Tuesday, April 05, 2005

 

AOTGA - Act 19

Sailors, soldiers, priests, nuns, and students of all sizes, colors and shapes were calling for appointments. They were either searching for a deepening of their relationship with God, needed aid in some area of their lives, or some friend or relative had sent them. As if this wasn't enough, we frequently manufactured our own chaos. As we were walking through the Prince's Building one day, I noticed the back of a sailor's head as he was eating lunch. I remarked, "I'd like to ask him to dinner." Why this one? Hong Kong was full of American sailors and this one was already eating!

"Are you serious?"

"If he'll come."

"Is this from God?"

"I don't know."

Afraid of missing out in case it was, but also afraid the fellow might misinterpret the invitation, Rick went over, introduced himself, and said, "My wife and I would like you to join us for a home-cooked meal tonight, if you're free."

At dinner we exhausted most of the subjects of conversation. Afterward, the sailor asked, "What are you doing in Hong Kong?" Rick told him it was a long story. The young man checked his watch and said, "I have until 7:00 AM tomorrow morning. Let's hear it."

Richard related the dream and subsequent happenings. At the end the boy confessed faith in Jesus Christ and said, "God sent you to me."

They walked down the hill to find a taxi and the fellow confided he had been in the Prince's Building to call his fiancee. She was wearing his engagement ring, and they were to be married next month. He hadn't heard from her for several months, and this was the first opportunity there had been for him to leave ship. He placed the trans-Pacific call only to discover it was all over between them and she had left leaving no forwarding address. He was desolate. We don't know what would have happened if he had not met God that night. As he fervently wrung Rick's hand he vowed, "I'll never forget you. Meeting you has changed my life."

Another time I had an urge to call Mr Sung and invite him to luncheon. He said he was meeting a US Naval lieutenant for lunch and invited us to join them. I suggested they both come.

After lunch we talked all afternoon. The lieutenant invited us to dinner on the ship. The evening culminated with two more Naval officers receiving the baptism in the Spirit -- one a Baptist and one an Episcopalian.

Jim Sutherland, the Episcopalian, sent his cousin from Viet Nam to see us. The telephone rang and a youthful American voice stated she was with the USO and was Jim's cousin. One of our prayer groups met that night but I didn't know if Jim had told her anything or if this was simply a social call. "We'd like you to come for dinner but I don't know what evening is convenient for you. Tonight a prayer group meets here. Has Jim told you anything about it?"

"No."

"Would you like to come?"

"That might be nice."

"We'll have an early dinner. Come at six o'clock."

Promptly at six o'clock the doorbell rang. The table was set and dinner was ready, as the meeting started at eight o'clock.

I opened the door and standing on the threshold was a very large, dark complexioned woman with bright orange hair. I had been expecting a sweet young thing looking like "the girl next door." I gaped like a moron. The woman said, "Jean?"

"Yes."

"I'm O. May I come in?"

That didn't make sense to me but I stood aside. She swept in regally with packages and boxes trailing in her wake.

She looked disappointedly around the room. "I thought you had a meeting tonight."

"We do, but it isn't until eight o'clock."

"I came early so I wouldn't be late. Is it all right if I wait?"

And she ensconced herself on the sofa after pressing the boxes and packages upon me; they turned out to be presents.

The doorbell rang. It was the cute USO type. We had pork chops for dinner. Have you ever tried to stretch a chop?

The upshop of the evening was that I found something in a can, surrounded the platter with sliced tomatoes, and the family avoided the pork as though they had suddenly become Orthodox Jews. Both women were Catholic, but O (yes, that was her name) practiced a serious and personal Christianity while Barbara didn't believe anything at all. O was a nervous wreck all through dinner. She had asked the LaSalle Brothers where to receive the gift of the Spirit and they had given her our address. She had come hundreds of miles, and she was uptight, fearing she would not receive. Barbara didn't have a clue what was going on. I told O she didn't have to wait until the meeting because Rick could pray with her now. That left me to talk to Barbara. After Barbara heard about Jim and the works God was performing, she believed and was baptized with the Spirit.

