15 - Chapter 15
Chapter 15 - The Farewells by Stanley P. Smith
------------------------------
On Monday morning Mr. Hsi led the Communion service, and in the late afternoon we started for K’üh-wu, Mr. Hsi and others accompanying us about three miles. The next day we got to K’üh-wu, and that same day Mr. Taylor, with his son, and Mr. Beauchamp, started for the West, Mr. Studd waiting till the morrow. Their first stage was by moonlight; we accompanied them out some way. A few last words of helpful counsel, a few last words of mutual love, a few last words in solemn stillness, as with hands locked in his, we each received his parting blessing; and the visit to Shan-si—so long expected, so long deferred, but now so blessed in its outcome, so treasured in our hearts—was over.
What wonder if the thought stole across our minds as we retraced our steps: “A little while and he may come again!” What wonder if we were led up to think of that more certain return of his Master, or found comfort in the reassuring words of Jesus, “It is expedient for you that I go away!” Yes! It is “expedient.” The partings, the separations, the crosses, the disappointments of this world, are all expedient. They are his appointments, therefore they are expedient. They are the inlets to deeper and greater blessings; they remove from under us the props of the creature, that we may learn to find our heart-rest in leaning on the Creator; they bid us “seek another country, that is an heavenly;” thy bid us look not at the western hills, behind which, as it were, at Calvary His sun did set in darkness, but gaze with eager eye on eastern skies, where even now the night is yielding, and the first gray streaks of early morn are telling out our glorious Lord’s return; they lead us on in a natural train of thought to these personal expression of His love: “If I ‘go away’ I come again and will receive you unto Myself, that where I am, there ye may be also.” A LAST WORD. Our Lord is surely coming; but “till He come” let us of English tongue go forth!—go forth at His command into the world’s great harvest field.
Thrice, thrice are we the debtors of the heathen world.
Debtors—for we possess what they have not.
Debtors—for we have kept back for centuries what should have been given them with generous hand.
Debtors—for instead of a loaf we have given a stone, instead of a fish a serpent! This weary world cries out for rest—rest which, though it knows not, can alone be found upon the bosom of God. Its cry is well-nigh unheeded by the majority in Christian lands. This wretched world exclaims for peace—peace which, though it knows not, can only be found through the blood of Christ.
Lo! We poison them with spirit; we drug them with opium.
Christians! Let us arise and shake off from us the dust of inactivity. Let us to Calvary’s hill. Behold He dies! Shall we pass by with heart not wholly won, with life not fully yielded, a grace so special and a love so true?
No! It must not—cannot be! His love, His dying love, shall constrain us; it shall put devotion into our lives; shall stamp upon our hearts the “All for Jesus” cry; it shall awake us trumpet-tongued from the grave of sloth, to the risen life of gladsome service.
Christians! Hark we to His word: “All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth.”
Christians! Look we upon the open field! Africa, South America, India, China, the ocean isles which “God so loved;” for which Christ died. And then—the marching orders—His last command that knows no compromise: “Go ye! And make disciples of all nations.” Who will miss the privilege of obedience?