doesn't matter!" the boy assures her. "Why, everybody goesto see a new daughter-in-law!"

The missionary, reluctantly allowing herself to be pulled along by thehand, finds it even as the child has said. Crowds of children, andolder people too, are swarming in at the open gateway through whichhas just passed the gaily decorated sedan chair. Though the courtyardis fairly commodious, it is packed with people, talking, gesticulating, pushing to get a better vantage point from which toview the bride when she alights. The groom and his parents aregraciously welcoming invited guests, entirely unconcerned about allthe hubbub. The bridal chair is set down to a great popping offirecrackers, the appointed welcome committee of several girls and oneolder woman draws the curtain and assists the bride to her place inthe yard, and the ceremony proceeds. After it is completed, the brideis escorted with much formality into the house, and to the bedroomprepared for her, where she is seated upon a bed resplendent with redsatin quilts. Then the guests, invited and uninvited, pour into theroom. They subject the bride and her clothes to an interested andcareful scrutiny, commenting upon everything, with much joking andlaughter. As soon as one group gets tired and takes its leave, another is ready to push in and view the "new daughter-in-law. "

"The poor girl!" says the missionary. "She looks ready to drop! Whenwill they ever leave her to herself?"

Not until late that night--and the same performance will start againearly the next morning. Why, if there were not a continuous stream ofvisitors for three days, the wedding would be thought rather a flop!

 * * * * *

The day had been a busy one. The first visitor had appeared beforebreakfast, a precursor of a seemingly never-ending stream. There wereuneducated country women, whose curiosity could only be satisfied bygoing through every room in the missionary's house and minutelyexamining each article that met their eyes. There were those who wereeducated and formally polite, and dexterously steered the conversationinto other channels every time we endeavored to present the claims ofChrist to them. There were Christians, some coming with theirtroubles, others with plans for forwarding the work of the church, andstill others with requests for us to set a time when we could go withthem to call upon their unsaved friends or relatives. 

Finally at four-thirty, after we had ushered out a couple of callers, we returned, for the first time that day, to an empty room. 

"Come, quickly!" I said to my sister. "Let's go out for a walk beforesomeone else comes!" I felt as though I would go crazy if I did notget away--away anywhere, just so it was a place where we could bealone. We hurriedly slipped out the back gate, around the pond, through the back streets, and out the city gate. 

"Which way do you want to go?" my sister asked. 

"Oh, just anywhere into the country, " I said immediately, "where therearen't any people!"

My sister stood stock-still, looking at me in amazement. "Aren't anypeople!" she repeated. "Aren't any people! _Where_ in China do youthink you'll find a place where there aren't any people?"

I stood still and looked around me. The flat countryside was dottedwith villages, and crisscrossed with paths. Farmers were busy plowingtheir tiny fields. Coolies in groups of two and three were returninghome from the city, scattering in all directions along the manyfootpaths. People, people everywhere, even out there in the country!These were the people whom I had come to China to seek; yet if I couldonly get away from them for a few hours! If there were only somewooded gully or mountain thicket where I could be out of sight ofeveryone! But there were no mountains; the country was as flat as atabletop. I mentally searched the familiar countryside for a place ofrefuge. Good, fertile land, cut up into tiny fields; well-kept crops, with not a weed anywhere; here and there a little grove oftrees--surely in among the trees we could be out of sight! But no!There was no undergrowth, no weeds, not even any fallen leaves. Allhad been gathered, carefully dried, and put in the fuel pile. Why, ifa strong wind came up in the night, the owner of the trees would risefrom bed and hurry out to sweep up the precious leaves as soon as theyfell, just so no unscrupulous neighbor could come and steal thembefore daylight! And all the lower branches of the trees had longsince been trimmed off for fuel. A grove of trees would hide me fromthe sight of no one, and there was no better place. 

The full force of an unpleasant fact suddenly hit me, a fact that Ihad never before completely realized. There was absolutely no placethat I could go to be alone! The best that I could do was to go hometo the mission station, into the house, up to my room, and close thedoor. Even then, who knew how soon someone would call me?

Then, in a flash, a little story I had read in a magazine long beforecame to my mind. A friend dropped in to visit a busy mother. Thefamily was large and poor, and they lived in only one room. It seemedto the visitor that the one room was swarming with children. Themother met her with a beaming face. 

"But how can you be so happy, " asked the visitor, "when you can neverget a minute to be alone? How can you find quiet even to pray?"

"It used to trouble me, " was the quick reply, "until I found out thesecret. When things get too much for me, I just throw my apron up overmy head, and I am all alone with the Lord. "

Dear Lord, forgive me! I thought. What about _that_ poor mother? Andwhat about the Lord Jesus? He wanted solitude just as we do, and Hewent with His disciples across the lake to an out-of-the-way spot tobe quiet. The multitudes heard where He was going and followed byland. When He stepped from the boat, there were thousands uponthousands waiting for Him. How did _He_ react? Was there anger in Hisheart, or resentment, at never being allowed to be alone? No; for itsays that when He saw the multitudes, He welcomed them (Luke 9:11). Dear Lord, give me that same heart of love for the multitudes!

 * * * * *

Privacy and solitude are good things, no doubt--in moderation. Mostmissionaries get less of them than they would desire. There areprobably few missionaries who have not been irritated at one time oranother when their houses and their persons were subjected to amazed, or delighted, or even half-contemptuous scrutiny by the curious. _Can't they have the decency to keep out of what is my own privatebusiness?_ the missionary thinks. Yet if we belong to the day, if weare children of light, why should any act of ours, or anythingbelonging to us, need to be hidden in the dark? This is not torecommend a needless parading of things that normal people prefer tobe reserved about. Let us remember, however, that people must come toknow us before they can accept our message, or before our testimonyhas any value to them. Why should I desire to keep hidden _anything_that has to do with myself--_if the sharing of that thing might helpto draw someone to the Saviour?_

FOR YE WERE ONCE DARKNESS, BUT ARE NOW LIGHT IN THE LORD;WALK AS CHILDREN OF LIGHT. --Ephesians 5:8

CHAPTER 6

_The Right to My Own Time_

 "_Come now, ye that say, Today or tomorrow we will go into this city, and spend a year there, and trade, and get gain: whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.... For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall both live, and do this or that. _"--James 4:13-15

"Mrs. Ning and I are going out to see Grandma Woo, who has been sick. Wouldn't you like to come too?"

I was sitting at my desk, with all the paraphernalia of Chinese studyspread out before me. I looked at my desk, looked at the clock, lookedat my sister, and then asked, "How soon will you be back?"

"Oh, we shouldn't be too long! Of course Mrs. Ning walks slowly, withher small[3] feet; but it's only a mile, and we don't need to stayvery long. You never know, but we ought to be home in plenty of timefor dinner. "

Well, I thought to myself, I suppose I ought to go; but I wanted tofinish translating this chapter, and I'll be doing well to get itdone in three hours. And I had thought that I'd get it finished thismorning, and be able to write letters this afternoon. Still--

Unfortunately for my peace of mind, I knew two things. One was that mysister thought that I ought to go, and the other was that she wasright. 

"Well, " I said finally, "I'll go; but let's not stay long. "

We got our sun hats, joined Mrs. Ning, and started off. Her feet werenot more than six inches long, and she _did_ take such tiny steps! Tryas I would to walk slowly, I continually found myself going ahead ofthe other two. My sister by nature is in more of a hurry to get thingsdone than I. Still, here she was, wandering along beside Mrs. Ning asif she had all the time in the world, listening intently to a taleabout Mrs. Ning's third aunt's cousin, and putting in sympatheticinterjections and questions now and then. 

I could not seem to get interested in the story, even though Mrs. Ningwas telling how she had tried to get this third aunt's cousin to bringhis troubles to the Saviour. I could not understand all of what shesaid, and was unable to keep up with all the ins and outs of the poorcousin's troubles, so finally I gave up trying. It was a beautifulday. The sky was blue, and the wheat, high and greenish-gold, rippledin the wind. We turned off the road and followed a little pathrunning through the wheat fields. My sister almost unconsciously beganslipping the full heads of grain through her fingers, one after theother, as she passed. She always loved the wheat, and so did I, butsomehow today I did not want to touch it. I only wished that we wouldhurry. 

At last we arrived at the village, and made our way to the home of oldMrs. Woo. As usual, a crowd of dirty, staring youngsters followed usinto the house. We sat on benches that were about eight inches wide, and sipped "tea" that could be called so only by courtesy; since, having no tea leaves, they had instead just put a few slices of rawsweet potato into the kettle when it went on the fire. Old Mrs. Woowas up and around again, and feeling lively. 

"I'm so glad you've come! I've been telling my neighbors all about theLord Jesus, and how they ought to believe in Him, but I'm afraid Idon't do it quite right. Now that you've come you can tell them! Here, you, Kitten, " speaking to one of the crowd of children that hadfollowed us into the house, "you run home and get your grandma tocome. And you, Girlie, your second great-aunt said that she wanted tobelieve. Run fast and tell her that the teachers have come. All of youyoungsters, you scoot home as fast as you can and get your mothers andgrandmothers to come and listen to the doctrine!"

It took quite a lot of persuasion to get the children to go; andperhaps the mothers and grandmothers were busy. We waited in vain forquite awhile, but finally in came three or four women, one with acloth shoe sole she was quilting, and another carrying a baby. Afterquite a bustle, they were all seated and given bowls of tea. Then outcame the poster that my sister always carried, and the Gospel wasexplained to them in very simple words. With great effort I managed tokeep my mind on the message, and understood most of it. Icongratulated myself internally. At last I had successfully wrested mymind from the absorbing but uncomfortable subject of all the thingsthat I had wanted to get done that day!

The preaching was finished. The women got up to go, assuring us thatthey would come with Mrs. Woo to church the next Sunday. We got uptoo, and started to say good-by. 

"What! Go home!" said Mrs. Woo. "Who could think of such a thing! Ofcourse you'll stay for dinner with me! Why, it's almost ready!" (Weknew perfectly well that the only womenfolk in the family were herselfand her daughter-in-law, and that neither had left the room since thetea had been brought in. )

My sister and Mrs. Ning protested, and even I managed to add a fewpolite words. But my thoughts were not so courteous. Stay for dinner!What an idea! Why, that would mean that we would not be home beforethe middle of the afternoon at the earliest! And besides, the mealwould probably be some miserable stuff that I could hardly force down!Oh, well, likely she was only asking us in order to be polite, and didnot really mean it!

