Chapter 29: Stirring Times

ROME is always the same, wherever she has power, wherever she finds dupes, wherever ignorance prevails.
For over a year Dona Rosa had been a thorn in the side of the Vigario of Limoeiro, a little city in the north of Brazil, about sixty miles from the railroad. Dona Rosa is a very quiet, humble-minded woman, is the local schoolmistress, and a sincere believer; and all the efforts of the priest to drive her out of the place, or to neutralize her testimony, have been unavailing. Nevertheless he had succeeded in taking away nearly all her pupils, by uttering his curses on all such families as dared to send their children to the school of this terrible heretic. He had also compelled the people to petition the Government against her with false accusations, to rob her of her honorable employment.
This priest had successfully resisted every effort to preach the Gospel in his city; and when nearly a year ago a definite attempt to do so was made by Mr. John Mein, an English missionary, with a native helper, the effort had failed; and they were driven out of the town with sticks and stones, being at no small peril of their lives.
In December, 1921, this same missionary and myself made a fresh attempt to open this fast-closed door. From all accounts we expected to have a rather warm reception, for the rumor was that we should be shot at sight by some of the unprincipled ruffians that the Driest always has at his command.
Twenty miles from the railway terminus we reached the fine town of Palmeira, where the principal streets were canvassed, and a few Bibles and Testaments sold, one being purchased by a prisoner in the town jail, awaiting his trial for murder.
Pushing on next morning, we had forty miles to ride to reach the main objective of our journey; and we decided that under the circumstances it would be best to enter the town well after dark, without the knowledge of the priest or the local authorities. This precaution, however, proved but a worldly-wise idea, and not the Lord’s plan for us; for though we succeeded in entering the city unperceived, yet on our knocking at the door of the house of the schoolmistress, the noise of our arrival at that late hour threw Dona Rosa and her daughters into a state of wild alarm, they deeming it but another of the many forms of persecution and provocation that they had continually suffered at the hands of the cruel and cowardly priest. It was only by raising our voices and shouting our names and occupation through the keyhole that eventually the door was timidly opened, only to be slammed again in our faces; for they had never seen me before, and did not discern my companion in the darkness. By the time we had succeeded in overcoming their fears, and were admitted by the pale and trembling women, all the town knew of our arrival, including the priest, whose house was just across the road; and a big stone hurled through a half-open back door was the first intimation of their goodwill.
Early next morning we tried our best to rent a house or a room for Gospel meetings, but everybody looked askance at us, and the priest had evidently succeeded in checkmating all our efforts in that direction.
Now it happened that we had noticed a big pile of logs of wood lying on an elevated point in the center of the city; so without previous intimation of our intentions beyond telling the residents in the immediate neighborhood of the same, we mounted this improvised pulpit and began to sing. A small crowd soon gathered, and our addresses were listened to with every mark of respect. After this several visits were made, little informal meetings held in the houses of one or another, Gospels distributed, and every effort made to overcome the prejudice of the people, and to show that we were but men like themselves, and not the unnatural monsters that the priest had proclaimed us to be.
The following day at the same hour the second meeting was held, with a still larger attendance; and the priest, who could see the whole proceeding from his house, was so nonplussed and disgusted that he shut himself out of sight. Visits were again made as on the previous day, and a change in the attitude of the inhabitants in our favor was very evident, the priest having to content himself with persuading a few small boys to pelt us with gravel as we passed his house at dusk.
The next day was Sunday, and now the priest had his opportunity. The weekly fair was in full swing, and hundreds of ignorant countrymen with corn, farinha, yams, fowls and other produce for sale had set up their little stalls in the big square. Of course the church was open all day, and the priest was fully occupied with his ecclesiastical wares, at the same time warning one and all against the dangerous heretics now in the town. The crowds grew apace. Groups here and there discussed the situation, and looked loweringly at us whenever we appeared at a door or window of the teacher’s house.
One wild-looking old man somewhat alarmed me at first by frequently appearing at the door leading some rather scared-looking countryman by the arm, and pointing me out with the words, “That’s him! That’s him!” It was rather embarrassing, but my fears were allayed when a little later he slipped into the house, and in a nervous, low voice said, “I have five sons here with me — there’s one of them. I sympathize with the senhores, and if you need our help we are all at your orders.” Afterward, when things were looking more serious, the same old man assured me that if we wanted a hundred men to defend us he could stand for that too! I smiled and told him that while we appreciated his goodwill there would be no need for such intervention.
News soon reached us that — though an unusual date — a procession was to be held, and a mast to be raised in honor of the local saint, whom we were supposed to have affronted. About midday a crude drum and fife band appeared parading up and down the town, while the priest handed out a number of grotesque masks to a noisy band of men and boys, a masked horseman directing the operations.
