A Missionary Life -- Sidetrips
- Profile
- Images
Location: China, Malaysia, Indonesia
Wesley Day's Biography is presented in four sections:
- Genealogical Record: Jackson Wesley Day
- Autobiography: Space: A Missionary Life -- Biography of Rev. J. Wesley Day
- "Sidetrips" written by himself: Space: A Missionary Life -- Sidetrips
- "Scrapbook" written by others about his life: Space: A Missionary Life -- Scrapbook
Contents |
Early Life
Dunroven
In December, 1915, as shown by the deed, my father bought a farmhouse in Allenwood, New Jersey. He borrowed the money from my mother 's brother, Uncle Willie Walker, to pay for it. Uncle Willie had a peach farm in Ridgeville, Maryland. I think I was on vacation from college when Dad finished paying for it, and I attended a little mortgage burning ceremony. On the wall over my desk at Ocean Grove hangs a photograph of the house with Mrs. Alonzo King (I assume) standing on the porch. On the back of the picture was written in pencil someting like, "Mr. Day, this is your new home that you have just purchased." My brother, Roby, and his wife, Joy, had this picture framed, then presented it to Mom and me as a "Christmas present" February 1, 1961. Above the picture hangs a large hand-drawn picture of the house by Jeff Propert.
So December 16, 1915 Roby F Day bought the house from Alonzo King. On June 3. 1959, retaining life use, he sold the house to J Wesley Day and Ruthydia S. Day. In January 1979, retaining life use, J. Wesley Day transferred title of the home to Jackson H Day and Vivia Day Tatum.
During the school vacation, 1916, the Day family lived at Allenwood. After our arrival from Inwood the first big job was to pull weeds from the garden. I remember many of them in early June were already bigger than I was and I couldn't pull them. Mother objected to my working in the sun during the hot days, so my work was optional. One day mother got Indian suits out of a trunk or suitcase which she put on Roby and me. We played in them and someone took our picture.
After working through the heat of the day in the yard and the garden, sometimes we would walk down to the Manasquan River. There was a swimming hole a little down the river and just in sight of the bridge. Sometimes mothers would watch their little ones play in or near the water. Farmers put up a diving board which the older boys, especially, enjoyed. Some brave boys would jump off the bridge. I remember one time only the boys were there and some of the big ones said they were going to throw the little ones into the river to teach them to swim. I didn't want to learn to swim in this way so I went and hid. I don't think my brothers were there that day.
If families were present we wore bathing suits. If just boys were there we didn't bother..... but if a wagon or car approached we would dive into the water till it crossed the bridge.
When I was eight I was allowed to go fishing with a kind and elderly neighbor. I caught a few perch and sunfish. They were full of bones but they tasted good.
Our first summer in Allenwood, one day the Woolleys said, "Huckleberries are ripe. Let's pick some." So the Woolleys and the Days went huckleberrying in the open wooded country near our homes. I was just turning six, I was following the others when I began to cry. Someone saw what had happened---I had walked into a nest of wild bees or yellow jackets. I was quickly lifted out of the situation and ministered to. But I shall never forget the fuzzy bees that stung.
That year Mother killed one or more rattlesnakes on our farm. She had a collection of rattlesnake eggs, some in the act of being hatched, which she preserved. It is said there are now no rattlesnakes in Allenwood. There were some in 1916. I saw a little gartersnake near the house once and stood looking at it, friendly and curious, for about five minutes. People told me I was "charmed" by it. It was a charming little creature who seemed as curious about me as I was about it.
A humming bird, hardly bigger than a bee, drank nectar from the flowers at the end of the porch, standing on nothing to do it, just humming away.
Mother used to take us to the window, or out to the porch, to see the "pretty lightning." One time, however, while we were watching pretty lightning from our porch, the lightning struck the church steeple, a block away, and we retired into the house.
|
| Roby and Vivia Day with granddaughter Vivia at Dunroven, 1945 |
|
| Jack's 10th birthday at Dunroven, 1952. Ruthlydia, Jack, Granddad Roby, Vivia, Grandmother Vivia |
Dairy: In Love with Radio
Wesley Day, aged 14, began the year with a blank "Wanamaker Diary, 1924". On the cover he inscribed, with neat penmanship never again to be matched, Jackson Wesley Day, Inwood, L. I., N.Y. Here are some of the entries:
- January. Tuesday 1. Got up about 10:30, untrimmed Christmas tree in hall. Ate dinner. Had picture taken. Went down to the beach with Frank and Just got out of some quicksand. We rode on out to where the new bridge goes across the bay. Ate supper. Listened to radio. Went to church where Blackwood preached. Listened to radio. Played games. Went to bed.
- Wednesday 2. Got up about 8:30. Ate breakfast. Fooled around till dinner. Went to Far Rockaway for Mom and thence to the beach where I found a quarter. Went to Children's Bible Class. Read and listened to radio. Ate supper. Went to church. Miss Honeyman preached. Went to bed.
- Thursday 3. Got up. Ate breakfast. Went to the beach. Ate dinner. fooled around house. Listened to radio. Did dealing. Ate supper. took bath. Went to church where Mr. Dalhoff preached. Fooled with radio set. Went to bed.
- Friday 4. Got up. Ate breakfast. Did dealing. Emptied ashes. Ate dinner with Edward Teates' mother and father for guests. Played checkers. Went to beach with Edward. Played checker pool. Went to dock. Ate supper. Went to church and Mr. Teates preached. Ate nuts. Went to bed.
- Saturday 5. Got up. Ate breakfast. Showed Edward the town. He left on 9:55 train from Lawrence. Fooled with bum radio set. Soldered aerial and set leads to lightning arrestor. Ate dinner. Listened to improved radio set. Did dealing. Ate supper. Listened to radio. bought and installed gridleak holder. Set is now very loud. Went to bed.
- Sunday 6. Got up late. Took shower. Ate breakfast. Read radio paper. Went to church. Ate dinner. Read. Went to Sunday School. Listened to radio and read. Ate supper. Listened to radio. Went to O. E. Went to Church. Listened to radio. Went to bed.
- Monday 7. Got up at 7:00 (about). Ate breakfast. Went to school. slipped on wet floor and banged chin on iron post jarring a couple of teeth. This happened in gym at 5th period. Ate dinner. Went to school. Went to Far Rockaway. Tried Howard Player's variocoupler on radio set. It did not work. Ate supper and went to church. Took first type lesson from Roby. Went to bed.
My Favorite Teacher
Flora Darrow was a teacher but she was not my teacher. She was my favorite teacher because we walked to school together and played tag on the way to school. As time went on we found different ways to tag each other. We tagged by correspondence. She lived with Miss Ethel Hempstead and her mother. Both Ethel and Flora became missionary teachers in Japan in different denominations. Flora was from the Reformed Church and Ethel from the Methodist. On one occasion I visited with Flora Darrow in Japan. I planned to spend three weeks and stayed 3 more weeks of my vacation in Japan. This was in 1935 and I was still single. I corresponded with Flora for a few years after that. Flora Darrow's and my game of tag lasted some thirty years.
1931: Kalgan, China
Martyrdom Missed: Western Maryland College, 1930
Have you faced the possibility of martyrdom? Or to put it closer to home, of suffering for what you believe?
I can think of 2 times in my own life when I have faced such a possibility. The first time was in College, when as YMCA President, I had the job of inviting outside speakers to my college. One was a seminary President, and he made a good impression at the school. Another speaker suggested to me-- whom I invited -- was a colored speaker, Frank Brown.
My grandparents in Maryland had owned one or 2 slaves in the days of slavery -- but I grew up near New York -- where the brightest boy in my 6th grade class was a colored boy named Albert, and when nationals of every race and country were occasional guests in our church and home.
Soon I began to hear rumblings from my friends who heard of the invitation.