With great difficulty we made our way toward the door. Mrs. Woo andher daughter-in-law hung on us until we could hardly move, protestingloudly that they would not think of letting us leave. My blood beganto boil. I guess we had the right to go home when we wanted to! Theywere actually trying to force us to stay! Well, I would not stay inany case now! This was just too much!

We had reached the open door, and just then caught sight of an oldwoman hobbling rapidly across the yard toward us. 

"Oh, Girlie's second great-aunt!" called Mrs. Woo. "Here you are atlast! Why didn't you come sooner?"

"Well, I had company, and I just couldn't get away. But finally mydaughter-in-law came back, and I left them with her and came asquickly as I could. I was so afraid that the teachers would be gone. But, oh, surely you're not leaving?"

"Oh, no, of course they're not leaving! You don't think that I wouldlet them come under my roof and not keep them to a meal! It will benothing like they're used to, of course; but still a meal is a meal!Now, just sit down, teachers, please, and Mrs. Ning. Girlie's secondgreat-aunt has wanted to believe for some time, but her son is verymean to her, and he won't let her go to church. Do you think that shecould believe at home?"

I could not believe my eyes. My sister and Mrs. Ning sat downobediently and began to talk very sympathetically with the old womanwho had just come. What! Were they actually going to stay to dinner?And not a word to me, just as if what I wanted did not matter at all!_They_ could talk to this old lady, and tell her about the Lord, butall _I_ could do was just sit! Of course I was supposed to listen; butone could not put her brain to listening to this queer Chinese _all_day long! And what about all those things that I had wanted to getdone?

The dinner was no better than I expected. In fact, it was worse. Girlie's second great-aunt stayed too, upon urging, and they alltalked on and on. They were trying to teach her a little prayer, andshe was so stupid! Over and over and over, and still she could not sayit by herself. 

Finally, when I had given up all hope--I had sat in stony silence allthe afternoon--we got up, made our farewells, and started home. Thesun was setting as we entered our front gate. I was tired (why, I didnot know; I had not done a thing all day), hungry (I had not been ableto eat much of the dinner, no matter how it had been urged upon me), and disgusted. And the worst of it was that it did not seem to bothermy sister a particle. She took it all as a matter of course. Was thiswhat I was going to have to go through; what I had come to China for?For I began slowly to realize that today's experience was not just oneisolated incident; it was likely to happen any day in the year. Something was wrong somewhere. What?

Suddenly it came over me. It was only that I had had my day allplanned out, and did not want my plans interfered with. Because theyhad been interfered with, I had done nothing but sulk. All the thingsI might have enjoyed I had not enjoyed at all. I had made myselfmiserable for a whole day, just because my time had been disposed ofby someone else, and not by me. 

"Dear Lord, " I said, "I'm not going to go through this again! I knowit was really You who disposed of my day when I wanted to do somethingelse with it! Give me an open mind, Lord, so that whenever I go to thecountry, whenever I start a new day, I'll be able to accept whatevercomes, and rejoice in it!"

It is amazing how much difference a little thing like one's mentalattitude can make. After that, when I went to the country, I nevertook with me any preconceived notions of what time I would return. Imight get back home for my noon meal, or I might get back by sunset, or I might even stay overnight--what difference did it make? My timebelonged to the Lord, and it was up to Him to dispose of it. I foundthat with this attitude of mind I could go anywhere, take advantage ofany opportunities offered, stay more time or less time than I hadexpected, and still enjoy every moment, because God had planned it, and had worked it out in the best possible way. [4]

CHAPTER 7

_The Right to a Normal Romance, If Any_

I was in the CIM Mission Home in Vancouver, B. C. , an acceptedcandidate. In two more weeks I was to sail for China, the land wherethree of my sisters were already laboring as missionaries. One hadbeen out for six years, had been married while on the field, and wasalmost ready for furlough. The other two sisters had been out ashorter period. They were both single, and stationed together. Thatday I had received a letter from them written from a little hillresort operated by our Mission, where they and others had gone toescape the worst of the summer heat. Now, for missionaries, a summerresort is the most common place for a romance to develop! The letterwas a gay description of their life there, and ended with thefollowing sentence:

"There are thirty-three of us here now: seven married couples withnine children, nine single ladies, and one single man! There is onemore single man expected, we hear, but even at that, I'm afraid thereisn't much hope for us!"

The dinner bell rang, and I hurried down. But who was that elderlycouple in the old-fashioned clothes? Perhaps I had been told that theywere to arrive that day, but if so I had not remembered it. They wereintroduced all around the circle--missionaries who had just come fromChina! We sat down, and I found myself beside the lady. 

"What did they say your name was?" she asked, apologetically. "I havesuch a time remembering names. "

I told her, and she immediately pricked up her ears. "Williamson!" shesaid. "Don't you have a sister in China?"

"Yes, I have three there, " I replied. 

"Well, isn't that a coincidence! When I was in Shanghai I heard--no, you couldn't have heard it yet, for the news was just out--I'm _sure_it must have been your sister! Anyway, just before we left Shanghaithere was a great hubbub about the news of a new engagement, and I'malmost certain--Dear, " turning to her husband, "who was it that weheard was engaged, just before we left Shanghai?"

Her husband did not remember. "Well, I'm almost sure it was yoursister, anyway!" she declared. 

"My sister! But it couldn't be!" I replied rather dazedly, thinking ofthe letter I had just received. "Which one? What was her first name?"

Unfortunately she could not remember that, nor did she know thatthere were two Miss Williamsons in China. And as for the name of theman--she had no idea about that, either. The whole thing seemedextremely vague, and altogether unlikely, and I dismissed it from mymind. 

A week later I received another letter from my two sisters. To myamazement I read the news that the younger of them had just becomeengaged to the single man who had arrived at the hill resort the dayafter the previous letter was written!

After I had partly recovered from the shock, my mind went back to whatI had heard of the courtship of my married sister, also in China. Theman who later became her husband was stationed at a place a thousandmiles from where she was. They had been very slightly acquainted whenthey were in Bible institute in America, six or seven years before. Suddenly he started writing to her, and after two or three letters, asked her to marry him. When she went down to Shanghai for thewedding, practically all she knew of him was from his letters. 

The other sister, who went with her at that time, told me later thatwhen they went to the railway station in Shanghai to meet the expectedgroom, who did not arrive until the day after they did, she almost hadheart failure. After they went to bed that night she could not go tosleep for thinking, "What if she shouldn't want to marry him, nowthat she's seen him! I'm sure _I_ wouldn't!"

Succeeding days set her mind at rest, however, for it was quiteevident that the promised bride _did_ want to marry him--and so itturned out all right after all!

 * * * * *

"What a strange family you come from!" you say. "Your sisters rushinto marriage in such a precipitous way!"

No, not at all. Such courtships are fairly common among missionaries. The reason for this is obvious. There is very little opportunity onthe mission field for becoming acquainted with eligible persons of theopposite sex. Unless the missionary is prepared to give up his callingin order to marry, his range of choice is necessarily limited to othermissionaries; and missionaries, when at work, are usually widelyscattered. Most of our mission stations had only one household, withonly two, three, or four missionaries. Obviously, it would not be verylikely that two single workers of opposite sex would be included inthe group; to say nothing of the fact that such an allocation ofworkers would normally be considered highly unconventional! Usuallysingle women workers were sent to one station, and a man (or men, ifthere were that many) to another. Missionary travel, except for goingto a summer resort, was usually confined to one's own district, andmissionaries working outside that district met very infrequently. 

Another factor that must be taken into consideration is therestriction which local custom puts upon social mingling of the sexesin heathen lands. Most missionaries live in near contact with thepeople, and it is only right that they should do so. The missionarywho prefers to withdraw from the people is not likely to make manyconverts. Local people, both Christian and heathen, are encouraged tocome freely into the missionary's home, and much of his work may bedone by just such quiet contacts. The missionaries come in asstrangers. They present a new way of life. Is it any wonder that, asmuch as is possible, everything that they do is watched? Sometimes thewatching is in order to criticize; sometimes it is in order toimitate; but always they are watched. If what the watchers see seemsgood to them, they may give themselves to the One about whom themissionaries preach. If they see things that offend them, they maystumble and turn away. Because of this, local conventions _must_ betaken into consideration; and in many heathen lands what we would callonly ordinary friendliness between two persons of opposite sex wouldbe looked upon not only with disapproval, but even with suspicion. 

Mission rules in regard to such matters are usually very strict, asthe following quotation from _The Overseas Manual of the China InlandMission Overseas Missionary Fellowship_ (1955) will show!

 It is important that the missionary in his daily life among Eastern peoples should maintain a standard of dignity and courtesy which is essentially Christian and not merely Western. It must be remembered that a careless disregard of local conventions will give offense to nationals whose good opinion is of value, and may prove a serious hindrance to the progress of the Gospel. Great care should be taken particularly by lady workers when extending hospitality to missionary brethren or _vice versa_, lest any action lead to misunderstanding and injury to the work. Engaged couples should also be especially careful of their deportment, remembering that they will be setting a standard of behavior for young Christians no longer bound by old conventions and looking, perhaps, for guidance to their missionary friends.... Engaged couples will not be designated to work in the same center (pp. 21, 22). 

So, between the limitation that a narrow circle of eligibleacquaintances sets, and the restriction entailed in conforming tolocal custom, young missionaries may often feel that the chance forany normal kind of romance is snatched from them. Small wonder thatthe summer resort and the post office, the two avenues of courtshipleft open to them, are speedily utilized, and that engagements areoften made on what would seem at home to be too short acquaintance!If _you_ knew that you had only a few weeks in which to become betteracquainted and do your courting, and that when those few weeks hadpassed each would return to his own station, with no opportunity ofmeeting again for at least another year, perhaps you would speedthings up too!

