Tribal warfare among my people for centuries has claimed the lives of our young men. Head-hunting has been our way of life . . . our defense, our measure of status, and our constant terror. A man’s most important possession has been a long sharp knife. With it he cuts his fuel for fire, he clears the jungle hillside, he harvests his crop, and he kills his enemies. The young evangelist who brought salvation to my village carried no knife. Instead, he carried a book, a Japanese New Testament. “This book is the sword of God’s Spirit,” he told us, “with which He will drive evil spirits from your villages and evil deeds from your lives.” The evangelist also carried scars. Some we recognized as his original tribal tatoos. The others he called “the marks of the Lord Jesus in his body.” He had been caught by the Japanese authorities, subjected to inhuman tortures, imprisoned, and many times beaten into un- consciousness. All this he told us quietly. Then his face broke into a glowing smile and he began to talk about the love of Jesus. Jim and Lillian Dickson were the first white people to invite us into the family of God. Since the Chinese recovery of Formosa, many of the long-legged mission aries with their glass eyes and black books have lived among us. Now we have bamboo or stone churches. We have a written language into which the Bible soon will be translated. Medical clinics moving from village to village bring hope and healing to our people. Often American Christians are with us, sharing our mountain scenery, our sweet potatoes, and our happy songs. But there are other Americans who are not in the Family. They look like the missionaries. They speak the same language, yet they do not belong to Christ. These teachers of heresy and apostles of cults are playing havoc with the flock of God, and luring many strays into false folds. Those of us who belong to the true Family are still babies. Our tribal preachers do not know a great deal about the Bible. The number of true missionaries living among us can be counted on your two hands . . . not nearly enough to guide my people . . . for we have three hundred churches. No wonder so many of my people are being led astray.
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The wife of a tribal pastor. I myself was warned of this danger by Orient Cru sades missionary, Weldon Culver. Mr. Culver’s work is training pastors and traveling evangelists. When he came to our brand-new bamboo-and-thatch church, he did not ask to preach the Sunday morning sermon. He asked the pastor if he and his people had carried the Gospel to every family in the village. There were eleven families, Pastor Chen said, that had never received the message of salvation. Mr. Culver, Pastor Chen, and I visited one home. There I heard the Gospel presented simply and force fully. When we left the home, we talked over the fam ily’s response and prayed together. “Pastor Chen,” suggested Mr. Culver, “if you will take another of the Christian men with you and call on the Eo family, I will go with Liu to visit the Saos. We can meet for prayer and hot tea this afternoon.” What a thrill that week was for me! With Mr. Cul ver we shared the work of evangelism, not only in our own village but also all across the mountain ridge. In the evenings we gathered for Bible study and prayer. Quietly the missionary fed us with the truths of God’s Word, deepening our faith and broadening our knowledge of the Bible. I and my people learned that it is the duty of every Christian to witness. We learned the life-giving power of the Gospel. And we came to understand the strength of the bonds between kinsmen in the family of God. Christians who know God and who study His Word are needed to open the Bible to us. Christians who follow Jesus in humility, holiness, and compassion are needed to show His love to my needy and sin-weary people. This is the call of all truly Gospel missionary groups as well as our own. We recognize missionaries like these, and the Ameri can Christians who send them, as our kinsmen. You are my Kinsman!
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Viet Nam tribes woman — a spirit worshipper.
FEBRUARY, 1962
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