Things hadn't gone so well with Richard. O wouldn't speak out and so did not receive anything. I went in Suzy's room to talk with her, and Rick came out and to talk to Barbara. Nothing I said was any use whatsoever. What we didn't know was that O was frightened. There was a print on the wall in Suzy's room of a slant-eyed cat with flowers. O comes from a country where superstition runs high, and the cat's eyes upset her. She became afraid that the whole thing might not be from God and might even be evil. Of course she was too polite to mention her thoughts. The door bell rang to announce Sister Jane's arrival. I ushered her in to pray with O. Since they were both Catholic I thought this would help. Nothing. Finally I said, "Just begin to worship Christ in the language He wants to give you. I'll pray in my language also so you won't feel shy." I began to pray in tongues and O screamed, "You're speaking my language! It's God talking to me!" and she began to speak to God in a heavenly language. I later discovered I had been adoring God in perfect Spanish -- and I can't even say "Adios" with a proper accent.

We met a lot of different types of people. There was the pious-looking missionary's daughter who burst into tears after hearing a message in tongues with interpretation, and confessed she had been committing adultery with someone else's husband for over a year.

There was the Catholic sailor who quietly, and with deep emotion, spoke in tongues for the first time and two nuns from a French order who understood it. They knew he didn't know a word of French, and they could hardly wait to be prayed for to receive the gift.

There was the surprising incident when the group all began to softly sing in their prayer languages, and when it ended a little Chinese nun, who had never spoken in tongues, was still singing -- high and clear and glorious -- while tears rolled down her cheeks. And the interpretation came forth: "Weep no more My daughter. Weep no more My bride. But feed My sheep. Feed on My Word for My Word is true, and feed My sheep as I have fed you. Weep no more My daughter; weep no more My bride."

And then the evangelical missionary who came -- and we knew something was wrong. When we prayed God said through a word of knowledge she had a demon of lust. We blushed with embarrassment and didn't believe it but prayed for her freedom. And she was baptized with the Spirit and a year later told us she had been committing adultery with a married missionary for a long time, but the day she met us she was instantly delivered.

Yes, we had met a lot of different kinds of people and our days were very full and we were very, very tired. We desperately wanted to go somewhere, but Hong Kong is not very large. One day I telephoned a travel agency -- I just knew we were going on a trip. As the telephone rang, I realized I didn't know where we were going and hung up. The mail arrived, and in it was a letter from Jim and Elaine Foerster, who had been transferred to another country. They wanted to send us round-trip tickets to go and visit them. Even though we suspected the bait had a hook in it, we heartily acquiesced, and it wasn't long before we were flying to spend a week relaxing with the Foersters. It didn't work out quite that way.

The Foersters had us booked for dinner parties, luncheons, and morning coffees. We were expected to tell all of their friends about the Holy Spirit and what He could do for them. It was a big order and developed into an exhausting one.

The first Saturday night produced a dinner party with their friends, who all attended the same church. Rick and I were at different tables, but both of us were telling the things God had done in our lives. The next morning at church I could see in the eyes of the priest's wife that she yearned for the Spirit. I told Elaine she should invite her over so she would not have to wait any longer. Thyrza eagerly accepted. But when we began to talk, Thyrza realized she was not ready for the Spirit because she had to meet Jesus first. The Holy Spirit had been drawing her so strongly that this was not difficult. When God filled her, there was something so deep and intense in her prayer in the Spirit that, even though she spoke quietly, the dogs began to bark wildly and had to be taken away. From the moment chic, popular Thyrza became a disciple of Jesus she talked about Him to everyone who would listen -- and listen they did.

Tuesday night was the pancake supper. In the past Shrove Tuesday was the time each person confessed his sins, was shriven and ate up all the goodies in teh larder to prepare for an abstemious Lent. This lucrative-looking little Episcopal Church did not operate in that fashion. There was no service, no confession, not even a blessing before or after the food.

Elaine had asked me to see if I could "do something" for a young girl she knew. The teenager was in rebellion against her parents and had twice run away from school with men: once with the janitor and once with another man. The police had been several weeks finding her. The proper people of the church did not want their children around her and everyone was uptight over it. The girl was taken regularly to church by her parents, but she refused to sing, stand or kneel when required. I was also told she was very rude if anyone mentioned religion.

At dinner someone introduced me and I said, "Sit by me, Cassie" -- not her real name -- "we need some young blood at this table." After a few introductory remarks, I suggested that if she ever came to Hong Kong she should come and see us -- that we had about fifty kids meeting at our house every Saturday night. She showed a spark of interest: "What for? What is it?"