If the choice of a life partner were a matter to be decided purely "onone's own, " then this sort of situation on the mission field mightlead to many a tragedy. Thank God, that is not the case! After all, Heis the One whom we want to make the choice for us, and He can bedepended upon. Certainly any young missionary should make this amatter of definite prayer. If God has chosen the two for each other, He will see to it that they meet; and He will bear witness in theirhearts as to His leading, so that they need not hesitate or fear. Ifwe set our hearts on some certain thing, irrespective of whether ornot it is His will, disaster will result. If we commit the matterentirely to Him, and trust Him to work out His own perfect will, wecan go ahead, with confidence, knowing that the union (if He indicatesit) will be as the path of the just, that "shineth more and more untothe perfect day. " If anyone doubts this, let him look at anymissionary couple. In spite of all the difficulties and dangers, thepercentage of happily married couples must be greater amongmissionaries than it is anywhere else!

To any thinking young person, another problem, not yet discussed, mustbe evident. If there are twice as many single women as single men onthe mission field (and there are), some of the women must either marrymen who are not missionaries, and so leave the field, or else remainsingle. The shortage of men on the mission field is often deplored, and it is true that in many cases the work would be better off with alarger proportion of men. I shall always remember, however, hearingone of my sisters say: "Before I came to the mission field I thoughtthat the reason there were more women than men on the field was thatmore of the women were wholly consecrated to the cause of Christ; butafter I had been out for some time I changed my mind. Now I believethat God calls more women than men because _more women are needed_. "

The army of unmarried women missionaries on the field is there, notbecause there happen to be more women than men on the field, and, since we do not believe in polygamy, some were left over; but becausethere is a work that they can do that no one else can. Most men needwives, and the fact that a man has a wife and family is more of a helpthan a hindrance in most types of missionary work. A man missionarycan leave his family for weeks or months, and even though married, hecan engage in the arduous itineration that is often necessary. But amarried woman missionary, as soon as she becomes a mother, is bound toher children, and that usually means that she bound to her home. Shecan engage in missionary work in the place where she lives, but shecannot travel easily. She cannot go out for weeks or months with awomen's evangelistic band. She cannot go from church to church, holding Bible classes for the women. In many places, when teams of menworkers go about, the women are left almost untouched. There must bewomen workers to reach the women. There is plenty of work for themarried woman missionary to engage in; but there are certain types ofwork which her responsibilities will not allow her to undertake. 

"That's the type of work I want to do!" declares one young woman. "Tospend weeks and months in the country villages, living in the people'shomes and really becoming one with them--that's the only work thatcounts! _I_ shall never be married. "

"Oh, " says another, "I'm sure there is much work a married woman cando that would be impossible to the single woman. Anyway, I wasn't cutout for a spinster! It doesn't matter if there _are_ only half as manymen as women; _some_ of the women get married, and I'll be one of the'some. '"

Well, friends, both of you are wrong. It's not up to you to say whatsort of work you want to do, and it's not up to you to say whether youwill be married, or one of the single crowd. Since most girls want tobe married, it is a good thing for each to face the possibility thatGod _might_, for a reason, want her to remain single; but that doesnot mean that I am encouraging anyone to take a vow of celibacy! Iknow of one young woman missionary who told various fellow workers, and even some of the local Christians, that she was never going to getmarried. The Lord began to deal with her--at the same time that ayoung man was laying siege to her heart! She finally surrendered tothe Lord, and gave up her cherished dreams of the kind of missionarycareer she had mapped out for herself. A few years later she was ahappy missionary wife and mother!

Most of the above is particularly directed to young women, but it mayapply to young men as well. In a limited number of cases it may benecessary for men to remain single, particularly those who engage inpioneer work of a sort that would be impossible for women. Thisprobably means giving up anything that could rightly be called a"home. " Even where two single men are together, "batching it" isusually a sorry business; but when the call of the Lord comes, He willgive grace. In that respect it is much easier for women. Twounmarried women can live together and make a home that seems like ahome; most men do not seem to have that gift!

The advantages and disadvantages of the single woman missionary, asover and against those of the married woman (or vice versa) are oftendebated. The single woman certainly has the advantage in being able togive all her time and energy to the work, though the married woman cangive help to married women in a way that an unmarried woman cannot. Itis not a matter for anyone to decide arbitrarily. Remember that "eachman hath his own gift from God, one after this manner, and anotherafter that" (I Cor. 7:7). Whatever God has called us to do, we _can_do. Each state has its own blessings. When one sees the "trouble inthe flesh" (I Cor. 7:28, K. J. V. ) that bringing up children on themission field entails, [5] it is almost enough to make one feel thatthe single state is the easier. It _is_ easier in some ways, ofcourse. Yet remaining single is not easy either. Every human heartlongs for someone to "belong to, " and perhaps the hardest thing thatthe single missionary has to face is that she can never, never say toanyone, "I'm going to stay with you. "

CHAPTER 8

_The Right to a Normal Home Life_

 "After marriage a lady worker continues to be a missionary in active service and her changed status will afford new opportunities for service. She will need rightly to apportion time to language study, home duties and her calling as a missionary. This will require changes in outlook and habits, but if the responsibilities of married life have been prayerfully accepted the varying claims on time and strength will not result in a permanent conflict of loyalties. 

 "The establishing of a Christian home should be for the glory of God and the spread of the Gospel. One danger to be avoided is that of missionaries becoming so absorbed in their home as to neglect an active ministry amongst the people to whom they have been called. It is the mutual responsibility of both husband and wife to see that each does not hinder the other from fulfilling his or her ministry. Where there are children, it is recognized that new responsibilities are involved, but care should be taken that family claims do not monopolize the time and energies of either parent. Children who grow up in an atmosphere of loving yet firm discipline are not only a joy to their parents but an asset to the work of the Gospel. But when children are over-indulged or uncontrolled, whether on the field or at home, serious harm to God's cause as well as to the reputation of the Mission may result. "

 _--The Overseas Manual of the China Inland Mission Overseas Missionary Fellowship_ (1955), p. 22. 

What a wonderful thing is a Christian home! What a privilege to beable to establish, among thousands of darkened, pagan homes, one thatis truly Christian; and to be able to live out the love of Christ inactual family relationships before people who know nothing of it!

This privilege has not been given to me. The Lord has not led me inthat path. And yet, as I have observed many young couples on themission field, and older ones too, I have been able to see a little ofthe price they have had to pay. The outsider, looking on, saw only thelove and blessing that radiated from these homes. But as I lived insome of them, I found that these young couples were faced withconstant problems, and even frustrations, and I wondered whether ornot I could have overcome all obstacles in the gallant way in whichthey did. 

Shall we take a look at the sort of thing a young married couple onthe mission field has to face? We will call them John and Mary, andmake them just ordinary folk who meet the kind of situations mostyoung missionaries meet. 

 * * * * *

A home of her own--that was what Mary longed for. She and John hadbeen married a few months before leaving for the field, had studiedfor a term in language school, and now were living with an oldermarried couple until their acquaintance with the language and thecustoms of the people was enough to warrant their being sent to astation of their own. Mary found the language easy, but John found ithard; and they had been on the field for more than two years beforetheir desire for a home of their own was realized. It was just as wellfor Mary that she was quick with the language. Little David was bornwhen they had been out only a year, and looking after David meant thatshe had several hours less each day for study than John had. 

When they finally got to their new station, they were surprised tofind that long, uninterrupted hours for language study, which theystill needed, were almost impossible. There was a little church in theplace to which they had been sent, and of course they wanted to dowhat they could, with their limited language, to help. They found alanguage teacher, but he was not as good as their previous one. Maryhad a girl to help her in the house, but she was untrained, and forthe first few months Mary thought that it was more work training herthan it would have been to do the work herself. They had manyvisitors, both Christians and others. John loved to sit and talk withthe men who came, and although his facility in the use of the spokenlanguage developed, the progress he made in the book work required bythe course of study was extremely slow. Mary often longed to shoo themen visitors out the door, lead John into his study, set him down athis desk, and shut him in with his books!

With the care of the baby and the responsibility for the homedevolving upon her, it was a good thing that Mary did enjoy study. Sheoften said that she thought the Lord gave her, as a young mother, special help with the language, because He knew how much she had todo! Because she was so busy, however, she often sat up later at nightover her books than was good for her health, and she became tired andworn out. The flu came along, and she was an easy victim. Poor John!He had to be nurse, housekeeper, and baby-tender, all at the sametime. The thing that worried Mary the most about being ill was thatshe was keeping John from his studies. 

Mary was not entirely back to normal health when David's little sisterwas born. What a darling she was! Before her illness, Mary had beengiving a short Bible talk at the women's meeting every other week;but now it seemed impossible to find time for the hours of preparationsuch a talk entailed. Because of her slow recovery it was finallydecided that she and the children must go to a hill resort earlierthan usual that summer. When she returned, she was horrified torealize that it had been six months since she had given a message inthe native language. 

She was feeling much better in every way, however, and settled down to"get back into the work. " The girl who helped her had developednicely, and now the two children could be entrusted to her care. Inspite of John's slowness at the language, he had always been able tomake himself understood, and the little church was growing. With hisencouragement, they had started a preaching band, and went to nearbytowns and villages with the Gospel. Sometimes they stayed away forseveral weeks at a time. They insisted that John accompany them; andindeed, he would not have been happy anywhere else. But more and moreMary found herself left alone at home with the children. Where was thehappy home that she had wanted to establish for John? He was as dearand as kind as ever when she saw him--but he was away so much! Andduring the times he was at home, there were often visitors to see him. On evenings when there were no visitors she always longed to say, "Come and sit in the easy chair, John, and we'll have a cozy timetogether, " but her Puritan conscience usually overcame the promptingsof her heart, and instead she would look at the clock and saybrightly, "Oh, there's still time for you to get in an hour or two ofstudy! Isn't that nice!"

The time passed rapidly. John _did_ persevere with his language study, and very slowly got off the required examinations. Mary never had asmuch time as he did for study, but she usually kept ahead of him inthe book work. She did not dream of trying to rival him in hisknowledge of the spoken colloquial! At first she used to save up herproblems for him to deal with, but she found that when he returnedfrom a country trip he was always so tired that she did not like toburden him, and soon she was struggling alone with most of them. Thechildren grew rapidly, and usually kept in health, although there wereseveral occasions when they had serious illnesses. At such times shewould realize afresh that, although the nearest fully qualified doctorwas several days' journey away, the Great Physician was always near!

