Chapter 16 - Great and Mighty Things

The atheistic head doctor at Habikino Hospital was very sympathetic to the work of the Japan Mission, for I had taught him to speak English. Because he was widely known as a specialist in tubercular diseases he had many opportunities to represent Japan abroad at medical conferences, and it was a handicap to him not to know English.

I had taken him a conversational English book and had read the first lesson over with him, when he had come to our home for the lessons. “Now when you go home,” I told him, “read it over again several times until you understand it.”

Instead, the doctor took the book to his office in the hospital and spent all night, up until about four in the morning, going over the lesson. Then he would sleep a few hours, get up and study some more. When he came to the house the next day or so, I said, shall we try to read over this lesson again?”

“No,” the doctor said, “I’d like to quote it to you.” This happened with chapter after chapter, and he quoted his way right through the book. I had never seen anyone learn English so fast!

But later, after the doctor had attended some conferences in England and the United States, he told me that wherever he went, people would ask him how he had learned English. They simply could not understand why he spoke with a South African accent!

One day this doctor came to me and said, “There’s a man in my hospital who wants to commit suicide. I’ve discovered that my medicines do not help suicides!”

I realized that this was an important case. If this patient could he saved, perhaps the doctor could also be influenced for Christ. I immediately sent one of the Mission’s young evangelists to call on the patient, but he was almost literally thrown out of the room. The sick man wouldn’t have anything to do with him.

So I went to Sato Sensei and told him what had happened. “Please go and see this man,” I said. “No one else is experienced enough to know how to cope with him. Perhaps you can help him.”

Sato Sensei is a man wonderfully used of God, a broken instrument in the hands of the Lord. When he went into the room of this hostile young man, his love and tears proved irresistible. After Sato Sensei had pleaded with him for an hour and a half, the man saw how foolish it was for him to contemplate suicide, and he agreed to read the New Testament that Sato Sensei had brought.

When Sato Sensei went home he knelt and said, “Lord, I promise You that I will pray for this man, and I promise You that I will visit him every Tuesday until he finds You as His Savior.”

And Sato Sensei kept his word. For a full year, every Tuesday afternoon he went to that man and visited him, telling him of the wonderful salvation of Jesus Christ. Oten this man seemed to be right on the verge of taking the step of accepting Christ, hut something seemed to be holding him back. He just could not seem to take that final step.

One Tuesday Sato Sensei had other important business in Osaka City, and he could not get to the hospital. On the following Tuesday he went back to the hospital, and discovered that this man had died suddenly from a lung hemorrhage. Sato Sensei was not unduly upset by this, for he had done his duty. He had gone every Tuesday for a whole year.

Three months later a letter reached him from the sister of this man. She was a Christian, and after her brother’s death she had come to the hospital. When a patient dies he is cremated and everything he possessed is burned to help prevent the spread of the disease. But this man’s Christian sister felt that she should keep his Bible and his diary, and took them home with her.

She began reading in this detailed diary, and as she looked into the life of her brother she discovered that there had been a sin in his life in addition to this tuberculosis, that caused such deep suffering it had led him to the desire to commit suicide. She read how he had prepared to take his life, working out a plan so carefully that is seemed it could not fail and that no one could stop him.

Then she discovered that Sato Sensei’s name appeared, and saw the impression that this man of God made on the life of her brother. The diary told how every day after Sato Sensei had first come, her brother read the Bible. She read of the Tuesday visits of Sato Sensei, and as she got more and more excited and caught up in what was happening, she read faster and faster to the end of the diary to see what had happened.

She read about this sin which was the only thing that held her brother back from becoming a Christian. There was only one thing left in his way. He wanted to become a Christian, and yet he could not get over the sense of guilt over this terrible sin he had committed in the past.

And then she came to the last Tuesday. The last words he ever wrote in his diary were penned on that day. “Today I have decided to become a Christian,” he wrote. “I’m just going to wait for the evangelist to explain the way of salvation.”

