31 Days of Missionary Stories: Jim Elliot’s Journals

I can’t not mention Jim and Elisabeth Elliot in a series like this. The first missionary book I can recall reading is Through Gates of Splendor, about Jim and four other men who were killed by the Indians they were trying to reach with the gospel, and the subsequent opening Elisabeth and Rachel Saint, sister to one of the other men, had with the same tribe. That touched off reading almost everything Elisabeth ever wrote plus many another missionary biography. Elisabeth, as many of you know, remarried after Jim died, lost that husband to cancer, and then remarried Lars Gren, but she kept Elisabeth Elliot as her pen name. She put out a newsletter for several years, and some excerpts from that and from some of her books were used in a daily e-mail devotional that used to be sent out by Back to the Bible. You can see those devotionals now on her website here. Lars posts updates every now and then here.

Incidentally, I just discovered that Jim and Elisabeth’s daughter, Valerie Elliot Shepard, wrote a children’s book about her childhood in the jungle titled Pilipinto’s Happiness. It is definitely going on my To Be Read list!

Journals of Jim ElliotSince I just reread and reviewed Through Gates of Splendor here at the end of June and included a lot of links and resources, I won’t repost that information, but I thought I’d include a few excerpts from Jim’s journals, as quoted by Elisabeth a a chapter titled “Not One Thing Has Failed” in her book Love Has a Price Tag. She edited and published the bulk of them in The Journals of Jim Elliot and included some excerpts and letters in her biography of him, Shadow of the Almighty, but here are just a few snippets. She explains:

Jim started his journal as a means of self-discipline. He began to get up early in the morning during his junior year in college to read the Bible and pray before classes. He was realistic enough to recognize the slim chances of fitting in any serious study and prayer later in the day. If it had priority on his list of things that mattered, it had to have chronological priority. To see that he did not waste the dearly-bought time, he began to note down on paper specific things he learned from the Word and specific things he asked for in prayer.

He recorded:

It is not written as a diary of my experiences or feelings, but as a ‘book of remembrance’ to enable me to ask definitely by forcing myself to put yearnings into words. All I have asked has not been given and the Father’s withholding has served to intensify my desires…. He promises water to the thirsty, satiation to the unsatisfied (I do not say dissatisfied), filling to the famished for righteousness. So has His concealing of Himself given me longings that can only be slaked when Psalm 17:15 [‘As for me I shall behold thy face in righteousness; when I awake I shall be satisfied with beholding thy form’] is realized.

Elisabeth writes:

“All I have asked has not been given.” Not, that is, in the way or at the time he might have predicted. Jim beheld the longed-for Face much sooner than he expected. It is startling to see, from the perspective of nearly thirty years, how much of what he asked was given, and given beyond his dreaming.

When Jim prayed for revival he was instructed by reading in David Brainerd’s diary how a revival came when Brainerd was sick, discouraged, and cast down, “little expecting that God had chosen the hour of his weakness,” Jim wrote, “for manifestation of His strength.”

 “I visited Indians at Crossweeksung,” Brainerd records, “Apprehending that it was my indispensable duty…. I cannot say I had any hopes of success. I do not know that my hopes respecting the conversion of the Indians were ever reduced to so low an ebb . . . yet this was the very season that God saw fittest to begin His glorious work in! And thus He ordained strength out of weakness . . . whence I learn that it is good to follow the path of duty, though in the midst of darkness and discouragement.”

Jim saw, in reading Brainerd, the value of his own journals. He also “was much encouraged to think of a life of godliness in the light of an early death…. Christianity has been analyzed, decried, refused by some; coolly eyed, submitted to, and its forms followed by others who call themselves Christians. But alas, what emptiness in both!

 “I have prayed for new men, fiery, reckless men, possessed of uncontrollably youthful passion–these lit by the Spirit of God. I have prayed for new words, explosive, direct, simple words. I have prayed for new miracles. Explaining old miracles will not do. If God is to be known as the God who does wonders in heaven and earth, then God must produce for this generation. Lord, fill preachers and preaching with Thy power. How long dare we go on without tears, without moral passions, hatred and love? Not long, I pray, Lord Jesus, not long.” I read these prayers now with awe–new men, new words, new miracles all granted as a result of this young man’s death.

He wrote in 1953 of watching an Indian die in a jungle house. “And so it will come to me one day, I kept thinking. I wonder if that little phrase I used to use in preaching was something of a prophecy: ‘Are you willing to lie in some native hut to die of a disease American doctors never heard of?’ I am still willing, Lord God. Whatever You say shall stand at my end time. But oh, I want to live to teach Your word. Lord, let me live ‘until I have declared Thy works to this generation.”‘

 Elisabeth concludes this chapter by marveling at how God answered Jim’s prayer “‘exceeding abundantly above all‘ that he had asked or thought” in so many who have been touched and spurred to consecrate themselves to God by the testimony of “the record of his young man-hood–the days which seemed so sterile, so useless, so devoid of any feelings of holiness, when God was at work shaping the character of a man who was to be his witness; the prayers which seemed to go unheard at the time, kept–as all the prayers of all his children are kept, incense for God–and answered after what would have seemed to Jim a long delay.”

 And, behold, this day I am going the way of all the earth: and ye know in all your hearts and in all your souls, that not one thing hath failed of all the good things which the Lord your God spake concerning you; all are come to pass unto you, and not one thing hath failed thereof.
Joshua 23:14

Here are a few other isolated quotes Jim Elliot is known for:

“I seek not a long life, but a full one, like you Lord Jesus.”

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.”

“Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.”

“Let not our longing slay the appetite of our living.”

“When it comes time to die, make sure that all you have to do is die.”

To those who thought he could be better used as a preacher at home, he wrote: “I dare not stay home while the Quichuas perish. What if the well-filled church in the homeland needs stirring?  They have the scriptures, Moses, and the prophets and a whole lot more.  Their condemnation is written on their bankbooks and in the dust on their Bible covers.”

“[He makes] His ministers a flame of fire. Am I ignitable? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of ‘other things.’ Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is transient, often short-lived. Canst thou bear this my soul—short life? In me there dwells the spirit of the Great Short-Lived, whose zeal for God’s house consumed Him.”

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Verda Peet: Sometimes I Prefer to Fuss

I wasn’t originally going to repost this review – I am finding I have more that I want to include for this series than I have days for. But as I was rereading it, I felt I really needed to, and it has been six years since it originally appeared here, so it will be new to many of you.