When David was four, two new missionaries, fresh from their term atlanguage school, were sent to be with them--two bright, happy girls, whom Mary welcomed with all her heart. The care of the largerhousehold took more time, but she did not grudge it. One was quick atthe language, and one was slow. When the discouraged one would comewith her troubles, Mary would comfort her by telling her that John hadbeen slow too! The two girls became very fond of the children. Marywas almost overscrupulous about not allowing them to disturb the two, who were supposed to be giving all their time and effort to languagestudy. The quick one, Alice, raced through two language exams, andthen had a week in the country with the women's evangelistic team(organized a year previously, Mary being one of the chief promoters). It was what Mary had longed to do herself ever since the band wasstarted, but--well, she had her babies! After all, they _were_ themost precious children in the world! But when Alice returned, bubblingover with the novelties and thrills of a week in the country(fortunately she was not afflicted with a delicate digestion, andcould eat anything with relish--and comfort!), poor Mary, had all shecould do to "rejoice with them that do rejoice. " Afterward, in theprivacy of her own room (John was not at home, and the children wereasleep), she finally let go, and the sobs came--stifled by thebedclothes, so that the children would not be awakened. 

And then it was time for furlough! The homeland seemed strange atfirst, but they soon got used to things. Everyone was extremely kind, and showered them with gifts. The meeting with loved ones and friendswas all that they had expected; but the strain of living with theirchildren in other people's homes (even though they were the homes oftheir own dear ones) made things difficult. The relatives constantlypetted the children, and discipline became a problem. Finally theywere able to get an apartment of their own for a few months, and Davidstarted kindergarten. John was constantly in demand as a deputationspeaker, and he traveled back and forth, speaking in many places. Sometimes Mary thought, with a sigh, that she saw less of him onfurlough than she had on the field!

Certainly they were having a wonderful time at home, but still itwould be nice to get back to the field again! Then, with the thought, came a stab of pain--for she knew that when that time arrived it wouldmean sending little David off to school. The school for missionaries'children was a long way from their part of the field, and the mostthey could hope for after that was to have David during the summers, and on their furloughs. Her little David! Going so far from home, among strangers! Perhaps she could keep him awhile, and teach him athome. If only the leaders of the Mission were not so strict aboutinsisting that all children of school age be sent to the school formissionaries' children! What did they know of a mother's love for herlittle boy? But before this thought was fully formed, her heart wasreproving her. Of course they knew. Most of them had children of theirown. It was all for the children's good. She had no training forteaching, and look how busy she had always been! Wherever did shethink she would get time to teach David?

Besides, her mind ran on, David needed to be with other children ofhis own age and race, and to get the "give-and-take" that school lifeprovides. Kindergarten had already been a help. And on the field therewere so many other difficulties! While they were still there, she hadtried her best not to let David feel that he was different from, orsuperior to, the children he played with; but she just couldn't lethim do all the things that they did. And he had always wanted to know, why--why couldn't he wipe his nose on the back of his hand, as all theother children did? Why did he have to go to bed at a certain hour, when all the other children stayed up as long as they wished? Shecertainly had never said, "It's because you are an American, and weare different, " but somehow David had seemed to acquire that sort ofattitude, and to feel that he was superior to the local children. Shestill remembered how helpless she had felt in trying to deal with thesituation!

Well, it did seem that sending him away to school would be necessaryif he were not to grow up proud and overbearing. Then too, sheremembered the day she had to spank him because he had become angryand shouted at one of his little playmates in very filthy language. Where had he learned those words? (He had picked up the language, goodand bad alike, without even trying!) She wouldn't even have known whatthe words meant, but she had overheard the Bible woman scolding him, and had gone out to see what was wrong. The Bible woman hadn't wantedto tell her, but she would not be satisfied until she did. No, if herboy was going to learn filth like that by being inland with her, therewas no help for it--he must go to school. "Dear Lord, " she prayed, "You know what's best, and I suppose he's got to go; but, oh, Father, it's like tearing my heart out to send him!"

The time came. John and Mary went back to the field. David went off toschool, bravely choking down the sobs, but with a pathetic, lost lookin his eyes that stabbed his parents' hearts. They tried to forget it, and to rejoice in the thought of soon meeting again the dear group ofChristians in their old station. But, no! A sudden call came, anurgent call to a hard place, in an entirely different part of thefield. After much discussion and prayer, it was settled. There was nochance to go to their old station, even for a visit. Soon they werefar away, among strangers, living in two rented rooms, and trying tostraighten out a very difficult church situation, the like of whichthey had never before experienced. 

 * * * * *

Stories end, but life goes on and on. And the human mind always seemsto magnify the present difficulties, and glamorize the possiblefuture. John and Mary thought that they had it rather hard their firstterm, and that the second would be easier; but when the second termactually began, and they looked back on the first, they thought it hadbeen nothing but child's play!

Looking at that first term objectively, we can see that John and Maryreally did have a relatively easy time. For one thing, they lived inonly two places all that time. For one reason or another missionariesoften have to move time and again. Someone who is doing an absolutelyindispensable job breaks down and must go home on furlough, and youare the only one who can take over. Or the work is being expanded, andthe older workers are scattered farther afield as new ones come in. Perhaps there is a war, and your station is in the fighting area, andyou have to evacuate. Whatever the reason is, suddenly you findyourself in the midst of breaking up your home, packing and moving, and then settling in a new place, finding new people and problemswith which to get acquainted, and perhaps a new dialect to learn. 

Other things had been comparatively easy for John and Mary too, thatfirst term. They did not have any fellow workers who were "difficult. "It was not their lot to start work in virgin territory, or where thepeople were unfriendly. They did not get into any difficult churchsituations. The church people were eager to co-operate with them, andquick to profit by their teaching and example. Even in the matter ofhealth, they did not have a more than average amount of illness. Andthe story of their accomplishments during that first term could trulybe used as a model for the young missionary's emulation!

This is not to say that John and Mary had no difficulties. Difficulties are the normal thing on the mission field, and they hadtheir share. But they met their difficulties, and they made good. How?Chiefly by giving up some of their "rights, " and foremost among therights they gave up was their chance for a normal home life. There wasrarely an evening when John was at home and without a visitor; and ifsuch an evening came, he spent it at his books. Later he was away fromhome for days and weeks, so that the home had to function without thefather much of the time. John had to give up his right to spend anormal amount of time with his wife and children. Even Mary could notspend as much time with the children as she would have liked, norarrange things for them as she might have wished. And then, after thefirst few years, their home was not theirs alone. Most of the timethey had other people living with them. All the way through they hadto put the Lord's work first, and their home second. 

Yet was not this attitude of self-sacrifice the thing that made theirhome a real Christian home? If they had put their home first, not thework--if that home had become a self-centered thing, a thing enjoyedfor its own sake--would it not have failed to be what they wanted itto be? A home that is absorbed in itself is not a truly Christianhome. John was willing to be away so much, and to sacrifice so much, because his love for his Master was the all-consuming passion of hislife. It was for exactly that reason that his presence--and even theconsciousness of his absence, and the reason for it--did bless thathome. John and Mary gladly took others into their home, really wantingthem, not because they did not appreciate having their own home tothemselves, but because their concern for the work was greater thantheir natural desires. They counted the cost, and sent their childaway from them, away to school, because they knew that it was best forthe child and best for the work. Love for Christ was greater than lovefor home, or for children, and greater even than love for each other. If they had held on to their right to home, and given it first place, that would have meant losing it--losing the Christ-centered home thatthey wanted. But in giving it up they found it--found a home thattruly showed forth the love of Christ, because that love was thecompelling force of their individual lives. 

CHAPTER 9

_The Right to Live With the People of My Choice_

The six months of language school were almost over. Exams had been theorder of the day. In spite of the fact that the results of theirlabors were not yet known, half a dozen young women gathered in thedormitory to celebrate with a cocoa party. Some were sprawled on thebeds, one was seated on the floor, and another two were presiding overthe concoction simmering on a tiny, smoky kerosene stove. 

"You know, I couldn't sleep a wink last night!" declared one. "I wasthinking about Mr. Gibb[6] coming to appoint us to stations, andwondering what my senior worker will be like, and I got so worried Istayed awake all night!"

"You know the Lord is working it all out! We've been praying about itfor so long! You shouldn't worry about it!" reproved another gently. 

"Well, I tried, but the more I tried, the wider awake I got. "

"You _are_ foolish!" put in another. "Mr. Gibb isn't even coming untiltomorrow, and then who knows how soon _you_ will have your interviewwith him. It will take him several days they say, and your name beginswith _T_. "

"It's all right for you to talk!" retorted the first girl. "You have asister out here, and you're taking it for granted that you'll be sentto her. Of course you're all right! But what about the rest of us whohave to be separated, and sent off to live with entire strangers? Howdo I know whether my senior worker will _like_ me or not?"

"_You_ don't need to worry, " put in the quiet voice of a girl who hadnot spoken before. "You are gay and lively, and everybody likes you. I'm quiet and awkward, and never know what to say. I'm sure my seniorworker will be disappointed when she gets me!"

"Just listen to me a minute!" another voice spoke up. "I'll tell youthe one way out of this difficulty. Everybody wants a congenial fellowworker. Well, there's only one way to be sure, and that is--pick yourown! That's what I'm going to do!"

"Don't be stupid!" clamored three or four voices at once. "Pick yourown! Just as if we'd be allowed to pick our own senior workers! Whatare you talking about?"

"Just what I said. I'm picking my own senior worker! Of course I maynot be able to do it right away--I may have to live with one that Mr. Gibb picks for me for a year or two--but I'm getting the one I'vepicked for myself in the end!"

At that juncture two girls jumped upon the speaker, and rolled herfrom the bed to the floor. "Just because you are engaged you don'tneed to think you are better than we are!" and the serious discussionbroke up with a laugh. 

 * * * * *

With whom am I going to live and work for the next six months? For thenext six years? For the rest of my life? Who will be the one I willsee the first thing in the morning, and the last thing at night, andall the time in between? With whom will I sit down at the table threetimes a day? Who will be my fellow worker, my companion in recreation, the one who spends time with me at the Throne of Grace, pleading forsouls, and for the upbuilding of God's Church? Yes, it's quite aquestion. For somehow, mission boards usually seem to recognize onlyone legitimate reason for allowing a missionary to choose his or herown fellow worker, and that one reason is marriage. Even marriedcouples will probably be asked to take one or more younger workersinto their homes; and if you are one who remains single, why, you willjust have to let the superintendent, or committee, pick yourcompanion and fellow worker for you. 

