Missionary Young People by MRS. C. S. COON

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Apr 23, 1914

Missionary Young People

By MRS. C. S. COON

MRS. C. S. COON

DEAR parents, did you ever stop and ask yourselves whether or not you could give one of your children to mission work in a foreign field? Young men and women, did you ever question your own hearts as to your willingness to answer the call of God for foreign service?

This question was brought to my mind very forcibly about two years ago. One day our mail brought a letter saying, "If one of your boys can pass a certain examination, he may be sent to the Foreign Mission Seminary to prepare for work in a foreign field." I felt quite sure that, with the limited advantages he had enjoyed in the way of education, he could not successfully pass the examination, and so dismissed the matter from my mind. But in the night I awoke asking myself, "If he should pass the test, could I, would I, let him go?"

I then imagined I saw him at the Seminary. It was easy to picture him there, for his father and I had sat in those very seats at young people's meeting during the preceding General Conference. I saw him in his classes day after day, week after week, and month after month, storing his mind with useful knowledge for his field of labor. I saw him as he finished his course, said the last good-by to classmates and teachers, and took the train for the port where a mighty ocean steamer was decked, making necessary preparation for a long voyage.

I saw our son gazing for the first time at the magnificent boat on which he was to take passage, with the Stars and Stripes floating from her mast. It seemed that his father and I were by his side as, with grip in hand, he went on board. We followed him from the office to his stateroom, and then to the deck. Then came the cry, "All ashore that are going ashore," and we said good-by. From the shore we saw him seated on the deck as the starting signal was given, the anchor weighed, ropes and gangplank drawn in, and all connection with the land severed.

As the majestic ship steamed out into the mighty deep, we could for a time distinguish our boy among the many who were waving farewell to friends on the shore, but finally the liner with its living freight appeared as only a speck against the horizon, and then was lost to view.

My imagination took me to the end of the voyage, and I saw our boy land on a foreign shore, where all was strange and new.

Thoughts came to my mind of the treatment some of the early missionaries received. Many of them were persecuted, driven from place to place, mobbed, killed, and some even eaten by those they were trying to help. Then came the thought of what our own missionaries are enduring, and of what might be the lot of our beloved boy. Again I asked myself the question, "Could I, would I, let him go?"

Then the scene changed and I beheld Jesus, the greatest missionary the world has ever seen. I saw him as it were in the bosom of his Father, surrounded by all the glory of heaven, with the vast retinue of holy angels ever delighting to do him homage; saw him as he offered himself a sacrifice for guilty man, that a lost world might be redeemed; saw him as he left the courts above and came to earth to make his soul an offering for sin. I traced the road from the manger to Calvary, and saw the Saviour hanging upon the cross, and imagined that I heard the roar of the earthquake that marked the end, as he cried, "It is finished." The Testimonies say that it was a struggle for the King of the universe to give his Son as a sacrifice, and yet "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

When we think of everlasting life, a life that measures with the life of God, where there will be no sorrow, pain, or death, but where all will be joy and peace and happiness, are we not thankful for the love of God, which led him to make a sacrifice for us? In view of this, should we withhold even the dearest of our own from his service? Shall we not rather say, "Go, and tell the heathen who sit in darkness of the wonderful love of Jesus?" that they, too, may be brought to a saving knowledge of his grace, and with us enter into the city of God, tread the streets of gold, bow in adoration before the Saviour of mankind, and praise his name through all eternity.