In preparation for the evangelist he wrote that he had bathed himself. He put on clean underwear. He put on his best clothes. He set out his Bible, to have it ready. And then he said to the nurse, “As soon as the evangelist comes, send him immediately to my room, because today I have urgent business with him.”

And then on the page there appeared the last words that he ever wrote–“But hp did not come!”

When Sato Sensei had progressed this far in the letter from the man’s sister, he could not read any further. He was sitting in his office on his legs by his foot-high desk, and when he had read this far his head fell over an his arms and he wept before the Lord. His wife told me later that he had wept for half an hour without being able to speak except to cry out over and over, “Lord, I failed You! I failed You! When a needy soul desperately wanted me, I had other business!”

And then, still in tears and sobbing audibly, he got on his bicycle and came to our home, weeping as if his heart would break. He was crying so hard I could hardly understand him to find out what had happened.

The monthly day of fasting and prayer was due a few days later, and Sato Sensei asked me for an opportunity to address the younger evangelists.

“I have a letter in my packet,” he told them. “It’s burning! I cannot answer it! The sister of this man wants me to answer her question. ‘Where is the soul of my brother?”’ And Sato Sensei began weeping all over again.

No matter how we all tried to console him, no matter how we tried to reassure him that this man would probably he in heaven with the Lord because he had really wanted to accept Christ, Sato Sensei could not gain this assurance.

But the effect of this sorrow on that prayer meeting was terrific! We didn’t do much praying on that day, but we all did a lot of weeping! Before long every one in the mission was confessing things before the Lord, making things right with each other, asking the Lord to cleanse us and meet us afresh with an outpouring of His Holy Spirit for service.

God did something for us as a Mission that day that no amount of “success” in our efforts could ever have accomplished, for He molded us all into His servants with more of His compassion, and with a greater sense of urgency for men and women going into a Christless eternity, than we had ever felt before. The God Who had promised “great and mighty things,” in this way turned the greatest tragedy into the greatest blessing the Mission had ever known, filling us with new power for serving this Almighty God.

When a death occurs in a Japanese home, the godshelf is covered with white paper.

Because the dead are impure, the news of the death must he kept away from the god. For years Sato Sensei had lived under the shadow of the Buddhist godshelf in his home, for his father remained head of the household as long as he lived. But then his father

died and Sato Sensei assumed leadership of the family for the first time, the very first thing he did was to got rid of that godshelf!

By this time two more rooms had been added onto his home, for his son was now married and living there with his wife. But although Sato Sensei still lives in his own home, the responsibility of the Japan Mission and its family of 80 workers now rests upon his shoulders more than ever before, as we must be away more often, spreading the news of the Mission and advancing the cause of hospital evangelism in other areas of Asia. I am keenly aware that life is short for us all, and I live with the urgency of the great need of these perishing millions heavy on my heart. In the summer of 1972 I discovered that the Koreans are making earnest efforts to minister to the many sufferers in the hospitals there, and I made a visit to see for myself what thy opportunities are, and what was being done.

Korea is a land which has known war, turmoil, and ravages of one kind or another for many years. Through it all a strong Christian testimony has been held. I learned that Korean Christians love God more than sleep, more than money, more than food or even the daily necessities of life. When they yield to Christ, they give Him their all. With an average salary of $180 per month per family, many give a tenth of their income, others twice that amount, and some of them share half their meager salary with God for the sake of their lost brothers and sisters.

I stayed in the home of Rev. Bok Kyou Chou of Bethany Presbyterian Church. While I was there, I discovered that Pastor Chou did not go to bed until one in the morning, and was up again by three oÅfclock to prepare for the daily 4.30 a.m. prayer meeting. When I arrived at the prayer meeting there were already 150 people present, and before the hour was over, 600 people were participating!

Before the people were dismissed, Pastor Chou asked those present to pray for me and my hospital ministry in Japan. When the Korean Christians pray, they all pray aloud at the same time, just as Japanese Christians do, but there is no confusion. I was deeply moved on this memorable morning as I heard 600 voices lifted up to God in prayer together for me and my work, even though the prayers were in a strange tongue.