"I suppose you might call it a 'Love-In'"

Cassie was definitely interested and wanted to know more. I proposed we cross the driveway and sit under a tree where we could talk more freely. I told her about SNAG and my experience with the baptism in the Spirit. I didn't know it, but she didn't believe me. "Can you talk in that language at any time?"

"Yes."

"Will you?" To herself, she thought that anyone could make up nonsense syllables. I quietly spoke several sentences in tongues, whereupon Cassie let out an earsplitting shriek. I looked across the driveway in horror, expecting people to rush over demanding, "What have you done to this child?" Strangely, no one moved or even turned around. They were quietly eating as though nothing had transpired. Those I asked later said they had heard nothing.

"Do it again."

"Not if you're going to scream. What's wrong with you?"

"I promise I won't."

I spoke again in tongues. Cassie moaned, "Wow! Wowww!"

"What is the matter with you?"

"Listen: I've been everywhere and done everything. I've been to seances; I've been where they worship Satan; and I've never felt anything before. Are you a witch?"

"Certainly not!"

"Can't you be a witch for God?"

"Would you believe a prophetess?" I laughed.

"Can I have that, too?"

"There's a catch in it -- you have to have Jesus first."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know anything about Jesus?"

"No. Only what I heard in Sunday School and I didn't believe any of that."

I told her in some detail why Jesus died and that her only part of it was acceptance -- that He had loved Cassie so much He had given His life in order that she might be reconciled to God.

Cassie had begun to cry. "What do I have to do?"

"Pray and ask Him to forgive all the nasty things you've ever done and to make you His child."

"I don't know how to pray."

"You can say something like, 'Dear Lord, I'm sorry for --'"

"Can I do it my way?"

"Certainly. Go ahead."

"Uhh, hi there -- if You're there -- I'm really sorry about the mess I've made of my life and, uh, I'd really like You to straighten it out -- and take over -- if You wouldn't mind --"

I prayed, thanking Jesus Christ for making her a new person in Him. She warned me it might not last with her, and we both went home.

At 11:00 PM the maid said Cassie's mother was on the telephone and wanted to speak to me. I thought, "Uh-oh."

The mother wanted to tell me that Cassie had recounted talking to a woman at church, and afterward feeling as though she had been washed inside. She quoted Cassie as having said, "Mother, I feel as though I have lived in a dark cellar all my life and have finally come out into the sunlight. I don't ever want to go back, or do those bad things again." Cassie went to bed and somewhat later came into her mother's room saying, "I was praying to Jesus and He gave me a new language. Listen." And she spoke in tongues. Her mother said it was really beautiful. The last I heard from the family, it has lasted, with Cassie teaching Sunday School in the Episcopal Church. At least one person was shriven on Shrove Tuesday.

We attended the Lenten Bible Study at the Episcopal Church. They were studying chapter 2 of the Book of Acts. Richard and I were determined to keep silent. We managed that for all of fifteen minutes when someone asked, "Did they speak in known languages on the day of Pentecost?" The priest answered, "The commentary I have here states that they probably did not." I mentioned casually that I knew a minister who had spoken in tongues to an Egyptian woman. The language was Arabic, which he did not know, and she was converted to Christianity because of it. I explained how the story was documented. Someone said, "I remember reading about this happening in an Episcopal Church in California some years ago." The priest said, "Jean is from that church and she and Rick can tell us all about it, so let's don't be in too big a hurry to go on."

Eight people had been filled with the Spirit by the time we left the Foersters, but the finale came when we returned to Hong Kong. The priest and his wife were traveling through, and we took them out several times and introduced them to our friends. His father had been a strong influence on Bishop Pike's theology, and although the priest was liberal in being willing for everyone to do his own thing, he was not personally interested in the charismata, to his wife's complete frustration.

They attended SNAG on Saturday night, and the minister seemed turned to stone. But upon returning to their apartment he told his wife that during the meeting he had "seen" a long black tunnel with light at the other end. A voice said, "It's only your pride that's keeping you in darkness." He prayed with his wife, affirmed faith in the resurrected Christ, and the Spirit gave him one word of a new language.

Knowing nothing of this, I said to the family, "I'm not going to church tomorrow." They asked why and I didn't really know. The next morning, at the time we would normally have been in church, the telephone rang. The priest wanted to talk to Rick before they caught their plane. And an hour before the plane left for the United States, the minister was fluently magnifying God in his new language.

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