"FINDING MEN"
Written for the Otago Daily Times, By the Rev. D. Gakdnkr Miller.
I have a fairly extensive acquaintance with " thrillers." I keep several close handy for those odd hours of relaxation which Nature demands from those whose work is intense. The other day I received a bundle of books from the publishers for review, and among them was the greatest "find" in the thriller class that I have come across for many years. From the title you would never guess that the book is exciting, dramatic, breath-catching, and that it is another brilliant refutation to all those who blatantly or sorrowfully declare that religion has had its day and is now a " washout." It is called " Finding Men for Christ" and is written by a Methodist minister, C. F. Dempster, who adventures for Christ in that dismal quarter of East London known as Dockland. The price is only Is (Is 3d in New Zealand), and the book contains more reading matter than many that cost six times the price. I am not easily ,moved about work in East London. I know its literature and life at first hand, and I approach books dealing with Dockland, Limehouse, and other well-known quarters with a rather critical mind. But this book broke down my critical barriers, caught my breath and ben. my knees in prayer. I anticipate that tens of thousands of men and women will read it and give thanks to God for it.
You have often heard the phrase "human documents." Well, here they are, with all the colours of realism and romance—and truth. There are 10 chapters in the book and each chapter is a living page torn out of the book of life. Here are the true stories of men and women lifted up out of despair, shame, defeat, hell, and their lives miraculously changed by that marvellous power of the living Christ which the New Testament calls conversion.
The author goes out to find men for Christ " Seek and ye shall find " takes on a new meaning as you follow this adventuring minister along the mean streets, and up the dark stairs of drab East London. I fancy Mr Dempster could tell a great deal more than he does, for I know something of the restraints laid upon a man who is the living repository of other people's life stories. Let me give you just a thumb-nail sketch of one of his "finds" and perhaps a mention of some others. This intrepid minister felt he must share the actual life of the people to whom he ministers. So he disguised himself and took his place at 5 o'clock in the morning among those who waited for a job at the dock gates. Day after day he waited and hoped that he might be one of the-lucky ones to be picked by the ganger to load or unload a ship. One day he woe picked with others to unload a steamer that was out in mid-stream, the only access to its hold being by planks laid across a barge from the dockside. Over these planks he trundled a barrow loaded with cases of dried fruit. Eleven times he did it. On the twelfth occasion something happened. He fell, barrow and all, into the Thames, 12 feet below. He was the victim of a so-called joke. Determined not to show spite, when he was helped out of the slime and mud, he made an appointment with his rescuer. To make a long story short, the rescuer and rescued found themselves in the latter's house and confidences were exchanged. The " docker " who had pulled the parson out of the Thames mud was a down-and-out medical man who had ruined a rising practice and his home, and had brought terrible shame on his family, through drink. He submitted to Christ and there and then a new life was begun. In a wonderful yet natural way a reconciliation was brought about between the man and his wife and family, and for many years afterwards he became indeed a beloved physician and leader of a Bible class. Then there's the story of. the man he found sleeping under a coster's barrow, and the story of the man he found leaning against a horse-trough with the bitterness of hell in his heart, and the story of the girl he found drugged on the top of a bus, and the story of the man he found at 2 o'clock one foggy morning on a seat on the Thames Embankment, muttering "Just another night, God—just another. Let me see the kid once more, then it won't matter." I defy you ever to despair of human nature being changed after you read this book: and I charge you—and myself—ever to be smug and complacent after reading this book. It's a thriller because it is a modern reprint of the New Testament.
Finding men for Christ is the glorious privilege and task of every follower of Christ. There is something wrong us when we have no " concern" for others. I know, of course, that not all of us are cut out for daring adventures in the streets of life, but I also know that all 'of us could introduce Christ to others, in our own quiet way, oftener than we do. Really, I just wonder how many of us speak of Christ to others during the course of a year. I don't mean anything about religion and getting all "het-up" about churches and ministers and doctrines—believe me, they are not nearly so important as one thinks—but simply and with gladness speak of Him Who means so much to you and me. There is a natural diffiddence, I know, about speaking of intimate spiritual things, but surely we can get alongside someone and tell him of Jesus Who is mighty to save, without in any way feeling embarrassed. The author of the book I have told you of stresses a point which I myself have never found to fail. That is, act upon the spiritual impulse at once. God does not map out your daily programme like the items for a concert, but He guides you and inspires and urges you just at the very moment when He wants you to make a contact with someone. Act on it, no matter where it may lead you, and you will find yourself " finding " men and women for Christ. After all, if we love Christ as truly as we say we do, we should be eager 1o tell about Him to others. We don't save. He does. But He waits for us to make the introduction.
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Bibliographic details
Otago Daily Times, Issue 22718, 2 November 1935, Page 27
Word Count
1,106"FINDING MEN" Otago Daily Times, Issue 22718, 2 November 1935, Page 27
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