p. 7 | Some Missionary Deliverances by W. A. S.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 14, 1914

Some Missionary Deliverances

By W. A. S.

OF the experiences awaiting his messengers at the hands of wicked men Jesus said: "They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service." John 16:2. And history records the fulfillment. The blood of the martyrs was the seed of the church in early centuries and in the dark days of papal rule.

In the missionary advance also, in modern times, many a life has been laid down at the hands of violent and fanatical men. Always, it seems, God has overruled this violence to his glory, and the testimony sealed with death has opened the way for the progress of the gospel among the persecutors.

But a different word was spoken by Jesus as to perils by violence from animal enemies in the wilds. He declared that his messengers were given power over these things,—to tread on serpents and scorpions, etc.,—"and nothing shall by any means hurt you." Luke 10:19. This was a promise to the seventy, sent

out before the crucifixion; but the promise of special deliverance from perils of this nature was also a part of the great commission for the carrying of the gospel to all the world. Mark 16:18.

It would not be legitimate to interpret this as meaning that under no circumstances was a missionary of the cross ever to suffer death from attacks of beast or reptile in the wilds. But it does suggest a special providential protection amid such perils. And it is a plain fact of missionary history that truly the hand of God has been over the missionary frontier force exposed to dangers in the jungle and the wilderness.

Miss Belle M. Brain has been a close student of missions. She says:—

So far as the writer has been able to discover, in an investigation covering more than ten years [she means that her own search of the record has continued for ten years], there is not on record a single case of a missionary attacked by snakes or animals in which God did not interpose to save his servant from death. The promises in Luke 10:19 and Mark 16:18 did not, apparently, cease with apostolic times.

Within a few weeks newspaper dispatches have reported the death of a missionary in Central Africa as the result of injuries received some time before in an attack by a lion. But so far as we are able to find the record, this is the only instance reported, although wild beasts in Africa slay thousands every year, and the missionaries have ever been pioneers in piercing the wilds.

Thousands of missionaries are at work in India, where from fifteen to twenty thousand people, more or less, die of the bite of poisonous snakes every year. Yet no missionary has ever perished of the bite of a serpent there, so far as recorded.

"From all parts of the mission field," says Miss Brain, "come stories of deliverances so great that they would seem to be miracles." We quote two illustrations given by this writer:—

Mrs. Scudder in the Tigers' Lair

While on a long journey across India, Dr. John Scudder, the first medical missionary from America, contracted jungle fever, and it was thought he could not live. When word reached Mrs. Scudder, she borrowed a tent, laid in a stock of provisions, hired the necessary bearers, and started to him at once, taking her little son with her.

The way led through a dense jungle infested by wild beasts. But all went well until night came on, when the bearers became so terrified at the growling of the tigers that they suddenly fled.

With no human arm to protect her, the defenseless woman spent the long hours of that lonely night in prayer. Again and again she heard the tread of wild elephants, and the low, menacing growls of tigers not far away. "All night long," says her brother, "they seemed to be circling around the spot where she knelt, ready to spring upon her and her child. But God held them back."

In the morning the bearers returned and the journey was resumed. At its close, Mrs. Scudder found the crisis past and her husband convalescent.

Delivered From Lions and Rhinoceroses

During his first years in Africa, Mr. Willis R. Hotchkiss, of the Friends' Africa Industrial Mission, had many dangerous encounters with lions, rhinoceroses, and snakes.

One morning, while crossing a ravine with a small party of natives, five lions were discovered on a rocky platform jutting out from the hillside about two hundred and fifty yards away. A clump of trees at the crest of the ridge offered protection, but the ascent must be made in full view of the lions.

As the men started up, the lions began to pace to and fro, and give vent to low, menacing growls that meant danger. Escape seemed impossible; nevertheless, keeping their eyes on the lions, the men made for the trees as fast as they dared. Presently, to their great relief, the lioness trotted off, taking her full-grown cubs with her. As she was the dangerous factor in the situation, Mr. Hotchkiss now dared to turn for an instant to see how near they were to the trees. To his dismay he found two huge rhinoceroses blocking the way. To add to the peril, an instant later the lioness reappeared, and, with blood-curdling roar, came bounding down the hillside toward them.

The first impulse was to run; the second, a wiser one, to fire. But the lioness proved an uncertain target, and the men did not aim very well. One bullet took effect, slightly wounding her, but soon the ammunition gave out. In this extremity Mr. Hotchkiss turned to God.

"With empty rifle in one hand and hunting knife in the other," he says, "I lifted up that mightiest of all weapons, prayer. Not a nicely formulated prayer,—there was not time for that,—but just the wordless expression of a desperate need. But it was enough. The infuriated beast had got within seventy yards, when, without apparent cause—but God—she suddenly turned at right angles and dashed away. The day of miracles past?—Never!"

When it was all over, they turned to look for the rhinoceroses. But they, too, had disappeared, having been frightened, doubtless, by either the charging lioness or the noise of the rifles.

To these we may add a narrative of experience in which one of our colporteurs not long ago recognized the delivering hand of Providence. One of our bookmen in the South African colonies was out taking orders from house to house.

In one community he was told by the people to beware of a fierce dog kept at a certain house toward which he was working. It was a big black dog, particularly vicious toward strangers, they said; and he was told he would better not go inside the gate unless the people of the house were about to restrain the dog.

The worker came to the place described. No one appeared to be about, and he could see no signs of the dog. He did not want to pass by the house, as the commission of the gospel colporteur is to make sure of visiting every family on the route with the message-filled books. With a prayer to God to keep him, he opened the gate and went into the yard.

He had closed the gate behind him and taken but a step, when a dog—unmistakably the big black beast described—came bounding out and rushed viciously at him. There was no time for escape by the gate. But the colporteur had asked God to care for him, and in his heart was the prayer for protection.

The dog reared up to spring upon him—and fell over dead. Truly it was a deliverance; but quick with the thought of deliverance came the thought, "What am I to do? These people will think I killed the dog." But the owner of the house, it proved, had opened the door just in time to see the dog fall back dead, and the worker escaped all blame. He took the gentleman's order for the book, and went on his way rejoicing at the deliverance, and feeling that God would surely bless the placing of the literature in that home.

A yet later incident comes to us just now from a colporteur in Europe. In the German workers' paper, Zions-Wächter, appeared the following report:—

Before one house appeared a small sign with the warning: "Beware! a savage dog." Scarcely was I up the steps of the veranda when out from a corner sprang the savage beast. Instantly I sent up a murmured prayer, "Lord, protect me!" One pull upon the bell at the door, and there came a servant, whose first question was, "How did you get in? Where is the dog?" Then he asked me about my business. With some difficulty I succeeded in selling him a small book. Then the servant must needs drive away the dog, and under his guiding protection I was let out of the gate, and left the house. Truly the Lord that once held the jaws of the lions opens the doors before us, and he it was who held back the savage dog in order that the way might be prepared for the entrance of the truth.

To those who believe in a Heavenly Father who notes the sparrow's fall and who watches over even minor details in the lives of his children, these experiences will not be counted commonplaces. There is a God in heaven who cares. Many an unbeliever, or even thoughtless professor, gives credit for a peril narrowly escaped to good luck or favoring conditions, when he should rather thank God for his loving mercy.