"He who is emasculated by crushing or mutilation shall not enter the assembly of the Lord. NKJV
Served With Sago
They disembarked the ship at ‘Risk Point’ on the River Fly and were invited by the fierce Tribesmen into their longhouse for a meal. Little did they know that they were in fact the main ingredient of that meal. In just a few moments the stone clubs smashed into the back of their heads and then just as quickly, a bone dagger was thrust downwards into their gullets and their heads immediately sawn off their bodies with a bamboo knife. The headless corpses were then given to the women of the tribe, the flesh of which was removed and then cooked and mixed with sago, which in turn, was consumed with gladness that very day. It was via this most terrible route, that the younger missionary, Oliver Tomkins and the sixty year old walking legend of Rev. James Chalmers (Tamate, the Great Heart of Papua New Guinea,) entered into heaven.
Chalmers was known as 'Tamate,' simply because the Tribes people he took the Gospel to, could not pronounce his real name. Tamate stuck! Indeed, he stuck with his task and duty for over twenty years without taking a furlough, lost two wives to exhaustion and sickness, was shipwrecked at least four times and was in constant danger every other day and twice on Sundays! He was a sold out, eccentric man of God, a man’s man of genuine loveable character, making friends and followers ranging from Robert Louise Stevenson to even ‘Bully’ Hayes, that most infamous 6 foot 4 inched, 4 foot round barrel chested pirate from Ohio! There is no time tonight to tell you of his deeds amongst the fierce, live nose biting, eating, battling cannibals, which he came to take the Gospel to. Men like him would find no place in the churches of today. Indeed I wonder if their spirit if now placed among us, would most naturally turn to arson and burn our buildings down around our girly heads? Ladies please, no offence intended.Whenever I read of brethren of this stature, for what mighty warriors were both they and their dear Deborahs’, I am struck by two things.
First of course is their daring, their dedication to duty and their utter death to themselves. The stories of these heroes of the faith need to be reintroduced to our young people of today, who God help us, are more familiar with the current Californian, white teeth teenaged idol, than any of these real giants. We are breeding pussy cats dear friends, pussy cats instead of lions, and when these cosseted little kittens finally do get older, all they will do is pea on their parents, eat processed salmon from a can and become incontinent on our carpet. At least they can sing a good song and play a mean guitar, I mean that’s got to count for something? The Christian education of our children needs some meat injecting into it that’s for sure!Secondly, the brutal method of their departure is so contrary to the very false promises which is so much spouted lately from our pulpits by Pastoral pussy cats wearing velvet collars with dangling silver bells. It seems to me, God help us, that these pussy cat silver balls are the only dangly bits that will ever be let near the testosterone free areas of our pulpits. Don’t you know that neutered males can NEVER enter the service of God! Yet there they are and friends, they can do nothing but lie to their congregations because they have already lied to themselves and sold themselves to softness!
Am I mad? Or is it really the Parididdle of the Paraclete I hear, as Drake’s drum beats once more? Or is it just my simple, wishful thinking, my desperate personal longing, to hear the roar of lions in our land once more?
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