Part 10

There is danger of too narrow an interpretation of instructions. As an illustration, take the case of Paul, who "determined to know nothing" among the Corinthian Christians "save Jesus Christ and Him crucified." But in elaborating his theme he found occasion to discuss social purity, matrimony, divorce, celibacy, apparel for the sexes, the place of woman in public gatherings, as well as church discipline and collections. Whatever instruction was needed for the moral and spiritual development of the individual had a direct bearing upon his central theme. Such instruction could not be omitted without dwarfing the benefits of Christ's sacrifice. In God's plan for the evangelization of the world "The foolishness of the preaching" is to "save them that believe"; "Christ crucified" furnishing both the theme and the power. All other plans have failed. But this theme may be proclaimed in many ways;--by the evangelist, as he goes from village to village; by the pastor from the pulpit; by the teacher in the daily Bible-study of the school; by the medical missionary, whose ministrations of mercy are sermons in themselves; by the holy life of missionary and disciple; even by the Christian chapel, standing in a heathen community as a silent yet significant witness for Christ. All of these forces, and others are being used of God in the redemption of Burma.

"Direct evangelization," or the proclamation of the gospel-message from village to village, throughout the large district to which a missionary has been assigned, is the predominating method.

Our first experience in this line came when we had been but a few months in Burma. A messenger from a village twenty-three miles away came to inform us that two young men wanted to be baptized. Having already made plans to visit that village we prepared at once to respond to the summons. When a Burman wishes to be baptized in the presence of the heathen people of his own village, it is taken as evidence that the Holy Spirit is working in his heart. Such opportunities must not be neglected.

First we must summon our forces. U Po Hlaing must go, because this is the village in which he used to live, and these converts are fruits of his labours. Ko Thaleh must go, because he has had much experience in examining candidates, and his judgment can be trusted. Maung Ka must go, because he is young, full of fire, and will not cease to preach the gospel, whatever the circumstances. But it is not easy to secure an audience in the heathen village, unless there is some special attraction. "Music hath charms" to draw the people from their homes, and hold them until the preachers have done their work. "Mama" is going, with the portable organ, and some of the Christian girls to sing, insuring success though other methods fail. After going seventeen miles by rail we still had six miles to make by ox-cart. The delight of an ox-cart ride over rough jungle roads beggars description.

The driver sits on the projecting front, guiding the animals, or pretending to, by means of a rope passed through their noses.

Just as we are about to sit down the oxen start. We save ourselves by clutching at somebody else. A desire to say something emphatic to the driver is overcome by inability to speak his language, and a feeling of thankfulness that we are still on deck. The road is conspicuous by its absence,--but that does not matter. All the driver wants is to get his bearings, then off he goes across sun-baked rice-fields, and through the jungle. By instinct he knows that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, and he keeps to that line without regard to obstructions or our feelings. At last we reach the river, and see on the opposite bank the thatch-roofed houses of the village. The preachers shout to the villagers, and soon two boats are poled across to take us over. Our boat is a long narrow dug-out, our boatman a chubby Burmese girl. We are in momentary expectation of being dumped into the river; but happily our expectations are not realized. Chubby enjoys it immensely, and seems proud when she has landed us safely. Landing means that the dug-out has stuck in the mud, twenty feet from shore. The natives could wade, and so could we, but we did not like to, through all that mud. A brawny bare-backed Burman soon solved the problem by taking "Mama" in his arms and carrying her to the shore, returning to take the "Sayah" on pick-a-pack.

We were piloted to a house at the farther end of the village. Ascending by a short ladder to the open veranda we were glad to stretch out on the split-bamboo floor for a little rest. After we had eaten supper, and the men and women had returned from their work in the rice-fields, the portable organ was placed in position. In response to its tones, sounds never heard before in that village, men, women, and children came from all directions. Some sat around on the ground, others climbed the ladder and filled all available space. The preachers did their best to make known the "Glad Tidings." Whenever the audience showed signs of thinning out, the organ would send forth another appeal, restoring numbers and interest. Sankey's songs, translated into Burmese, were sung with vigour by the schoolgirls. The "Old, Old Story" seemed to take new meaning when sung to the heathen by some of their own people who had learned to love it and live by it. During the following day, while the people were busy at their work, our attention was given to the children.

A dozen or so, drawn by curiosity, had collected about the house.