My roommate of the year before -- a Southerner -- assured me he would be on hand with rotten tomatoes. I thought privately -- it would be novel -- even glorious -- to carry on for a great principle in the face of rotten eggs and rotten tomatoes hurled by a mob of people like my roommate.
I was sure I was right and I kept my course. Had there been a fanatic group of Northerners, we might have had the Civil War to fight over again.
As it was -- the College was quite Southern in its students, staff and outlook. And I soon found that I was getting isolated. I can see the process more clearly now -- than I did then -- but I could see it then -- friends becoming less friendly. The word relayed to me that the Dean said in conversation he would have nothing to do with a "Y" that turned out such radicals. And a rumor that the President, whose support I had assumed in any such battle for righteousness -- had taken the other side.
We had it out in a "Y" cabinet meeting, when a traveling "Y" secretary was present. In every war there are those who go from one side to the other -- trying to bring the two together. So I knew the opposition was well organized. The charge against me would be attempted dictatorship, pride, acting superior, and so on.
Late that night, in prayer, I decided their criticisms were right, I had not been as humble as I should be, and I had no right, in our democratic organization, to force on them a speaker they didn't want. At the meeting there was the hymn and the prayers, then the business of the day, which turned out to be the criticism.
There was no fight -- I agreed with their personal criticisms, and agreed I had no right to force a man they didn't want as speaker, and offered to resign. But having won their point they were generous enough -- no resignation wanted -- just not to have a [blank blank] for a speaker.
I have wondered sometimes if I did not miss my supreme opportunity to be a martyr then. Some real questions come up -- is martyrdom the goal of this life? is martyrdom something that is still desirable -- should it be planned for -- and sought -- till it's obtained?
It is hard for me think that the first missionaries to the Bataks planned to be killed and eaten as martyrs, and as I re-read the account of Stephen's martyrdom -- I doubted that it was pre-meditated -- on either his part or that of the mob. He was a powerful speaker -- as was Peter -- but when in Peter's case they said, "What must I do to be saved?" in Stephen's case they gnashed their teeth in anger and stoned him to death.
I now understand a little more the difficulties and views of my white friends in the South.
A few years later in China -- with others -- I proposed a scholarship at my Alma Mater for a China student. In one of those beautiful bureaucratic occurrances, one was made available without our knowing it. A couple of years ago one of our Methodiste English School boys from Palembang, a theological student, was granted this scholarship. By then it had grown -- there were 2 students from Korea, 1 from Arabia, 1 from Israel, 1 from the Philippines, 1 from Syria, 1 from Indonesia. The President told me it was their desire to have Asian students know as friends people from all over the world.
When we came home from Red China in 1951, a letter was waiting inviting me to speak in Southern Virginia.
I had a grand weekend -- and carried a car trunk load of Planters peanuts back to New Jersey. The pastor was the same man, who 20 years before had spken for the opposition. His church has sent some special gifts here to our work.
The peacemaker of our group is a successful pastor and now a District Superintendant.
Maybe changes sometimes occur without the price of martyrdom. There's always a price for change.
The big Batak church remembers the first missionaries. The martyrdom of Stepehn was followed by sufferings of other Christians and the spread of the Gospel.
God uses the undiplomatic rashness of honest people -- as well as the psychologically trained diplomat -- to advance his kingdom.
Later our family faced other opportunities for martyrdom.
In West China, some were educators, some in hospitals, some in purely religious work. I was in purely religious work.
We expected the Communists to persecute religious institutions first, then schools, then hospitals.
In our family we decided if we must suffer, let it be for our religion -- nothing else.
The Communists came in and made trouble first for the hospitals, then the schools, and last of all for churches. To our surprise they were not looking for religious meeetings -- so we were relatively untouched until we left.
--J. Wesley Day, July 12, 1959. From a sermon on the martyrdom of Stephen, English Protestant Church, Sungei Gerong, Sumatra, Indonesia
Before the War
Arrival in China, 1933
Landing at the metropolis of Shanghai, I walked the first night into the narrow lanes of the Chinese city. I found a slum, dirty, miseable, with huge old etenements againste small alleys that only the briefeset noon-sun could reach. Yellow faces, made more yellow with dirt, crowded the dirty lanes in a city struggle for existence. Every human problem seemed in Shanghai waiting for solution. The difficulty of it made the statement of an ocean traveler who did business with the chinese seem plausible: "The only way to help these people would be to wipe them all out and start again."
But the next day a Chinese friend took me to see the city. he showed me the institutions where men live out their lives in bgringing new visions of life and new faith in those visions which see a new people and even a new society in these same slums of Shanghai. I found that Christian institutions were strong in this city, and that they were among the most powerful forces that saved the city from self-destruction.
Soon with headquarters at school in Peiping, I began to meet the village people. These, who form the largest of China's many millions, are uniformly poor -- in one of the richest countries of the world. Despite their awful poverty they smile often, give the beset of life to their little children -- and are kind to strangers.
"Why are your people so poor?" I have asked Chinese friends. "It is because where the government is strong, often it taxes the people till they break, and where the government is weak, bandits come and take what they will. Where famine is bad and food is scarce, greedy ones horde their food and people starve."
And a foreigner adds" Ancestor reverence has done its part in impoverishing the people. Each man must have boy children to honor his spirit after he dies. Mad propogation is followed by mad competition for the few things necessary to live. How can a people be rich if they are too many for the land?
"But whaqt of your religion," I ask of the non-Christian Chinese. As in America many answers come back, but among them the voice of old superstitious China: "We have many Gods" -- and the opposite retort of disillusioned youth," -- and we don't believe in any of them."
The first Chinese worshipped one God -- the God of Heaven. But soon they left this most important worship to the emperor, and except for state occasions, forgot Him. When the laste "Son of Heaven" lost his throne, even this poor worship of the God of Heaven vanished.
To-day China as a nation is in all kinds of chaos. The old order of things under the Emperors is gone, no new order of things has yet really taken its place. It is the logical opportunity to bring Christ to a people whose need is great. Of course there are difficulties.
Older, experienced missionaries speak of the troubles of the present and advise the newcomer, "Do not expect sudden fruit from the seeds you sow. If you reap the harvest where others have sown and cultivated be glad, but be not proud. If the work you do seems swept away by chaos or revolution, do not give up; the chinese are not an easy people to wsin to a vision of Christ. Day by day as we lived with these people, preaching to them, ministering to them, loving them, we often thought our time was barren -- but when we look back upon such years we find that god had blest our work. You who are young in His service, give much and expect little, or better yet, give all and expect nothing from men, and God will reward you richly."
J. W. Day, Methodist Protestant Mission, Kalgan, Chahar, China Printed in The Missionary Record, Board of Missions of the Methodist Protestant Church, February 1934, p. 23
A Country Trip, 1934
Far South of the Kalgan mission are to be seen the beautiful Southern Mountains, beyond which lie wide valleys teeming with villages and towns of olden China. It is our territory, claimed for Christ by our church, but for two bandit-ridden years no missionaries could enter it.
New Year 1934 Horace Williams was busy packing. Two Chinese preachers and Wesley Day also packed up bedding, some food, and lantern slides. Bicycles were tightened and oiled. January second we four started South.
FUTURE PHOTO HERE Horace Williams, Wesley Day, in 1934
That day we rode to Hsuan Hua. Next day we crossed a frozen, wind-blown river, and slowly made our way up a long mountain trail till we came to Shui Cahuan (Springs of Water), where we must spend the night.
We entered a gate in the crumbling walls of the village, and asked of the people who gathered to look at us, the way to an inn. There we announced a meeting for the night, and wished for privacy to rest. The keeper gave us one room to ourselves, so bothered only by curious eyes which stared through made-to-order holes in paper windows, we rested.
In the evening we showed slides of the life of Christ to the village people, who jammed the streets to see the big pictures on the roadside wall, and who listened with at least recurrent interest to the preachers. Some of the crowd talked, many crowded in on the light from the projector, and some crowded the rickety table we had borrowed for the projector, but they were good-natured, and we were glad they would look and listen. One of the missionaries, by turn, operated the picture machine, while the other walked about, keeping his feet warm in the cold of the winter night.
