Woman and Her Saviour in Persia / By a Returned Missionary

by Thomas Laurie

SUBSEQUENT REVIVALS

DEACON JOHN STUDYING BACKSLIDING IN 1849—WORK IN VILLAGE OF SEIR—WIVES OF SIYAD AND YONAN—KHANUMJAN—WOMEN AT THE SEMINARY—GEOG TAPA—DEGALA—A PENITENT—SIN OF ANGER—REVIVAL IN 1856—MISS FISKE ENCOURAGED—STILLNESS AND DEEP FEELING—UNABLE TO SING—CONVERSION OF MISSIONARY CHILDREN—VISIT OF ENGLISH AMBASSADOR—REVIVAL OF 1857—LETTER OF SANUM

The first indication of a work of grace in 1849 was seen in the unusual seriousness of Deacon John. He had been reading Pike's Guide to Young Disciples, and the chapter on backsliding moved him deeply. For a long time, he went mourning his departure from God. One day he was reading aloud in the Seminary, when a missionary came in, and wondering to see him there, asked what he was doing. He replied, "I am studying backsliding; and O, sir, I love it very much;" meaning to say that he loved to study the way back to the enjoyment of God. This state of mind was followed by earnest effort for the salvation of others, and the hopefully pious first passed through a season of deep heart-searching and renewed consecration to God. Under an awful sense of the violation of covenant vows, for many days some of them did nothing but weep and pray. "How unfaithful have I been to my Saviour and to immortal souls!" was the cry on all sides. One whose Bible was found blotted with tears, had been converted in 1846, and her grief was on account of her unfaithfulness as a follower of Christ. Having thus wept bitterly herself, she was well fitted to lead others to the God of all comfort. Her labors were unwearied, both in and out of school. Indeed, the mission was now so reduced in numbers, that much of the work in this revival was performed by the Nestorians, and they proved themselves very efficient. Naturally ardent, they preached Christ and him crucified with a zeal and faithfulness rarely witnessed in our own land; but their ardor needed careful guiding, for some were, at one time, entirely prostrated by excessive labor.

The pupils of the Seminary, during a short vacation, seemed like angels of mercy to their families and friends. In Geog Tapa, their meetings for women every evening had an attendance varying from thirty to one hundred. Many of these were glad to learn the way of salvation, even from children. Besides this, the older pupils, under the guidance of an experienced native helper, spent much time in personal conversation and prayer with their own sex, as did the members of the other Seminary with the men.

In the village of Seir, the work was very general. In addition to the labors of the pious students in the Male Seminary there, Sanum and Moressa labored from house to house among the women. But hear their own account of what they did, in a letter to Miss Lovell's school at Constantinople;—

"What shall we tell you, beloved, of the great love God has shown to our school and people? For two months we have had such delightful days as we never saw in our lives before. The work of the Lord has also commenced in the villages, and in many there is great inquiry for the way of life. The servants of God are so full of zealous love, that they preach till their strength and voice give way. But again they go on to preach, for the harvest is great, and the laborers few. How should we, with burning hearts, beg the Lord of the harvest to send forth laborers! Can we bear, dear sisters, to see the deadly wings of Satan's kingdom spread out and destroy those bought by the precious blood of Christ? Ought we not rather to wrestle like Jacob till we see the loving wings of the kingdom of the Saviour spread out, and impart life to wounded souls on every side? We hope that your waiting eyes may see greater wonders among your own people than we do here.

"Now we will tell you about the little village of Seir, which contains nineteen houses. God has visited every house; and because the women were much awakened, and had no teacher, the missionaries sent two of us there, not because we were fit for such a work,—for we are deficient in Godly knowledge, and every qualification,—but because God sometimes chooses the ignorant and weak to do him service. And what shall we tell you of the wonders God showed us among those poor women? There was no time in which they did not cry, with tears, 'What shall we do?' 'Woe unto us!' 'We are lost!' When we asked them to pray in meetings, they prayed as if taught of God. We wondered at them very much. In one house, we found a woman beating her head with both hands, crying, 'O my sins! They are so great! There is no pardon!' We tried to reason with her; but if we took her hands from her head, she beat her breast. She said, 'You told me, when you prayed with me the other day, to go to Christ; but he will not receive me, I am such a sinner.' With difficulty we quieted her, and told of the great mercy of the Son of David. We prayed with each woman of the village alone, and they with us, fervently and in tears.