When I was in high school it was one of my ambitions to learn to be athome in any environment. Whether a wealthy home or a poverty-strickenone, whether an American culture or the culture of some other group, Iwanted to be able to live in that environment as though I had grown upin it. This ambition was no doubt laudable and its attainment is veryuseful to the missionary. I found later, however, that it does notquite go to the heart of the problem. My ambition at present is not somuch to be able to live happily in any _environment_ as to be able tolive happily with any other _missionary_. 

This statement may horrify some of my readers. If I had said I make itmy ambition to be able to live happily with anyone, you would have hadno bone to pick with me. But no, I _must_ say, _with any othermissionary_! Am I trying to imply that some missionaries are hard tolive with? That class of God's devoted servants who have given up allto go for Him to the far corners of the earth? Let anyone else be hardto get along with, but surely not missionaries!

Well, missionaries (excepting some feeble folk like me) are the saltof the earth. At the same time, my experience on the foreign fieldleads me to the conclusion that it takes a good deal more grace tolive happily with one's fellow workers on the foreign field than itdoes at home. Why? The reasons are varied. I think I can safely saythat most missionaries are rather strong-minded. If they were not, perhaps they would never have gotten to the foreign field! They knowwhat they want to do, and they know how they want to do it. Mostmissionaries will agree on the task to be accomplished; but what arethe best means to accomplish it--that is not always so easy to agreeupon! The older worker may think the younger worker's plans wild andimpracticable. The younger worker may think the older worker stodgyand in a rut. Perhaps both may be right. Happy the fellow workers whocan learn to discuss their pet ideas without heat! Happy the fellowworkers who can develop just the right combination of initiative andco-operation!

It is hard to realize how closely one is shut up to a fellow worker onthe mission field. Probably there are no others of your own race inthe place where you live. At home one can live with one group, workwith another, and have special friends that are entirely apart fromeither group. On the field there is no one else--no one who speaksyour native tongue, understands your background, or has the samepattern of thought as yourself. Perhaps you are stationed with oneother worker. Every human heart longs for some special friend; butthis fellow worker may not be one you would have chosen for a specialfriend. Perhaps she has some mannerisms that are irritating to you. Perhaps you like dogs and she hates them. Perhaps she believes inbeing extremely economical and you like to spend money more freely. Insome ways, as two single missionaries live and work together, therelation is as close as that between husband and wife; but in thiscase the two _have not chosen one another_. Of course the relationshipis not established for life; and the missionary who finds herselfpaired off with an uncongenial fellow worker may console herself byhoping that a change will come soon. That frame of mind, however, isnot exactly conducive to the sort of adjustment that would make forthe most effective carrying on of the work. 

Even married couples will feel this to a certain extent. A youngmarried couple will probably have to live with an older couple for thefirst two or three years on the field. Owing perhaps to the shortageof men, and perhaps to other reasons, it even happens that sometimes ayoung married couple is sent to live for their "breaking-in" periodwith one or two older single lady missionaries! The initial periodpasses, and they are given a home and a work of their own. But theyare not likely to be left alone long. Younger workers will be comingalong, and most married couples are rarely without other workersliving in their homes. Besides this, it is likely that the husbandwill need to be away from home for weeks and even months at a time, leaving the wife at home with the little ones and the junior workers. 

The single worker feels the force of this even more strongly. Two goodfriends _may_ be placed in a station together; or what is more likely, two who have been placed together may become especially good friends. The fact that they are good friends, however, cannot be a reason forplacing them together, nor for leaving them together. Any of us wouldrealize that. The placing of workers is determined by the bestinterests of the work. If, when the best interests of the work areconsidered, it seems right to place two special friends together, orto leave them together, well and good. If not, why, that's the end ofit!

Not being able to choose my own fellow worker will present twopossible difficulties for me. One is that I may be placed with someonewho does not appeal to me. The other is that I may be separated fromsomeone with whom I strongly desire to remain. The first difficulty isone that comes along now and then. Probably most missionaries, at onetime or another, have had a period of living with someone with whomthey did not seem to "hit it off. " The second difficulty is, for theunmarried worker at least, of much more common occurrence. Over andover again it happens. Just when you and someone else have livedtogether long enough to rub off the rough corners, and come to a placewhere you really "fit, " along comes an upheaval, and you areseparated. We like to put down roots. We like to make friends and staywith them, but on the mission field frequent change of location and offellow workers is the normal thing. New personnel is constantly beingadded, and older workers are constantly retiring. New stations areconstantly being opened. And the single worker, time and time again, finds herself being separated from a fellow worker with whom she wouldprefer to remain permanently!

Some will notice that I have been using pronouns in the femininegender. This is not without reason, since by far the majority ofsingle workers on the field are women. And, as has been said, one ofthe hardest things the single woman worker must face is that she cannever say to anyone, "I'm going to stay with you. "

 * * * * *

"What a negative sort of outlook!" exclaims someone; and we must thankthat one for reminding us that there is a _positive_ side. There isOne whom we _may_ choose for our Companion. (How amazing that I shouldbe allowed to _choose Him_!) And it is just because we have alreadychosen the one Companion who will not leave us that we may not chooseanyone else--not even a husband or wife--without reference to Him. Assoon as we choose Him, then He does all our choosing for us. 

According to old Oriental custom, marriages were arranged by parentswith the aid of a middleman. Sometimes when things went wrong aftermarriage one of the couple, or both, would blame the middleman. Whenmarriages are made after the Western pattern, there is no one to blamebut oneself. Before I left America I used to think that marriagesarranged by parents, through middlemen, must necessarily be unhappy. But after I had been on the field for a time I decided that in Chinathe proportion of happy marriages among those outside of Christ wasgreater than marriages of those of the same group in America, eventhough almost all the marriages in China were made after the oldtraditional style! People who choose partners for themselves do notalways choose wisely. Older people, with more experience, may make awiser choice than the young people themselves would have done. It_may_ be better to have a trustworthy middleman than to try to do thechoosing oneself!

If this is true of an earthly middleman, how much more it is true ofthe One who chooses for _us_! The earthly middleman may do very wellin many cases, but certainly he makes some mistakes. The One whochooses for us makes no mistakes. So whether it be a matter ofaccepting a fellow worker you would rather not have, or of letting goone whom you would like to keep--remember the One who does thechoosing for us makes no mistakes. 

CHAPTER 10

_The Right to Feel Superior_

The meeting of the Missionary Union had closed. The Bible Institutestudents were leaving the room in groups, and many of them werediscussing the message which they had just heard. 

"What did you think of his last point?" asked one. 

"That about race prejudice, you mean? About not thinking that becauseour skin is white, we're better than anyone else? To tell the truth, it seemed a bit superfluous to me. I suppose race prejudice and racepride still do exist, but not in a group like this. Why, we'repractically all missionary candidates!"

"Just what I thought myself!" rejoined the first. "You'd think he'dgotten his audience mixed. But he knew he was talking to missionarycandidates, all right. That's the strange part. The rest of histalk--it was the real stuff. But that one point--I just couldn't makeit out. "

"Oh, he's just fifty years out of date, that's all, " commentedanother. "That's the way it was when _he_ went to the field--theimperialistic white man and the downtrodden native--but times havechanged. People wouldn't act like that now. Each race has its ownculture, and its own contribution to make to enrich the culture of theworld. We realize all this now. The Christian world has come a longway since _he_ was in training. Pride of race! We're more likely to beashamed of our race, if he only knew it. Look at the state the world'sin--all trouble stirred up by the white race!"

"Some of those old missionaries _were_ imperialistic, all right!" Aslight, blond youth joined the conversation. "You should hear some ofthe tales my father tells! Ordering the native people around as ifthey were slaves! Such cases were few and far between, of course. But, you know, I don't think that's the sort of thing he was driving at. Times may change, but not the human heart. Pride is just as easy a sinto fall into as it ever was. Thinking that we're better than someoneelse--it may not be because of our race, but merely because the otherfellow is poor or uneducated--we can't just dismiss it and say, 'I'min no danger of that. '"

"Well, perhaps there's something--"

"Aw, just because you grew up on a mission field--"

"You know, _I_ think--" Several began to talk at once. Suddenly a gongrang, and the group scattered in all directions. 

"Oh, Ann, I've been wanting to find you! A bunch of us are planning togo to Tong's for a Chinese meal. Do you want to come along?"

"Chinese meal? Dear me, I've never had one. Do you have to eat withchopsticks? Don't they serve you rats and mice and all sorts ofhorrible things?"

"Of course not, you silly! There are the most delicious things! Andyou don't have to eat with chopsticks unless you want to. In fact, they always give us knives and forks unless we especially ask forchopsticks. But I adore strange ways! This will be my third time forChinese food. We always ask for chopsticks--it's the most fun tryingto use them! Though I must admit that we usually give up halfway--thefood is so delicious and we're so hungry we have to. Then you'llcome?"

"Well--to tell the truth, I'm afraid it will be some awful stuff Ican't eat. "

"I'm surprised at you, Ann! You're a missionary candidate, aren't you?You'll _have_ to get used to strange--"

"No, but it seems so sort of uncivilized to eat with sticks, orfingers--and all out of one dish, isn't it? Ugh!"

"Now don't be fussy! Didn't you hear that missionary talk last night?You've got to appreciate other people's ways on the missionfield--can't go around thinking your ways are best!"

"I know. " Ann was suddenly very serious. "But there's only one thingabout it that bothers me. What if your own ways really _are_ best?"

 * * * * *

Chopsticks, or knives and forks--which are best? Not which are themost intriguing, or cause the most hilarity, but which really andtruly are the most useful for their purpose--that of conveying food toone's mouth in a convenient and graceful manner. Don't condemn Annoffhand. If I were to ask _you_ this question, what answer would _you_give?

"Well--really--" you say. "After all--" Yes. That's just it. You, andAnn, and millions more can't help realizing (or is it feeling?) thatyour way _is_ best. But what about the millions in China and Japan?How would they answer the question? Did you ever stop to think thattheir reaction would be just as immediate, and their answer just assure? And I think I am safe in saying that a larger proportion of themhave actually tried using the other person's implements than we have. 

