ONE SUNDAY AFTERNOON one of our Sixth Form boys came to our little Gospel Chorus service. He listened earnestly, and seemed to enjoy taking part. I do not recall the subject, but at the close, speaking to the younger ones there, it was said: "Is there not someone here who would like to know for certain that all his sins are forgiven; all gone in God's sight?" Instantly Geoffrey, the Sixth Form boy, replied: "I would give anything I possess for that knowledge. It is what I want more than anything else." The children scattered, and I showed Geoffrey that lovely verse in John 6:4747Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life. (John 6:47): "Verily, verily I say unto you, he that believeth on Me hath everlasting life." He drank it in like a thirsty soul. There is something so superbly grand in the simplicity of this verse, that one can never weary of it. It was, perhaps six weeks later that, meeting Geoffrey in the grounds alone, I said to him: "How is it, Geoffrey. Do you know that you have your sins forgiven, that you have eternal life?”
“Yes," Geoffrey replied, "I know it now."
"How do you know, Geoffrey?”
“You remember the verse you showed me? 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on Me hath everlasting life'. I do believe on the Lord Jesus, so He says that I have everlasting life.”
It was a peculiar joy to see this dear lad find the Lord. I had been teaching him for some time; and had learned to know him well. He was quiet, gentle, always well-behaved, and always acted as a gentleman: yet there was something wistful about him, that made one's heart ache. Now he had found what he was seeking: rather should I say, now had he found Whom he was seeking. He lived with his parents and older brother in almost the next room to us, separated from us by a stairs and hallway. His parents became real friends, but his father had been stricken by some disease that had left him only able to hobble about with the use of a cane.
This incident increased a great longing I had had for some time to gather some of these older boys for a Bible class. It was the more difficult as there already were two very popular Bible classes for boys being held by two of the most gifted of the modernist missionaries in Camp; and it was most desirable to avoid anything that might appear to be rivalry. At the same time, one could not but long that the glorious truths of salvation might be clearly and simply put before these dear lads.
But now that Geoffrey had definitely taken a stand for the Lord, with Gordon S. and Raymond, it gave us a little nucleus for a class, and two or three others often came. It was very difficult to find a corner where it could be held, for as you will realize, there was no sympathy with such an undertaking. However, the librarian kindly offered us the use of the library on Sunday afternoons; and we had some very happy times together.
Quite a few months after that day when Geoffrey had come to the Gospel Choruses, we were sitting in our room one evening, about half-past-six, having supper, when we heard an unusual commotion on the stairs that led directly to the front door of our building. I looked out of the window, and saw a stretcher being carried out, on the way to the hospital. It was no uncommon sight, and after supper I inquired who had been taken sick. I was told it was Geoffrey, but this did not surprise me, as I knew he was not strong. That night, about midnight, or a little earlier, I was wakened by footsteps up and down the stairs. Next morning we heard that at about eleven o'clock that night Geoffrey had gone "Home!" How unspeakably thankful I was to know that for him it was "Home!" It was not many days later that his mother came to ask, "What was it that Geoffrey got that had given him such peace the last few months of his life?" I had the joy of pointing her to the same precious Savior, and to His glorious word: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on Me hath everlasting life." It was peculiarly sad for these parents, as the war was now over, and "Home, Sweet Home", was in sight once more, when their boy was called to a better Home, where there is no more death, neither sorrow nor crying. A few weeks later, as we parted in Shanghai, the mother whispered to me: "Will you make me a text with Geoffrey's words on it?”
For a time we had other listeners at the Gospel Choruses. We had one or two guards who were, I believe, real Christians. They loved to come and listen to the singing, and though they could not understand the words, they recognized the tunes, and would take up the words in their own tongue. This was not long tolerated by the authorities, but they still would sometimes linger at a distance as they made their rounds, enjoying the words that brought such joy and comfort to them as well as to us. One of these men was intensely fond of singing, and when his duties were over, he used to go up to the old city wall, that towered above our wall, about a hundred feet away. There he would walk up and down and sing to his heart's content. We used to hear hymn after hymn, sung as loud as ever he could. I think it cheered him up, and I am sure that it cheered up some of us. I think he was really a Korean. Some of the guards were quite ready to be friendly, but it was strictly against the rules to talk with them.
We were not the only ones who grieved over the condition of the camp spiritually. One friend, Mr. S., who had at one time been much used in preaching the Gospel, felt very keenly the lack of a clear Gospel message. Towards the end of our internment he went to the Church Committee and begged that an opportunity might be given once a month for a simple Gospel address. When first we came into Camp, on a Sunday evening some of the Christians had come together around the little organ in the dining room, and had sung some of the old familiar hymns. A good many, hearing the singing, had come in and joined in it; and the numbers each week were increasing. One old Jew who had been coming, remarked as the singing finished, "That does one good!" Soon, however, it was taken over officially; and it was not long before it grew cold and dead. Instead of the old hymns that everybody knew, less familiar ones were substituted, and the attendance quickly dropped off, until it was decided it was not worth while carrying on.