"In one instance, we heard an old man praying earnestly in the stable, and his wife in the house. We waited till they had finished, before we went in, and there we found an old man, perhaps ninety years old, and his wife, also very aged. We spoke with them of the lowly Redeemer, and how he was ready to dwell with them, poor as they were. The tears rolled down their wrinkled faces, and made our own hearts burn within us. The old man prayed with us as if Christ stood right before him, and we prayed with them both.

"There were meetings several times a day, and when they closed, the voice of prayer might be heard on all sides, in the houses and stables. Every family now has morning and evening worship."

In this revival, the native helpers were very much interested for the salvation of their unconverted wives. The families of Siyad and Yonan live in Geog Tapa, and their first visits home were blessed to the conviction of their companions, who soon came to the school, begging to be allowed to stay and learn the way of life. Of course, they were not refused. The wife of Siyad had been a frequent visitor there, but such an opposer of religion, that her coming was always dreaded; but now how changed! Day by day her convictions deepened, till they were overwhelming. Tears were her meat, and prayer her employment, day and night, till, as she said, "The Saviour found her," and she was at rest. Three children and a daughter-in-law joined her in believing, and it was delightful to see the family, not long after, each in his or her turn, calling on the name of the Lord in one of the rooms of the Seminary.

Yonan, the junior teacher of the school, had been married by force two years before, by his wicked father; that, too, when his heart was fixed on another, every way fitted to be his companion. It was a severe trial; but grace triumphed, and his great desire, seemed to be the conversion of the wife thus forced upon him. At midnight, he was often heard interceding for her, and, in the early part of the revival, the answer came. Miss Fiske will never forget the time when, in an adjoining room, she heard her for the first time praying with her husband. It gave her a new insight into the meaning of that scripture, "They believed not for joy." The new convert was very active among the women in her village; and when her father-in-law forbade social prayer in his house, she took her little company at sunset behind the village church, where even the bleak winds of February did not chill their devotions.

Khanumjan, the aged mother of John, though past threescore and ten, entered into the work with a zeal that might put to shame many younger women in our own land. She toiled to bring the more aged women right to the cross, taking them one by one into her own closet, that then and there they might accept the Saviour. Though herself unable to read, she did much for the preachers who went out to the villages, providing food for them on their return, and exhorting them to courage and faithfulness. No wonder she said to a visitor, "Three years ago, I saw Christ in heaven, and I have seen him there ever since; but now he sits by my side all day long." When she died, she said, over and over again, "I am going after Jesus."

In this revival, the encouragement to labor for woman was greater than ever before. After the middle of January, the Seminary was almost constantly thronged with inquirers. Day and night, it was consecrated by the prayers and tears of women seeking their Saviour. On Friday, and on the Sabbath, many from the neighboring villages spent the time there between services. The room was filled with them; and even while they ate, they must have some one speaking to them of Jesus. Those who did so, often spoke with such tenderness as showed that Christ himself was very near. Sometimes the women could not eat any thing but the bread of life. At times, the anguish of some for sin was so overpowering, that the question, "Can a woman forget her sucking child?" might almost have been answered in the affirmative. In some instances, the scenes that took place were too much for frail nature to bear, and the laborers were ready to ask to be clothed upon with immortality while the Lord passed by. Those who spent the night in the Seminary slept in the large room on the lower floor, between the central door and that on the left, in the engraving; and occasionally the sound of their weeping and praying banished sleep from the rooms above them. Yet such hinderance to rest brought a refreshment all its own.

In Geog Tapa, the village ruler was found sitting at the feet of Jesus, and going with the preachers from place to place, to give greater weight to their words; and twenty-five young men, though they could not read, yet did what they could with untiring zeal.

There was an interesting work in Degala, so noted for vice that it was called the Sodom of the Nestorians. The first converted there was a young man employed in the Seminary. He passed through a severe mental conflict before his proud heart yielded; but when it did, he became a living sacrifice to God. One day he came to the teachers, saying, "I have a petition to make; will you receive it?" Supposing it to be some pecuniary matter, they replied, "Tell us what it is." He at once burst into tears, and covering his face with his garment, said, "My village is lost; my family is perishing, and their blood is on my neck; let me go to-night and beg forgiveness for my wicked example, and urge them to flee from the wrath to come." He obtained his request, and left, sobbing aloud. Next morning, he brought his wife and two other women to be instructed. About a week after, Deacon Tamo found in the village several inquirers, and one woman in agony on account of her sins. She had been notorious for wickedness, and so vile as hardly to find one who would associate with her, though now one of the most lovely Christians in any land. The next day, she came to the Seminary, and as soon as Miss Fiske sat down beside her, she threw herself into her lap, crying, "Do tell me what to do, or where to go, to get rid of my sins." She was pointed to the Lamb of God, and one moment her feet seemed to rest on the Rock of Ages, and the next a fresh wave of conviction swept her into the raging sea. So she vibrated between life and death. She was asked to pray. In all her life she had not probably heard ten prayers; but her strong crying and tears showed that the Holy Spirit was her teacher, and the helper of her infirmities. She had learned to pray where her Saviour found a cradle—in the manger—cast out and derided by her friends.