When a group of ex-China missionaries get together at home and go to aChinese restaurant for a meal, the first thing they do after orderingis to request that the food be served in bowls, and they be suppliedwith chopsticks instead of knives and forks. Why? Ask any of them. Thereply you will probably get is, "Oh, it doesn't taste the same wheneaten with knives and forks!" And the strange part about it is that itis really true. 

"But, " you say, "chopsticks are so difficult to use!" Not at all! Youjust need a little practice. Even knives and forks are difficult forbeginners to manage. You would know that if you had watched as manybeginners (adults) try to use them as I have. 

"No, but you can't cut anything with them!" Of course you can't. Thekitchen is the place for cutting up food. To serve a slab of meat on aplate, and expect the eater to saw off pieces with a dull knife--it'sutterly barbarous! Chinese food is properly prepared, bite-size, inthe kitchen. 

"Oh? But what about soup or gravy? You can't eat _them_ withchopsticks!" Quite true; neither can you eat them with knife and fork. Chinese eat soup with a spoon, or drink it from a bowl. 

"Well, chopsticks are awkward, in any case!" Awkward? What are youtalking about? They are just like pincers--you nip a bite and pick itup daintily, instead of spearing, or shoveling, as you do with a fork. 

It's amazing how hard it is for an American (I won't speak for othernationalities!) to come to the place where he will appreciate thefact that the ways of people in other lands are in many cases betterfor them than our ways would be. If you are going to the foreign fieldin order to teach "the American way of life, " you had better stay athome. In saying this I do not mean that Americans do not have someskills that it might be advantageous for the people on some foreignmission fields to learn. But any missionary who has the feeling thathis ways of doing things are better just because they are "civilized"ways, or "American" ways, or just his own ways, is heading fortrouble. 

When I first went to China I thought I had no feeling of racesuperiority. Then an incident occurred that showed me I was not ashumble as I had thought. It was at the Chinese New Year season. Chinese New Year is the time of preparing all sorts of special foods, and frequently at that time some of the Christian women would send usa bowl of this, or a plate of that. There was a neighborly feelingabout it all that warmed my heart. Then one year a fairly wealthyChristian woman, who had just recently moved to our city, sent herservant over with a gift of a different kind. It was not food thistime, but money. In purchasing value the amount would have beenequivalent to an American dollar or two. It was the first money giftthat had ever been presented to me by a Chinese. 

I had always been pleased with the gifts of food, but somehow, when Isaw what this gift was, I reacted strongly against it. There wassomething in me that rebelled. "_I_ don't need your money!" was myinstinctive reaction. Fortunately I had enough politeness left torealize that I could not refuse it without offending the giver, and soI did take it, mumbling my thanks, which I did not feel, and watchedthe servant depart. Then I sat down to think it out. _Why_ did it makeme so uncomfortable to accept that gift? When I finally got to thebottom of it, I decided that the real reason was that I unconsciouslyfelt that it put me in an inferior position. Accepting a gift of foodwas different--that was just neighborliness. But a small gift ofmoney! That is normally given by a superior to an inferior--a fatherto his child, a mistress to her servant, one who has sufficient forhis needs to one who has not. In this case the giver did not look atit like that, of course. Money gifts were a common thing in hercircle, and to her the amount was not too small. But my unconsciousreaction was that I was being put in an inferior position, and thiswas the thing at which I rebelled. How could I, who was this woman'ssuperior (this was my unconscious feeling), take this money, and soaccept the place of being her inferior?

The position of a missionary is something like that of a teacher. Hecomes to tell people something that they do not know; to introduce aFriend of whom they have not heard. He certainly knows more aboutChristianity, academically and experimentally, than the people to whomhe goes--otherwise there would be no point in his going. He probablyknows more about the world in general than the people to whom he goes. He may know better ways of living and working, even for theirenvironment, than they do. How can a person be conscious of how muchmore he knows than someone else, and still not feel _superior_? Thoseamong whom he works may realize that he knows much that they shouldlearn, and may look up to him as a superior being. This makes it evenharder. How can he overcome the superiority complex that comes fromrace, or from looking on oneself as _civilized_, or even just fromrecognizing that one has more education and experience than thoseamong whom he works?

The first step in conquering this superiority complex is to realizethat it is there. Most of us have it without realizing it. If werealize that this thing probably exists somewhere in our make-up, itwill be easier to recognize it when it suddenly rears its head, as itdid with me. Seeing it for what it is is the first step in conqueringit. The second step, I think, is to become thoroughly acquainted withthose to whom we go. Perhaps if we know more about them we will notfind them so inferior. Go and live their life with them, twenty-fourhours of the day. Don't just put yourself in the position of anobserver, but try to do the things that they do. You will probablyfind that you are not as proficient in doing most of the things thatthey do as are their ten-year-old children! If your people are_uncivilized_, go into the jungle with them and try to wrest yourliving from the jungle--try to find or make everything that you need. If they are _civilized_, but poor and backward, go into their homes, and live their lives with them. See how they grow their own food, andthat without the use of modern machinery; how they grind their owngrain into flour, salt or dry their own vegetables, butcher their ownmeat--if they have any; how they raise cotton, pick it, card it, spinit, dye it, weave it into cloth, and make the clothes for the familywithout the aid of a sewing machine. And then watch them (as I oftenhave) make beautiful embroidery for relaxation! By the time you havebecome really familiar with (I won't say proficient in) their way oflife, I think you will have lost most of your feeling of superiority. You will no more think of them as "ignorant savages, " or "those fromlower cultural groups. " Instead, they will just be John, and Mary, andPeter, and Paul--or whatever their names happen to be--real people, like you and me; real people, who are amazingly skillful in some ways, and amazingly stupid in others, just like the rest of us. 

There is one more thing we need to do in conquering that superioritycomplex. We need to realize what a difference having Christ makes. Those to whom we minister may live in the midst of filth and disease. Their minds may be dull, and their hearts dark and full of fears. (Were our ancestors any different when Christ found them?) But seethem come to the One who is the Light of the world, and watch thetransformation that takes place. Then realize more deeply than everall that you owe to Christ, and the greatness of His power in makingthe one who comes to Him literally "a new creation. " What these peopleneed is not a training that will educate them out of theirenvironment. What they need is not to learn to use knives and forksinstead of chopsticks or fingers. What they need is a LIFE that willtransform them, and enable them to live a life of victory over sin andthe Devil within their environment. This imparted life may graduallytransform that environment too--probably it will; but that is asecondary thing. There is one thing that is essential, and onealone--the impartation of the life of Christ. It does not matter howlow, how ignorant, how degraded the person is, Christ is _able_ totransform him into someone far superior to me; and it may be thatthat is _just what He is going to do_. Who am I, a poor redeemedsinner, to look down upon anyone else? Who am I to challenge Christ'spower, and refuse to believe that anyone can be made new?

 * * * * *

_Dear Lord, forgive me for feeling that I am superior to anyone! Openmy eyes to see how deep was the pit from which I was digged! Grantthat I may make myself one with the people to whom Thou art sendingme, and that by faith I can see them transformed by Thy power, evenbefore that transformation has taken place!_

CHAPTER 11

_The Right to Run Things_

A new mission station opened! Another conquest of the Gospel! Have youever wondered how it was done? Suppose you are a missionary, and havealready passed successfully through the language-learning stage. Suppose you are assigned an area where the Gospel has never beenpreached, an area teeming with people, very few of whom have ever evenheard the precious name of Jesus. You probably have a fellow worker. You have good health, a reasonable knowledge of the language and localcustoms, and a heart on fire for God. You have a certain amount offinancial resources. What do you do? How do you start in?

Let's see what Mr. Beaver did. When assigned to this new, untouchedfield, his heart and the heart of his wife were deeply moved. Tenthousand souls and more, and probably not one of them a Christian! Tenthousand souls and more, and it might well be that none of them hadever heard the Gospel preached in any adequate way! Ten thousand soulsand more, and the large majority of them had never even heard thename of Jesus! What an opportunity! What a challenge!

"Such a challenge calls for action, " ruminated Mr. Beaver. "It callsfor immediate action, and yet action that is well planned, and will beas effective as possible. How can we reach the largest number of soulsfor Christ in the shortest time? But what can two people do, anyway?We must have helpers. We must have a church building, and a nativeevangelist or two. We must have a street chapel. We must have aChristian school, for through it we can reach countless numbers ofyoung people. Our church and school will be established in the centralcity of the area, of course. But then, think of all the smaller townsand villages! As soon as things get going in the city, we must startoutstations in strategic market towns as well. We must organize tentcampaigns, making use of modern equipment--public address system, recordings, films, and all the rest. We must also start a socialwelfare program that will help us to get in touch with the poorerclasses--and aren't the bulk of the people always poor? A certainamount of relief funds, administered carefully to the deserving, willmake the love of Christ known in a practical way, and surely willattract folk to our church. "

So ran the thoughts of Mr. And Mrs. Beaver, and, because they were"go-getters, " their plans were soon put into effect. A fine piece ofproperty was purchased. Buildings were erected: a residence forthemselves, a preaching hall opening directly on the main street, fineschool buildings, and a beautiful church building. Crowds of peoplecame to listen to the singing, to see Christian films, and to hear theGospel preached in simplicity and power. It was not long before peoplewere giving their names as inquirers. The missionaries' servants wereamong the first to respond, and their friends and relatives followed. Other helpers around the place were needed: a gardener, a gatekeeper, and so on, and naturally these were chosen from among the firstconverts. Soon the busy compound was like one happy family--allgathering the first thing in the morning for prayer, and joining theirvoices in song, praising the One of whom they had never heard threemonths ago, but who now was their acknowledged Saviour. Callers camefrom morning till night. Mr. Beaver was never too busy to see them, tohear their tales of woe, to point them to the Saviour, and to givethem a little judicious help. 

"It's not too wise, " he thought, "to give out a lot of money fornothing. I don't want to make paupers of these people. What they needis jobs, and someone who will encourage them to work, training them ifnecessary. Let's see--I've got quite a bit of relief funds in hand;and there's plenty of work that needs to be done to improve thisproperty. So-and-so [one of the new inquirers] is a builder; I'll puthim in charge of operations, and we'll take on all these poor peoplewho need help--much better than giving them help outright--and we'llreally put this place into shape. Not only will our property benefit, but it will also give these people a chance to hear the Gospel againand again, until they really understand it. I'm sure that many of themwill accept the Lord if this plan goes through!"