Some were half clad, others with no protection whatever, save a string around the neck, with one large bead attached.

All were very dirty, and as shy as rabbits. After winning their confidence a picture card was given to each, with instructions to go and bring other children.

It was interesting to see them scatter through the village to do their first missionary work. Few in the home-land realize how helpful to the missionary are the bright coloured advertising cards. Wild children in jungle villages are won by these pictures. Attendance at Sunday-school in town may be doubled by their use. But these native children want something more than bright colours. Strange to say that although fond of flowers for personal adornment, they will give only a passing glance at the showiest picture of flowers; while a picture of a _person_,--man, woman, or child, of any race,--if in bright attire, is eagerly seized. A darky boy riding a spool of Coat's thread is more effective than a dull Sunday-school card for evangelizing purposes. Bushels of such cards might be utilized.

Late that afternoon the council came together to examine the candidates for baptism. Sitting around on the floor in all sorts of positions they formed a strange looking group, yet as sincere and earnest as a similar council in the home-land.

The examination was declared satisfactory, so after prayer we all started for the river, followed by nearly the whole village, curious to witness a Christian baptism,--the strange magic rite of initiation into the foreign religion. This is always a grand opportunity to preach Christ. Rather than lose the baptism they will remain and listen as they would not at other times. So long as the missionary remains in their village they will not show, by word or sign, that they are not in sympathy with these proceedings. The new converts, who have had the courage of their convictions, will be made to realize to their sorrow the real mind of the people. On the way to this village we met a squad of Burmans, accompanied by a native policeman. One of the men was carrying a parcel wrapped in plantain leaves. Interested to know what was in the parcel, that it should require a police escort, what was our surprise to learn that it contained a dacoit's head! Bands of dacoits had been giving a great deal of trouble. Several of their leaders were still at large. More regular methods having failed to secure their capture, the British Indian government offered tempting rewards for their heads. Two men living in the village to which we were going, surprised one of these dacoit leaders in a jungle path, and thinking that his head would be worth more to them than it ever would be to him, they struck it off with their _dahs_. The head was taken to the court, where it was identified, and the reward recovered.

Continuing our tour, we halted one morning at about ten o'clock for breakfast. Our preachers had told us what a wicked village this was, how the people had driven them out every time they had attempted to preach or distribute tracts; and that only a little while before our visit they had beaten the wife of one of the preachers because she spoke of Christ while resting by the way. But this time there was no danger of violence, for the presence of one white man is sufficient security against serious molestation. So each preacher armed himself with a handful of tracts, and started out to work the village, and advertise our coming. Then "Mama" opened the portable organ there in the open air, and played a few tunes. Soon quite a number of women and children were attracted by the sound. After throwing out this bait, we paused for breakfast, for we were hungry, hot, and tired, having been travelling since the first signs of morning light. The people were told to come again about noon, and bring others with them. The news that the white teachers had come, that one was a white _woman_, and played on a wonderful music-box, such as they never had seen before, went like wild-fire through the village.

The building in which we hoped to have our meeting was set up on posts several feet from the ground, according to the custom. The door was reached by means of a ladder. How to get the people up into the house was the question that we must solve. We placed the organ well to the back side of the one large room, and posted the native helpers as to our purposes. At the appointed time the people began to come,--men, stripped to the waist as they came from their work; women smoking huge cheroots, with babies astride their hips; children of all sizes, some clothed, some naked. The missionary's wife took her place at the organ and played away, tune after tune, everything she could think of, from "Old Hundred" to "Gloria in Excelsis," and repeated the most of them. Everything depended upon the drawing power of the music. The preachers and Christian girls,--some up in the house, others down in the yard,--coaxed and urged the people up the ladder until we had filled the house. Up to this time I had kept well in the background on account of the more timid. My object accomplished, I now climbed up the ladder and seated myself in the door,--the only door there was. With back against one door-jamb, and knees against the other, I was the gladdest man on earth. We had trapped nearly the whole village! Fully seventy-five people who had persistently refused to listen to the gospel were penned in with the preachers. To crowd out over a white man, even had they dared to attempt it, would have been too great a breach of Burman etiquette. At a given signal the music stopped, and one of the preachers addressed the people. He was the very man whose wife had recently been beaten. He began by telling them how he had wanted for a long time to tell them about this new religion, but never had been permitted to do so. He reminded them of their action in beating his wife. "But," said he, "I have no hard feelings against you. This new religion is a religion of love. Its sacred book tells us that 'God is love,' and that He 'So loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish, but have eternal life.'" Then for about ten minutes, with wonderful tact and earnestness, he proclaimed Christ as the world's Saviour. After a tune on the organ, to keep the people interested and expectant, another preacher gave his message. Another tune, and then the third preacher emphasized what the others had spoken. For three-quarters of an hour these people, entrapped by strategy, listened to the gospel at short range, and were interested in spite of themselves. But two men who were specially bitter against the name of Christ, climbed out through a window and dropped to the ground.

