Congo life and folklore

by John H. Weeks

Then the missionary who had charge of the Church books wrote on a black-board the number of members in fellowship at the beginning of the year, the number of those who had been expelled for inconsistency, the number who had passed to the eternal home during the twelve months, the large number that had been baptized on profession of their faith in Christ, and it was shown that those who were enjoying all the privileges of Church membership made a grand total of 1674. Here and there over the building could be heard ejaculations of “Tutondele Mfumu Nzambi!” (“We thank Thee, Lord God!”)

The white man then put another black-board in position, and wrote on it all the offerings from the various districts, the amount of the July Harvest Thanksgiving, and sundry other items to the credit of the Church accounts--it reached some hundreds of thousands of brass rods. On another black-board he wrote down the cost of the teachers in the different districts, and when these were added up there was a large deficit. What were they to do--leave the Church in debt, or withdraw some of the teachers? No, they must wipe that debt off!

Another black-board was quickly in position to receive their offerings for clearing away the deficit. A white teacher present said: “I will give two thousand rods towards the debt.” But a native deacon arose to his feet and said: “White man, we thank you for your kind offer to help us; but this is our work for Jesus Christ, and we intend to do it by paying that debt ourselves. Christ has done so much for us, that we must do this little bit of work for Him.”

During the next hour the missionaries were very busy writing down gifts and promises; and gradually the debt shrank until at last it disappeared. They had contributed over £180 to meet the entire expenses of their local missionary work. It was a large sum for poor people; but it was an expression of their gratitude to God for all the benefits they had received through the preaching of the Gospel. If it had been possible to value all the voluntary work done by deacons and Church members, the above amount would have been more than doubled.

That night a missionary meeting was held. The building was full; bright and inspiring hymns were sung; and one teacher after another told of the difficulties and triumphs of the Gospel in his part of the district. Then two of the white men spoke of the grand results that had attended the efforts of other missionaries at the various stations on the Upper and Lower Congo. They summed up by saying: that thirty years ago there was not a single language that had been reduced to writing, now eight had been mastered, and into them more or less of God’s Word had been translated; thirty years ago and there was not a single person on the Congo who knew how to read or write, now there were thousands of men and women, boys and girls who were reading God’s Word in their own languages; thirty years ago there was not a single native teacher on the Congo, now there were nearly five hundred--two-thirds of whom were entirely supported by the free-will offerings of the native Christians, and the other third doing voluntary work in their own towns and villages; thirty years ago not a solitary brass rod was given to God’s work--but hundreds of thousands of them were spent on witch-doctors, fetishes and charms, now over £400 a year are given by native Christians that others might hear the glad news of Christ’s redemption; thirty years ago there was not a single Christian throughout the whole length and breadth of Congoland, now in fellowship with the B. M. S. Churches alone there are nearly 3500 Church members, and God Himself alone knows the great number that has already passed from the Church militant on earth, through faith in Christ, to the Church triumphant in heaven that is gathering around the great white throne of the Lamb. These are 3500 fulfilments of God’s promises; 3500 encouragements to continue the work with zeal and aggressiveness; 3500 proofs of the power of the Gospel to change the hearts, and purify the lives of men and women.

It was about eleven o’clock next morning when that bell called the Christians and their friends to the last great meeting of the festival. The building in which the service was held was long, wide and rather squatty, with no claim to beauty or dignity, and no pretensions to architectural elegance; and although in the eyes of men it might honestly be styled ugly, yet in the eyes of angels it must be very beautiful--for it is the birthplace of many a soul.

It was all too small that day to hold the crowd that pressed into it. The seats soon filled, and the mats that had been spread on every available space quickly received more than their full quota of people, and the doors and windows rapidly filled with folk who listened as eagerly as those who were inside the building. How heartily they all entered into the simple service!

The preacher knew their difficulties, their temptations and their weaknesses; he knew the pit of heathenism from which they had been digged; and he knew that they were going back to their towns, villages and homes to live among superstitious heathen neighbours, so he preached to them with the power born of full and deep conviction from 2 Tim. i. 12; and they by and by returned home strengthened to continue the fight knowing that God was with them, and, therefore, they were on the winning side.

The preaching service over, the non-members left the building, and their places were immediately filled with those Church members who had been standing round the doors and windows. Over seven hundred persons were present to take the communion.

The eyes of the white man who officiated dimmed with tears as he looked over that crowded assembly of communicants. He thought of those who had borne the heat and burden of the day, those who had toiled and died without knowing of any results to their labour; he thought of those who, baffled and defeated by broken health, had been compelled to retire from the dangerous climate; he thought of those native teachers who had lived faithfully and worked arduously to bring about this grand gathering; and he thought also of that vast number of friends in the homeland who by their labours, gifts and prayers had made this glorious assembly possible. Surely all would ultimately rejoice together in the great, glad cry of Harvest Home! Perhaps--who can tell?--the spirits of those who have passed away, missionaries and supporters--white and black workers alike, were, some of them, present at that service and were rejoicing together over so numerous a company of ransomed souls.