And so things went. Such large numbers gave their names as inquirers, and they studied and attended services so faithfully that within sixmonths the first baptismal service was held. What joy it brought tothe hearts of Mr. And Mrs. Beaver! Two other such services were heldbefore the first year was up, and by that time Mr. Beaver felt itright to appoint deacons, and to get the church on an organized basis. He chose several of the most promising young people, including one whohad served in his home, and sent them off to a Bible institute, looking forward with great joy to the time when they would graduateand come back to help him in the work. Then he would be able to lethis original evangelists go (they were getting a bit too bossy anyway, and thought they knew how the Lord's work should be carried on betterthan he did!), and have only his own spiritual children associatedwith him in the work. They would all work happily under his direction, and surely the Lord could bless more where the workers were all one inheart. Well, he wouldn't say that these evangelists were _not_ one inheart with him, but still--sometimes he felt that there was just alittle something lacking. Sometimes they didn't support his plans withall the enthusiasm that they might. 

By the time three more years had passed, Mr. Beaver had put up churchbuildings in six market towns, and was just waiting until his firstyoung people graduated from the Bible institute and came back beforestarting regular weekly services in the last three of the six towns. He traveled constantly, and wherever he went the people flocked to himfor help and advice. True, there were one or two that turned againsthim, but one couldn't expect the Lord's work always to be easy; andthe large majority looked to him as children to a father. There wereelders as well as deacons in the church now, and when he presided attheir meetings and looked over the group, his own spiritual childrennow taking their places as leaders in the church, his heart justmelted. True, they were a bit hesitant about going ahead, and alwaysconsulted him before making plans, but that was only natural andright. After all, they had only a few years' experience in the churchand couldn't be expected to know how best to govern the House of God. Indeed, several times he had found it necessary to put his foot downwhen one of them, a little less experienced and more reckless than theothers, had advanced his own ideas of how church affairs should bemanaged. But he had soon subsided and realized his mistake. What ahappy family the church was, indeed, with everything working out justas he had planned it! Truly God was good!

 * * * * *

At the time when Mr. Beaver went to his new station and began puttinghis magnificent plans into effect, another worker was sent, in thesame way, to a new area. Mr. Trainer was perhaps not so dynamic anindividual, but he knew just as clearly what his plans were for thechurch that was as yet unborn. "The church, which is his body"--theBody of Christ! The Church which is, through the indwelling Christ, the light of the world! The Church, where each member is in vitalcontact with the Head, and so, necessarily, is in vital contact withevery other member! The Church, each member of which is indwelt by theHoly Spirit, and each member of which feels his responsibility to liveand witness for the One who means all in all to him! The church Mr. Trainer wanted to plant was a church which was all this--a churchwhich was a living plant, with its roots going down into God; achurch which did not look to the missionary, or any other man, for itsneeds, but which was centered upon Christ; a church which would begiven "gifts" by the Holy Spirit, and would be able to use those giftsto the edifying of itself, and the bringing of souls into the kingdom. 

Mr. Trainer, like Mr. Beaver, went to the central city of his area andlocated on a main street. His "compound" was a tiny rented house, witha pocket-handkerchief-size courtyard. He did no building at all, andhis few rooms were sparsely furnished. Books were the only things heseemed to own. There were books everywhere, said his callers, but notmuch else--some perfectly ordinary furniture, and that was all. He hadno street chapel, and no paid workers brought in from the outside; butday by day he set a table and a few stools in his gateway, covered thetable with attractive Gospel literature printed in the language of thepeople, and there he sat and read. Passersby stopped to examine hisbooks. One and all received an attractive Gospel tract, and had themessage explained in simple language as long as they cared to listen. Some bought Gospels and other booklets. A few got into the habit ofdropping by every evening, when work was done; and Mr. Trainer taughtthem to sing Gospel songs and choruses, and read the Word with them. At other times he went from shop to shop, giving out tracts, andinviting people to call when they had time. 

The compound of Mr. Trainer was tiny, compared with that of Mr. Beaver. He had no school, and no church building. He did not even holdchurch services at first--who was there to come? Not another Christianin all that area. He did not attract huge crowds. He did not spendlarge sums of money, nor employ large numbers of people. People didnot come to him for financial assistance--what would be the use, whenhe did not seem to have any more money than anyone else? But heattracted a few, a few "whose heart the Lord opened, " and day by dayhe taught them more about the Saviour. It was a full year before hehad a baptismal service. The numbers baptized were far smaller thanthose baptized by Mr. Beaver, but the joy in his heart was just asreal. 

Even before these converts were baptized, Mr. Trainer started teachingthem about the Church. He taught them that they were indwelt by theHoly Spirit. He led them daily to the Throne of Grace, and from thebeginning they learned to pray. He encouraged in them the desire towin others of their own households and their friends. He encouragedthem to witness, both in their own group, and to those who did notknow Christ. He encouraged them to bring others to the little eveninggathering, and then to testify in front of these whom they hadbrought. He did not make too many concrete suggestions, but prayed, and waited for the Holy Spirit to suggest ways and means of witnessingto them. Soon he was invited to their homes to talk to others in theirfamilies about the Lord. He always made such occasions an opportunityfor the one who invited him there to speak, asking for that one'spersonal testimony, as well as speaking himself. Sometimes others ofthe group went along, and they too had a chance to testify. Then itcame about quite naturally that the little informal evening meetingwas held in the different homes, rather than always in that of Mr. Trainer. Soon different ones were taking turns leading, withspontaneous testimonies, or sharing of "wonderful thoughts" from theWord that came to them in their own private devotions. They would tellabout opportunities they had to witness for the Lord, and there wouldbe prayer all around for the requests brought before the group. Soonother souls were coming to the Saviour, not because of the directefforts of the missionary, but rather through the instrumentality ofthese young Christians. That, felt Mr. Trainer, was the greatesttriumph of all!

Although he was eager to start street meetings, Mr. Trainer did notwant this to be his own personal effort, but rather a church effort. So he restrained himself and said nothing, but prayed constantlyabout the matter. What was his joy when one day one of them asked, "Couldn't we have a meeting somewhere where more people would come, and we could preach the Gospel to them?" When no one seemed to be ableto think of a building both suitable and available, he permittedhimself to make a suggestion about open-air meetings he had attended. Never having heard of such a thing, some were doubtful, others amazed. He answered questions about how such meetings were run, but made norecommendation. He heard no more about the subject for a week or two, and then suddenly the whole group (who had been consulting together, it seemed) came to him, eager to have an open-air meeting, with hisassistance. Careful preparations were made, musical instruments someof them had were requisitioned, and the first street meeting was held. Although no actual decisions for Christ were made, a good crowdlistened, and the Christians were so pleased that from that day theopen-air meeting became a regular thing. 

Trying to witness or bring a short Gospel message in these meetingsbrought home to the young Christians their need for more Bible study, so a regular Bible study class was instituted two nights a week, instead of the usual meeting for testimony and prayer. At first theyconcentrated on helping the speakers prepare their messages for thenext street meeting. Later they chose a Book of the Bible, or acertain topic, and asked Mr. Trainer to lead them in their study. Notebooks were filled, and practical methods of Bible study becamefamiliar processes, but most of all they learned to look to the HolySpirit to take the Word given by His own inspiration and interpret itto their hearts. 

When the very first ones came to the Lord, Mr. Trainer had suggestedthat they meet on the Lord's Day. He had usually taken charge of thatservice himself. By the time there were a dozen or so baptizedChristians, he encouraged them to feel that they, like the Jerusalemchurch in Acts 6, should choose deacons. The group spent much time inprayer, looking to the Lord for His guidance, and when the deaconswere actually chosen, all felt that they were not just their ownchoice, but men chosen by the Holy Spirit. After they were chosen, heturned over all the services to them, and suggested that they taketurns in leading the Sunday morning service, and also speaking at thatservice. He would be glad to take his turn with the others. And so itwas carried out. 

All this time they had been meeting in the various homes. Theinconvenience of unsuitable rooms and never having enough benches hadbeen felt for some time, so when the deacons took over they decidedthat something must be done about it. Didn't other places have churchbuildings? Why couldn't they? Some of the group had the idea thatthere was some kind of a mission or church somewhere that providedmoney for such things, so off they went to inquire of the missionary. He explained to them clearly that there _were_ mission boards thatprovided funds, in whole or part, for church buildings in many places;but that this did not seem to be the New Testament way, nor was it theway to build a strong local church. "It would be far better, " he said, "to meet in a shanty put up by yourselves, than in a beautifulbuilding that cost you nothing. " They had several long talks on thesubject, and soon all the Christians were deeply concerned. It seemedimpossible to out-argue Mr. Trainer. At the same time it seemed evenmore impossible to do what he thought they ought to do--contributeenough money to build their own church building! Only twelve orfifteen baptized Christians, and several of them women or young peoplefrom homes where the head of the house did not believe--what couldthey do? Mr. Trainer would only counsel them to pray. And pray theydid--there seemed to be nothing else they could do. Finally thedeacons made a special offering box for gifts for the new churchbuilding, and the money began to come in. The gifts were more thanthey expected; and yet they were but a drop in the bucket comparedwith what was needed. Time passed, and the fund slowly grew. Suggestions of "church bazaars" and "fun fairs" were made severaltimes (wherever had they heard of such things?). Mr. Trainer counseledagainst them, but did not feel that he had the authority to forbid. After all, the church was standing on its own feet, and it stood orfell to Christ alone! But he spent much time in prayer, and none ofthese suggestions was put into effect. 

One Sunday an electrifying announcement was made. A wealthybusinessman in the city was offering them a suitable piece of propertyfor their building as an outright gift! The Christians redoubled theirefforts in giving, and that month they received ten times as much asthey had received in any one month before. A church in a city not toofar away heard of their efforts, and sent a contribution. Churchmembership was growing, and all the new believers became interested ingiving. Then two of the deacons made a proposal: "Why can't we do mostof the work on the building ourselves? That will make it much lessexpensive!"