An open-air service seemed impossible, but after waiting upon the Lord we felt encouraged, and decided to hold a meeting at the same place, but at a much earlier hour, to upset the priest’s programme, so far as we were concerned. Two hours earlier than previously, instead of making our way through the crowd, we quietly reached our log pulpit by a back street, and started the meeting at once, taking the whole town by surprise. Before the priest could organize some counter-blast or other, I had finished my address to a larger congregation than ever; and we were singing another hymn ere Mr. Mein should continue with what was to be the concluding sermon of the campaign.
“Stand firm! Here they come!” said he; and glancing down the square I saw a big rabble of men and boys with the band and maskers bearing in our direction. On they came, shouting and yelling, headed by the mounted masker, who tried to make a diversion with his horse, but it refused to answer to whip or spur. In a few moments all was over. It was as though God had covered us with His hand; for the mob swept by at arm’s length with scarcely a glance in our direction and not one word of insult.
Then we continued our meeting, which had grown to about eighty people. Mr. Mein had barely warmed to his subject when back returned the crowd, carrying the mast of the insulted saint — a pandemonium of drums and fifes, and explosive rockets — and the roaring rabble.
This is just the type of folk over whom the priest has most influence.
Yet a second time, as we turned and faced them, they swept harmlessly by, though as the tail of the procession passed the man who fired the explosive rockets swung a very evil face towards us, and shot several of them point blank at us, just missing his aim.
Again we continued our meeting; and the Spirit of God came down upon my companion and his growing congregation. He spoke with power; and our pulpit proving too unstable for his energy he leaped into the middle of the road and spoke for quite another half an hour, with great effect.
We have reason to believe that a deep and lasting impression was made upon the whole city, and that some have already accepted the truth as a result of these meetings. To a very great extent the priest has lost his influence and power for evil, and Limoeiro is now an open door to the Gospel messenger.
Yes, semper eadem — Rome is always the same! But, thank God! the Gospel of Jesus Christ is changing too; and wherever it is preached it proves the same power of God to draw sinners to their only Saviour.
By the foregoing pages it will be noticed that open-air meetings furnish a great and effective means for reaching all sorts and conditions of men otherwise hard to touch. This applies especially to pioneer and to itinerating work in the interior. Something of the kind is also attempted in the big cities of Brazil. In the latter the forces in opposition are generally well organized for breaking up such meetings, and great patience and courage are required for this work.
While evangelizing the seaport of Santos about the year 1900, when there were no evangelical churches established there, a native worker and I started weekly open-air meetings in all parts of the city. Our reception was varied. Once we were pelted with rotten tomatoes, one extra good shot putting my companion out of the combat pro tem. Another time a hose was turned on us; but we held our own, assuring the crowds that a shower-bath was never known to kill anybody, but that sin certainly would do so.
In the big Maua Square we had a double congregation, the sympathizers — and they were in the majority — in our front, and the Bible critics behind. The latter pelted us with potatoes and other odds and ends, and once a dead fox (gambá) brushed by my face. I terminated the meeting by telling our friends that we had done our best to show then something well-worth having, and to point out a sure way of salvation, which we had already proved for ourselves. All must see the need of some such way of escape — its necessity was too evident; “but the folk behind,” said I, “seem to know of some more excellent way to meet this need.”
Then stepping down from the high curbstone on which we stood, I turned round to our persecutors and said, “You do not agree with what we have preached, so must know something better. Kindly take this place and we will give you an attentive hearing.” Ashamed and confused before the gaze of the big crowd now assembled, their silence and discomfiture gave point and emphasis to our meeting.
On another occasion we took our stand on a pile of stones on the dock front. The crowd was small and not unfriendly, until several dock officials in uniform joined the assembly. These men were evidently fanatical Romanists, and they did their best to harm us by ceaseless interruptions, mocking our words. At once the crowd increased in proportions. Every dock loafer was there, and was absolutely at the service of our tormentors, whom it was in his interest to please.
My companion was speaking, but the interruptions and noise became so great as to render him inaudible; so, having a stronger voice, I took up the word myself.
The noise now became deafening, and it was soon evident that personal violence was intended. We were somewhat protected by our elevation on that stone pile, but a compact, howling crowd shut us in on all sides.
All at once I noticed that some of the wildest of the men were picking up stones. Instantly the Lord showed me a way of escape. Snatching a bundle of small tracts out of my pocket, I gave my companion half. Shouting a word of instruction in his ear, I dived down one side of the pile, and, waving my tracts in the air, began to circulate them as rapidly as I could.
The first of these were at once torn in pieces and tossed into the air. This only aroused the curiosity of the newcomers in the rear, and the noise ceased; while a hundred hands were stretched out to receive a tract. Our enemies were nonplussed; for, freely jostled and elbowed at first, my occupation gave me an excuse for pressing through the crowd; and in a few minutes I found myself minus all my tracts, and on the safe side of things. My companion had bored his way through the opposite side by the same means, and he joined me at once. Then bowing to the now silent crowd we invited them to our mission hall that night, where we told them they could get a quiet hearing of our message. Then we turned our back: on the crowd and walked away. Not a stone was thrown not a shout nor laugh followed us.