Notes From India by G. B. Thompson

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Tacoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 11, 1907

Notes From India

By G. B. Thompson

G. B. THOMPSON

JANUARY 28, in company with Elder W. W. Miller and Brother and Sister Burgess, I left Calcutta for Gopalgunj, in eastern Bengal. The first hundred miles of the trip was made by rail. Then we changed to a small steamer, which took us about forty miles up one of the large rivers that form the delta of the sacred Ganges. Here we made a change into a rowboat, and after a few hours' rowing against wind and tide, we reached our destination, and were very hospitably received at the home of our Indian worker, Babu A. C. Mookerjee.

This whole country is devoted to the raising of rice, and in the rainy season is completely inundated, so that traveling is done largely by means of boats. So far as agricultural implements are concerned, I was unable to discern that any improvement had been made over those which must have been used in the days of Abraham. The country swarms with Bengali-speaking people, all of whom live in villages. We passed many of these villages on the way, filled with people, intelligent looking, but ruined and benighted by sin and superstition. Surely this is a field for missionary work. It is beautiful here, but in the hot, rainy season, it is inclined to be malarial.

In the providence of God, the last message has gained a foothold in this out-of-the-way place. Elder Miller, Brother Mookerjee, and others have labored here, and I am told that at the present time there are about twenty-four adult Sabbath-keepers. After they have been more fully instructed, no doubt a church, composed entirely of Bengali-speaking people, can be organized. Those who embrace the truth are being tested. The land upon which they raise their “paddy” (rice) is controlled, to some extent, by one of the missionary societies working here for a number of years, and this society exacted an agreement from them that if they changed their faith, they must leave their land. Therefore, as soon as they receive the message and begin keeping the Sabbath, they are notified to leave. This means the giving up of all they have. It is shown, however, that this message is just as precious to an inhabitant of Bengal as to those of more favored, civilized lands; for some of them are keeping the Sabbath, regardless of all the consequences involved.

My sympathies were deeply touched

for this people. They seemed so kind, and so appreciative of our visit among them! How much I would have enjoyed speaking to them in their own language! My visit here convinces me that in order to carry the message to India, we must have laborers among all these tongues, familiarizing themselves with the language of the people. The people are strange; their habits and customs are strange, and we can not understand them as we ought until we can speak with them in their own language. There are about forty-seven million Bengali-speaking people in India. This is more than one half the population of the United States. God loves the humblest and most benighted coolie among this people as much as the more enlightened European. If we believe the Lord is coming in this generation, why should we have hundreds of laborers at home and only a very few here?

The night we were at Gopalgunj, there was an almost total eclipse of the moon. The Hindus of the village, who believed, I was told, that some monster was swallowing this orb of the night, made a great racket with tom-toms and various instruments of music, to frighten away this monster.

Near here is where Sadhan Chandra Sircar lives—the aged brother who, in answer to prayer, was healed of the leprosy over thirty years ago. From a child he had been a victim of that awful disease. For many years—nearly a half century—he had prayed to all the Hindu gods for deliverance from it, but no relief came. One day a godly missionary came to his home in a boat, told him about the true God, and left him a copy of the Gospel of Matthew. He read it, and learned that Jesus of Nazareth healed the leprosy. He began to pray to him, and for three days he and this faithful missionary sought the Lord in his behalf. God heard their cries, and he was healed. For thirty years he has stood before the world a living testimony of the power of Jesus to cleanse the leper. This brother was present at our recent conference in Calcutta, and bore his testimony. Parts of his hands and feet have been eaten away, as will be seen by the picture of him which accompanies this article, but there is no sign of leprosy.

About a year ago he—now eighty years of age—received our Bengali tract, entitled “Christ and the Sabbath.” Being in charge of a mission, he studied the tract to refute it. But he learned that the same Jesus who healed him of the leprosy kept the seventh-day Sabbath, and he began keeping it also. This enraged the mission people, and they took his home from him, and sold his pony. But he remains true to the Sabbath of the Lord. It seems strange that persecution should come from professed Christians, rather than from benighted Hindus.

In all the villages among the jungles of India there are faithful souls like this, who are seeking for light. It is real missionary work to leave our pleasant homes and go and live among these people, study their language, and teach them the truth, but our reward in heaven will be very great. Our schools, academies, and colleges must train young men and women for this work. Those who consecrate all to him, God will qualify for it by the power of his Holy Spirit.