We sold a few gospels and returned to our room in the inn. Now a room in any Chinese home or inn is about half taken up by a k'ang, a wide, dirt, mat-covered platform three feet high, heated in winter, on which people eat and sleep. At our return the innkeeper burned straw in the fire places, which warmed the k'ang so we could sit upon it, while at the same time the smoke from the straw filled the room, making our eyes burn.
Cart drivers came in to bear their greetings -- plain greetings of good people, -- and some to learn of Jesus. As bed time came, our guests took their departure, then each of us made a long envelope from his bedding, and changing clothes by stages, he wriggled into bed.
At break of day we rose, to pack our bedding and send it by a cart that went our way. Then the Chinese cooked a stew of all the food on hand. We ate, and started up the road.
The trail was steep and long. But by afternoon we topped the mountain, seeing our next destination, Shen Ching (Deep Wells), in the distance. Before we reached the city, though we were dry as dust and dirty as the country in which we lived, we were gladly meet by Christian leaders. They took us to their little gospel room, and had us sit cross-legged upon the k'ang, tasting tea and cakes, while we told them of our journey. Their best room awaited us, new scrubbed and neat, where they gave us steaming water to wash, and a real chance to rest.
The Shen Ching group is one of our youngest groups of Christians. Two of Mr. Williams' Bible School boys preached there a year ago, a number showing interest. One drinking, wife-beating gambler had a new vision of what life should be while the boys preached, and he became the staunch, yet humble, leader of the Christinas in the town. He donated the gospel hall, and kept up interest when the young preachers were far away.
Two days we spent amid these people's kindness, while Horace and the Chinese taught the people, hungry to learn of Christ. (Only one trifle marred our stay -- the buzzy cat, who kept us company on our k'ang, ate all the lard we saved for breakfast eggs.)
The morning of the third day, because we had to go, good food was placed before us, much more than we could eat. We held a final meeting then the church boys wheeled the bicycles through the city, the leaders kept us company to the gate, and all wished our party peace and blessings on the way.
The two weeks journey passed. Some of our churches were in need of spiritual resurrection, but some were like Shen Ching. Pictures were shown every night out of doors tuill the weather was so cold the projector would not funciton. With audiences varying from fifteen to five hundred, the preachers always gvae their best. Mr. Williams spent ever more time in fervent, fruitful prayer. By the end of the tour four Witness Bands were organized to preach in the district.
When we finished briefly seeing our Southern Churches, and finally arrived at a foreigner's home, in material things we came to a new world. We sayed in a house two stories high, with floors not made of dirt, with rooms not smoky by night or cold as ice by morning, and where curious eyes never looked through little holes in paper windows. But of treasures not material the country is full, and we want to go back.
J. W. Day, Methodist Protestant Mission, Kalgan, Chahar, China
Printed in The Missionary Record, Board of Missions of the Methodist Protestant Church, July 1934, p. 86
Letter from China, 1935
Since the middle of August, when our boys and girls' school opened, my work has been in connection with it. As dean, I have been responsible for the school, policies, shortcomings, etc. The school is fortunate in having a faculty lyal to the mission and to its ideals. Becuase our scholastic and moral standards are the best in our frontier province, the non-Christian community leaders send their children to us, and these youngsters sing our Christian songs with as much energy as the rest. Teaching English has been quite a combination of pain and diversion -- about as easy as teaching Chinese to Americans, but most interesting nevertheless, and my one opportunity off the playground to know the students day by day.
Last summer the school asked me to teach English to a Confucian scholar and editor of the Kalgan newspaper. Feeling my time was well occupied, I was not anxious to add to its uses, but I have since been glad to have been teaching Mr. Chang. His son has studied English at our school last year and this, but he alone of all our students has never been allowed to attend our religious services, even at Christmas. Just a few days ago, however, Mr. Chang came to Mrs. Soderbom and to me, said he had decided to send his boy to a Christian Boarding High School, and asked us to help him choose one.
Last winter, when my Chinese reached the appropriate (?) stage I was invited to take my turn leading the daily school chapel service, a morning half-hour devoted to pray, song and a talk. In preparing for these my teacher worked over time seeing that in the Bible reading every Chinese tone was right and that the talk, which he was the first to hear, was not too utterly far from good Chinese.
A couple of days later Mr. Soderbom asked if I was interested in cycling up to a post-Christmas service at Shan-nan-shan, 15 miles away, where Grandfather Lee, in his own village, had started a church. There ought to be a missionary there for the glad occasion, and no one else could go. So I spent the rest of my Chinese study that week preparing the chapel talk into the first Chinese sermon.
After a long pull up the road I reached the village fifteen minutes before the service. The evangelist in charge, puzzled as to what to do with a Chineseless missionary, finally beamed brightly and asked me to say the benediction.
The country people were so hospitable, asking the missionary to make some visits, to stay for the afternooon meal (two meals a day is the country custom), aye, to stay for the evening meeting, and for the night, that after some urging the foreigner accepted. Tired out by the mission Christmas rush, and not particularly rested by a fifteen mile push, I was ripe for such a taste of the leisurely welcome of the country. So in the evening I brought the mission greetings, and your greetings -- of the home church in America -- to this young church, built and supported by the patient efforts of Grandfather Lee; and preached to this peole, many of them part of his own family of twenty-five people. The simple sermon reached these people, for after I finished speaking twenty minutes, Mr. Lee spent thirty or forty translating it into the dialect and mind of his children and neighbors, who listened to him carefully.
This winter, before school doors had closed for vacation, I was pushing my bicycle over the hills toward our southern country churches. Bible School boys were in the field and I wanted to see how they were doing. In the first town, "Western City", the church members asked all kinds of ordinary questions about this thing and that thing and I answered them, and their looks showed they had learned little. But when they called a meeting, and I spoke to them earnestly the message of God's love (which weeks before my teacher and I had labored on so long and carefully), I saw their faces bright with understanding.
And it was so in all the churches. I could not understand, let alone answer, all the many questions in local dialect asked about this and that, but when I spoke the simple children's message of a God who loves them, the people listened eagerly, and it was a blessing to speak to them.
During the balance of the school vacation I visited another section of China to see what Christians and others are doing to help the often desperately poor farmer, who is 85% of China. Taking advantage of the winter freedom from disease, I traveled inexpensively with the Chinese, often forgetting that my skin was not yellow like everybody else's.
I visited a communist-ravaged section of Kiangsi, now recovered by the national government, and where the National Christian Council has provided the government with some able Christian leaders to help recreate some of the destroyed communities. These Christian leaders need all the great faith that their religion gives them, in tackling the problem of the poverty stricken, illiterate, superstitious, over-populous and war despoiled, albeit very human and warmhearted Chinese farmer.
The winter term at school, begun February 25, is now on in full swing.
Almost at the opening of school special services were held at the mission led by Rev. Cecil W. Troxel, of Tientsin. Mr. Troxel has been a China missionary since 1901. He tells us here that he was started in the ministry through the encouragement of Rev. R. F. Day, now of the Inwood church, then ministering fo his first charge in Holder, Illinois. The meetings have been a success, Christians being strengthened, and others being added to the church. Those interested in our school are much gratified because four of our five young men techers in school joined the church last Sunday at the conclusion of these services.
Now is a favorable time for our mission work in China. The government, by and large, is friendly; while the people in our section are quite friendly and highly regard the church. Opportunities come to us frequently now, to lead people, high and low, into the Kingdom of God. How long this season of general goodwill toward the church and missionary here will last only God knows. Please pray that we may make the most of it.
May you know a rich measure of God's grace, at Easter and in the months to come.
Your missionary in China, J. Wesley Day.
Printed in The Missionary Record, Board of Missions of the Methodist Protestant Church, May, 1935. pp 21-23
Bricks and Porcelain
From a Sermon on Jeremiah 18:1-11, The Potter and the Clay
This is the best-known illustration of God's power over men and over history.
