BEFORE leaving Burma, Fraser had, unconsciously to himself; been prepared for this very situation. For years he had been praying for a spiritual ingathering among the Lisu. For this he had lived and worked, regardless of cost. For this he would endure any hardness. With the deepening of his own spiritual life, faith had grown and become more definite. He had come to see that what was needed was the liberation of whole families from bondage to demon worship. The clan system was so strong that, unless the elders approved, the family altar and sacrifices would not effectively be done away. So it was for the turning to Christ of whole households, men, women and children, that he prayed with increasing longing. And then, down at Myitkyina, a crisis had come. In the home of Mr. and Mrs. Geis he was renewing his strength in quiet times of thought and prayer when he became conscious that God was speaking to him in a special way. Praying for his Lisu, that hundreds of families might put away their demon worship and turn in faith to Christ, the thought came with conviction:
‘You have been asking for this long enough. When are you going to believe that your prayer is answered?’
The difference between asking and receiving shone out with startling clearness. The burden became not so much the condition of the Lisu as his own lack of faith in dealing with God about them—the faith that obtains mercy and finds grace to help in time of need.
‘Now, ask in faith’, came the urge of the Spirit.
There and then the vital change was wrought.
I knew [he wrote not long after] that the time had come for the prayer of faith. Fully conscious of what I was doing and what it might cost me, I definitely committed myself to this petition in faith (hundreds of Lisu families for Christ). The transaction was done. I rose from my knees with the deep restful conviction that I had already received the answer.
So great was the change in his own outlook that, even before leaving Burma, Fraser had written to the members of his prayer circle:
The Lord has taught me many things lately in regard to the spiritual life. In fact my own spiritual experience has undergone some upheavals during the past twelve months. Not the least important thing I have learned is in connection with the prayer of faith. I have come to see that in past years I have wasted much time over praying that was not effective prayer at all. Praying without faith is like trying to cut with a blunt knife―much labor expended to little purpose. For the work accomplished by labor in prayer depends on our faith: ‘According to your faith,’ not labor, ‘be it unto you.’
I have been impressed lately with the thought... that people fail in praying the prayer of faith because they do not believe that God has answered, but only that He will answer their petitions. They rise from their knees feeling that God will answer some time or other, but not that He has answered already. This is not the faith that makes prayer effective. True faith glories in the present tense, and does not trouble itself about the future. God’s promises are in the present tense, and are quite secure enough to set our hearts at rest. Their full outworking is often in the future, but God’s word is as good as His bond and we need have no anxiety. Sometimes He gives at once what we ask, but more often He just gives His promise (Mark 11:2424Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them. (Mark 11:24)). Perhaps He is more glorified in this latter case, for it means that our faith is tried and strengthened. I do earnestly covet a volume of prayer for my Lisu work―but oh! for a volume of faith too. Will you give this?
Prepared in this way for the shock which had awaited his return to Tantsah, Fraser was enabled, as we have seen, to stand his ground unshaken. It clearly was wise to give time for the opposition to quiet down in that neighborhood, and after consultation with Mr. Embery, he decided to go on ‘a Lisu hunt’ in another direction.
A small incident it may appear―to occupy an interval with an evangelistic journey―but could the outcome have been foreseen, the young missionary might well have regarded it as one of the most important developments of his life. He was thinking only of the unreached Lisu in a district visited five years previously, on his first evangelistic journey, but One Who had been watching over seed sown at that time in ‘good ground’ saw that it was ready for harvesting. So to a waiting soul He guided His waiting servant.
It was early in February when Fraser started on this itineration, a six weeks’ journey to the southeast of Tengyueh. Many were the Chinese towns and Lisu homesteads visited, and the diary Fraser kept is full of graphic touches. He never let a day go by without preaching somewhere―in the open air, in tea shops, in Chinese inns at night or by Lisu firesides. As it was early in February (the Chinese New Year season) there were plenty of holiday makers about.
Small market, but very good time in the evening [is one brief entry]. Preached by moonlight, standing on a big high table in the street, with a smoky lantern. Unusual attention.
But the waiting soul was not there.
Strong though he was and accustomed to mountain climbing, Fraser found the long stages, poor food and disturbed nights pretty tiring. On the seventh day of his journey he came to the city of Longing, on the southern reaches of the Salween Divide, a district in the bend of the great river where it turns westward into Burma. From this place he did not follow his former route, but left the main road to find a Lisu settlement of which he had heard. The town of Hsiangta lay on this track over the mountains, and was reached too late at night to admit of his going further. New Year decorations were much in evidence and promised good audiences next day, but Fraser was tired physically and needing spiritual refreshment. So the following morning, instead of plunging at once into the work awaiting him, he slipped out early with his Bible and found a quiet place where he could be alone for a time. Such seasons were needful to him. Without them he could not have continued in a life so taxing and devoid of outward help. And there at Hsiangta, as his journal shows, he was specially cast on God.
Spent the day mostly in Bible reading and prayer, alone on the mountains. Felt I needed it. Asked God to give a blessing in the evening—my first visit to the place. A stranger in a strange land, I knew no one at all.
With this sense of loneliness still upon him, Fraser re-entered the town, hungry no doubt but spiritually strengthened. The prospect was none too hopeful, for a theatrical company had taken possession of the marketplace, but the performance was not yet due to begin and Fraser soon had a crowd round him. His accordion and singing aroused interest and, though there was some opposition, a hundred or so listened well as the evening shadows gathered about them. Earnestly Fraser reasoned with them of the one and only way of salvation, inviting any who wished to hear more to follow him to his inn. Then, as his custom was, he closed his address by drawing in the net. Would any of his hearers respond to the love of God by receiving the Lord Jesus Christ as their own personal Saviour?
