Days of Grace in Manchuria

Author Unknown

“The Lord gave the Word great was the company of those that published it.”’

THE Revival in the country districts round about Mukden was not less remarkable than that in the city itself. It was my privilege to have a share in it, and I shall attempt to describe it as I myself saw it and as I have heard of it from, others who took part in it.

To begin with, let me tell you a little about these out-stations. There are over twenty such stations, established in villages or market towns round Mukden — in all directions, from seven to thirty English miles from the city. They have each a place of worship of one kind or another, and an embryo congregation of believers gathered from many villages around. They all date from the period of the great ingathering which followed after the Chino-Japanese War of 1894. During those memorable years the missionaries had so much work to do among the multitudes who were seeking admission into the Church that there was little time available for teaching or organising the young converts.

When the I900 tribulation descended upon them it came like a thief in the night. They were not prepared. Their sufferings during that terrible Their sufferings during that terrible time can never be told. Many denied their Lord. They were Christians — in name at least — hence their bitter sufferings, but they were Chinamen. A lie was a little thing to them then, and life was sweet. So they lied — and lived. Meanwhile, all their property was taken from them, their houses and chapels burned down, and, to all outward seeming, the vine was torn up by the roots. But it revived again. The people returned to their old homes after the terror was over; they built up their ruined homesteads, and sowed and reaped as in former years. Better still, many of them repented their lie, and once more vowed allegiance to their Lord. The waste places were restored, and a time of prosperity, temporal and spiritual, seemed to have dawned.

Then, the Russo-Japanese War broke out. The contending armies swept the fields and farmyards bare. The Christians, sharing in the common lot of all, were driven from their homes. Public worship was impossible. Missionary visitation was prohibited. Churches and chapels were used as barracks by the Russians, and torn down for fuel by the Japanese. It was indeed “a terrible day,” following so hard upon the blight of I900. “That which the palmerworm had left hath the locust eaten; and that which the locust hath left hath the cankerworm eaten.” It was with them as in Joel’s day, and the people said Is not meat cut off before our eyes, yea, joy and gladness from the house of our God? “ For a time the people were soured. Faith and hope withered and almost died out. But gradually a change came. Temporal prosperity returned with a succession of good harvests after the war. Once more they gathered for the worship of their common Lord; their meeting-places one by one were restored, and although there was much coldness, formality and general spiritual stagnation to be deplored, still the out-stations of Mukden at the beginning of this year of grace (I908) had at least “a name to live.’’

I mention these things by way of preface to what follows, and to show the sort of preparation which our out-stations had undergone for this special mission.

It was my lot to be sent, along with our minister’s son, Dr. Liu, and another, to a district thirty miles south-east of the city. We had three stations to visit — Tuerto, Szefangtai, and Panchiapu. They were said to be the most backward of all.

At dusk on Tuesday, March I0th, we arrived at the village of Tuerto. Dr. Liu at once suggested sending messengers to all the villages where there were Christians, telling them of the meetings, and inviting them to come. This was done, and on Wednesday morning sixty people had gathered. We told them the story of the past three weeks in Mukden — nothing more. They listened with an air of wonderment and thoughtfulness. At the evening meeting one noticed a troubled look on many faces, but when we called for prayer only one responded, formal, stereotyped. Next morning Dr. Liu and I walked out together. He was greatly troubled, thought he had made a mistake in coming, that he was not the man for this sort of thing. We came to a wooded copse, and the doctor suggested prayer. We knelt by an old willow, and he poured out his heart to God. “Guide us,” he prayed, “as to who shall speak, what we shall say, or whether we should speak at all.” He seemed like one inspired.

We returned to the meeting. We sang a hymn. Dr. Liu said we might have a time of silent prayer, and if any one felt disposed he might pray aloud. Presently came a sob from a man in the front seat, and a broken-hearted prayer for mercy. Another followed in the same way. Several men and women were weeping. Then a man came up from the back seat, saying “I wish to speak.” He was the principal deacon of the place. His first few words were spoken with difficulty. But presently he gained control of himself, and said “You all know me. I have been passing as a good, sincere Christian man among you. I am nothing of the sort. Formerly I was delighted when a missionary or an evangelist came here, but when I heard they were coming on this occasion I was not pleased. I felt this was no ordinary visit. Yesterday, when hearing of the Mukden meetings, I was greatly troubled. Last night I could not sleep, thinking of my sins. I cannot bear the burden any longer.” He then fell on his knees in an agony of weeping, and poured out his confession in prayer, beseeching us also to pray for him.

