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GRACE SUFFICIENT.
It is a serious question, whether the grace of
God is sufficient for all our needs. Diversity
is the law of God's universe. Every leaf dif
fers from ever}' other leaf. Every grain of
sand is shaped unlike every other. In the realm
of human experience there is untold variety.
The slightest turn may change the channel of
a whole life. Deep down in each heart is the
feeling that
''There is a divinity that shapes our ends
Rough hew them how we will."
Man is incurably a believer in a divine pre
destination. Then the question is: Is God's
graee equal to this endless variety of human
sin ami human experience? His word declares
that it is, "My grace is sufficient for thee,"
said a heavenly voice to a suffering saint. If
it is what the word declares, it is sufficient for
all our sins.
Paul was the greatest sinner. At least he
says so, by divine inspiration. He declares that
he was "the chief of sinners." But he could
say in the same inspired way, "But by the
grace of God I am what I am," namely, the
chief of saints, the marvelous master mission
ary of the world, the chosen of God to be
caught up into the third heaven. The woman
of sin is lost in the mire, but the forgiving
grace of Jesus reached even such an one, peni
tently weeping in the house of Simon.
The unpardonable sin is only beyond the
grace of God, because it is the fatal and final
rejection of that grace. It is tho spitting upon,
and spurning of the last overture of love. Like
the prisoner of the Bastile this sinner wants
only his hideous place of sin. God with an in
finite grace can only say, "Ephraim is joined
to his idols, let Him alone."
Is grace sufficient for our growth in spiritual
life? We are often taught wrongly that this
is something with which God's mercy has
nothing to do. Grace starts us off, but we must
keep up the pace and proceed. We need not
only to be born, but we need to grow. Can
we grow without the warm, loving life-continu
ing power of God ? Surely not.
Our position before God in this life is that
of children. And as children would go wrong
without the careful nurture of parents, so
would God's children without His grace sus
taining, strengthening and guiding us.
We are bidden to work out our salvation,
but we fail to read on, for it is God who is
working in us "according to His good pleas
ure, both to will and to do."
God's grace is needed. So we are bidden
to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Grace is the
sphere of growth, the necessary condition of
development. This world is called a vale of
tears. Sorrows stand round us on every hand.
The sharp shafts of distress assail all of us
sooner or later. Is there no balm in Gilead
for the sorrows of God's people? Paul had
the greatest honor accorded man, but at the
same time the greatest sorrow. He was taken
up into the third heaven and saw things he
could not tell, but he bad "a stake" in his side,
for he prayed that the Lord would remove it,
but He did not do so.
Paul learned as many a man must that Christ
needs our weakness more than He needs our
strength. Our strength may be His rival, our
weakness is His servant. In it His grace is
resplendent.
So we find the sufficiency of God's great
grace.
Is it not sufficient for you? Why not accept
its gracious power to save and sanctify and
soften your life?
A. A. L.
Contributed
ON THE PATH.
Egbert W. Smith.
Mutoto, April 17, 1922.
It may surprise some of the good people at
home to know that as I pen these lines in Mr.
Crane's hospitable home at Mutoto I am wear
ing mv light overcoat and listening rather long
ingly to t lie crackle of a lire in the adjoining
room. And this in the torrid zone!
Far the most novel and fascinating part of
nvy trip thus far has been my fourteen days'
journey by hammock and on foot from Lusainbo
to Bihanga and from Uibanga to Mutoto. My
companions on the path, usually one at a time,
but for a few days two, were Messrs. Bedinger,
AIcKee, McElroy, V. A. Anderson, and A. II.
Miller. My own brothers could not have l>een
kinder.
Each hammock had six carriers serving two
at a time in rotation and going at a swift stiff
kneed walk that kept the others at a steady
trot. Other bearers carried onr baggage, cots,
cooking utensils, and the like, swung on poles
with a bearer at each end. One or two of the
relay carriers as they trotted alongside played
on a little native musical instrument while the
whole company usually kept up a series of har
monious sounds, half song and half grunt, in
perfect time and rythm with the pad, pad, pad,
of the feet of the hammock bearers. On the
levels we rode in the hammocks, but on all
the upgrades and steep descents we walked.