Sometimes I Prefer to Fuss_Some years ago I read and enjoyed a book titled Sometimes I Prefer to Fuss by Verda Peet. When I tried to find a copy of it, though, I found it was out of print. I’ve kept an eye out for it ever since, and discovered it in Amazon.com’s used books for just a few dollars (some copies are just a penny).

The premise of the book can be found in the introduction:

The idea that missionaries are haloed saints, mature and perfected, above the sins of most mortals and so not needing much prayer, has done great disservice to the missionary cause. If you ever lived with missionaries you would know that their halos are askew. If I were to say that a missionary preaches the gospel, may (if female) put curlers in her hair, likes ice cream, travels a lot, longs for letters from home, can be thoughtless or domineering or depressed, perspires, has cakes that don’t always rise, never gets beyond the need of the Lord’s teaching, is concerned about her children’s upbringing and education and feels irritable in the heat, your first thought would be, “Sounds like a description of me.”

Exactly. James tells us Elijah was a man of like passions but we have trouble believing it. Our glamorization of missionaries blinds us to the need of down-to-earth prayer for down-to-earth details.

The title comes from the fact that God does send help when needed, even for “small” irritations like excessive heat, perspiration, and sticky clothes — but sometimes we prefer to “fuss” instead.

Mrs. Peet and her husband were missionaries in Thailand for about thirty years. Her book is an honest and often funny look at missionary life, but its lessons of faith are applicable to anyone.

There are so many places I marked in the book — I wish I could share them all. One thing that came up often was the need for wisdom in so many areas and the possibility of misunderstandings. For instance, even the simplest living arrangements of Americans can seem extravagant in jungle or tribal areas. One missionary who wanted to live as much like the people as possible did without a refrigerator, then overheard two of the nationals commenting that she did not get one because she was stingy. Another family who saved some of their best “goodies” from home to serve a visiting VIP heard that he later spread the word that the missionaries “lived too well.” So often they would like to just give the people material things they need, and they often do, but they don’t want to foster dependence on the missionary instead of the Lord.

Satan throws innumerable obstacles to keep people from believing or to stifle them when they do believe. The missionaries have to learn patience with a new believer’s struggling to “walk” in a faith totally foreign to anything he knows — just as a child stumbles and falls, so will a new believer as he matures. Practices that seem obviously wrong to Westerners with a heritage of a Judeo-Christian background, like premarital sex and using and selling opium, can take a while for a new believer from a different background to recognize as wrong. Then a new believer, or even one just showing an interest in Christianity, can face ridicule, ostracism, and persecution. There are thorny questions about what old practices are wrong, what a new believer should do when the demon priest declares an area or a day “taboo.” The consequences of violating a taboo are very real, but the believers can eventually learn to trust in God for protection.

With all the disappointment and heartache of those who “trusted” the Lord for the wrong reasons (like healing from a sickness when the demon rituals didn’t help) or those who did believe but fell away due to family pressure, there are also gems who have endured the refining fires to shine like diamonds. One believing lady, Celia, had a husband who was a professing Christian but not living very actively for the Lord. One day he showed up in their home with a second wife and moved her in, a common practice in their culture, but one that he should have known better than to practice as a believer. As a missionary lady came to comfort and encourage her through the Word, Celia said, “I thought I could never cook for her (the second wife) but I remembered ‘love your enemies,’ and because of these words I overcame, and I cook and call her to eat.” I was convicted at my lack of “overcoming” minor trials by comparison.

Another quote that stood out to me was, “The trial of our faith is not to point out how faulty it is but to prove how trustworthy He is. I had always pictured God testing me to show how little I believed, but He has a more positive purpose — to increase my capacity to enjoy His faithfulness.”

Another “lesson” was to trust the sovereignty of God to work even through fallible leaders. There was an elected field council as well as a superintendent who were good men, but human like everyone else, whose temperament, background, training, quirks, and pet theories may affect their decisions. When they make a decisions that seems wrong or unfair, there is temptation to blame them. “If we see ourselves in the hands of men, we can expect to be miserable, but if we know ourselves to be in God’s hands, subject to His decisions, we can go on in peace.”

There is so much more — grace through trials and how the Lord uses them, dealing with fear, care of children, etc. This book is a good “peek” into the under-the-surface, real everyday lives of missionaries, but it is also an example of how the Lord uses “all things” to work together for good and to grow His children in grace and knowledge of Him.

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Margaret Stringer: A Merry Heart and a Faithful Spirit

Margaret Stringer

Margaret Stringer has been one of my favorite people for years. The church we attended in SC supported her in Indonesia (formerly known as Irian Jaya, now West Papua). She was there for a little over 40 years, and she “retired” (I always put that in quotation marks, because she is one of the most active retirees I know, traveling often to churches and missions conferences) not too far from our church, so we invited her to speak at least once a year to our ladies’ group. She would have us just rolling in the floor telling about situations which I’m sure weren’t funny when they first happened.

I’ve appreciated not only her merry heart, but also her faith and obedience. Many of us can’t imagine being the lone woman to go to visit a village of cannibals at the possible risk of our own lives. That sounds like something missionaries did way back, like Mary Slessor. But there are still people who haven’t heard of the Savior, and God’s ability to meet their needs as well as the needs of His messengers are still the same.

from_cannibalism_small.jpgA few years ago she wrote a book titled From Cannibalism to Christianity: The Vakabuis Story, which tells mainly how the Lord opened one particular group of villages, from first contact to the establishment of a full-fledged church. There are hilarious moments as well as frightening ones. But what joy there is in seeing the light of understanding dawn after repeated sharing of the gospel. I don’t remember if Margaret said this in the book, but I know I heard her say while speaking to us that there were moments when she thought, “This isn’t going to make sense to them.” Imagine sharing the Word of God with someone who doesn’t know anything about it and doesn’t know who God is. Yet they did share God’s Word by faith, and the Holy Spirit gave understanding and conviction.

Secularists don’t have to worry about the people’s culture being infringed on. The people still have their own traditions and culture. But they also have hope and life. As I said in an earlier post, I don’t know why anyone, even the most unchristian person on the planet, would have any objection to helping people get rid of traditions like cannibalism and killing a twin baby. I appreciated the way Margaret endeavored to help them not to be too dependent on her. When they asked her to name the church, for instance, she told them they should name it.

One of her major accomplishments while there was reducing two languages to writing and translating the Bible into them.