Immediately the whole meeting broke down, and for a considerable time every one continued to pray aloud. Afterwards, one after another rose and besought prayer. For three hours this went on. Once in a while Dr. Liu or I would repeat a text, or point a distracted soul to the Saviour, or sing a verse of a simple hymn. But there was no formal address, only prayer. One dare not write what those broken and contrite hearts poured out before the Lord. It were sacrilege so to do. The sense of guilt was sometimes overpowering. For the first time in their lives they seemed to feel that they were face to face with a holy God, and, however painful the process, they must make full confession of their sins. What seemed to trouble many was the memory of what they did in the Boxer riots. How many times did we hear this memory recalled, and see men and women weeping bitter tears as ‘they confessed how they had at that time denied Christ! “Not only did I worship the idols myself,” sobbed one poor fellow “but I led my old mother to the temple and made her do the same, and she is dead!” And he refused to be comforted. It was the same at the evening meeting.

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,” and on Friday

the tone changed. The spirit of praise, as well as prayer, had taken possession of them. Everybody wanted to pray. Not the old prayers, the well-known, oft-repeated formula they had been babbling for many years. New petitions offered with a new reverence, a new solemnity, a new humility, and a new assurance of faith, as children to a father, having had their “hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience.” In the matter of praying, as in much else, “old things are passed away all things are become new.”

On the afternoon of that Friday I left Dr. Liu to continue the meetings at Tuerto, and proceeded to Panchiapu, whither my second companion had gone the day before, to prepare the way. It was arranged that I should rejoin the doctor at the third village on the following night. Some sixty people gathered in the evening at Panchiapu. I told them our story. They were interested — nothing more. The following morning another large meeting was convened. I proposed a short time of prayer. Several took part, quite in the old orthodox style. They had not understood. One felt sorry, and wondered if the foreigner’s hands were marring the work. Before leaving I strongly urged them, as many as were able, to go to Tuerto for the thanksgiving service on Sunday. Many consented.

I reached Szefangtai — eight miles further — towards evening. A meeting had been held in the morning by Dr. Liu. A number of the folk had been to Tuerto, and had been blessed. The house was packed when I arrived. We lit our candles as it grew dark, and the meeting began. What a meeting that was! It needed no conducting, or very little. Occasionally it seemed well to sing a verse of a hymn, or repeat a Divine promise that was all. Yet there was no excitement, nothing calling for repression. There was plenty of weeping. The house was full of men and women with broken and contrite hearts, and the floor was simply watered with their tears. One had heard of such meetings. Our fathers had told us of their having been eye-witnesses to something similar in their day, in Scotland — long ago, but we had never seen it in this fashion. It was truly GREAT, writ large. The house where we were gathered was a humble enough one, mud-walled, mud-floored, and smoke-begrimed; but it was for the moment transfigured, and became the House of God and the very Gate of Heaven.

“Now I saw in my dream that by this time the pilgrims were entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant. Here they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth night and day. Here they were within sight of the city they were going to, also here met them some of the inhabitants thereof, for in this land the shining ones commonly walked, because it was on the borders of’ heaven.” One felt good to be there. We could have remained on and on, and we did remain on until our candles burned out in their sockets. And long afterwards men stood round an oil-cruse, getting their thank-offerings written out. It was a poor village. The people were all poor. And yet, next morning, we found the thank-offering amounted to £6 sterling. If there had been a night like that night in some of our city congregations at home, what a thank-offering it would have been!