Immediately a hand shot up, and a youngish man stepped forward with manifest eagerness.
It was quite impossible in one interview to satisfy the hunger of that seeking soul, though it lasted far into the night. Moh Ting-chang had much to tell, and it was with wonder that Fraser learned it was from his own hand the little book had come that made him long for light. He had never heard the name of Jesus until five years previously, when his son went down as usual to the great Shan plain, ten miles away, to sell the cakes for which his father was famous. For Moh was a pastry cook and a specially good one. The boy had one of his cousins with him, and they came in for an unusual experience. The marketplace at Mangshih was all excitement, for a white-faced foreigner had come and was actually giving away not selling, attractive-looking books to all who said they could read. The boys, of course, could not; but in the scramble to get the pamphlets, some fell to the ground, and were quickly picked up and hidden in their long, loose sleeves. Carried back up the mountain that night, they were produced in the pastry-cook’s shop at Hsiangta, and thus Moh had come into possession of his treasured copy of Mark’s Gospel.
For a treasure indeed it proved to be, opening to him whole world of new thought and feeling. The thing Moh could not account for was the response of his own heart to the One Who moved and spoke through its pages. Why was he so drawn to this great Teacher Who must have been more than man? Why did His sufferings unto death seem to have something to do with himself?
Years passed on, in which Fraser had little suspected the work that the Spirit of God was doing in that remote spot. And now he was face to face with the man to whom he had unconsciously been the bearer of Glad Tidings. How full Moh was of eager questioning, and how unwilling to let his newfound friend go on his way the following morning! But word had been sent ahead that Fraser would be at a certain group of Lisu villages that day, and the people were expecting him.
‘Come back, come back soon and be my guest,’ urged Moh as they parted; an invitation which was gladly accepted.
Turning southward from Hsiangta, Fraser had plenty to think over as he tramped the lonely mountain road to seek out this Lisu settlement. His face was now set toward a region never before visited by a preacher of the Gospel one vast expanse of mountains stretching away to the frontiers of Burma and Siam, occupied by a large population of Shan, Lisu and other tribes-folk. He was turning the first page of a new chapter in his experience, though as yet he little dreamed of the answer he was to see in that very region to his prayer of faith.
Tasiaoho was the hamlet at which Fraser was received that night with characteristic Lisu hospitality― cheery folk crowding in to keep him company round the big log fire. His hosts set before him the best they could provide and would not hear of payment. Best of all, they listened with lively interest to all he had to tell, singing over and over again the simple hymn he taught them and learning by heart a few sentences of prayer.
‘Go further south,’ they urged, when they found they could not keep him. ‘In all those mountains beyond, you will find many Lisu.’
This, Fraser had decided to do and, explaining to his new friends that he would still be some weeks within reach of them, he shortened his first visit so as to return to Moh Ting-chang as soon as possible.
It was something of a shock, on being received into the home behind the pastry-cook’s shop, to find all the implements of idolatry and ancestral worship still there and in use. Wondering greatly, Fraser said nothing about it, while fitting in to the family life. Moh’s welcome was unmistakable. He had prepared an upstairs room for his guest and, laying aside business claims, spent every moment with him, even sleeping on the floor beside his bed at night―the height of Chinese courtesy. But how, Fraser questioned with himself, could he still be burning incense to that prominent brass idol?
As the next day wore on, Fraser felt increasingly assured of the reality of Moh’s conversion and spiritual life. They went through the catechism together, talking fully over each question and answer. This brought up the matter of idolatry, but still Fraser made no direct application, waiting for God to work. At length, in the afternoon, Moh was so manifestly eager to follow Christ in all things that his new friend quietly called attention to the worship ancestors and idols in his home. Faced with this issue, Moh frankly confessed that he had not dared to touch these household gods. It was a serious matter. He feared for his family―his aged mother, wife and children. With full understanding, Fraser suggested that they should go to God about it, asking Him for strength to do the right thing and for His protection from all the powers of evil. Never could Fraser forget the prayer that followed, the first outpouring of a newborn soul in broken words and deep reality. He, too, prayed and Moh was strengthened.
When we rose from our knees he went straight to the stand where there was water and a basin, took a cloth and was about to approach the family altar, when again he hesitated.
‘Come over here and let us pray once more,’ I said, seeing the conflict.
We did so and that settled it. Without a word he removed the strips of red paper with the characters for Heaven, Earth, etc., also the incense, paper money, and the idol. Without a word he burned them. I had never seen it done before in so summary a fashion. Later, Moh said more than once:
‘If I have done right, I shall have good dreams tonight!’ Needless to say, my first question in the morning was as to know he had slept.
‘Good dreams, good dreams!’ he answered heartily.
And I could see that he was set at liberty.
That very day, Moh was preaching with Fraser in the marketplace, and the news spread all over the town that his idol and ancestral worship had been discarded.
I never knew a braver man in his witness for Christ [Fraser added later]. Persecution assailed him from all sides, just because he was so bold and bright. He has had his ups and downs, but never has denied his Lord.
It made it easier when Fraser had to leave the district a month later, to be able to say to the Lisu who were interested and would have kept him:
‘Come to Mr. Moh on market days or at any time. He will teach you more about the Lord Jesus. And he will write to me for you, if you decide to become Christians and want me to come over again and help you.’