The plans needed careful working out, but assistance was given bysomeone's neighbor, who was a builder, and finally the work started. Many of them put in long hours of back-breaking labor after theirregular work for the day had been completed. Difficulties appeared, but prayer and perseverance prevailed. After the building was started, many more gifts came in; and great was the rejoicing when the simplelittle chapel was at last finished, and used for its first Sundaymorning service! Throngs of interested neighbors and friends turned upfor the meeting, and several of the deacons took turns at preaching. Aguest speaker had also been invited, the pastor of the church that hadsent an unsolicited offering to help with the building. The meetingwent on for more than two hours, but everyone was happy, and again andagain praises ascended to God for their own church building!

 * * * * *

A couple of years passed. The work of Mr. Beaver and Mr. Trainercontinued as begun. Then suddenly the country was threatened by war. Worse still, the missionaries were labeled as "enemy nationals. " Ageneral evacuation took place. Both Mr. Beaver and Mr. Trainer weredue for furloughs; and even if they had not been, remaining on thefield could only bring harm to the Christians. Both of them gatheredup a few things and departed, escaping from the country just in time. If they had remained a few days longer, they would have foundthemselves in concentration camps. When they arrived at home, each hada thrilling tale to tell of how God had worked in saving souls andbuilding up His Church, and also of personal deliverance in time ofdanger. At the end of every message they gave came these words: "Prayfor the Christians there. Because of the war, there is no way ofgetting news from them, and we have heard nothing since we left. Praythat they may be kept true, and that in spite of war and distress, thechurches may grow and expand, and that many more souls may be broughtto Christ. "

 * * * * *

The war was over. Friendly relations between countries were againestablished. Both missionaries had had profitable furloughs: time forrest and spiritual refreshment, and many opportunities to make knownthe needs, the difficulties, and the triumphs of the mission field. Then--something happened. Both men fully expected to get back to theiroriginal fields of work, to see again those dear Christians, theirsons and daughters in the Lord--but neither did. Another call came toeach, and neither could return to his former field. Others wentinstead--others who knew little about the history of the stations, orwhat work had been done there. What did these men find in these twofields? I think you can guess!

Mr. Beaver's station had always been supplied with plenty of moneyfrom abroad. By becoming a Christian a man could obtain a certainamount of relief money, perhaps a job, or free schooling for hischildren. Many had learned "the language of Zion" and had been takeninto the church who had never had a change of heart. When war brokeout and the missionary left, the jobs were finished, and the schoolclosed down. There was no one to pay the evangelists, and theygradually drifted away to other places or into secular jobs. Thedeacons and elders had been accustomed to taking orders from Mr. Beaver and had had no real experience in looking after thingsthemselves. Even some of those leaders were of the group that hadjoined the church, not because they had really repented and turned toChrist, but for the material benefits they could get. 

As soon as Mr. Beaver left, they quarreled among themselves as towhich one would take his place and be the "big chief. " There was noone capable of taking services, because such things had always been inthe hands of Mr. Beaver and his paid workers, who now were gone. Noneof the elders or deacons had ever preached a sermon in his life. Sometried, but their efforts did not draw the crowds, and attendance soondwindled to almost nothing. Then quarrels about the property began. True, it belonged not to them, but to the mission board; but surely itwas up to the church to look after it while the missionary was gone!Several so-called Christian families moved into the empty buildings, with or without the agreement of the deacons and elders; but then, thought they, the buildings _should_ be occupied, and of course thesepeople will pay us rent! (They never did. ) Church services graduallyceased. A few faithful Christians remained true to the Lord, and metin a home for occasional services; but since none had been trained tolead meetings, all they could do was sing, read the Bible, and pray. 

But what had happened at the other station? There the case was fardifferent. They had gone through the sorrows of war, but they had doneso with the Lord at their side. Continuing the work of the church wasno problem--they had been doing it themselves all along. Money washard to get, and many young men had to go to war; but the hearts ofthe people were open as never before, and they had baptisms once andagain. They missed Mr. Trainer very much; but they were driven morethan ever to the Lord, and found Him sufficient for their every need. 

 * * * * *

It is easy to say that one man was right and the other was wrong. Buthow many of us would not have followed in the footsteps of Mr. Beaverif we had not been warned? And how many of us missionaries today, eventhough warned, are not still in danger of making ourselves the littlecenter around which the mission station revolves?

"It's all very well to say that the Christians should take theresponsibility from the very beginning, " we think; "but _here_ it isimpossible. These people are too poor! And they are too ignorant! No, they certainly would do everything wrong if I let them take the lead!"And so we go on telling everyone what he ought to do, and seeing thathe does it; and in the eyes of the young believers the Christian lifebecomes simply a matter of doing what the missionary says. 

That is not the way that Paul built churches. Great and dynamiccharacter that he was, he so taught and led his groups of youngChristians that when after a few months or a year or two he left themthey were able to carry on by themselves, and even to grow. He did notput up church buildings for them, nor schools, nor give them "grants. "He brought them to the place where they could function as livingchurches, in direct union with the Head, and not centered uponhimself. His efforts were directed to building up churches that wouldbe able to stand alone, because they stood in the strength of the Onewho upheld Paul. 

Why is it so easy for us missionaries to think that we know how to dothe work of the Lord better than any mission field convert, especiallyif that one has been led to the Lord by us? Doing the Lord's work isnot fundamentally a matter of knowledge, training, or even experience. It may be true that I have had years of Bible training, and the littleold woman with whom I am going out visiting has never been to any sortof school a day in her life; that I have traveled around the world, and she has never been thirty miles from the place where she was born;that I have heard the Gospel and studied the Bible all my life, andshe has known it for only a few short years. I was born againtwenty-five or thirty years ago; she has been the Lord's own for threeor four years. Suppose we go to call on someone who is ill or introuble. I get out a poster, and carefully explain the Gospel. Thewoman we are visiting listens to me with her mouth open; and aftertwenty minutes of as clear and simple preaching as I am capable of, when I am just getting to my climax, she lays her hand on my sleeveand asks earnestly, "Did you make this dress yourself?"

My heart sinks to my boots. Is that what she has been thinking aboutall this time? Is that why she fixed her eyes on me so intently?What's the use anyway?

Then the old lady who is with me starts in. _She_ can't even tellclearly the bare outlines of the life of our Saviour; but she turns tothe woman, one whose life and thoughts she knows (wasn't she just likeher before she was saved?), and says, "Look at me! I used to havethis trouble and that trouble and the other trouble, and then I cameto Jesus, and asked Him to forgive my sins. He did it and took all mytroubles away, and gave me peace and joy in my heart as I neverdreamed of. Come to Him and you can have it too!"

When the one on whom we are calling says suddenly, "I'm going tobelieve too, " it is far more likely to be the result of my companion'stestimony than of my fine Gospel message!

Are you a missionary volunteer? When you get to the mission field, remember that a simple, earnest testimony from one who is "just likewe are" will usually bring far more in the way of results than yourown best efforts. Don't think that the missionary is the only one whocan bring souls to the Lord. The one who has just been saved mayeasily become a more effective witness than you yourself. 

No matter how uneducated and degraded the group, there are always init one or more who are leaders. No matter how poor and ignorant he is, the one who has been truly saved, and knows that he is saved, isalways capable of witnessing to others of his own group. No matter howpoor a little group of Christians is, if they continue in prayer andpatient effort they will surely be able to provide for themselves ameeting house that is as good as their own homes, or a little better. The Church of God is not dependent upon Gothic arches and stainedglass windows, upon ministers in Geneva gowns and upon robed choirs. It is not dependent upon material resources, or this world's learning. None of these things are essentials. The only things that areessentials to the Church of Christ are found in Christ and in thepenitent and forgiven soul, no matter what his race or culture oreconomic status. The Church of Christ can function on any level atwhich men for whom Christ died are living. 

It is very easy for the missionary to become a little "pope. " Godforbid that we should do this! God forbid that we should considerourselves the exclusive channels for bringing God's grace to needysouls, or the only ones capable of hearing God's voice! God forbidthat we should forget that every believer, as soon as he is bornagain, is indwelt by the Holy Spirit! And may God open our eyes toways and means of doing what is perhaps the greatest task of themissionary, the task of bringing the young church to the place whereit can get along without us, the task of working ourselves out of ajob!

CHAPTER 12

_He Had No Rights_

He had no rights:

 No right to a soft bed, and a well-laid table;

 No right to a home of His own, a place where His own pleasure might be sought;

 No right to choose pleasant, congenial companions, those who could understand Him and sympathize with Him;

 No right to shrink away from filth and sin, to pull His garments closer around Him and turn aside to walk in cleaner paths;

 No right to be understood and appreciated; no, not by those upon whom He had poured out a double portion of His love;

 No right even never to be forsaken by His Father, the One who meant more than all to Him. 

His only right was silently to endure shame, spitting, blows; to takeHis place as a sinner at the dock; to bear my sins in anguish on thecross. 

He had no rights. And I?

 A right to the "comforts" of life? No, but a right to the love of God for my pillow. 

 A right to physical safety? No, but a right to the security of being in His will. 

 A right to love and sympathy from those around me? No, but a right to the friendship of the One who understands me better than I do myself. 

 A right to be a leader among men? No, but the right to be led by the One to whom I have given my all, led as is a little child, with its hand in the hand of its father. 

 A right to a home, and dear ones? No, not necessarily; but a right to dwell in the heart of God. 

 A right to myself? No, but, oh, _I have a right to Christ_. 

 All that He takes I will give; All that He gives will I take; He, my only right! He, the one right before which all other rights fade into nothingness. I have full right to Him; Oh, may He have full right to me!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: This word is not used in any disparaging sense, butsimply meaning "originating in a given place. "]

[Footnote 2: Colloquial Chinese term for a bride. ]

[Footnote 3: Bound small in childhood. ]

[Footnote 4: Adapted from _The Lord Stood by Me_ (Philadelphia: ChinaInland Mission, n. D. ), pp. 67-75 (out of print). ]

[Footnote 5: Cf. Ch. 8. ]

[Footnote 6: General Director of the China Inland Mission at thattime. ]

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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Title Page: The title and author have been changed from lower case to title case. 

Page 45: Typo corrected: vistior to visitor. 

Page 105: Typo corrected: gardner to gardener. 

Page 119: Typo corrected: happend to happened.