Jeremiah lived at a time when the people of Israel were doing many evil things. The rich were eating up the poor, crime and corruption were common, people were not worshipping God in their hearts, but turned to the worship of many gods. Yet they believed that because their people were God's favorites, no harm could ever come to them.
Jeremiah was against all that. And to get his message across, he visited the potter's house, near Jerusalem, and later told what he saw.
And what he saw was this: A potter was making a pot. In the making, something went wrong. The potter did not make the vessel he planned to at first, because it was ruined. Instead, he made something else.
And he told the people: You are like clay, Israel. God intended to make something beautiful out of you. But because you have been marred by sin, he will have to make something else. But be sure God's will will be done!
To make articles from clay three things are needed: 1. the clay. 2. the artist -- the potter, and 3. the process -- the procedure -- suited to the clay to make it what the potter desires.
The clay used provides one of the limitations of the potter. Poor clay will make a poor pot, and earth which is not clay at all may not have in it the possibility of making a pot at all.
When a child I used to play by the seashore. Sometimes with other boys I would watch the waves coming up the beach, then I would imagine each wave was an advancing army, and I would build a fort to hold back the enemy hosts. One wave would come up and touch my fort of sand. Then another wave would come and touch it, and several more, and nothing would happen to my fort, which I would think was defending me very well. Then a great wave would come, would run over my little fort of sand, and as the great wave swept out to sea again, there would be nothing left. I had built my fort out of sand, which melted away when moving water reached it. The nature of the sand was a limiting factor on what I could build with it.
In northwest China is a wide area of country covered by windblown loess soil. It is a very fine soil and has at least one unusual characteristic. It can be cut like a cake, and it will retain the shape in which you cut it. It is hundreds of feet deep in places. You may be walking along a path through a cornfield, and see a curl of smoke rising from a little chimney in the cornfield. You walk up to where the smoke is, and come suddenly to a cliff. Peering over the edge you look one hundred or more feet to the floor of a valley below. In the valley are some houses against the cliff, in fact some of the rooms of these houses are cave rooms dug into the cliff. From the cave rooms the people have bored holes up to the corn field above, from where the smoke of their fires can go out.
During the war, in 1937 I spent one night in a big cave, called a "Yao" in a loess cliff in Shansi. It was comfortable, went far into the cliff, and seemed very well protected. The people had a complete hotel by simply digging long passage ways into the cliff, then moving in furniture.
However, one year I read of a big earthquake in part of northwest China. The soil in which the caves were dug was shaken like ashes in a sieve. The cliffs and caves were shaken down, and thousands of people in their cave homes were buried alive.
The fine fine windblown soil, though it cuts like a cake and stands for decades against the rain, had its limitations; it could not stand a good shaking. He who would build in it must live within its limitations. The potter, like the builder, is limited by the material he uses.
The treatment of the material in preparation also has a great deal to do with the result.
In a valley behind our mission in Kalgan was a broad area where they made brick. To make brick is very simple. They take forms andf fill them with mud, and place them on the ground, then they lift the frame, leave the cake of earth to dry in the sun. When it is dry, they have a bricvk, all ready to use.
These are called "sun-dried" bricks, and are used very commonly throughout the country. They are very cheap, and for many purposes good enough. Thus when we wanted to keep thieves out of our yeard, we built a wall of sundried bricks, adding a layer of good bricks on the top, like a roof to protect somewhat against the rain. It lasted for a while, and didn't cost much.
However, one summer I made a trip through part of China, and came into a town in Shantung province where it had been raining without letup for two weeks.
As I walked through the poor section of town I saw a pitiful specatacle. The mud brick walls from which the homes of the poor were made were just melting away in the continuous rain. It seemed like the whole section fo town was melting away in the long-continued downpour.
Bricks made by just drying them in the air can't stand much.
There is another kind of brick which is made and can be bought in Kalgan. It is made from the same clay as the sun-dried bricks. But a good brick cannot be shaken apart, and it will not melt in the longest rain. It is brick which has been made by fire. Hardened by going through fire, it is very strong.
In these potteries near Kalgan they also made simple pottery. I have not watched the process, but it must be taht used in the days of Jeremiah. The potter near Jerusalem, we read, had a potter's wheel upon which he shaped the clay. This consisted of a havy disc below to give momentum, and a lighter disk above for the shaping fo the clay.
They make ordinary rude articles in Kalgan, like flower pots and water jars for daily use.
In another part of the country, in a certain town in Kiangsi Province, I have seen beautiful porcelain, renowned the world over, and made in that place.
I do not know whether the difference between the clay pots of Kalgan and the beautiful porcelain of Kiangsi, which graces kings' tables, is due to the clay, or to the artists, or to the process of manufacture. But there is certainly a difference in the result, and it must be due to one or more of these three things.
While traveling through I put my available cash into two tiny articles of porcelain which still gracefully decorate my little collection of Chinese treasures. I regret there is no evidence of Kalgan pottery in the collection....
-- J. Wesley Day, English Protestant Church, Sungei Gerong, Sumatra, Indonesia, October 18, 1959; in Indonesian in Ulu Church, Nov 1, 1959, and Medan Sekolah Alkitab (Bible School) December 14, 1966.
A Trip to Hanoi
January 1937
In Kalgan, China, the long school vacation took place in the winter for a full month or so. I spent these vacations seeing what I could of China.
In January 1937, during that winter's break, I took the train from Kalgan to Beijing, 100 miles south of Kalgan and then took the train on down to Hankow and from there must have taken the bus to Chung Sha where Yale-in-China had its headquarters. It was easy for missionaries to travel, for they could just stop in with other missionaries, paying a small amount to cover the cost of their stay. So I stayed in Chung Sha with a Yale-in-China pastor/teacher, an American family. I planned the next day to take a bus over the mountains to the Methodist work in Fukien province. (Chung Sha is in Central china, and there was a motor road to Fukien, requiring a day or two to get there). However, the day before, the bus I was going to take was held up by robbers, and as a result, there were no buses going to Fukien. Instead, i went to Guei Lin.
While travelling I would carry my little Remington typewriter. As the bus was bumping along, I would write of what I saw and mail it home to my parents. Central China does not speak Mandarin very well, but met a man from Shan-dung, the home of Confucious. Shan-dung means east of the mountains. This man was travelling with his nephew from their store in Shandung province, to a store owned by the family in Kunming. We got acquainted and we could talk the same language, so in Guei Lin he made the hotel arrangements and we saw the sights. Quei Lin is one of China’s beauty spots.
Then we continued to Kunming. There’s a railway from Hanoi to Kunming. My friend made the hotel arrangements wherever we went and in Hanoi we stayed in a Chinese hotel. Being Chinese he got special rates from the hotel so we paid at a commercial discount. Also at the hotel they put us on the train for Kunming. The next morning very early we were at the train station escorted by the hotel people who had bought the tickets.
The tickets they bought were 5th class. The train was a freight car with the doors open, containing benches for people to sit on. The passengers were mainly people going to and from the market, with their chickens to sell, a pig here and there, all country people. Enough were Chinese so we could talk with them. After a while I noticed some sores on the leg of a boy talking to us. I rmembered I had with me some mercurichrome. I asked if he would like some mercurichrome put on his sore. I put some on his sore. Then everyone in the neighborhood with a sore wanted to have it painted with mercurichrome.
Then one man--I looked at his sore and decided my mercurichrome wouldn’t do him any good -- it was too bad. I told him he must go to a mission hospital for attention . I gave him my card and wrote on it, "please take care of this man and send the bill to me." Then I asked my friend, do you know why I am doing this, sending him to a mission place for attention? One of the boys said, "I know, I know. You’re doing good deeds." I remembered a course in Buddhism I had had in Oberlin the year I went to China and in one of the schools of Buddhism they teach that to improve your lot in the world to come you may do good deeds and they will be remembered and improve your standing in the next world. I neither agreed nor disagreed with the boys. Except that it was important for this man’s illness that he get to a hospital.