In the outskirts of that village we found an aged couple who professed to be followers of Christ. They had heard the gospel elsewhere, and with what light they had, believed. The villages had utterly cut them off, refusing to sell to them, buy from them, or even allow them to draw water from the village well. But these old people had found the "Water of life." In their hearts shone all the light there was in that terribly benighted village. Both of them died in the faith a few years later. Many of the Karens have come down from the mountains and started villages of their own in the plains. Until the English had thoroughly subdued the country this was not possible, as the Karens were terribly oppressed by the Burmans. On one of our jungle tours we came across one of these Karen villages. Nearly all the men understood colloquial Burmese. They received the missionary party with great kindness, and eagerly listened to the gospel, which they had not heard before. The fifteen houses comprising the village were built at regular intervals around the outer edge of the small clearing they made in the forest.

In the open space the Karens were seated in a semicircle on the ground, with the missionary and native preachers in front.

We were about to sow precious seed in virgin soil. Not a soul had ever heard of Christ before. The story must begin at the beginning,--the Eternal God; the creation; the fall; the revelation of God in Jesus Christ--the Saviour of the world. As he went on to tell of Christ's majesty and holiness, of His wonderful words and works I was deeply stirred. Suddenly the face of the head-man lighted up, and with a twinkle in his eye he interrupted the preacher. Pointing to me he said: "Is this your Christ?" For a moment his question seemed merely ridiculous. But as the preacher continued his good work, my mind was busy with this heathen Karen's mistake. When it dawned upon me that he had actually mistaken me for Christ, I never was so overwhelmed in all my life. And yet, I thought, is it such a mistake? True, the God-man was infinitely superior to any human being. But the missionary represents, for the time, all that these people can know of Christ. They must see exemplified in me the principles of Christianity, and the spirit of its Founder. They must see His holiness reproduced in my daily life. As He, when tried at all points, was without sin; when reviled, reviled not again; emerging calm and triumphant from every distracting storm, so I must manifest the Master's spirit, and by His help preserve self-control under the most trying circumstances. They must see Christ truly represented in my life until they can look beyond, to Him who is the "Author and perfecter of our faith." That was a high standard set for me by that poor heathen Karen, but it has proved more helpful to me than anything in all my Christian experience. It stimulated me to strive the harder to be able to say to my people "Be ye imitators of me, as I also am of Christ."

The Burman race has the reputation of being thriftless and lazy. Many have prophesied that the "Burman must go to the wall" before the encroachments of natives of India, Chinese, and Karens. As seen in the chief towns the Burman has fairly earned such a reputation.

If he has government employment, even a petty clerkship, he is good for nothing else. Many are "birds of the night"--gamblers--and loafers by day.

The average citizen spends the most of his time in indolence, supported by his more enterprising wife.

But in the jungle villages we find a very different state of affairs. Few men are found in the village in the daytime. To prepare their land, plant, harvest, thresh, and market the crop of rice, requires diligent work almost the whole year round. I have almost regretted their diligence sometimes, when compelled to spend a day in almost idleness waiting for the men to return from their fields at sunset. Then an hour or so passes while they are getting their evening meal. By this time it is pitch dark, if there is no moon. There is not a lamp in the whole village. Ordinary methods will not attract tired men from their homes. There is no time for house-to-house preaching. But the Gospel _must be preached_. If we cannot reach them by day we must reach them by night. In the home-land a magic-lantern service is resorted to now and then, as a special attraction. We have come prepared to do the same in the jungle villages. Early in the day we clean up a spot in the centre of the village, and stretch our large white curtain between two trees, or support it by bamboo poles. A clean white sheet in a conspicuous place, is a novelty in itself sufficient to advertise the presence of outsiders. While tracts are being distributed from house to house the evening service is announced. If there is no musical instrument to call the people together the head-man is asked to sound his gong at the appointed time.

