The American Missionary — Volume 33, No. 08, August, 1879Various
Religion
The American Missionary — Volume 33, No. 08, August, 1879
Various
Congregational churches -- Missions -- Periodicals; Home missions -- Periodicals
Of course the Gospel leaven working in this mass of heathenism
induces more or less of fermentation. Our Christian Chinese are
often engaged in discussions with their heathen friends. I took
brief notes of one such, as afterwards reported to me. I am glad
to say that the assailant of the truth in this dispute has since
been converted, and is now a member of my church. The heathen, who
had long been a pupil in Bethany School, and a close reader of the
New Testament, said to our brother, “Your Bible itself says we must
not put new wine into old bottles. China is an old bottle; new
wine will burst it.” The reply surprised me by its apt and correct
interpretation of the text referred to: “Not so. You cannot put the
new wine of Christ into the old bottles of Chinese teachings and
worship, it will burst them; but you can put it into Chinese hearts
and it will save them.” “But you say,” continued the objector,
“that a little water on the head washes sins away. I wash all over
three times a day, and not take my sins away.” “Not so,” replied
Hong Sing, “water cannot take sins away; but water means that God’s
Spirit poured upon our hearts, Christ’s blood sprinkled on our
souls, takes our sins away.” “But people come to the Lord’s Supper
and then go away, do wrong, gamble, smoke opium.” Neither admitting
nor denying this, Hong Sing told and interpreted with perfect
correctness the parable of the net cast into the sea. The last
objection was this: “You Christians say that you go to the Lord’s
table and drink his blood and eat his flesh. Would you eat your
mother’s flesh and drink her blood, if she were dead?” Hong Sing’s
reply will be easily surmised by my readers. I wish that I could
give word for word the broken English, and could reproduce on paper
the animation with which this conversation was related to me; but
the limits of my space forbid, even if otherwise it were possible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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