The French inspector came on the train, saw me with a white face, and he said, this man cannot go fifth class. I don’t speak French. The inspector did not speak English. My frend spoke for me and said, "he has no money." I did not say yes or no. They persuaded him to allow me to stay in fifth class to Kunming.
Kunming is famous for having many tunnels. In Kunming I stayed at the YMCA. Chinese New Year came. I was invited to my Chinese friend’s peoples’ store for the Chinese New Year dinner, so I went. We had watermelon seeds and perhaps peanuts and tea and spent a long time doing that. I wondered when we would get to to eat. Eventually we did, a special Chinese dinner. Then immediately after dinner, we all said pleasant goodbyes and left. This surprised me but everyone else did so I did too. Then I learned that while in the West, we eat soon after arrival and then sit with our hosts enjoying converstion, in the Chinese culture, you sit around and talk before dinner--then when dinner is over, you leave.
From Kunming the problem was how to get home again to north China. In Kunming there was a China Inland Mission, also a British Methodist mission, and also a British and Foreign Bible Society man there and his wife. The Bible Society man invited me to stay with them. The China Inland Mission people arranged for me to take a trip to visit the Meo tribespeople in Kunming, so I spent one night at a China Inland Mission among the Meo tribespeople. I rode a donkey to get there and I had my Chinese fur coat. I remember that the side of me that was in the shade was cold, but where the sun was shining, I was warm, so I covered the shady side with the coat. Among the Meo tribespeople, the unmarried women tie their hair in one know, the married women two. The Meo have a different language and customs than the Chinese.
The language in southwest China is a kind of Mandarin, as is West Chinese--just an accent, but you can communicate. I heard from the Chinese there that a few years before, the Communists had been there and they had marched the missionaries through the streets to embarass them. But one missionary said that he looked with love at the people among wom he was being marched, but the people had looked on them, because of the communist teaching, with hate. However, when he looked with love, they stopped looking with hate.
I wanted to get to the Burma Road, but there wasn’t time. There was an airplane that would fly on a certain day from Kunming to Chengtu and I knew that would enable me to get home on time. So I took the plane. Instead of checking everything, which would have been very expensive, I wore everything I could, including my fur-lined coat, which was uncomfortable because the plane was very hot--but I survived and arrived at Chengtu, where there is a West China Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church. I had wired ahead that I would be arriving from Kunming and although no missionary met me, someone did--it looked like a gold plated rickshaw. I then stayed with Dr. Williams at the Chengtu Methodist mission.
I spent just a day or two in Chengtu, then from Chengtu took a bus to Chungking and then a boat down the river. It was a several day journey down the river. On the boat there was no regular way to eat. There was a cook. You cook buy food such as he would cook. Among the people I met was a school teacher; together we dickered with the man who cooked, so we had good food. (As to its cleanliness, I will say nothing). One of the people in our talking group could look hard and coolies would run when he looked hard at them. When we came to a landing and wanted to go somewhere, I would watch the baggage while others did what they needed.
At one town there was a Chinese theater which was having a big performance, so our group decided to go to the Chinese theater. By that time, in our group there was a boy in his teens and his younger brother He said, I will not go. He had heard that there would be women actors in the theater--and it was against Confucian teaching for women to act in the theater. But i went with the group and they did NOT have women actors. I took a mental note that the Confucian boy was very faithful to the teaching of his parents.
The boat went as far as Hankow, then I took the train to Peking. As we went through Peking there was an auction, and on sale was a Victor phonograph, a full sized piece of furniture. It didn’t cost much so I bought it and managed somehow to get it to Kalgan. So I had a phonograph. In a few days there came from our supporters in Maryland some phonographs records ---- Caruso and others, so I now had a means of playing them.
After the war, there was a Central Conference held at Fukien and a delegtion went from Peking. By that time the union of the three branches of Methodism had taken place, so we joined the delegation to Fukien. There I decided that though it was an old and important work, the food was not as agreeable as Chengtu, so when I had to decide later, I chose Chengtu. Those people who were in Fukien did not have too good a time after the Communists came in, but in Chengtu when they came in, they had already won the hearts of the people in their esape from Chianxi province, and they made common cause with the people who were suffering from a corrupt government. We thought we would be in Chengtu two years before they came in but it turned out to be one.
Dictated December 26, 1998 edited by Jackson H. Day
Japanese Bombers - August, 1937
A Letter from China, August 28, 1937 (The Missionary Record, October 1937, page 21)
...Returning August 13 from T'aiyuan to Tatung, and finding weather cloudy, I took night train to Kalgan.
Next day it rained hard all morning, insuring Kalgan against air attack, or being cut off by bombed bridges, for that day. (Kalgan had been bombed during previous two days, but none at mission were hurt.) During day, Williamses completed turning over mission affairs to Chinese Committee, we packed up our more important possessions, and left by midnight train. (During days following, Kalgan was bombed severely, hundreds were killed, buildings destroyed. One bomb landed in empty dugout in Three Cornered Yard, in Mission. From our latest information, August 28, no one injured at our mission, and no other damage of importance. Other missions were hit, with some damage.
With us leaving Kalgan was Mrs. J. H. Ingram, retired American Board Missionary from Peiping, and her three little granddaughters, whose mother was in Peiping.
At Tatung, Shansi, the Williamses and Ingrams rented rooms in city, belonging to Anglican Mission, while I stayed in Anglican Hospital. Tatung seemed out of immediate dnager, missionaries there had no intention of leaving, and we stayed several days.
Hundreds of wounded soldiers arrived by train from Nankow, and were receiving no medical attention. In conjunction with Salvation Army, Horace and I volunteered our car and ourselves, and on 21st, 22nd, and 23, carried wounded soldiers from station to hospital, or other places of rest, government supplying gasolene. There were hundreds of soldiers more than could be cared for by all facilities, including a new thousand patient hospital.
Tuesday, the 24th, after only a few hours sleep (we had been transporting wounded half the night), Mr. Williams called me, said he felt we should go that day. So we packed in morning, left in afternoon. We had gone a few blocks in city when three shots were fired, warning of air attack. We continued, and were an hour on our way when planes arrived. As planes came near we put American flag on car, hid in fields of hemp. Then we watched smoke rise from bombing of Tatung. Foreigners fleeing Tatung that night tell us that Williams-Ingram house was hit--an hour or so after we left it, ruining house and killing two Chinese.
We have promised to evacuate Tatung missionaries with our car if they have no other way to safety, but I am writing them to get out and not count on us, as notice by telegraph may be impossible, roads there dangerous, and T'aiku missionaries in need, when their time of emergency comes.
"Green Glory" (car we gave Mission last year) is in T'siyuan, but I shall get it here if roads open up after recent bad rains. I shall keep in touch with Kalgan if mails are open. As T'aiku is perfectly safe for the present, and the missionaries, mostly women, most cordial ready to help if the need arises.
Please don't worry, but pray for us all -- especially the Chinese who cannot leave, as we do. Very sincerely, Wesley Day.
Letter from Horace and Margaret Williams, Hankow, Lutheran Home, September 1, 1937 (The Missionary Record, October 1937, p. 20)
We reached here day before yesterday from Shansi, where we left Wesley with missionary friends. Yesterday we interviewed the United States Consul who said he would forward a message to you for us....
Just what is best to do is our greatest problem. A few missionaries (Norwegian) remained in Kalgan. Following Consular advices, we came this way. Our hearts are in Kalgan with our friends. Heavy fighting has been going on for some days. The Japanese claim to have captured the city; the Chinese say it is theirs. I believe there is no clear victory yet. It is true that the Japanese are very near.
This means more suffering for our friends. The last we heard stated that no Christians had been seriously injured, nor had our property been damaged. We give thanks to God for His keeping care. But at the same time only bombing had been experienced, now real fighting has begun.