She was first awakened in the Seminary; for one day, as soon as she entered the door, a pupil, then under deep conviction herself, and to whom she was an entire stranger, seized her hand, saying, "My sister, my sister, what are you doing? We are all lost. We must repent, or perish." These words she could not forget, and from that hour sought until she found her Saviour, and then bore ill treatment with such meekness as won others also to Christ.

The desire of the converts for instruction was most affecting. One of them wept bitterly when asked if she was willing to forsake every sin, saying, "What shall I do? I have one sin so strong that I fear I cannot leave it off." "What is it?" "I cannot live without these words of God. My husband will not let me go to hear them, and anger sometimes rises in my heart at this. Tell me what to do with this sin."

An account of the revival in 1850 will be given in the chapter on the prayerfulness of the Nestorians. After this were instances of conversion each year, but not so marked, or so general, as in 1849. So we pass over the intervening time to dwell a moment on the revival of 1856. That year, the pupils were very studious, and kind in their feelings towards each other and their teachers; but the winter was nearly over before any additions were made to the now diminished number of believers. The teachers mourned; still the heavens were brass, and the earth iron. Christians were lukewarm, and none seemed to have power with God.

Miss Fiske returned from the English prayer meeting Sabbath evening, February 18th, in that desponding state that sometimes follows intense and protracted desire, when its object is not attained. At such times, the sensibilities seem paralyzed, and emotion dies of sheer exhaustion. The pupils had retired; so also had Miss Rice; and she was left alone. Her thoughts brooded over the state of her charge, but she had no strength to rise and carry those precious souls to Christ. She could not sleep, and yet so shrunk from the duties of the morrow, that she longed for a lengthening out of the night, rather than the approach of dawn. Eleven o'clock struck, and there was a knock at the door. Could she open it? Must she see another face that night? She did open it, and there stood one of her pupils, not so without feeling as her fainting heart had imagined. Struck by the languor of her teacher's looks, she inquired tenderly, "Are you very tired?" "No, not very; why do you ask?" "I cannot sleep; our school has been resting on me all day, and I thought perhaps you would help me to pray." The spell was broken; the dry fountain of feeling gushed out afresh, and, with a full heart, she said, "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord." As an angel from heaven, that dear pupil strengthened her teacher that night, and together they carried the whole household to Jesus. When at length she retired, all was sweetly left with Christ, and he whispered peace. She could sleep now, and when morning came there was still peace. "Could ye not watch with me one hour?" was the word spoken to her as she arose; and hardly had she repeated it at morning prayers, before three, in different parts of the room, were weeping. She said little, for she felt it safer to go and tell Jesus their wants and their unworthiness. All day, the feeling in the school was subdued and tender. No one asked, "What shall I do to be saved?" but there was quiet at the table, and quiet in the rooms. The work was done willingly and well, but in silence, and the voice of prayer in the closets was gentle. Tuesday passed in almost perfect stillness. No one said even, "Pray for me." Towards evening, Miss Fiske said, "If there is one who wants first of all to attend to her eternal interests, I would like to see her at half past eight o'clock." At that hour, her door opened, and one entered alone; then another and another, each alone, till the room was full. She closed the door, but still they came. What were her feelings when she looked round on twenty-three, sitting with their heads bowed down in silence? She said little, for she felt that they wanted to hear God, rather than man, and the parable of the prodigal son that evening seemed to come fresh from the lips of Jesus.

Next day, each lesson was recited in its season, and recited well; but tears blurred many a page, and at recess not a few went to be alone with God. At eleven o'clock, Mr. Perkins came in as usual to sing with them, "Bartimeus" was the first hymn. All began it; but some voices faltered on the first stanza, more on the second, and soon the leader's voice was heard alone. He took up the Bible lying on the desk, and saying, "Perhaps some wanderer would like now to arise and go to her heavenly Father," he too read the portion of the night before, and led in prayer. The teachers had to lengthen the intermission at noon, because they could not bear to summon the pupils so early from their closets.