When the prayer meeting ended at 5.30, I dropped into bed exhausted, but Pastor Chou put on his work clothes to go work at the church. “You wonÅft last long,” I told him, “if you keep on at such a pace!”

“What does it matter,” Pastor Chou replied, “as long as God sends revival?”

I learned from others that this man knows the meaning of sacrifice, not only of his time. When some needy Christians appealed to him for clothing he gave them all that he had, keeping only his Pajamas. Often in the winter time he goes out in a good suit or warm overcoat, and comes back in rags.

One winter day, wearing pathetically thin apparel, he went out into the mountains to pray for his congregation. For seven days he lived in a cave without food, but when he returned God wonderfully answered his prayers, for a genuine revival broke out among the families of his church.

Laymen as well as pastors show the same dedication for God, holding open-air meetings, visiting the sick, living sacrificially. I visited a retired businessman before leaving Korea, and found that, he rises daily at 3 A.M. and climbs a mountain every morning, even when it rains or snows, for his appointment with God. At six he returns, and after a hurried breakfast, begins a round of visiting neighbors and hospitals, telling of Christ’s love.

Although only 10 percent of the Korean population are Christians, churches are found in nearly every village and church bells are heard all over the country. Opportunities for evangelism have been wide open. Recently 4,300 soldiers were baptized at one time. It had taken 50 ministers from the churches involved nearly six months to prepare these new converts for the step of baptism, and be sure that they really knew the Lord.

The secret of the vitality of Korean Christians lies in their emphasis on prayer. All churches have early morning prayer meetings, 365 days a year. Many big churches have at least two all night prayer meetings in their hall each month. Recently the government became suspicious of these gatherings, and on November 12, 1968 destroyed 187 halls of prayer.

Did that stop Christians from having all nights of prayer? No, indeed. Now they pitch tents in the mountains, away from the noise and danger of the cities, to pray undisturbed.

I was deeply impressed and almost overwhelmed by the earnestness and fervor of these Korean Christians, and tremendously concerned for the work they are doing in Korean hospitals. I discovered that there are over forty full-time hospital evangelists seeking to bring Christ to the sick and dying.

For example, in one of the very poor hospitals, where two or more patients die every day, Miss Lee Ki Ok has taken it upon herself in love to prepare the dead for burial. At the same time, she ministers Christ to the bereaved family and leads many of them to the Lord.

Many of these forty Koreans ministering Christ in the hospitals are living barely above a subsistence level, serving others rather than spending their time earning a living. In faith, I felt God leading me to commit the Japan Mission to supporting some of those Korean evangelists regularly, to help them remain in this valuable ministry.

One lovely warm day during 1975 I was driving down one of the crowded highways of Japan. I was utterly discouraged. I had heard of some converts who had gone back in their faith and began to wonder whether my ministry in Japan might not be a bitter failure in the sight of God.

Usually when I drive alone I try not to listen to the radio! Instead, I try to make it a time of prayer and praise before the Lord. But on this day my heart was so gloomy and my outlook on my work for God so pessimistic that it kept my lips shut. I drove along feeling sorry for myself, thinking that even if on the surface the ministry of the Japan Mission showed blessing, from heaven’s point of view I must be a failure and should never have spent all these years in the East in mission work.

Soon a big building loomed in front of me and I suddenly remembered that Peggy had asked me to drop in at that place and make some inquiries for her. Brown bread is almost unobtainable in Japan except from some German bakeries. Peggy had noticed that this place was a bakery specializing in German cookies, and she thought perhaps they also might make German bread there. Since it was not far from us, if they carried brown bread we could get our supply there regularly.

As I went in, I noticed that it was a wholesale bakery, so asked if I could see the manager. I was escorted to a beautiful office on the second floor of the building adjacent to this one, and presented my name card to be handed to the manager.

I waited for a few moments and then a man a little younger than myself came briskly into the office and said, “Mr. Verwey, is it – really you? I can hardly believe it!” In a very un-Japanese way he almost hugged me.

He then told me that twenty years before when he had been flat on his back and in the deepest despair as a TB patient, I had come into his room, explained the way of salvation to him and he had found Jesus Christ as his Savior. As we talked about the years since that time, I discovered that he had continued to follow the Lord and was now a pillar in his church.

