Young Hudson Taylor began the study of medicine as well as Greek, Hebrew, and Latin in preparation for a life of service in China. He realized, however, that the most important preparation of all must take place in his own soul. In China he would have to depend completely on the Lord for protection, supplies—for everything.
Fearing that he might become a dismal failure later on, he determined to test the Saviour’s promise, “Whatsoever ye shall ask in My name, that I will do” (Jn. 14:13), while still in his homeland. He resolved to learn, as he said, “before leaving England, to move man, through God, by prayer alone.” If the simple statement of the Lord meant exactly what it appeared to say on the surface, he knew it was the key to powerful and effective Christian service, as the Lord Jesus concluded: “that the Father may be glorified in the Son.”
He decided to make the test in a specific situation regarding his salary. His employer had asked Hudson to remind him whenever his salary was due—once each quarter. This he decided he would not do, instead leaving it completely in the hands of the Lord.
As he was continuing in earnest prayer about the matter, the time came for the payment of a quarter’s salary. On settling up his accounts one Saturday night he found he only one remaining coin—a half a crown.
About ten o’clock that Sunday night as he was doing gospel work in the inner city of London, a desperate man asked him to go and pray with his wife who was dying. He was led down a narrow alley and up a miserable flight of stairs into a wretched room. What a pathetic sight he met there. Four or five children stood about, their sunken cheeks telling unmistakably the story of slow starvation, and lying on a filthy mattress was a forlorn-looking mother with a tiny infant moaning at her side.
“If only,” thought Taylor, “if only I had two shillings and a sixpence, instead of half-a-crown, I would gladly let them have one-and-sixpence of it.”
He sought to comfort them by saying that, however distressing their circumstances, there was a kind and loving Father looking down from heaven. But his conscience cried out, “You hypocrite! Telling these unconverted people about a kind and loving Father in heaven, and not prepared yourself to trust Him without that half-a-crown.”
The thought made him miserable. Again he calculated: If his coin could be changed, he would gladly give a florin and keep only the sixpence remaining. But he was not yet prepared to trust in God alone, without the sixpence. Unable to continue the conversation, he said to the man: “You asked me to come and pray with your wife. Let us pray.”
He knelt down, but no sooner had he said, “Our Father,” than he heard a voice within saying, “Dare you mock God? Dare you kneel down and call Him Father with that half crown in your pocket?” Feebly finishing the prayer, he stood up.
“I put my hand into my pocket,” he later recounted, “and slowly drawing out the half crown, gave it to the man, telling him that it might seem a small matter for me to relieve them, seeing that I was comparatively well off, but that in parting with that coin I was giving him my all. But that what I had been trying to tell them was indeed true—God really is a Father and may be trusted. And how the joy came back in full floodtide in my heart!
“Not only was the poor woman’s life saved, but my life had been saved too.” He was convinced that money thus given in Christ’s name was a loan which He would repay. He went home happy in heart, and before retiring asked the Lord not to let his loan be a long one or he would have nothing to eat the next day.
Early the next morning the mailman’s knock was heard at the door. He very rarely ever received a letter on Monday morning, so was surprised when the landlady came in with a letter. On opening the envelope, he found a sheet of blank paper and a half sovereign. “Praise the Lord!” he exclaimed. “Four hundred percent for a twelve hours’ investment!” He then and there learned that the bank of heaven is always dependable and pays good dividends.
THOU ART THE MAN
While traveling by ship on one of his many “journeyings oft,” Taylor entered into conversation with a Chinese man who had once visited England, where he went by the name of Peter. The man listened attentively to the missionary’s account of Christ’s saving love and was even moved to tears, but refused to accept the offered salvation.
Later on the journey, as they approached the harbor, evidently in a mood of great despondency, Peter jumped overboard, determined to end his life. Taylor saw it happen and looked around in desperation for help. Then he saw a fishing boat close by with a dragnet.
“Come over here!” Taylor beckoned to the fishermen. “Drag over this spot. A man sank here and is drowning!”
“It’s not convenient,” was the calloused reply.
“Don’t talk about convenience!” cried the missionary. “A man is drowning.”
“We’re busy fishing and can’t come now,” they responded again.
At that point the missionary offered to pay them. They demanded to know how much. His offer of five dollars was refused. He then said: “All right, I’ll give you all the money I have—about fourteen dollars.”
Finally, the boat was manoevered near the spot where Taylor indicated and the drag net with hooks was let down. In less than a minute the body was discovered, but all efforts at resuscitation failed. Peter was in eternity.
To Hudson Taylor this incident was profoundly sad in itself and pathetic in its parabolic significance. Were not those fishermen guilty of the death of that man? They had the opportunity and means of saving him, but refused to use them. Most certainly they were guilty.
“And yet,” Taylor later added, “let us pause before we pronounce judgment against them, lest a greater than Nathan answer, ‘Thou art the man.’ Is it so wicked a thing to neglect to save the body? Of how much sorer punishment, then, is he worthy who leaves the immortal soul to perish!
“The Lord Jesus commands me, commands you: ‘Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.’ Shall we say to Him, ‘No, it’s not convenient”? Shall we tell Him that we are busy at other business and cannot go? It is of no use for us to sing as we often do: ‘Waft, waft ye winds the story.’ The winds will never waft the story but they may waft us. Oh, let us pray and let us labor for the salvation of the unevangelized millions.
A THOUSAND WORKERS
One of the most remarkable expressions of Hudson Taylor’s faith in God—and heaven’s evidence that God loves boldness in faith—was his ever-growing request to the Lord to thrust out laborers to China.
It began one morning, June 25, 1865, on the sands of Brighton Beach. As was said long ago in the time of Jacob, so once again, “There wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day.”
As Taylor walked the beach and prayed, the conviction gripped his soul that he ought to ask for two new workers for each of the eleven unoccupied provinces and two for Chinese Tartary and Tibet, or twenty-four in all. But would financial support for so many be forthcoming? Would their anchor hold in the midst of the difficult trials of service in China? Or would they lose heart and blame him for bringing them into such hardships?
Eventually, a shaft of light broke into his heart and he exclaimed, “If we are obeying the Lord, the responsibility rests with Him, not with us.”
Later that day, he wrote in his Bible: “At Brighton, June 25, 1865, prayed for twenty-four willing, skillful laborers for China.” That date marks the birthday of the China Inland Mission. The Lord of the harvest did “thrust forth laborers” in answer to prayer, and at the same time moved some of His stewards to supply the necessary funds for His work and His workers. “Faithful is He that calleth you, who also will do it” (1 Thess. 5:24).