When she retired she thought she would never have an opportunity to go back, but she was able take a few trips back. One night at our ladies’ group she showed some video footage (24 minutes condensed from 5 hours) while she told us what was going on, interspersed with some history here and there of the people. I tell you — seeing footage of former cannibals and headhunters now singing hymns, hearing about the most powerful and feared witch doctor in the area who became a believer and whose son is now the head of the church — that just does something to your heart.

She told us about one man during a visit who said something like, “When you left us, I was very sad for a long time. But you told us you were leaving God here, and He helped me. So when you leave this time, I will be sad, but not for as long a time, because God is here with me.” She said that’s not exactly how she put it to him, but it was so neat he got the concept that God was still there and didn’t leave when she did, and he could depend on Him.

I was amazed at her fearlessness. In one piece of footage, she was getting out of a boat to see one of the villages she used to work in, and one man took her hand and began leading her away. Her friend said, “Where are you going?” She said, “I don’t know!” As people came to greet her and hug her, the man would stop for a few minutes, and then take her hand and lead her away again. Finally he led her to his house, where he had prepared lunch for them.

One of my favorite stories she tells is not in the book but is so characteristic of her. She was new to the field, which of course was an adjustment, and she was pretty low. A number of trying things had happened, one of them a big storm that had blown through the glassless windows and ruined about 95 % of her work of language analysis. After she went to bed, something fell off the wall and hit her on the head. That was the last straw: if I remember correctly, she “fussed” in her spirit at God, saying things like, “I thought you loved me! I thought you promised to take care of me!” She got a light to see what had fallen, and it was a plaque that said…”He cares for you.” That’s one way to get the message!

Margaret has also written several articles about becoming and working as a missionary here. This video, narrated by Margaret, tells the Vakabuis story in condensed form, well worth the 30 minutes it takes to watch:

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Dallas and Kay Washer, Candles in the Darkness

The names of Dallas and Kay washer were legend when I was in college. At that time I only knew they were missionaries in Togo, West Africa. I never had the opportunity to meet Dallas or hear him speak, but I was privileged to meet Kay several years later when my family lived in SC and two of her grandsons (Mike Washer of National Hoops and Jonathan Washer of National Goals, for those of you who know them) were youth pastors at our church. Kay became “Grandma Washer” to our ministry, speaking to the youth group a number of times and to the ladies once or twice. one-candle-lg.jpg

One saying Dal is known for is, “I have but one candle of life to burn and would rather burn it out where people are dying in darkness than in a land which is flooded with light.” (I had thought this saying was original with him, but it was a quote from John Keith Falconer.) So a few years ago when I saw Kay’s daughter-in-law at church with a stack of books with the title One Candle To Burn, I immediately went to her and asked if Kay had written a book. And she had! I bought one on the spot.

It was pure joy to read. It begins with Dallas and Kay’s childhood and call to the ministry, how the Lord led them together (she at first thought her sister was just right for him), a year of learning the language and Muslim customs in Algiers, then ministry first in Niger and then in Togo. There are many stories of open doors of ministry, people turning from darkness to light, and answers to prayer such as provision of land and finding a source of water for land for a hospital during the last attempt to drill for it. Compassion for the blind, who could only provide for themselves by begging, led Kay to take courses in Braille during one family vacation, then to teaching a few blind boys how to read, then eventually to the establishment of blind school where students get a regular academic education plus learn certain crafts or skills. She was surprised to be honored with the civilian medal of honor by Togo’s President Eyadema.

You get some idea of where the Washer adventurousness comes from when you read of Kay lying on her stomach strapped to the floor of a small plane with the door removed so she could film the maiden voyage of boat used as a floating mission station.

When people asked about her children’s safety and exposure to disease, she told them about an lawn mower accident resulting in the loss of toes of one of her sons — in America.

My heart was especially touched by the chapters dealing with Dallas’s death and later Kay’s serious fall which resulted in a broken arm and two broken bones in her leg and the long, complicated recovery period. At first she chafed under what felt like imprisonment, but later came to accept that this was God’s will for her at the time and to allow Him to work in and through her for a different kind of ministry.

There are many remarkable stories tracing God’s hand at work, laced with good humor and touching moments and lessons learned — all the more remarkable because the events are true. Love for God, for family, and for the people of Africa shines throughout.

I have been so glad to see this book. As much as I love the missionary classics, I believe it is incredibly important for missionaries of our time to record what the Lord has done. The same God who worked through Hudson Taylor and Amy Carmichael is still at work today!

You can read a bit more about Kay Washer here.

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: J. O. Fraser: Pianist and Engineer Turned Missionary

I first came across the name of J. O. Fraser in writings of Isobel Kuhn, whom I have mentioned here many times. The Lord used him to call Isobel to the mission field, and in later years he was her superintendent in China. Two good biographies of him are Behind the Ranges by Geraldine Taylor and a later one, Mountain Rain, by his daughter, Eileen Crossman. Both books contain many of Fraser’s letters and journal entries. They both appear to be out of print, but thankfully used copies and Kindle editions are available. His name is not as well known as Hudson Taylor and Amy Carmichael, but his remarkable life and character are well worth reading.

FraserJames Outram Fraser was born to a prominent English family in London in 1886. He was trained as both an engineer and a classical pianist. As a young man he came across a tract written to Christians urging them to give their lives to reach the lost in China. Something in it touched a heart prepared, and he at that time gave Christ “not the latch key, but the master key” of his life. He looked on that moment as his conversion.

After applying to the China Inland Mission and training, he went to China as a missionary. One market day in his village, he met some men from a tribe called the Lisu. His heart went out to them. They lived in the mountains of the area, six days journey northward. “I was very much led out in prayer for these people, right from the beginning. Something seemed to draw me to them; and the desire in my heart grew til it became a burden that God would give us hundreds of converts among the Lisu.” Workers were scarce in China: to go to the Lisu meant that James would have to go alone as an itinerant pioneer missionary traveling out to them from time to time as he could, and the Lisu villages were so spread out that he could not stay for long at one place. Other areas were more promising, but James felt led to the Lisu.

So he traveled to them and visited them. They were greatly open, friendly, cheerful, hospitable though living in poverty and squalor. James dressed as they dressed, ate as they ate, traveling on foot or by donkey up and down steep mountain ranges (and, by his description, thoroughly enjoying it!) He told them about the one true God. They listened well. Some were interested, but they lived in great fear. They did not worship idols. They worshiped demons themselves. They didn’t particularly want to or enjoy doing so, but they were trapped. The demons could quite literally make their lives miserable.