I then got up, bowed low and started to leave the room, but he stopped me saying, when you visited me in the hospital we always read God’s Word together.” He brought out his Bible, and there with several unsaved people looking on, we read some verses together.

I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his unsaved employees by suggesting that we pray together, so once again I got up and bowed to go, but he said, “We always used to pray together too.” Again I sat down. After I had prayed, he prayed also, thanking the Lord for what I had meant to him twenty years before.

Again I started to leave, and as I was putting on my shoes at the door he asked me what had brought me to his bakery. He was the owner! Then for the first time I remembered about the bread, and told him. He said, “Well, we don’t bake bread ourselves, but we will get as much as you want for you. We only bake cookies here.” He called one of the employees and said, “Find out where Mr. Verwey’s car is parked, and pack it full of cases of German cookies of various kinds.”

By the time I got to my car there were three men standing there with big boxes of German cookies which they loaded in my car as soon as I unlocked it. When I got home we had cookies for ourselves, for our workers, and also for any friends who visited us.

Every time we serve the cookies I tell this story about how discouraged I was and how I had come back praising God, knowing that although I might not think so, God had been at work during the many years I have served Him in Japan. He had lifted the curtain a little bit to encourage me, and to show me that what I’ve done for Him in this country has been worthwhile.

Perhaps our greatest faith venture thus far has been our film ministry in Korea. “A Martyr’s Story,” an hour and a half long movie cost $50,000 to produce. It is the story of Pastor Lee, who was martyred for his faith. It appeared first in book form, written by his daughter, Sarah Lee.

I am sorry, but I cannot attend the premiere of ‘A Martyr’s Song,’ said President ParkÅfs daughter to Sarah Lee, “but I will arrange for my father and the rest of the presidential household to see the film in our private theater at a later date.” The Lee family had first come to know of the president’s daughter’s interest when she had ordered 300 copies of the book for distribution in the prisons of Korea.

While “A Martyr’s Song” was being filmed, a prayer meeting was held every day before the work began. On more than one such occasion there was such a spirit of prayer that the work was considerably delayed. During production 47 individuals sought the Lord and some of them are now regular church attenders.

When the sound was first added to the film one of the announcers burst into tears in front of the microphone. She said that up until then she had only been associated with the world of fiction, but now she had seen the power of reality and wanted to know more about the God that Pastor Lee worshipped.

The grandson of Pastor Lee played the part of his grandfather and performed his task so well that he was approached by a film company to join their task. He replied, I intend to be an actor just once and that is to portray my grandfather’s, life. I have no personal interest in the lime light.” During the filming when it was necessary for him, to shed tears, he prayed in such a way that the tears came naturally. The unsaved technicians were utterly amazed at the way he “lived” the part. Three of these young technicians sought the Lord and are now attending church together.

This film is shown daily in Korea, and often there are more than a thousand people present. About 100,000 people have seen the film just during the first few months it has been available and many have been moved toward God. The purpose of this film in Korea is twofold. In the first place it is to reach out to the 30 million unsaved with the, Gospel of Jesus Christ. In the second place, it is to prepare the Christians for persecution, and if necessary, martyrdom.

For the past twenty years North Korea has been building up military power. Every woman can operate a rifle and light-weight guns have been made especially for the use of the children. North Korea is even prepared for nuclear war. She has massive underground airplane hangars and arsenals. She also specializes in the building of underground tunnels of which an unknown number have already been dug through the mountains to South Korea. Some of them are over 160 yards under ground and built through solid rock! The day may not be far off when South Korea has to fight for her very life.

And who can say where the work of the Japan Mission should end? There are spiritually needy people not only in Japan and Korea, but all over Asia, a vast harvest field for the Savior ripe for the harvesting, most of whom have never even heard of Jesus Christ. Although millions seem to be locked behind walls that keep out the Gospel there are millions of others who still can be reached personally. And God has ways of reaching even behind the seemingly impenetrable walls of the atheistic totalitarian regimes. But where are the workers for whom the Lord of the harvest has called? Where are the businessmen for God who will support the harvesters? For there are still streets that are desolate, in many countries, where the name of Jesus Christ has never been heard.

