It was not a cathedral, where the congregation had assembled on that Sunday afternoon — not even a village church or a Gospel Hall. It was but a rude hut, the roof composed of dried leaves, raised in the center, and sloping on either side and supported by rough, wooden posts.
Thus, the “chapel” was open on all sides, except where at the far end was built a little anteroom, which served as the preacher’s bedroom, and was also used for private conversation and prayer.
This was Central Africa, and in the congregation, there was only one white man, the missionary himself. Around him sat dusky men and women, some half-clad, others, the Christians, in simple and bright-colored garments.
Suddenly, in the midst of the service, there came an interruption! Someone had crept in at the back—a man of lighter complexion than the rest, with yellow, tawny skin, fierce staring eyes, unkept hair, terrible to look upon! But the stranger, though of such menacing appearance, seemed ill at ease, and the preacher, noticing it, made a sign that room should be found for him to sit down.
The service continued, but the missionary could not forget the stranger. He knew by his lighter color and by his general appearance that he was forest dweller, a hunter of elephants, and other wild animals, one of the fierce brave people who dwelt in the heart of the lonely forest, and who seldom, if ever, visited the villages lying on its borders.
Something — Some One, seemed tell the missionary that this man, was hearing the gospel for the first time, and probably for the last time. It was the voice of the Holy Spirit whispered to him to preach to this poor savage as if he were the only one present, to tell him of One Who loved him, Who had died for him, Who was even now by his side, ready to listen to his prayer ready to save him, if he would but ask!
“It does not matter,” cried the preacher, “what your past life has been no one is too bad. The Lord Jesus can save you—now!”
The service ended, and the missionary asked any who wished to accept Christ, or who needed help, to raise their hand, Immediately the stranger’s, hand was held up, and when asked if he wanted to be saved he said, “I have accepted Jesus now. While you were speaking—I asked Him- and He has saved me!”
It was true! The wild, lawless hunter, who had been living in darkness greater even than the gloom of forest home, had found the Lord Jesus Christ and, he is now witnessing for Him among his own people.
But what had led him to make this (his first) journey to that village? He could only tell the missionary that he felt compelled to come; that some power seemed to draw him, that a voice seemed to call to him—to urge him, on and on, till at last he found himself within reach of the Gospel!
The Good Shepherd, who knows each sheep, who misses even one black one, had Himself gone after the lost one had called him, and brought him, rejoicing— home!
He learned of Jesus who gave Himself for such as he, and he now knew was saved by His death, and that He is in heaven for him, “I am the Good Shepherd, the Good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep.” John 10:1111I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. (John 10:11).
ML 07/21/1946