It is a terrible experience to be under those huge bombers realizing that the Japanese are ready to blow up civilians and wounded soldiers as well as anyone else. Two Russians were killed in Kalgan, no one was really safe. As we travelled southward we found every city and every Railway Station preparing for probable air raids...
On Saturday we heard of wounded soldiers due to come, and at request of local Salvation Army we volunteered our truck. So Saturday night we went to Army Headquarters and took out five days supplies of gasolene in tins).
The wounded were held up over Sunday on account of fighting just west of Kalgan. They arrived Monday noon. Swedish and Norwegian missionaries aided Salvation Army in giving First Aid. Wesley and I changed at the wheel, alternating in hauling wounded soldiers. It was after midnight Monday night when we got to bed, 670 wounded having come that day. There was a report that hundred more were coming.
After a few hours sleep I was awakened with the feeling that we should move that day. Everyone was willing for me to make the decision for them. During the forenoon some packed while I excused ourselves for not helping the wounded further.
It was about 2 PM when we finally left the city. We were going down the main street when the airplane alarm was given. An hour later we were going nicely through the country having passed through the city gates, etc, when we were stopped by soldiers who pointed to airplanes behind us. Hurriedly, we abandoned the car, hiding in a hemp field. Over Tatung we could plainly see four Japanese bombers. Then we heard dull explosions and later we saw huge clouds of smoke ascending. It reminded us of Lot leaving a doomed Sodom.
Two days later in Taiyuan we met friends who had left Tatung after that bombing. The engineer of the hospital where they were staying had visited the place we just evacuated. He reported that the building which we had lived in was the center of a large bomb explosion and that two Chinese in the same yard (caretaker's family) had been killed.
As we wait in Hankow, not knowing what to do nor where to go, we ponder on the goodness of our God and ask for clear instructions that we may now how to praise Him aright for delivering us from such great destruction.
It may be that we must leave China, but we do not wish to leave while our Kalgan friends are in the midst of such a great calamity. We are hoping that the fighting line will move from Kalgan. If so, it is possible that we could return (temporarily if not permanently.)...
It is impossible to get money in Chahar and Shansi. Even here in Hankow funds are not too plentiful But I am sure we can get enough for our needs. If Japanese forces occupy Kalgan we'll try to get money through from Manchoukuo.
With best wishes to you and the whole church, Sincerely, Horace and Margaret Williams.
|
| Green Glory |
One adventure was crossing the river near Hua Sho Ying. There was no bridge. Green Glory stopped in the river.
With the coming of war in 1937, Green Glory carried missionary refugees hundreds of miles to safety. Green Glory then carried us.
From near Tatung we watched bombs drop on the city we had just left and later learned some dropped on our temporary home there.
We left Green Glory with an English Baptist missionary. He hid it between two buildings and invading armies didn't see it. In August 1937 he wrote, we still have your car. We responded: keep it if you can.
In February 1938 I got a Japanese pass to go for Green Glory, with our Chinese School Principal. There followed days of travel behind Japanese lines. Sometimes soldiers on our train fired on guerrilas in the mountains.
At Taiyuan Green Glory was loaded with missionaries to go gack to station. We waited, then with other refugees returning, set out.
Each day in the morning we prayed for safety that day. Each evening we thanked God that we had arrived.
One day shots passed us. We stopped. No shots. Started. More shots. Stopped. No chots. Started. No more shots.
We used the Christian flag on front.
One day we were in the mountains. It was very dangerous. We used the American flag. The Japanese searched our car thoroughly. Later we missed a bag of pears. But we were glad we had ourselves.
The next to the last day, we were in the mountains. We went up on the ice of a river. The ice cracked below us. I turned around -- we sped for our starting point with ice cracking beneath us.
Then we took the cart road. We got stuck in the mountain. We jacked up the car and built up the road for 200 feet.
Then we were back to Kalgan, and its regular visiting of churches. We reported our schedule to the Japanese, and they allowed it.
Once Mr. Wu Wen-Yu was accused down in the country. We got there before the accusers did. The Japanese official was good to us, promised to release Wu. The next day we passed him in the truck, tied with ropes -- to death or life neither he nor we knew. But the official kept his promise and freed him.
I went on furlough in December 1938. Horace Williams continued.
In May 1942 the Japanese came to the mission, gave him a receipt, and took Green Glory. He gave the receipt to me after he went home on the Gripsholm.
Returning to Kalgan on April 1, 1947, I saw on the street Green Glory, old and weary, but still there. I took the receipt to the Chinese authorities and got it back, minus the parts somebody had put on it.
I gave Green Glory to the Williamses, and it went to Sinkiang.
-- J. Wesley Day, November 1, 1959, from sermon notes preached at 7:30 PM, English Protestant Church, Sungei Gerong, Sumatra, Indonesia.
Green Glory
Before motorcars, missionaries in China travfelled by mule litter through the Nankow pass; on horseback, via railroad, via oxcart, and bicycle.
Missionary Horace Williams was on a cart that overturned in a snow storm. He saw a new motor road nearby, and dreamed of a car to use it.
In the US, missionary supporters for $1 sold tickets called a "ride to China" and raised money to buy the car.
The car would have to be adaptable. Roads were rough, boys unafraid -- they would jump on the car when it went through a village.
We got a truck chassis with a 7-passenger body on it for gospel teams and baggage. We first called it the "Gospel Car," but it quickly became "Green Glory" to the children -- and all. It made work easier. Churches were nearer, regular visiting was possible.
|
|
| Green Glory |
Mission Letters
Letter, February 8, 1947
|
|
Letter, June 10
|
|
Letter, March 9
|
|
Letter July 18
|
|
Letter June 20
|
|
1947-1987
Under the Communists in Chengtu
In West China people were better off than in North and Central China. We heard stories of corruption in government. Such would be circulated by Communist propagandists, but undoubtedly had some truth in them.
Why We Stayed: There was just a chance we might do work if we stayed -- no chance if we left.
The Coming of the Communists.
People were well prepared -- there were golden hopes of a new day with "Liberation." West China people welcomed the Communists in, hoping for honest government, economic opportunity, and, above all, peace. The soldiers were always courteous to people -- they believed themselves liberators -- made a very fine impression.
When the Communist soldiers marched into town, students went out to welcome them. The pink members of foreign staff went in parade with the students. Most foreigners were advised to stay home and did. The university borrowed my friend's truck, so I went along to help him drive.
The welcome was very real. One student cheerleader, spying us, led a cheer for the Americans, but the response wasn't too good -- it wasn't in the book. That was New Year's 1950.
There were very few changes at first. We were under a military government, which proclaimed that property of those who obeyed the government would be protected, and churches and foreign institutions would be protected.
There were giant parades everywhere, welcoming the liberation of the people.
Foreigners were registered after a month or two. I was told after registration was complete, I must get permission each time, but would be allowed to preach in churches of the district if the roads were safe.
This was promised in March. I inquired fairly regularly when I might go out, till the anti-American developments in the summer when the Korean War started -- when I stopped asking.
The Communists required all people they could reach to study.. They had masss meetings on the campus, followed by small discussion groups. The pinks among the foreigners organized a study class for the study of Mao Tze tungs' works and most of us joined. In every house people were required to go to office early, spend the first part of the day in study -- of Mao. Often only one person could read -- and he would read to the rest.
Property of Chiang's friends was confiscated.
Along in the spring, taxes were levied -- the poorest people of a section fo the community wee called togther in a tea house, and they assesed taxes in their section of the city according to what they thought people should pay. They had a high levy to meet -- there were free to assess more if they wished.
Furniture and furnishings from rich homes began to appear on the streets for sale for lowe prices, as propertied people tried to meet their taxes.
In June we thought of leaving -- but students acted quite disappointed when we suggested it. I preached in our downtown church in August.
In the fall, another anti-American wave was carried out, when Chinese volunteer troops went to the aid of the North Koreans.
