Go and Tell

Tell me the story of Jesus, write on my heart every word. Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard. Tell how the angels in chorus sang as they welcomed his birth.

Glory to God in the highest, peace and good tidings to earth. Tell me the story of Jesus, write on my heart every word. Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard.

I am missionary Richard Yerby, ever so blessed and privileged to now be journeying through various mountain areas of Japan, going and telling Japanese Buddhists of the only true and eternal blessedness, and that it is found in the Lord Jesus Christ and in him alone. My title for this ceremony is Go and Tell. I returned to Japan in May 1986 after having been away about 17 months on furlough in the U.S., being desirous for some relief from constant dire poverty and also needing money to continue printing my first two books that I had recently written and was given away free.

So I started a small business here in Japan, selling souvenir goods on the street in the nearby mountain resort town of Karuizawa, where I had studied the Japanese language. I did that selling part time and was diligent to get out the gospel as I worked that job. I put Christian literature into the bags with the things my customers bought.

I displayed short Bible verses and placards about salvation in Christ. And though at first I balked at doing so, I soon started preaching out there on that busy street while operating my little business, building and battling as we have in Nehemiah. There was such a great mass of eternal souls that I couldn't resist turning them into a congregation by preaching to them.

Their rudeness also helped fire me up and encouraged me to preach. Keep not silence. One place I sold was on the edge of the street in front of the entrance to Karuizawa Church, the pastor having given me permission to sell there.

The church is on this tourist town's main street, crowded with pedestrians, a street line with rather narrow, small store spaces that rent for big money. Therefore, many of the merchants were beastlike in their efforts to gain all the filthy lucre they could. There are no sidewalks on that crowded street.

If anyone parks a car in front of a store for just a couple of minutes, usually the merchant will come out mad and run them off. I watched them even tell their own customers not to park their bicycles in front of the store when they come in to shop. I have seen merchants tell people to move on when those people were simply standing in front of their store.

Most every store used every available inch of space for selling, wanting customers to hand over their money and then to quickly disappear out of their way. Don't dare sit on the front stoop for a minute to catch your breath. It amazed me at how strict and rude those merchants were on the Japanese tourists, and also how much the tourists respected the merchants' money-gaining efforts and fairly well complied with their greedy, selfish rules.

But they sure didn't show any such respect for God's church and its property. The entrance to the church is only about 21 feet wide at the front along the street, and it is appalling the way the tourists would mob that area. In hot weather, people would flock there for the shade under the two trees in the churchyard, and because merchants would not tolerate them standing in front of their stores, people would freely enter the church property, throw down garbage and such, till the church put up a lightweight metal accordion-like gate across the encroachment at the front.

I was there when the church installed that gate, and then I watched the mob just about completely destroy it in about two years. Though it was lightweight, many people would lean back against it. Children would play on it and play with it, pushing it back and forth and such.

Rental bicycles are a big business in Karuizawa as the Japanese tourists peddle them around town, and because the many merchants who receive the tourist money do not want the bicycles in front of their stores, the church enters through those bicycles like a magnet. People continually ram bicycles against the church gate as they park them there, destroying the gate. Though the pastor gave me permission to sell in front of the church entrance, out of respect to the other church people, I used a small cart for my wares, which was only 19 inches across, 19 inches wide, by 28 inches deep, and I placed it at the corner of the entrance to be out of the way of church people entering in the middle of the gate.

The pastor's family lived in the church. Also, the church operated a kindergarten, so church people came and went daily through that gate. Though merchants seldom tolerated even their own customers parking bicycles in front of their stores for just a short time, a few store personnel would ride a bicycle or a motorcycle to work and park that in front of the church all day long.

One guy, I think one guy only rode a motorcycle and put it there all day as they worked in their store all day, those bicycles being a bother to us. Tourists would line that entire 21-foot church property front from edge to edge with a tightly packed row of bicycles and sometimes start a second row on the street behind the first row. They would ram the bicycles against my tiny stand and pile bicycles up around it, preventing potential customers from reaching my little store, my little cart there.

And then the bike riders would walk away so glad that they had found a place to park their bicycles. Some of those people left their bicycles heaped on me and on the church for hours as they leisurely browsed through stores around there, leaving their money with merchants who wouldn't tolerate customers' bicycles in front of their stores. And some of those merchants, a few of them even had their own bicycles parked in front of the church all day.

I watched the people who entered and exited the church having to untangle a pile of bicycles and move them before they could get through that gate. I watched bicycles destroy that expensive new church gate as they were rammed against it and laid against it. And how my righteous indignation rose within me.

The pastor posted large signs on the gate, bicycle parking forbidden. But most people ignored those signs like they were blind people. Once a lady and teenage daughter arrived on two bicycles.

Mom parked right against that sign and told her daughter to do the same. The girl looked at the sign reluctantly and asked her mother, but is it okay? And that mom haughtily replied, sure. Because it is church, do any rude thing you desire was her devilish attitude.