The mission met that afternoon in the Seminary. Mr. Stoddard came down from Seir covered with snow, saying, in his pleasant way, as he opened the door, "We have snowed down this time;" but when he learned the state of things, he said, very tenderly, "You must have thought my speech untimely; I did not know God was so near; but my heart is with you, and I hope we both shall have a large blessing." That meeting was almost all prayer, and the weeks that followed it witnessed a work silent but deep. It was characterized by humble contrition, and much simple dependence on Christ. Most of those twenty-three, before the close of the term, were hoping in his mercy.

Three missionary children were among the converts in this revival, and their conversion did much good to the Nestorians; for, though they had felt their own need of regeneration, they were in doubt about the children of pious parents; but when they saw the children of missionaries weep over sin, and come as lost sinners to the Saviour, they understood as never before that the entrance into the kingdom was the same for all.

At this time, the English ambassador passed through Oroomiah; and though, when he and his suite visited the Seminary, there was some apprehension felt as to the effect it might have on the religious interests of the pupils, they not only did themselves credit, in the examination he made of the school, but returned from the interview with their relish for spiritual things undiminished. Indeed, the event, which ordinarily would have been more than a nine days' wonder, caused scarce a ripple on the deep current of spiritual emotion.

The Seminary was again blessed in 1857, and the year following Miss Fiske returned from Seir after the funeral of Harriet Stoddard to welcome several who had entered the fold of the good Shepherd during her absence.

The labors of Miss Rice, who had charge of the school (while she was away,) have also been blessed in each of the four succeeding years. During that time, eighteen of the pupils have been received to the communion. The revival in the winter of 1861-62 was, however, more interesting and extensive.

At one meeting in the Male Seminary, the young men burst into tears while singing the hymn, "Alas, and did my Saviour bleed?" and soon after, in the Saturday evening meeting, Miss Rice's whole school were bowed in earnest prayer, and did not move for some time when requested by her to retire for private devotion. On this occasion, Mr. Cobb writes, "It was my privilege to speak a word to them, and I can truly say that I never saw such a scene before, as, with heads bowed down on their desks, unable wholly to repress their sobs, they listened, and again engaged in prayer." Even then, it was only after repeated requests that they went to their own rooms, where many continued their supplications far into the night.

The interesting scenes of these awakenings are thus gratefully recalled by Sanum, a convert of the first revival, in a letter dated Salmas, June 6th, 1859:—

Beloved Teacher, Miss Fiske: I received your priceless letter with many tears of joy, and when I read your loving, motherly counsels, my heart was full; it was drawn to you with inexpressible love; and when you reminded me of those blessed revivals, my eyes were darkened with floods of tears, so that, for a time, I could not read. How can I ever forget the first night that you met me, after the Lord had touched my heart, in that blessed room? or how many times you took me by the hand, and led me to the throne of grace? Often I was in the dark, and the Lord, through you, was pleased to give me rest. Can I ever forget, when the hand of the Lord rested on me in the death of my dear children,[1] how many times you came as an angel of peace to wipe away my tears? Shall I ever forget the Lord's coming among us by the still rain of the Holy Spirit? or those meetings of the sisters for prayer? or those tearful pleadings in the closets? Can I ever forget the fervent supplications and preaching of blessed Mr. Stocking, and how he begged us to flee from the wrath to come? If I forget these, let my right hand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. [Footnote 1: Page 185]

It is a year, my beloved, since I have been able to go to Oroomiah. I have sorrowed greatly to be cut off so long from the supper of our Lord, and them that meet around his table. Perhaps it is because I am not worthy of the blessing. The Lord mercifully grant that I be not cut off from the heavenly supper of the Lamb.

Our work here is much as before. I grieve to say that there are few with whom I can pray, and in the few cases where I can do so, it must be done as by stealth. But there are those with whom I can talk. Hoimer and I have a meeting for the women every Sabbath, and on other days. Every Tuesday, Hoimer, Raheel, and I have a little meeting together, and it is very pleasant, but will be more so when the Lord shall increase our number. O that we longing ones might see that day, and our troubled hearts rejoice!

During the nineteen years since the Seminary was established, it has enjoyed, in all, twelve revivals; and though it is not desirable to count up the results of human labors, it is due to the praise of divine grace to record, that out of those who have been connected with it, as many as two thirds have, in the judgment of charity, been created anew in Christ Jesus.