After that, discussions were arranged for Sunday evening; a speaker and a chairman were selected, and then the meeting was thrown open for discussion. The subjects were always selected by the modernist group in the camp, and the meetings were under their control.
When Mr. S. pressed for a simple Gospel preaching once a month, rather grudgingly the Church Committee agreed to allow one Sunday evening a month instead of the discussion. Mr. S., although a true and earnest Christian, had never thrown in his lot with those of us who had openly taken a stand against modernism and unbelief. He told me that he had met little of it, and knew little about it. So, with the hope of keeping in favor with those controlling religious affairs, he invited four of them to take part in the service, by singing a quartette. The meeting was quite well attended, and a simple, earnest, touching appeal went forth. Never again was such a meeting allowed in the Camp.
Towards the end of our internment it was announced on the Church Notice Board that the following Sunday the discussion would be on the subject: "Is there a Hell?" I knew the speaker well, and one of the doctors who took a prominent part in the discussions, was chairman. I knew very well what to expect, and though we had avoided going to these meetings, it seemed best to attend this one. The speaker denied eternal punishment, though he admitted there probably was some sort of temporary punishment. He also took the opportunity to deny the possibility of having the certainty of eternal life, and made what appeared to me to be slighting remarks on the Old Testament. The meeting was then thrown open for discussion, and as nobody raised a voice of protest, I sought to refute something of what had been said. It was not long before the chairman asked me to sit down and give somebody else an opportunity to speak. No one else had anything to say, so the chairman himself gave us quite a long dissertation, backing up what the speaker had said, and the meeting closed.
This appeared to give an opportunity, and I wrote a note to the Church Committee pointing out the fact that although their side of these subjects had been presented in Camp time and again, on the one occasion when for even a few moments I had tried to present the other side, there had not been even the ordinary courtesy shown to allow me to speak. Under the circumstances, it seemed the least they could do would be to permit me to present the other side on the next Sunday evening. I had a letter granting this request, but stating the address must not exceed half-an-hour. This was quite satisfactory. They selected as chairman one who was entirely in sympathy with their own views. My watch was broken, so I borrowed my sister's so as to keep accurate record of my time. I sought to point out that the One who told us of hell, and of the state of the wicked after death, was the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. I read some of these passages, including the solemn account of the rich man and Lazarus, and pointed out that our Lord said: "There was a certain rich man..."; there was no suggestion that this was a parable. But if anyone insisted that it was a parable, then the only alternative was this: that the reality was so terrible that no human words could begin to paint the picture, and so it had to be told out in parable, by what we could understand. It made a very solemn subject, and the interest was intense. When twenty minutes had gone by, the chairman stopped me. I suppose he felt he did not wish to hear any more. There was a certain amount of discussion, but not one could refute anything that had been said,-the chairman of the previous week merely insisting that "Eternal Punishment is not reasonable." One could scarcely imagine a more feeble foundation on which to base one's hope for eternity. The Lord alone is the One who knows the conditions after death. He has told these to us with the utmost clearness. What folly to refuse to believe His testimony, because to our feeble, finite minds we do not consider His Words "reasonable". His own Word says: "What He hath seen and heard, that He testifieth; and no man receiveth His testimony. He that hath received His testimony hath set to his seal that God is true" (John 3:32, 3332And what he hath seen and heard, that he testifieth; and no man receiveth his testimony. 33He that hath received his testimony hath set to his seal that God is true. (John 3:32‑33)). It is the more remarkable that in Rev. 4:11After this I looked, and, behold, a door was opened in heaven: and the first voice which I heard was as it were of a trumpet talking with me; which said, Come up hither, and I will show thee things which must be hereafter. (Revelation 4:1), we read, "I will show thee things which must be hereafter," and the Greek word used for "must" carries with it the idea of "logical necessity". What follows in Revelation is almost entirely judgments, including the Great White Throne and the lake of fire, and torment forever and ever; and all are "a logical necessity". It is well for men and women today to remember that utterly regardless of their opinions, the Word of God tells us with the greatest clearness that there is a hell, there is a lake of fire, and whosoever was not found written in the Book of Life was cast into it. The torment is forever and ever. The same words in Greek are used for "everlasting punishment" and for "Life eternal" (Matt. 25:4646And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal. (Matthew 25:46)). The one lasts as long as the other, and each is for eternity. Not only is Eternal Punishment "reasonable", but it is "a logical necessity". Thank God, He has provided a way of escape at the cost of His own Son.
As we came out of the hall, "Father James" remarked to a friend: "That's just what I believe. I wonder where he learned it. A Roman Catholic could not have put the matter more clearly.”
“Is God for me, I fear not,
Though all against me rise;
When I call on Christ my Savior,
The host of evil flies.
My Friend, the Lord Almighty!
And He Who loves me, God!
What enemy shall harm me,
Though coming like a flood?
“There is no condemnation,
There is no hell for me,
The torment and the fire
Mine eyes shall never see.
For me there is no judgment,
For me, Death has no sting,
Because the Lord Who loves me
Shall shield me with His wing.”
—Paul Gerhardt.