He learned much over time and with experience about how to work with the Lisu and about dealing with unseen principalities and powers. One article that came to him just when needed showed him “that deliverance from the power of the evil one comes through definite resistance on the grounds of the cross. I am an engineer and believe in things working. I want to see them work. I had found that much of the spiritual teaching one hears does not seem to work…The passive side of leaving everything to the Lord Jesus as our life, while blessedly true, was not all that was needed just then. Definite resistance on the ground of the cross was what brought me light….’Resist the devil’ is also Scripture (James 4:7). And I found that it worked. That cloud of depression dispersed. I found that I could have the victory in the spiritual realm whenever I wanted it. The Lord Himself resisted the devil vocally: ‘Get thee behind me, Satan!’ I, in humble dependence on Him, did the same. I talked to Satan at that time, using the promises of Scripture as weapons. And they worked. Right then, the terrible oppression began to pass away.”

He also leaned much on the intercessory prayer of others. He asked his mother to gather some prayer helpers, folks who would definitely undertake for his ministry in prayer. He began to correspond with them about what he was learning about prayer.

Little by little the seed of the Word was planted and the ground of hearts tilled. Little by little battles were fought for spiritual territory the evil one had claimed for himself; little by little ground was won. Just when James was ready to conceded that God’s time was not now for the Lisu, he made one “last” trip through all the villages, and then it was that the Lord of the harvest brought forth a bumper crop.

He found that even with as little teaching as he was able to give them before having to travel on to the next village, they taught others all they knew. The Lord eventually raised up more workers, and the church grew in numbers and in grace.

James wrote to his prayer helpers,

They [the Lisu] have not yet grown to military age in this spiritual warfare; they are babes in God’s nursery, not warriors in God’s army. But you have centuries of Christianity behind you, you have had Christian education, Christian influence, an open Bible, devotional helps, and many other things to help you in your growth to spiritual maturity. So now you belong to those of full stature in Christ, who are able to ‘help with power against the enemy.’ The vast difference between you and them is that you are ‘grown up’ in Christ, while they are babes and sucklings; and the work of pulling down Satan’s strongholds requires strong men, not infants.

He was asking his supporters to treat their prayer as more than a sideline. “I am trying to roll the main responsibility of this prayer-warfare on you,” he told them. “I want you to take the BURDEN of these people upon your shoulders, I want you to wrestle with God for them.”

 I feel like a businessman who perceives that a certain line of goods pays better than any other in his store, and who purposes making it his chief investment; who, in fact, sees an inexhaustible supply and an almost unlimited demand for a profitable article and intends to go in for it more than anything else.

The DEMAND is the lost state of these tens of thousands of Lisu and Kachin — their ignorance, their superstitions, their sinfulness; their bodies, their minds, their soul; the SUPPLY is the grace of God to meet his need — to be brought down to them by the persevering prayers of a considerable company of God’s people. All I want to do is, as a kind of middleman, to bring the supply and demand together.

The Lisu language had not been reduced to writing, so James developed a script which later became known as the Fraser alphabet and eventually translated the New Testament and other aids into Lisu.

One unique mark of his ministry was that the work was indigenous from the beginning. According to Wikipedia:

Fraser maintained a consistent policy of training the Lisu converts (usually whole households and whole villages at a time) to be self-supporting and to pay for their own books and church buildings. They raised their own funds for the support of pastors, of wives and children of their travelling evangelists and of festivals and other occasions. Unlike other missionaries of his generation, Fraser would not pay local preachers to go out, or for building local church structures, and this was something that put the Lisu in good stead for the years of Japanese occupation and the Communist persecution, particularly during the Chinese cultural revolution. Nevertheless tens of thousands of them fled during this era to neighboring Burma and Thailand. Fraser also left church government in the hands of Lisu elders; very little imprint was made on them that had a home church character, other than the tremendous prayer support the Fraser organised back in England for the Lisu and his work.

He also established the Rainy Season Bible Schools (Isobel Kuhn writes much about these),  systematic Bible study during the times when they could not work at their farming.

When James returned from furlough, he was needed in a different area of China: those in charge felt his experience would be best suited to the needs of that region. He was greatly disappointed. F.B. Meyer prayed, “I can’t say I’m willing, Lord, but I’m willing to be made willing,”  and James seemed to know that kind of prayer as well. He “knew the barrenness of obeying reluctantly. Recognition that God’s will was ‘perfect and acceptable’ would be costly, but it was always fruitful.”

He had not planned to be married, but the Lord definitely led in his marriage at the age of 42. He was drawn more into the administrative side of the work as God raised up more laborers in the field, and they counted his help and guidance as greatly valuable. All were stunned at his death at the age of 52 from malignant cerebral malaria.

In character he was known as a godly man with a quick mind, “ahead of his time” in missionary work and methods, kindly, humorous.  One traveling with him once said, “Mr. Fraser is a gentleman to his fingertips. There was nothing of lightness or flippancy. Wisdom governed him and every propriety was observed…He was the perfect gentleman in the dirtiest and dingiest Chinese inns…Every courtesy was observed. Every kindness was done. The depth of his inward life in Christ was never more manifest than in his attention to those hundred and one little things which make comfort for others.”

I discovered a DVD called Breakthrough: The Story of James O. Fraser and the Lisu People, but I have not seen it. Here is a trailer for it:

You can read more about Fraser online here:

About James O. Fraser (Overseas Missionary Fellowship site, formerly the China Inland Mission)
Quotes of J. O. Fraser
J. O. Fraser: Biographical Sketch
The Prayer of Faith

(You can see other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Rosalind Goforth, a Woman “of Like Passions” As We Are

ClimbingI mentioned Rosalind Goforth in the second post of this series and the unique ways God answered her very human and what we might consider mundane but serious needs for clothes for her children. After she had written Goforth of China, a biography of her husband, and How I Know God Answers Prayer (all or most of the text of this book is here, and it is free for the Kindle for a time here), she was asked to write something about her own perspectives and struggles after nearly a lifetime on the mission field. The result of that request is Climbing, her own story of answered prayer and personal struggles, one of my top three favorite missionary books. Being of like passions as we are, she very honestly and transparently writes of such things as overhearing two Chinese women talking about her quick temper and impatience and wishing she would live more as she preached. At first she was angry, but then realized it was all too true. She struggled with this for years, until much later the Chinese servants who had wanted to avoid her now wanted to be around her and serve her, wondering what had caused the change in her.