Sabbath morning saw us back at Tuerto for the thanksgiving service. I had told Dr. Liu about the Panchiapu luke-warmness, and he was much distressed. There was a great gathering, and the Panchiapu men were there in force, and their womenfolk too, although it was ten miles away. After praise and prayer, Dr. Liu said he had been grieved to hear that there had been no blessing at Panchiapu. It was very distressing for the brethren there, who were greatly to be pitied if they were passed over. So he said and then proposed that first of all we should have a time of earnest prayer on behalf of Panchiapu. And with one consent the whole congregation besieged the Throne of Grace on its behalf. That was indeed a great chorus A hundred people or more were earnestly praying for Panchiapu. Panchiapu was the one sound that was unmistakable. When this united prayer ceased the voice of the leading deacon of that unhappy place began to pray. He had not gone far before he seemed to realise that the old stereotyped formula was a dead letter now, so he just let himself go. “O Lord,” he said, “ don’t leave out Panchiapu.” And then he added, apologetically, “ There’s nothing really wrong with Panchiapu, only we are just deadly cold.” The thanksgiving service was the crowning meeting of the series in that village, and at its close the Panchiapu deacon and members came forward and implored us to go back to them. They would take no denial. They had seen the blessing others had got, and they must have it too. So Dr. Liu went back with them and held a three days’ mission. They got what they sought, and they said at the close of the meetings, “We must never get into this deadly cold state again.” Then and there they raised half the salary of an evangelist, got friends to help them with the other half, and sent an urgent letter to the Mukden session asking an evangelist to be sent at once to teach and preach among them. The session appointed a man, and ever since the congregation of Panchiapu has been ministered to by its own evangelist.

When Dr. Liu went to Panchiapu, I travelled eight miles in the opposite direction to Tutaitze, to meet two other deputies who had been conducting a series of meetings at Changtan. I met them on the Monday morning. They had the bearing of men who had been at the wars and had returned victorious. It was the joy of the Seventy over again. “Lord, even the devils are subject unto us through Thy Name!” They told me that on the evening of the third day of the mission, the whole congregation began to cry aloud for mercy. The village magnates came to find out if any one had died suddenly! They could not understand such sorrow on any other ground. Men had voluntarily confessed to crimes that not even torture could have made them reveal. They had a book with them in which the names of those who had confessed were entered, and the nature of the confession. It was a terrible list. Some of the men were in the room when it was submitted to me. I said to the leading elder “If the Lord has blotted out these terrible things from the Book of His rememberance why should we keep a record of them. Better burn the whole handwriting.” He looked at me for a moment reproachfully. He had meant to take it back to Mukden as a spoil of war. It was only for a moment. The next, the leaves were torn out and the record committed to the flames. And the men whose names were there fell down on their knees and wept.

After a three days’ mission at Tutaitze, where a similar awakening took place, we arranged a thanksgiving service. Representatives from six stations came together to render praise to Almighty God for His gracious blessing. There was a gathering of over two hundred Christians. The short reports we heard from the various stations all told the same tale of blessing. Not one of them had been passed by. And after our return to Mukden we met the deputies from all the other places, and the stories they told were simply echoes of what we heard that day. The blessing which came to us in Mukden had fallen on all the out-stations, marked by the same awakening of the Christians, the same profound conviction of sin. Everywhere they had looked on Him whom they had pierced, and mourned, as one mourneth for his only son, as one that is in bitterness for his firstborn.

Everywhere had been the same spirit of contrition, confession, restitution, thanksgiving; the same remarkable spirit of prayer had been evidenced all along the line. The Boxers, the war, the persecution, famine, peril, sword — all were forgotten now. The years that the palmerworm, the locust, and the caterpillar had eaten were restored. And after such things it had been, as promised “I will pour out My Spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions. And also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out My Spirit.”

At the close of the thanksgiving meeting short parting words of counsel were given. My companion, Dr. Liu, who is quite a young fellow, and had undergone a deep spiritual experience during the previous month, has developed a wonderful gift as a leader in this movement. He gave the last address, and at its close he asked all those present who had received blessing during the meetings to rise. The whole congregation rose as one man. While they stood he continued “All those who are resolved henceforth to follow the Lord fully hold up the right hand.” And every hand went up. Standing thus, with uplifted hands, we sang our consecration hymn

My body, soul and spirit,
Saviour, I give to Thee.”

And how they sang! It was a great, solemn, gladdening sight! Nothing but a psalm seems fitting here

“When Zion’s bondage God turned back,
As men that dreamed were we,
Then filled with laughter was our mouth,
Our tongues with melody.

They ‘mong the heathen said, the Lord
Great things for them hath wrought.
The Lord hath done great things for us,
Whence joy to us is brought.”

This joy I am sure will be shared by many of the faithful in the home Church, who have, for many years, been praying for this which we have seen and heard in Manchuria.