As the people peddled up to leave their bicycles there, I would tell one after another not to do that till I grew most weary of it. You who think that all Japanese people are polite and well-mannered, well, you just haven't rubbed noses with them like I have. It was amazing to watch their sinful hypocrisy of respecting greedy, sinful merchants by not getting in the way in front of stores.

But with glee, they would completely obstruct the entire church entrance while destroying its gate and littering the church yard, acting as if they did no wrong. Though they loved to freely use and destroy the church property like that, a team of strong horses couldn't have pulled any one of them through that gate and into the church house to hear the Bible being preached. Therefore, I soon concluded that there was only one sensible thing for me to do, preach to them right there at the church gate where they loved to congregate.

So that is exactly what I started doing. Fasting alone in the desert, tell of the days that are past. How far our sins he was tempted, yet was triumphant at last.

Tell of the years of his labor, tell of the sorrow he bore. He was despised and afflicted, homeless, rejected, and poor. Tell me the story of Jesus, write on my heart every word.

Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard. When I first started selling in front of that church, I didn't preach while I was out there. I would kindly ask people not to put their bikes there, but to little avail.

Then I began putting a Christian track into each bicycle basket of the bicycles that were sitting there. One man just about got fighting mad upon returning and finding a track in the basket of his bicycle that had sat there blocking the entrance to the church. I soon concluded that the best thing I could do for that mob of hell-bound, rude, Christ-rejecting sinners gathered at the church gate would be to just preach, thus saith the Lord God to them right there.

So I soon started doing that. Neither was I quiet. My preaching greatly cut down on the number of bicycles rammed against the church gate and on the number of sinners ratcheting that gate back and forth for their entertainment and its destruction.

But it was like bailing water out of a boat full of holes. Each time I stopped preaching to attend to one of my customers or to get a drink of water or to eat lunch, like buzzards flocking to their roost, another mob flocked in. Because of the above-mentioned and various other interruptions, I only preached about five to 15 minutes at a time.

At first, it greatly taxed my courage each time I had to start up preaching anew, as a new flock of buzzards would be there who were unaware that I preached. And it was quite a shock to those buzzards each time I started up. But I soon got over my initial state of shyness and came to be somewhat entertained by their shock reactions.

In peak tourist season, lots of people stood in front of that tangle of bicycles, licking soft cream cones they had bought next door. And when my courage was at its peak, I would elbow my way right into their crowded midst. I could just about read their minds.

What does this foreign missionary with a Bible think he is doing, crowding us like this as we block the church gate? My fellow preachers, picture this, if you will. Sometimes with my elbows in their ribs or vice versa, I would haul off preaching. Talk about a close congregation.

Talk about some shock Japanese. And so often their poker faces could completely conceal the shock. But if I look closely at their eyes, I could just about see demons of hate dancing in them.

And I learned an amazing thing about Japanese human bodies. It seemed possible for them to physically distance their bodies from me without moving a single muscle. Because when the first loud words peeled forth for me, everyone close by seemed to instantly freeze.

Some in mid-lick on the ice cream cone. Then thawing of the body came quickly and their bodies seemed to simply, slowly drift away from me without the owners moving any muscle. Plenty amusing to observe.

Frequent interruptions to my preaching resulted in frequent new starts with my elbows in the ribs of a fresh new congregation of sinners. How amusing to see their shock reactions and then watch them just float away. Fellow preachers, that was a close preaching experience with hell-bound sinners.

And I invite you to preach to such close congregations when opportunity avails. It will do wonders for you. That church gate location turned out to be an excellent preaching spot because the mob littering and loitering there were not even half of my congregation.

I mentioned that a lot of them were licking a soft cream cone. They bought it right next door at a popular coffee shop that sold coffee-flavored mocha soft cream at a walk-up window on the street. And in peak season, a long line formed on the street from in front of that window and extended across the church entrance, along the church entrance there.

Sometimes the line of people went all the way across the 21-foot-wide church entrance and then doubled back to make two lines of eternal souls on the street in front of the church. If the people in line failed to double back but instead extended on across till they were in front of the store on the far side of the church entrance, that merchant would quickly come out and tell them to double back in front of the church. Sometimes when the line of ice cream customers started forming, in their ignorance they would line up in the opposite direction on the street, obstructing the entrance to the store on the other side of the coffee shop, whereupon a worker from the coffee shop would instantly come out, show them the error of their ways, and get them lined up in front of the church.

You dummies, don't you have any better sense than to block the store entrance of a money-loving merchant? Can't you see from that tangle of bicycles and that mob of ice cream lickers blocking the church entrance that is where you should line up? All the church is doing is holding forth the word of life to us hell-bound sinners. They're not doing anything important. But all these merchants here are busy making money, which is their God.

So don't you dare get in their way. Get over there in front of the church so as not to bother anyone who is doing anything important. That is not much of an exaggeration of their attitude, and it was most appalling to see.

As you now hear me preach this, several of those eternal souls who were doing that in the 1990s are now in hell's eternal flames. They're gods of mammon and worldly pleasures, now totally powerless to ever cool them one iota, to ever give them one drop of water on their parts swollen tongue. Neither was I quiet.