She tells of the work of God in many a life, of many funny experiences as well as trying ones, of multitudes of direct answers to prayer for helpers, for monetary and health needs, for protection, for grace and strength, even for everyday practical things like help to find a proper hat (after being criticized, sadly, by probably well-meaning women when she came home on furlough.)

Like any mother with young children, she struggled to have time alone with the Lord. She writes:

A devoted Christian missionary, Mrs. S, was holding a series of special meetings for our Christian women at Changte. On one occasion, this dear woman, who had no children, told me that I could never have the peace and joy I longed for unless I rose early and spent from one to two hours with the Lord in prayer and Bible study.

I longed intensely for God’s best — for all He could give me, not only to help me live the true Christian life but also for peace and rest of soul. So I determined to do what Mrs. S. had advised.

The following morning, about half-past five o’clock, I slipped as noiselessly as possible out of bed. (My husband had already gone to his study.) I had taken only a step or two when first one and then another little head bobbed up; then came calls of, “Mother is it time to get up?”

“Hush, hush, no, no,” I whispered as I went back, but too late; the baby had wakened! So, of course, the morning circus began an hour too soon.

But I did not give up easily. Morning after morning I tried rising early for the morning watch, but always with the same result. So I went back to the old way of just praying quietly — too often just sleeping! Oh, how I envied my husband, who could have an hour or more of uninterrupted Bible study while I could not. This led me to form the habit of memorizing Scripture, which became an untold blessing to me. I took advantage of odd opportunities on cart, train, or when dressing, always to have a Bible or Testament at hand so that in the early mornings I could recall precious promises and passages of Scripture (pp. 75-76).

One day when she was especially busy, she received a note from another missionary lady who was supposed to take a women’s meeting but found out she couldn’t and asked Rosalind to at nearly the last minute. She needed to nurse her baby, and she set her Bible up where she could see it. Her husband came in just then and said, “It puzzles me how you can address a meeting with so little preparation.” She responded, “Jonathan, if I had time like you, I could not expect to get a message in so short a time, but the fact is the Lord suits His help to me as a mother!” (p. 112). I’ve benefited from her studies on what God does with our sin and conditions for receiving strength.

I’ve been convicted along with her as she shares. During most of the time the Goforths ministered, the Chinese were quite suspicious of and disdainful toward “foreign devils.” To try to alleviate those feelings and establish relationships with the Chinese, the Goforths would allow crowds of the curious into their home to look around and to talk with them. This resulted in some agitation and disruption as well as theft of some of their belongings, but over all they felt it was worth it. Of one particular day, Rosalind writes:

The day had been an unusually strenuous one, and I was really very tired. Toward evening, a crowd of women burst through the living room door and came trooping in before I had time to meet them outside. One woman set herself out to make things unpleasant. She was rough and repulsive and– well, just indescribably filthy. I paid no attention to her except to treat her as courteously as the rest. But when she put both hands to her nose, saying loudly, “Oh, these foreign devils, the smell of their home is unbearable!”, my temper rose in a flash and, turning on her with anger, I said, “How dare you speak like that? Leave the room!” The crowd, sensing a “storm,” fled. I heard one say, “That foreign devil woman has a temper just like ours!”

Now, I had not noticed that the door of my husband’s study was ajar, not did I know that he was inside, until, as the last woman disappeared, the door opened and he came forward, looking solemn and stern. “Rose, how could you so forget yourself?” he said. “Do you realize that just one such incident may undo months of self-sacrificing, loving service?”

“But Jonathan” I returned, “you don’t know how she — “

But he interrupted. “Yes, I do; I heard all. You certainly had reason to be annoyed; but were you justified, with all that is hanging in the balance and God’s grace to keep you patient?”

As he turned to re-enter his study, he said, “All I can say is I am disappointed!

Oh, how that last word cut me! I deserved it, yes, but, oh, I did so want to reach up to the high ideals he had. A tempestuous time followed alone in our inner room with my Lord. as I look back now, it was all just one farther step up the rocky hillside of life — just climbing! (pp. 45-46).

GoforthsThough the Goforths faced many personal hardships and losses, “Sometimes when letters would reach us from the homeland expressing pity for us, how my husband would laugh as I read them to him. ‘Pity,’ he would say, ‘why this is the most glorious life possible!’ Yes, it was indeed!” (p. 69).

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

 

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

What’s On Your Nightstand: October 2013

What's On Your NightstandThe folks at 5 Minutes For Books host What’s On Your Nightstand? the fourth Tuesday of each month in which we can share about the books we have been reading and/or plan to read.

I just realized Monday that the monthly nightstand post was scheduled for today rather than next week, since this is the fourth Tuesday of the month. My initial reaction: “Drat!” 🙂 Don’t get me wrong, this is one of my favorite monthly events, but I just finished two books and am almost done with another, and had planned to review them this week in anticipation of the Nightstand posts I thought were coming next week. It’s months like these that make me wish the Nightstand meme came at the end of the month instead of the fourth Tuesday….but, oh well. I’ll adapt. 🙂

Since last time I have completed:

The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart, audiobook, not reviewed. The children come together for a reunion with each other and Mr. Benedict a year after their adventure in the last book, only to find that Mr. B. is missing. They each have to employ their special skills to help find him and learn the best times and ways to use those skills. Still a fun book though I didn’t like it quite as well as the first. The audiobook was read by an older man (maybe supposed to sound like a grandpa or Mr. B. telling the story? I don’t know). But since most of the dialogue occurs between the children, it seemed odd to hear them in an older voice which didn’t vary or try to sound differently from person to person, so that may have affected my perception.

The Chance by Karen Kingsbury, audiobook, review coming soon.

Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas, also hope to review this soon, but I marked a lot of places in it, so it may take me a while.

Her Husband’s Crown by Sara Leone, a reader who graciously sent me a copy, not reviewed. Sara writes as a missionary and pastor’s wife to other pastor’s wives, but much of the 48-page booklet is applicable to any Christian wife. A great resource.

I’m currently reading:

A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. Almost done with it. It’s mainly about his relationship with his wife, how they went from atheism to Christianity, her illness and death (no spoiler – this information is related up front), how he dealt with it, and his letters with his friend, C. S. Lewis, through much of it.

The Healer’s Apprentice by Melanie Dickerson, a sort-of retelling of Cinderella. Not enjoying it quite as much so far as the Beauty-and-the-Beast-inspired The Merchant’s Daughter (linked to my thoughts), but we’ll see how it ends up.