About that time one of our friends, principal of a school for midwives, was put in jail 5 days because, so she was told, she had interfered with the Hsin Yang (Faith) and Li Pai (Worship) of her students by having taken down a picture of Mao Tse Tung from her assembly room after a meeeting, some months before.
At about this time, all over Chian -- at the same time -- foreign teachers werer called to the police to confess their indiscretions -- like saying in private conersation that North Korea had invaded South Korea.
Their confessions were put into the papers all over china at once, and generally they were allowed to leave the country.
Some missionaries were put in jail on various charges in November 1950. One American, a Methodist missionary, was put in jail then, and is there still, almost 2 years later, with no formal charges against him.
We applied November 6, 1950 for permission to leave. After various difficulties we wre allowed to leave on January 4.
Travel through China in Jan 1951.
We travelled by old car to Chungking, arrived Jan 6, where we waited till Febraury 2, (I think) for our turn on a ship down the Yangtze.
We took the tickets which came -- we were not discriminated against -- wew got 5th class tickets , as most people did, so we travelled on the deck to Wanhsien.
At Wanhsien we passsed Chinese New Year, forbidden to leave our hotel. On desk of police chief: "Love to our friends, hate to our enemies, should be engraved on the heart of every policeman.
Each night along the way our rooms were searched by a party of soldiers. Chinese New Year's night they came in about 2:30, usually it was earlier.
Our baggage was searched altogether nine timese on the way out.
From Hankow we proceeded after two days delay, by train to Canton, then the border.
At the border -- offical examined my pass -- as I looked at the British Union Jack on the other side of the barbed wire.
Official: "This is no good -- it has expired." Discussion. Then Australian missionary studenet held his up -- said" "Mine is good for today." Official looked at each in turn, then at mine. "Go", he said.
We singled filed to a hole int he double row of barbed wire, gave up our travel permits to the guard, crossed a bridge, quietly sang the Doxology to ourselves.
A British Customs officer a few minutes later said to us, "What will you have, folks? A Coke or an orange juice? It's on the house."
-- Presentation to Rotary in Teluk Anson, Malaya, Tuesday 30 September 1952.
Home Leave, 1967
Return to Indonesia, Malaysia and China, 1980
Indonesia
Early in the year there were Mission Saturation Events, Mississippi in February, Indiana in March, Tennessee in April. People heard of what they, through our chruch, have done -- especially in China and Indonesia. During the question and answer period, often someone would ask: "When were you last there?: My answer: "China, 1951; Indonesia, 1974." It was time to update my experience in these lands.
One opportunity came in a letter from Bishop H. Sitorus announcing the 75th Anniversary Jubilee of the Methodist Church of Indonesia, to be held in Medan July 11 to 13. All former missionaries were specially invited to attend. Four atended, of whom I was one.
On Bishop Sitorus' invitation, I went early, attending two annual conferences, then stayed over, spending altogether six weeks in North Sumatra, South Sumatra, Lampung Province and Jakarta, visiting churches and friends. In Medan, North Sumatra, in addition to the Methodist University and the Bible Institute, the Methodists now have a hospital. Wesley Church has a new sanctuary, almost finished in July, in Medan Baru or "New Medan."
In Palembang, in South Sumatra, the Sekolah Methodist I (former Methodist English School) is thriving, has built new classrooms, and is planning to build more. Sekolah Methodist II and III are crowded. SMIII is in "Ulu", now integrated with Palembang by a major bridge over the Musi River, has major building plans, and is looking for means to build. Little groups of Christians in the Palembang District that I knew in the '50's are now organized churches pastored by Bible School graduates.
In Lampung Province, I had taken part in the ground-breaking ceremony for our church in Tanjungkarang in 1965, then was transferred to Medan and never saw the church till this summer. There is now a strong congregation in Tanjungkarang, with a growing school next to it. The Tanjungkarang lay leader, Stephen Rachman, took me in one day through the deep muddy roads of the Transmigration Area around Kaleinda, where among the struggling pioneer farmers there are now six Methodist churches and three preaching posts.
In Jakarta are two strong Methodist churches. The church at Angke has had a miracle growth and has just enlarged their sanctuary and school building.
In Indonesia there is only one qualified doctor for more than 20,000 people. Facing this need the Methodist Church, in a rare gesture of faith, established a medical college. Its first graduate this year received his government credential. The church also decided it must have at least one clinic in each of the seven districts in the church. To assist in this need, the St. Paul's United Methodist Church of Brick, New Jersey, which helped me make the Indonesian trip, has taken on as a goal the sponsoring of a clinic at Rantau Parapat, Sumatra, during the next five years.
Going back to Indonesia, where Ruthlydia and I served from 1955 to 1974, was a treasured and eye-opening experience. Our church is indeed moving forward.
Malaya
My welcome was equally warm in Malaya, where I spent six days among friends we had known from 1952 to 1955 at Teluk Anson.
China
The opportunity to go to China came in an announcement by the United Methodist Heritage Fellowship, a group of Methodists who took people to Wesley's England in 1978. They wrote that in November they would take a group to China. Beijing (Peking) would be headquarters, and the group would also visit Shanghai, Wuxi and Xian (Sian). Rev. Clarence L. Roark, of Baltimore, and Rev. Dr. Kenneth B. McIntosh, a former UM China missionary, would be leaders of the group. I had served in Kalgan (Zhangjiakou), 130 miles Northwest of Beijing during my first term, 1932 to 1938, then again in 1947-1948. I thought, "It just might be I could pick up some news after thirty-one years' silence, about our friends in Kalgan.
After arrival in China, Ken McIntosh said to the group: "Write on a card anything you specially would like to see or do while in China. I'll speak to our guide, and if possible arrange it." I wrote. "I want to go to Kalgan."
We saw schools, factories and communes in Shanghai. Marvelous! The same in Wuxi, on Lake Tai. Beautiful! In Beijing we saw the Palace Museum ("Forbidden City"), the site of Peking man. The Great Wall. Magnificent!
|
| Bob and Ruth Zeller, cousins, with Wesley Day at Great Wall, 1980 |
But what about Kalgan? Ken spoke to our guide, then I spoke to him. He said: "I am from Kalgan. I hope you can go and that I may be your guide!" The impossible might happen! But it didn't. Internal Security said "No." They politely explained via the guide that "Kalgan is not open to foreigners yet. We hope, soon."
The trip to Xian was cancelled due to bad flying weather at Xian. This gave us more time in Beijing. Ken and I called on the Protestant Church leaders. Rev. Kan Shui Ching said he was a student in the Methodist Seminary in November 1948, and was among those who bade farewell to the Methodist Missionary families who left Beijing then, including the Days.
Rev. Kan said, "Two of our pastors in Kalgan were in Beijing two months ago and came to see me. When you come again, let me know when you will be in Beijing. I will write them, and arrange for them to come to meet you."
I gave Rev. Kan and the other ministers with him my copy of the English Bible, and my Chinese New Testament. They then gave me a copy of the Chinese New Testament just printed (photo reproduction) I think in Shanghai, and a copy of the hymnal in Chinese, and another in English, they use in their service. They also gave me a copy in Chinese of the Resolution adopted October 13, 1980, by the Third Chinese National Christian Conference at Nanking, which they attended, at which conference the new China Christian Council was created.
Our last day in Beijing was Sunday November 23. We were able to attend one-half hour of the Beijing Protestant Service, before going on a trip planned for us by China Travel Service.
The former Bible Society House, now Protestant Church headquarters, was crowded with worshippers on the second floor. On the first floor were loudspeakers and more people worshipping. Our guide went with us. The audience sang, "Jesus, lover of my soul," and "Lead Kindly Light." Their last hymn --after we left, was "In Christ there is no East or West." Why do the old people cry when they sing?" our guide asked later, much moved. We told him, "After thirty years of silence, they can now sing again. " Grey-haired Rev. Ying preached from the text (Matthew 16:24) "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me."
