p. 11 | J. T. BOETTCHER by J. T. BOETTCHER

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 8, 1915

J. T. BOETTCHER

By J. T. BOETTCHER

Russia

J. T. BOETTCHER

During the year 1914 we were able to add to our churches through baptism 954 members. This is fairly good, taking everything into consideration. Two of our fields are directly in the war zone, and some of the workers and members have had to flee to other parts of the country. We have to help not only the workers and their families, but also the poor people who have lost all their belongings. There are many of our people who would be glad to earn their bread if they could get work. These have to be cared for. We long for the trouble to stop.

The work in the cities can be carried on fairly well, but the people in country places are left largely to themselves. One of our aged ministers was badly injured by a mob. Another was threatened by a mob of ten men; they wanted to bind him and carry him off, but the police delivered him out of their hands. We have not many pleasant things to report, and yet we are not discouraged, because we know our Father knows best.

I conducted meetings in Riga during the winter. We were not molested in the least. During 1914 we baptized just one hundred persons in Riga. This present quarter (the first of 1915) we have on the list twenty-five or thirty candidates. Before we baptize any one, he

goes through a special course of instruction. In this instruction all points of the truth are taken up in detail, and the candidate is questioned as to whether he understands them or not. God blesses this kind of work. It does my heart good to see dear souls take hold on a living Christ by the hand of faith.

I have just learned that a soldier has found Christ and the truth through a soldier who has fallen on the battle field. They studied the Sabbath school lessons together, and this man became interested in the truth and is now a believer. He was badly wounded, and is now in a hospital in Moscow.

I wish I were a poet, so I could translate a little poem for you which a young brother wrote from his prison in Petrograd. The last stanza runs like this:— “\nAll the little which I suffer Is not worth to be recalled, For the joys which God doth offer Here as witness to be called. Naught is fairer and more glorious Than of self made wholly free. Only live and trust in Jesus, Serve him, and by faith I see.”

To me it is full of expression, knowing all the circumstances of the brother. He believes that God will work good out of it all. May God keep him and spare his health.

We thank you all for the interest you take in us here. We appreciate being so kindly remembered.