Next up:

Lost and Found by Ginny Yttrup

Jennifer: An O’Malley Love Story by Dee Henderson

Granny Brand, Her Story by Dorothy Clarke Wilson. I read this years ago but had borrowed it through our ladies’ group library at another town and church, so when I wanted to reread it I found some used copies online. Evelyn Brand is the mother of Paul Brand, author of The Gift of Pain, which I’ve not read, but I have read a biography of his  called Ten Fingers For God by the same author, which I also ordered and want to read again some time.

Little Women for Carrie’s Reading to Know Book Club for November, one I’ve reread many times and love every time.

That looks like the least I’ve read in any given month in a long time, though Bonhoeffer was a very long book, so that took up quite a bit of time, and I’ve been spending time this month going through 31 Days of Missionary Stories. Most of the books I’ve referenced in that series I’ve read long ago, so I didn’t list them here, but I invite you to take a look. Missionary biographies have been a major influence on my own life and faith over the years.

Have you read any good books lately?

31 Days of Missionary Stories: William Carey: “Attempt great things for God. Expect great things from God.”

CareyNo series like this would be complete without mention of William Carey, who is known as the “Father of Modern Missions.” In reading of his life, one cannot help but be struck by the providence of God in preparing and directing him and the perseverance of William Carey in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

He was born near Northampton, England in 1761 to a poor weaver. When he was six, his father was appointed a clerk for the Church of England. William loved to read, and in that day most books were only owned by rich people and clergymen; so with his father’s new appointment came many opportunities to borrow books. William was fascinated by tales of explorers and other lands. He was also very quick with languages. He taught himself Latin from an old book of his uncle’s that he found along with an old dusty Latin grammar book his father had found. Later on as a teenager, after finding a book of Greek, he found someone to teach it to him, and quickly picked it up as well.

William completed the schooling available to him at the age of 12 (only those who could afford to continued their formal education beyond that; William’s family could not.) William loved the outdoors and went to work on a farm; however, he got a painful rash on his hands and face whenever he was out in the sun. He tried to continue the work for two years, but finally had to give it up. It is likely that if he had continued on in that labor, he would have remained a poor farmer all his life. Instead, his father apprenticed him to a shoemaker. William was able to work with a book propped up nearby and continued to learn. The other apprentice was a “dissenter” — one who disagreed with much in the Church of England. They had some lively arguments, but in the end William became a dissenter, too, eventually becoming one of their preachers. After a few years, a congregation called him to be their pastor.

William was also able to teach school. His geography lessons spurred not only his love of learning, but his compassion for people in other lands who did not know Christ. His interest grew into a passion which compelled him to action.

Churches didn’t send out missionaries in the late 1700s — at least not Dissenting English churches. Many felt that the “Great Commission” was given to 11 disciples in the New Testament and wasn’t applicable in modern times. At a minister’s meeting, William tried to share his burden and vision for reaching the lost in other lands. He was told by an older pastor, “Young man, sit down! If God wants to convert the heathen, He will do it without consulting you — or me!” He was soundly rebuked as a “miserable enthusiast.” This drove William to study to see if the minister was right, but he became more convinced than ever that they had a responsibility to the heathen. The more he studied about other countries, the more he felt burdened for souls lost in darkness: the more He studied Scripture, the more he saw evidence that the church was indeed called to spread the gospel.

Since the subject caused such dissension in public meetings, he began to talk with other pastors individually. He was urged to write a pamphlet and eventually was able to so, only the “pamphlet” turned into an eighty-seven-page book with a forty-two-word title. It became known as the Enquiry. In it, William addressed some common misconceptions:

Objection: How do we know that this command is still valid? Not even divine injunctions abide forever. They have their periods and pass, like the Levitical law.

Reply: Nay, divine injunctions abide till they have fulfilled their function. Who can think this command exhausted, with the majority of mankind not yet acquainted with Christ’s name?

Objection: But Christ’s command could scarcely have been absolute, seeing they never heard of vast parts of the globe — the South Seas, for example — nor could these be reached. Neither can we think it absolute today, with very large regions still unknown and unopened.

Reply: As they (the apostles) were responsible for going according to their strength into all their accessible world, we are in duty bound to speed into our much enlarged world. Indeed, we ought to be keen to go everywhere for Christ, till all closed doors are open.

Other sections of the book listed the history of missions in the world, the facts as they knew them about the world at the time (including the fact that an estimated 76% or 557 million souls were lost), practical considerations, and the duty of every Christian (to pray, to plod, and to plan).

Soon after his book was published, there was a ministers’ meeting. William brought his book and gave copies to those who were interested. At his opportunity to preach, he chose the text from Isaiah 54:2: “Enlarge the place of thy tent, and let them stretch forth the curtains of thine habitations: spare not, lengthen thy cords, and strengthen thy stakes.” He urged the obligation of missions, concluding with the phrase famous to us now, “Brothers, attempt great things for God. Expect great things from God.” Some of the ministers were shaken. Yet later on, in the business meeting, there were no resolutions and no discussion about missions. When the meeting was adjourned, “William leaped to his feet. ‘Is nothing going to be done again?’” He compared them to the ten scouts of Moses. One man moved to reopen for business, and a majority agreed. Within minutes they passed a resolution: “Resolved, that a plan be prepared against the next ministers meeting at Kettering, for forming a Baptist Society for propagating the gospel among the Heathens.”

Opposition still abounded.  Some felt the church could not afford such a thing. Only two dozen of the congregations in their Association approved.

In the next months, William was led to offer himself as their first appointee. His wife flatly refused to go (though she eventually relented, a depression that began when her first baby died continued to grow. She was mentally unstable a good portion of her adult life.) His father was bitterly opposed. The East India Company feared missionaries would interfere with their trade and opposed them; in fact, William could have been arrested and deported except that a Dutch settlement in India took him in.

Though he had many hearers, there were no converts for seven long years. The first convert was bitterly persecuted, but his family and others to turned to Christ instead of away from Him.

William’s facility with languages led to translating the gospel into several. Other missionaries eventually followed, with churches and a school established. Thanks to one man’s perseverance and God’s grace to him, many were saved and a great work was done that not only impacted Carey’s world for God, but continues to have influence on believers today.

William Carey was a shining example of his own motto, “Attempt great things for God. Expect great things from God,” but near the end of his life, when another missionary came to visit him and discuss his work, William said, “You have been speaking about William Carey. When I am gone, say nothing about William Carey — speak only about William Carey’s Savior.”