Most of the way was among grassy uplands
continually swelling into immense smoothly
rounded hills whence we would look out across
what seemed a storm-tossed ocean of green, now
rolling up into great billow crests that shone
gold in the sun, now sinking away into black
green depths. Delightful beyond all other parts
of the path were the deep forest-filled canyons
in which the wide trail was so completely em
bowered with the dense foliage of trees and
climbing vines that we walked in a cool, green,
fragrant subway crossed at its lowest point by
a crystal clear little stream murmuring over
red, yellow, or purple rocks or slipping silently
over sand as white as milk. Many of these
eanyons were tremendously deep requiring the
most strenuous climbing with hands as well as
feet. I was continually reminde'd of Gwen's
Canyon in the "The Sky Pilot" and of scenes
in the N. C. mountains. Sometimes for miles
we would travel in a footpath ten inches wide
amid thick grass rising high above our heads.
The crocks we crossed borne on the naked back
or shoulders of a native and the rivers in native
canoes often 80 feet long.
Through at least 100 villages we passed, al-'
ways exciting the greatest interest, scores of
the villagers, especially the young people, run
ning alongside our hammocks with smiles and
native songs. Of these villages, 17 were our
mission outstations, where we spent the nights,
usually in the cottage of the native evangelist,
and at all of which, as well as at some other
points, we held services. At the beating of the
native wooden drum the church shed would be
speedily filled. After one or two gospel hymns
the missionary would introduce me by the name
given me by the natives, Muakashi Munene,
which means "The Great One Who Makes
(people and things) Better." These natives,
by the way, have remarkable insight into char
acter. After a brief address from me, inter
preted by the missionary, and a hymn and
Scripture reading, the missionary would preach,
while I, in a chair facing the audience, would
study the people.
After closely observing large congregations
at out main stations, and about 30 other au
diences in different parts of our mission terri
tory, I record my surprise at the physical ex
cellence of the people. With rare exceptions
they have fine figures, due no doubt to their
open air life, while the women's habit from
childhood of carrying all loads on their heads
has given them an erect and graceful carriage
that any western woman might envy. The
average native foot is about as well shaped, with
as high an instep, as the average white foot.
I was especially struck with the native head,
which is well proportioned, with good forehead,
and abundant brain room above and in front
of the ears. The nose is broad and low and
relatively less prominent, and the mouth and
lips are larger and relatively more prominent,
than the same features in the average white
face. In most of the congregations'! was
struck with the unusual width between the
eyes, a good sign of mental breadth and capa
city. In a single outstation audience I often
noticed several people whose eyes seemed al
most abnormally wide apart.
If the above description does not tally with
the popular notion of the African negro, the
explanation is simple. Strictly speaking these
people are not Negroes. There are four native
races in Africa, all dark skinned ; the Bushmen,
the Hottentots, the Negroes, and the Bantus.
From the Negroes on the West Coast, the
Guinea Coast, came most of the slave ancestors
of our American colored people. The largest
African race is the Bantu, numbering about
fifty million, and speaking 300 languages and
dialects which all show a striking uniformity
of construction but which are as different from
the languages of the Negro racial group as Eng
lish is different from Chinese. The people of
the Upper Congo are Bantus and it is among
them that our mission is working. While emo
tionalism is a distinctive trait of the American
negro, it is not a distinctive trait of the Upper
Congo people. Sobriety is as marked a feature
of the religious life and worship of the native
Christians here as it is of our white Christians
at home.
How I wish these white Christians could
have sat with me in those outstation services!
Only a small fraction of the people attending
were Christians, though a larger fraction were
usually catechumens, that is, enrolled members
of the native evangelist's study class. Yet the
whole congregation had usually been taught by
the evangelist a largo number of the gospol
hymns, both tunes and words, since few ha<l
learned .to read and only the evangelist owned
a hymn book. The people, though, have won
derfully quick and retentive memories and de
light in singing.
Think what it must be in a heathen village,
brooded over by dark and cruel superstition, to
have this Christian outstation where scores of
people regularly gather, long before they arc
ready to give up their heathen vices, charms,
witch-medicines, and fetiches, to sing from
memory such hymns as "The Great Physician."
"Trust and Obey," "Who is on the Lord'*
Side?" "Jesus Loves Me," "There is a Foun
tain," "Pasl Me Not," "I Hear Thy Welcome
Voice," "Come, Thou Fount," "The Head That
Once Was Crowned With Thorns," "Great Go?'
How Infinite Art Thou," "Jesus Is Calling.
"I Have a Saviour," "Hide Me," "Ring tl><*
Bells of Heaven," "Shall We Gather at tl*
River," "All Hail the Power of Jesus Name,