The magic lantern never fails to draw a crowd. But as the first picture is thrown upon the screen we notice that many are hanging back where they cannot see and hear to the best advantage. Then we discover that this has been mistaken for a traveling show, and that they are keeping out of reach of the collection plate. They can hardly believe our repeated assertion that all this is for them, "without money and without price." At last the crowd is gathered in as close as possible, the children sitting on the ground in front. At first we show a few pictures illustrating their own life and customs. How pleased they are when a Burmese damsel arrayed in gaudy skirt and flowers, appears on the screen. Then we pass to pictures illustrating mission work among their own people, taking care to emphasize the fact that Christianity has already made substantial progress in Burma,--has come to stay. By this time our dusky audience has become accustomed to the novelty of the situation, and is ready to settle down to look and listen.

Now we pass to our real purpose,--the setting forth of Jesus Christ as the world's Saviour. Often the preacher has been met with the demand, "Show us your God." That "God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship in spirit and truth" is beyond the comprehension of the heathen mind. He has no conception of an eternal, invisible God. He can point to his god in that idol-house on the hilltop, but where is the Christian's god? Great care is taken at the outset to make them understand that these pictures of Christ on the screen are in no sense idols; that we do not worship the pictures. Then each picture is made a text for a brief but earnest sermon, as we strive to convey to them, through eye and ear, some conception of the majesty, power, holiness, and love of God as revealed in Christ. There is a crisis when we reach the picture of the crucifixion. Christ is the Christian's God, and _his God is dead_. That thought is expressed in various exclamations. Up to this point we seemed to be carrying our audience with us, but now they slip from our grasp. For the moment the case seems lost, the message rejected. How earnestly we pray that the Holy Spirit will make "the attraction of the cross" realized by these heathen men and women. Have we made a mistake in displaying the cross in the first proclamation of the gospel in these villages? Surely "Christ and Him crucified" was the central theme of Paul's preaching, wherever he was. He Himself said, "And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me." This theme and this picture shall have their place,--we will leave the result with God. Without waiting for too much of a reaction we pass to the picture of the resurrection. At once the preacher gathers fresh courage. With earnestness and triumph in his voice he sets forth the glorious fact of the resurrection. "Yes, Christ died for our sins, but He laid down His life that He might take it again." After citing proofs of the resurrection we close with the ascension. Christ enthroned, with "All power in heaven and on earth," "ever liveth to make intercession for us."

The people fully understand that there has been nothing supernatural in the appearing of the pictures on the screen, and yet they are more deeply impressed than when appealed to through the ear alone. As one man expressed it, "How can we disbelieve, when we have seen with our own eyes." For day-work we sometimes use large coloured pictures illustrating the life of Christ. A bamboo pole is fastened up horizontally about five feet from the ground. The picture-roll is suspended under the pole so that each picture, when done with, can be thrown back over the pole. This method is very effective with the children, and can be used when the older people are at their work. Both old and young enjoy the pictures, for all have child-minds.

On one occasion we were preaching by this method in a Karen village. A middle aged Karen, a typical specimen of "the Great Unwashed," planted himself directly in front of the picture, intensely interested in what he saw and heard. As the young preacher graphically described some of Christ's miracles, or told of the sad events of the Passion Week, the man's face was a study. Its expression changed with the varying sentiment of the message,--now wreathed in a smile that showed all of his blackened teeth; now drawn down with a look of sadness that would have been comical but for the sacredness of the theme. The narration of Christ's heavenly words and works would be responded to by an "Ugh, Ugh" of approval; the story of His rejection, by the same grunts in a different tone, expressive of disapproval. This man, at least, was ripe for a personal application of the message.

Now and then we find a village in which is more than the usual amount of prejudice against Europeans. The people have suffered some real or imagined oppression. Not being able to discriminate between the missionary and the official, they naturally resent his coming.

Sometimes a whole day must be spent in disarming their fear. We learn that a man is sick with fever,--the medicine-box is opened and the sick man treated. Children come peeping around the corners, and we win them with picture-cards. A young mother goes by with her little one astride her hip, and we praise the baby. So by degrees we work our way into their confidence and prepare the way for our message.