William died on June 9, 1834. The epitaph on his tombstone reads:

“A wretched, poor, and helpless worm
on Thy kind arms I fall.”

(Some information taken from William Carey, Father of Modern Missions by Sam Wellman.)

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Eric Liddell: Olympian and Missionary

liddell The world knows the name Eric Liddell as the winner of the gold medal for the 400 meter race in the 1924 Olympics (portrayed in the film Chariots of Fire). Many know, further, that he did not originally train for that race: he had trained for the 100 meter race, but, dismayed to find that the race was to be held on Sunday, the Lord’s day, he refused to run it and was allowed to switch to the 400 meter. Perhaps fewer still know that he was born to missionary parents and went back to China as a missionary himself.

The biography Eric Liddell by Catherine Swift (Men of Faith Eric Liddell(series, Bethany House Publishers) details his parents’ testimony and early experiences in China. (Incidentally, this book includes the best concise exposition that I have ever read of the famed Chinese Boxer Rebellion, in which many missionaries were killed or driven from China.) Eric was born Jan. 16, 1902, in Tientsin in North China. His parents were originally from Scotland: Eric’s first visit there occurred during his parents’ first furlough when Eric was five.

At this time missionary children were usually educated in boarding schools, so Eric and his older brother Robbie stayed behind at the London Missionary School when their parents went back to China. Eric was thin, in frail health, and very shy at first, but flourished under the headmaster’s practice of his motto, “Healthy minds in healthy bodies.” Although gaining confidence and overcoming much of his shyness, he remained a relatively quiet personality. He began attending voluntary Bible classes in his teens, never taking part in the discussions, but thinking over them when he was alone.

He played cricket and rugby well and especially enjoyed running (interesting since there was concern during an early childhood illness that he might never run), winning many athletic honors: yet he was known for his humility and his not letting any of it go to his head.
Eric had a rather odd running style: “He had a habit of running with his head rested back on his shoulders, gazing up at the heavens instead of where he was going. His knees came right up as though he was trying to hit his own chin, and he lifted his feet far too high off the ground. His arms waved about sporadically and his fists punched at the air, making him look more like a boxer than a runner.”

During Eric’s college years he became well known for his running. At one point some students began evangelistic work in the area and had a particularly hard time reaching the men. One student thought of asking Eric to speak, thinking what fame he had would attract the men. Though he hated “the limelight,” Eric agreed to go. He very quietly and humbly spoke of God and his love for Him and trust in Him. That experience awakened in him a desire to more openly share His Lord with others and began a public ministry.

When Eric began training for the 1924 Olympics in Paris, it never occurred to him that the match would be held on Sunday, as well as two relays he could have competed in. When he saw the schedule, long before the event, he simply felt he could not participate and violate his convictions and dishonor the Lord and His Day. He did not make a big fuss about it — but others did. He received much criticism and was even accused of being a traitor to his country. The authorities tried to get the schedule changed, to no avail, then they asked Eric to compete in the 200 and 400 meter races instead. On Wednesday of the Olympic Games, Eric ran in the 200 meter race, winning a bronze medal, which no Scotsman had even done. Then on Friday, as he was leaving his hotel for the 400 meter race, his regular masseur handed him a slip of paper. Later in a quiet moment, Eric unfolded the paper to read, “In the old book it says, ‘He that honors me I will honor.’ Wishing you the best of success always.” This reinforced to Eric the word he had been resting on, “Whosoever believeth in me shall not be ashamed,” and encouraged him. To everyone’s surprise, he not only won the gold medal in that race, but set a new world record.

Just a few weeks later he publicly announced his plans to be a missionary in China, teaching at a college in the city in which he was born. He spent another year in England, holding campaigns and studying theology.

Eric ministered in China for several years, married, had two daughters and was expecting a third while unrest brewed: nationalists and Communists were fighting each other while the Japanese were creeping in. Eventually the Japanese gained control of their area and were talking about sending all missionaries to internment camps. Eric sent his wife and daughters to Canada. The Christians who were left found creative ways to get around the ban on church services, such as inviting each other to “tea” on Sundays. Just a few weeks before Eric expected to leave, all British and American missionaries were sent to an internment camp several miles away. Eric quietly ministered there in many ways. In another book, A Boy’s War, David Michell, who was a boy in the internment camps at the time, tells of his memories of “Uncle Eric,” as he was known to the children. Eric fell ill and gradually grew worse: eventually he and others knew from his symptoms that he had a brain tumor. His last words were, “It’s complete surrender,” a phrase he had used often in his life and ministry.

The world was stunned to learn of Eric’s death at the age of 43 just a few weeks before World War II ended. Memorial services were held in many places. His life still reaches out even now, nearly 60 years after his death, as an example of quiet, humble servitude and a life that honors God.

Here is a video of Eric Liddell’s and Harold Abraham’s races in the 1924 Olympics:

And this is pretty neat: Day of Discovery took Liddell’s three grown daughters back to China for the first time since their father had sent them to safety in 1941:

One quote of Liddell’s that I have in my files is “Circumstances may appear to wreck our lives and God’s plans, but God is not helpless among the ruins.” I don’t remember the context in which he said these words, but they are a fitting epitaph to his life.

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)

31 Days of Missionary Stories: Spirit of the Rainforest: A Yanomamo Shaman’s Story

I reviewed this book a few years ago, but I felt that I must include it in this series. This is a current missionary story published in 2000.

rainforest.jpgJungle Mom (who now blogs at Livin’ la Rita Loca) is a missionary that our church in SC supported, and she recommended to me the book Spirit of the Rainforest: A Yanomamo Shaman’s Story by Mark Ritchie. If I understand correctly, the Yanomamo territory bordered the Yekwana Indians that the she and her husband worked with, and the they knew many Yanomamo and their ways and some of the people in this book.

This book is not for the faint of heart, however. It is not gratuitous, but it is graphic and very frank in its dealings with demonism, violence, and the treatment of women. It is told through the eyes of “Jungleman,” a powerful shaman. It is interesting to see things through his perspective (told by him to the author, who wrote them down and confirmed the incidents with others).

He tells first of all of the Yanomamo policy of revenge. Any incident calls for revenge from the family or village sinned against, which usually involves a raid on the offending village, clubbings, and capture and group rape of women. The extent of the raid can vary — in some cases two opposing warriors take turns clubbing each other over the head or across the chest. In more serious offenses every male is killed and the remaining women are assaulted multiple times and then carried off to become wives of the raiding village. If a captured woman tries to run away, she is beaten or killed. Children of the raided village are often brutally killed, occasionally captured.