One time I was speaking in an early morning prayer meeting in a Japanese hospital when a 76 year old lady came up to me and said, “I’m so glad your evangelist, Mr. Karasawa, came to my bedside and told me about Jesus Christ.

“But one thing I can’t understand,” she added. “Why did I have to search for this God for twenty years? I tried to worship a different god every day, to be sure that at least once in my lifetime I would be able to worship the true God.”

She told how she had gone to temple after temple, using this purification water and that purification water, in the vain attempt to wash away her sins. Then she heard of Jesus Christ, and her search ended. “Now I’m in a hurry to get well and leave the hospital, she said, “so I can tell all my family and friends that I have found the true God.”

“But tell me,” she said, “in countries where they serve this God, don’t you have other people who could come over and tell our people about this God? Why did I have to search so long?”

I couldn’t answer, for how could I tell her that in Christian countries people are often too busy enjoying their church services, enjoying their hymnsings and their choir concerts, and enjoying their church socials, to have much concern for carrying the message to the other parts of the world?

One young Japanese had searched desperately for God. He would get up in the middle of the night and go out into the mountains. He would climb to the top of the mountain and pray to the moon, shouting as loudly as he could, pouring out his heart in prayer. And then he would be very quiet, but in the silence which followed he knew that this wasn’t real.

So the next night he would get up again at midnight, go into the forest, and pray to the spirits of the forest. Again he would listen, but in the stillness and emptiness in which his words hung in the air, he knew there was no response.

And so night after night, when everyone was asleep, this young man was searching, searching for the true God, through streets that were desolate of hope. And then one day he heard some Gospel singing, and he walked into the room from which the sound was coming. It was a church, and here he heard for the first he heard of Jesus Christ, and knew he had found the true God, the One Who hears and answers the cry of a suffering heart.

Another lady would go out onto her porch three times a day and would pray. “O, faraway God!” She would pour out her heart to this God three times a day. She had tried the nearby gods, the temples, the idols. She knew they could not help her. So now three times a day she prayed to the faraway God, Whom she knew must be there, Who must be real. Without a Bible, never having heard of Jesus Christ, like the poeple in Acts 17:23ff, she was already ignorantly worshipping the Unknown God.

One morning very early as I was on my way to one of the hospitals I noticed a man worshipping. Several mornings in a row I passed him, worshipping in the same way. Now I had seen many Japanese worship, in many different ways before all kinds of gods. But I had never seen a man worship like this one.

This man first, walked in the direction of the north and clapped his hands. (Worshippers in Japan clap their hands to draw attention of the gods to their prayers). After he had clapped his hands, he worshipped most earnestly.

Then he walked in the direction of the south, clapped his hands and again worshipped with all the zeal he could pour out. Then he walked in the direction of the east and worshipped the same way. When he finished he walked toward the west and worshipped again.

I watched him for several mornings, and one morning after the man had finished I went to him and said, “I’ve seen many others worship. They worship in many ways. They worship many gods. But I’ve never come across anyone who worships like you. Could you tell me what god you worship?”

“Years ago,” the man told me, “I heard of a God, and they told me that this God is the true God. They called Him the God of the Cross. And since that day I decided that I would worship the God of the Cross. Every morning I worship Him in the form of a Cross, first in the direction of the north, then the south, the east and the west”.

“Please tell me,” the man said earnestly, “if you know the God of the Cross. Tell me, if I worship Him like this every morning, do you think He will have mercy on my soul?”

My eyes filled with tears, and for a few moments I was too grieved to speak. Then I simply took the man by the hand, and brought him along to the early morning prayer meeting. There for the first time this man met some Christians and heard the whole story about the God of the Cross whom he already worshipped in the only way he knew. A few days later I met this man again and could see by the light that radiated from his face that he had met Jesus Christ, the God of the Cross and had invited Him into his heart.

But why did he have to wait so long?