Tell of the cross where they nailed him, writhing in anguish and pain. Tell of the grave where they laid him. Tell how he liveth again.

Love in that story so tender, clearer than ever I see. Stay, let me weep while you whisper. Love paid the ransom for me.

Tell me the story of Jesus. Write on my heart every word. Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard.

Anyway, in addition to the mob of ice cream lickers and standing in front of the church gate with their elbows in my ribs when I started preaching, often a greater number, at the most up to 40 or so, and often, very often up to 20, were lined up in front of me because the street is so crowded the people in line tried to stay as close as possible to the street's edge that was already cluttered with bicycles, people, and one preacher all up against the church gate. Therefore, before I opened my mouth to preach anew, as I faced the street, that line of souls running from my left to right was often within two feet of my face. Fellow preachers, it wasn't like them being on the front pew.

It was like them being in the pulpit within two feet of me, close, ever so close. Oh, how I like that preaching relationship, but it's too bad they didn't like it. Each time, as soon as I let her fly after a brief interruption, those presently in line would also freeze.

Then the slight meander in line, not much room to meander sideways, it would change into a straight line as stiff, as straight as a stiff rod, as far away from me as they dared to get out onto the street, but still only four to five feet from me. They, too, appeared to relocate themselves without moving a muscle. What a marvel to behold.

Usually their talking ceased momentarily. Then, as the mob licked their ice cream at the gate, floating, licking their ice cream at the gate, floated away, the ones in line were faced with a major decision in life. Do I love this ice cream I'm waiting to buy more than I hate Bible preaching? The ones that loved that ice cream more than they hated Bible preaching stood there in line like true soldiers and endured listening to uncouth me so they could get that ice cream.

But often, or sometimes, two or three people would break rank and stalk away without their ice cream, showing me that they hated my preaching more than they loved that ice cream. What a sight to behold. And most of those who left the line because of my preaching were not mean-looking, terrible criminals or scuzzy-looking bums.

Most were highly refined society ladies. They are so admired throughout Japan and the world as important pillars of this great Japanese society and are looked upon by many as being such good people. But their proud hearts are overflowing with sinful hatred for their creator.

Heavenly Father, please change their hearts, grant them repentance, give them faith to trust in Christ and convert them into Thy children. Have mercy upon them, Lord, I humbly pray. Amen.

As I preach out in public, I look for captive congregations, people who are in a certain public place for a certain reason, like those waiting for their ice cream, though some of them will immediately cancel their business there and flee away, most will stick it out and remain there as the Bible preaching flows into their ears and on down to their souls and conscience. If you preach it out in public where you are, you might also want to look for such captive congregations. From 1988 or 89 on, I often preach in front of that church when the peak season mob of Japanese tourists is there.

Thousands of Japanese who never attend church heard how to get saved from the never ending punishment of their sins. On that final day when they line up for God's judgment instead of for ice cream, I reckon I'll be standing alongside them again. There'll be no bicycles in the way, and I will no longer be preaching as it will be too late for that.

I will just be standing there with a river of tears streaming down my face, sadly shaking my head and saying to them, I sure do wish you had heeded my preaching. I sure wish you had received the gospel and had gotten saved. Neither was I quiet.

Any place I preach in public, people's angry reactions clearly show how intensely they hate their creator, God, and his message to them. But as I watched how these Buddhist Japanese so highly respected store property and so gladly abused church property, even when I wasn't there preaching, showed me even more clearly just how deeply they despise their creator and his church and his work here on earth. In addition to all I have already said about them, they just love to throw down their garbage on the street in front of the church or to toss it over that gate onto the churchyard.

Those ice cream cones come with a sleeve of paper around the lower part of the cone for sanitation as they hold them, and those little papers were like a plague of lice thrown down on the church property and on the street in front of it. Though the coffee shop had a trash can placed conveniently out front for that garbage, still many people like to donate those papers to the church rather than take them 20 feet to the trash can. I soon started watching them closely and told them to pick it up when they threw it down at church.

Sometimes three or four people would face my cart standing right around it to lick through the ice cream licking surrounding my little cart, faking interest in my goods while hindering potential buyers. And if I weren't watching closely, some would leave their cone papers on my cart when they finished licking and walk away. The line of people in front of my cart greatly curtailed my business.

Trucks delivering to nearby stores would completely shut down my selling as they parked right in front of me. Those wholesalers purposely parked in front of the church to the stores they delivered to so as not to obstruct customers going into those stores to buy those wholesalers' goods. One truck driver assaulted me one day right there in front of the church when I objected to his large delivery truck blocking the church entrances.

All these hindrances deeply curtailed my sales as much as 60 to 70 percent at times I would estimate. And all these were light afflictions so very light and the word of God certainly wasn't bound as I offered eternal life in Christ to masses of souls. The coffee shop had a nice upstairs area where people leisurely sipped that strong coffee and as I preached that sermon and those words of the gospel would go into their ears.

Neither was I quiet. Please say them all, Lord, I plead. God bless you for listening to my preaching.

Intercede for the salvation of these many Japanese to whom I preach.