Such raids did not satisfy the revenge, however: it sparked more revenge. Any remaining men or any relatives who lived in other villages were then expected to exact revenge on the raiding village. A war once begun never stopped. In between raids, villages were afraid to go out into their gardens or out to find food, always fearful of an ambush. Sometimes they broke up camp and wandered in the jungle looking for food. Sometimes mighty warriors woke up with nightmares, haunted by the cries of those that they killed. Yet they could never admit this: fierceness was the most valued characteristic in a Yanamamo male.

Gradually white nabas (their word for non-Yanomamo) began to appear in the jungle. They “talked like babies” but sometimes had useful things to trade. The Indians quickly learned, however, through hard trial and error, that all nabas were not the same. Some were interested in trading, some were interested in helping, but some were evil and interested in exploiting (they knew some earned money by taking and selling pictures of them [one even told them to take off their clothes so the pictures he took and sold would be more “authentic”] and stories about them, but there were others whose exploitation was much, much worse). There were a few, however, who said they were followers of the one the Yanomamo regarded as the great enemy spirit. They said the Indians misunderstood Him, that He loved them and had a better way to live. The Yanomamo were naturally suspicious, but they kept interacting with them because of the items they would trade or because of the medical help, and later because of the peace they exhibited. Jungleman and others’ spirits became troubled every time they were near the village where the nabas lived and begged the shamans not to ‘throw them away.”

To me there were several major benefits to this book. One was the fascinating look into Yanomamo culture. One was the immense power of the gospel to miraculously change lives in those who receive it. It was thrilling to read of those who came to believe and how they changed and grew and began to understand the ways in which they had been deceived.

Another major value of this book is the truth that these “primitive” peoples are not living happy lives frolicking in an idyllic Eden. I don’t know if you realize this, but there is a large and growing segment of the population who believes that such people should be left alone to Western influence all together and especially Christianity. As I said in another post months ago, these people deserve as much chance as anyone else has to hear the gospel and have the choice to change their ways.

The following is an interview between “Doesn’t Miss” (their name for the author), Keleewa, the missionary who interpreted, and a Yanomamo called Hairy on pages 180-183:

“The naba wants to know why you want to change the way you live out here in the jungle,” Keleewa said to Hairy after Doesn’tMiss talked.

Hairy was surprised at the question. “Because we’re miserable out here. We are miserable all the time. The people from Honey [predominantly Christian village] came here and made peace with us many seasons ago and their village keeps getting better. We want that for us. If it means throwing spirits away and getting new ones, we will do it. [This is not something said lightly. Many were under the impression that they would be killed if they tried to get rid of their spirits.] But we need someone to teach us these new ways.”

Hairy didn’t have spirits because he was not a shaman. But he followed everything the spirits told his shaman. I knew my spirits would be very irritated if Hairy quit following the spirits. No one who has killed as often and as long as Hairy could ever stop it…

Doesn’t Miss talked with Keleewa for a while. Keleewa paused and thought how to say what the naba said. Then he told Hairy, “He says there are many people in his land that don’t think that he, or any of us, should be here helping you at all. They say that you’re happy here and that we should leave you alone. He wants to know what an experienced killer like you would say to them.”

Hairy grew even more serious. “I say to you, please don’t listen to the people who say that. We need help so bad. We are so miserable here and our misery never stops. Night and day it goes on. Do those people think we don’t suffer when bugs bite us? If they think this is such a happy place out here in the jungle, why aren’t they moving here to enjoy this beautiful life with us?”

Doesn’t-Miss was quiet. Then he got out of his hammock and walked down the trail…When he was too far away to hear, Hairy said to Keleewa, “Is he stupid? Doesn’t he have eyes? Can’t he see these lean-tos we call houses? Can’t he see us roam the jungle every day, searching for food that isn’t here, so we can starve slower? Can’t he see that our village is almost gone, that this move we are making now is our last hope to stay alive?”

Keleewa was slow to answer. He knew Hairy wouldn’t understand what he was about to say. “Most nabas think just like him,” Keleewa told Hairy, and shook his head because he knew he couldn’t explain why.

“Nobody’s that stupid,” Hairy snapped. “They must hate us. They think we’re animals.”

Later Hairy asked Keleewa what they had to do to get a white naba to come to their village and live with them and teach them about Yai Pada (God), offering to clear an airstrip. Kelweewa promised that if they cleared an airstrip someone would come. That day Hairy and his people began clearing the jungle, and Hairy “remembered the wife he had killed. ‘I don’t want to treat women like that any more,’ he thought. ‘I don’t want my children to be killers like me. I want them to follow the spirit of this man of peace. I want us all to be free of our past. I want to sleep again’” (p. 230).

Another time (page 202) an antro (Yanomamo word for the kind of naba who took pictures of them and wrote about them) scolded an Indian named Shortman:

“Don’t you ever speak to me in Spanish! You are a Yanomamo and will always be a Yanomamo. You have no business throwing away your true ways and trying to copy nabas with their clothes, watches, motors, and now even changing to Spanish! Don’t ever speak to me in Spanish again! You want to talk to me? Use Yanomamo.”

“What’s that in your lower lip there?” Shortman asked…

“That’s my wad of tobacco,” the antro answered.

“Where did you learn to chew tobacco that way?” asked Shortman.

“I learned it from your people.”

“You saw us chew tobacco that way and you tried it and you liked it. So you copied us, didn’t you?”

“That’s right,” the antro said, with some pride in his Indian ways.

Shortman shrugged. “If you can copy us,” he paused with a puzzled look, ”then we can copy you.”

Somehow the shamans could “see” when another person had spirits, and they had identified some of the evil nabas as having spirits that the nabas themselves didn’t know about. At one point when Shoefoot, leader of Honey village, came to America with the author, he “identified the signs and symbols of many of the spirits right here in our ‘civilized’ culture. He has no problem understanding the Columbine High School massacre or any other killing spree. The spirits of anger and hatred that own and drive a person are spirits he has known personally. He knows what it means to kill under the influence of something or someone. So when a student asks…”Why can’t you get rid of your spirits without converting to Christianity?’ his answer is simple. ‘I don’t know any other way to get rid of the spirits that are destroying us. And no other shaman does, either’” (p. 251).

(You can see a list of other posts in the 31 Days of Missionary Stories here.)

(This will also be linked to Semicolon‘s Saturday Review of Books.)