Thirty-six were baptized in this service. A week before thirty-six were baptized in another service. One half of those baptized are from Christian homes. The others are not.
Earlier, in Shanghai, some of us had been able to visit and pray in the Moore Memorial Church, the first church to be re-opened in Shanghai. It is a large church -- and crowded every Sunday. Also some of us visited the former Mateer School, built by the Southern Methodist Church.
We had no contact with the large number of "house churches" which apparently are tolerated, but have no recognition by the government.
In conversation, our guide said to me: What is the belief of Christians? What is your faith? Are you happy in your faith?
He is the young China.
Everywhere are signs of friendship for the United States. At the same time they are, like us, a proud people who will brook no domination by any outsiders.
In places where we were taken the Chinese government has made great strides in organizing the people for self-help. They now want outside help to modernize their country.
What can we do as Christians? Pray, be true friends, serve the people, witness when opportunity affords to the beliefs which give meaning to our lives.
God be with you during 1981
J. Wesley Day
From a letter dated Winter, 1981 addressed to "dear friends, near and far."
Return to China and Indonesia 1987
Return to China and Indonesia, 1987
September 9, 1987, I left home to drive across the country, calling on missionary friends along the way. September 28 in Vancouver, B. C., I joined a New York Area church group going to China, where we spent 12 days. Leaving the group in Hong Kong, I continued to Indonesia, where I spent two weeks. December 17 I was back in Allenwood.
China
China was almost a homecoming. In Beijing I met for the first time in 40 years two sisters and a brother of my closest friend and associate, the late Rev. Yao Pei, of Kalgan (Chinese place-name: Zhang Jia Kou).
Yao P'ei was a teacher in the Methodist School when I went to China in 1932. His father, Rev. Yao Shu Te, was principal of the Methodist Bible School. We experienced together much of the Japanese occupation fro 1937 till my departure for furlough December 1938. His father died while serving the church during the war with Japan.
In 1947 when I returned to Kalgan Yao P'ei was pastor of the Methodist Church in Kalgan. We served together on the International Relief Committee. It was he to whom Ruthlydia and I went for counsel when our son attending Grade 1 came home using words we had never learned in Language School! It was he to whom we went when a destitute family was about to destroy their newest baby girl -- unless we would adopt it. (He said, I know a couple who would like to adopt a baby. Maybe...." Yao Pei died serving his church during the early 80's.
This time (1987) our tourist party was in Beijing two days. The first day I spent with two sisters of Yao Pei at the home of one of them in an old-style courtyard in one of Beijing's "Hutungs" (lanes). Her one child, a daughter of nineteem years, plays beautifully the piano which is crowded into their bedroom. The girl's paternal great-grandfather was a famous poet. Mother coaxed daughter to speak English, of which she has learned a little.
With the sisters of Yao P'ei
The other sister's one child, a son, took me at my request across the city to see the Asbury Church, which I couldn't find in 1980. The old Methodist church has recently been painted, outside and in, and looks beautiful. It was Monday afternoon. A young woman taking the course toward ordination showed us around with enthusiasm. My guide asked her whether he could join their young people's activities. "Oh yes!" she said.
Former Asbury Church, Beijing
I wanted very much to go to Kalgan, but could only give the two days my tourist party would be in Beijing. It would take three or four days to make this trip. "Next time come alone, stay with us, and we will go together to Kalgan," said my hosts.
The second afternoon of the two days I went by taxi to a large farm, a 20 mile taxi ride from the hotel to call on theirmother, old Mrs. Yao Shu Te, 86, living with her son, Yao P'u. After dinner I took a picture of Mrs. Yao Shu Te. She didn't speak very much, but she said over and over, "Mrs. Soderbom (our senior lady missionary in the 20's and 30's) was a mother to me."
Yao P'u has one son. Before I left he asked me to do him a favor: To send or bring him some fertile American chicken eggs, large size. He copied from a book in Chinese and English the varieties he can use.
A major objective of our China tour -- we were Methodist ministers and laymen from the New York Area, led by Bishop and Mrs. Dale White -- was to see how the church is faring in China. Church leaders were optimistic. According to them (October 1987) there are now 4000 cghurches open in China and 10,000 meeting places (house churches). Tere are 300 newly ordained pastors, 50 of whom are women. 2,300,000 Bibles have been distributed. Ten new seminaries have been opened in addition to Nanking Seminary. 600 people are in the seminaries. There are 4,000,000 Protestant Christians -- a five-fold increase since 1949. Despite severe persecution in the late '60's and '70's, when all churches were closed and some people became martyrs, the Christians are now in favor in their communities, and the church is growing.
Thank God.
Indonesia
A big lei and the embraces of friends, especially from Wesley Church, greeeted me at the Medan Airport. The first Sunday I was invited to preach at Wesley Church and to take part in the dedication of their new social hall. When Bishop Gultom pulled the string to unveil the plaque, surprise! my name was on the stone! In this way our Wesley members were honoring all missionaries and the churches which sent them. The reception which followed was like a surprise party of old friends.
Most people of Sumatra are farmers, living on marginal land. Fred Ingold, among other things, is an agricultural missionary. Polly is a physical therapist, and gives demonstrations and lessons in this field at the Medan Methodist Hospital.
Fred and Polly took me to Bandar Maruhur, where a young preacher is in charge of our church farm. Here they try out different varieties of corn and other crops recommended by the government, choose those which do best, and distribute them to the farmers in the district. Also they bring in young farmers from villages in the area for short courses. The young farmers begin projects which they complete at home, and on which theybcome back to report. Recently Fred wrote a friend, ""We have visitors Kay and Gerald Johnson, who have a 1500 acre farm and raise 5000 pigs annually, with us to help our farmers improve their methods.
Another day we went to a new Methodist farm far down the new Trans-Sumatra highway at the village of (I think) Aek Nabara, where the land is just being opened up for farming. This time the church is there at the beginning of settlement. As the people move in, WE ARE THERE!
And we are other places. Fred's latter above continues, "I leave later today by plane with Gerald and two others for the transmigration areas of South Sumatra (Palembang) and Lampung (Tanjung Karang, now renamed Bandar Lampung) to help development programs fo assistance for people who have been moved off the heavily populated island of Java and ropped in jungles and wilderness with little on which to survive. Many are Muslim but are becoming Christian becuase they see the love of Christ offered in practical, visible ways."
One day we visited the new Methodist Seminary at Bandar Baru, 30 miles from Medan on the road to the mountain town of Berastagi. here Dale and Alice Walker teach and go to the villages weekends with the students. Here Bruce and Emilie Privatsky, newly arrived, are also teaching. W. L. and Faye Armstrong are here. Faye teches, and W. L. goes out into the country showing people how to make bricks and build their own churches. Bishop Gultom wrote in his 1986 Christmas letter, that since the people themselves do the work, $500 will build a small but permanent country church.
Another day we went to Tebing Tinggi, where one of our Bible School graduates, John Wesley Napitupulu, is in charge fo the printing press. They have just finished printing hymnals in the Toba Batak, The Karo Batak, and the Simalungan languages. In Medan Rev. Jonathan Napiun and a committe of nine are working hard to up[date the Indonesia Methodist Hymnal, which has been out of print for three years, and is urgently awaited.
The impression I received of the Methodiste Church of Indonesia is that of a band of 60,000 Christians, whose church was begun by our missionaries, who with our help are bringing the gospel to their peop[le, are gathering them into churches, and are seeking to make the spirit of Jesus relevant to all of life.
After two weeks in Sumatra I returned to Des Moines, Washington, got my car from friends who had kept it safely, and drove home.
From a letter dated March 1988 addressed to "dear friends everywhere."
- Login to edit this profile and add images.
- Private Messages: Send a private message to the Profile Manager. (Best when privacy is an issue.)
- Public Comments: Login to post. (Best for messages specifically directed to those editing this profile. Limit 20 per day.)