not by might or power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord. Welcome back to the Hackberry House, a daily podcast devoted to the Word of God and the persecuted church of North Korea. I'm Bob and this is podcast number 244. It's August 11, 2015. Today we go to chapter 4 of By My Spirit by Jonathan Goforth, we're continuing the story of the revival that began in Manchuria over a century ago by one who saw it happen. Here's Goforth. Shortly after my arrival at Kuangning, one of the missionaries said to me, reports have come to us of the meetings at Mukden and Liaoyang. I thought I'd better tell you right at the beginning that you need not expect similar results here. We're hard-headed Presbyterians from the north of Ireland at this place, and our people take after us. Even our leaders won't pray unless you ask them to individually. As for women praying, that's quite unheard of." But I never ask anyone to pray, I replied. I only expect a man to pray as the Lord moves him. Very well, said the missionary. Be prepared for a Quaker's meeting. Well, the following morning, after I had given my address, I said to the people, Please, let's not have any of your ordinary kind of praying. If there are any prayers which you've got off by heart and which you've used for years, just lay them aside. We haven't any time for them. But if the Spirit of God so moves you that you feel you simply must give utterance to what's in your heart, then do not hesitate. We have time for that kind of praying. Now the meeting is open for prayer." Immediately, eight men and women got up, one right after the other, and prayed. The missionaries were astounded. They confessed they had never seen anything like it. After the evening address, that same day over twenty men and women followed one another in prayer. The next day even the schoolboys and schoolgirls were taking part. On the third day the eagerness to pray was so strong that no one could get started unless he began his prayer before the one preceding him had said Amen. Once a lady missionary whispered to me, ìThe men are praying so rapidly that the women canít open their mouths. Wonít you tell them to hold back for a little while and give the women a chance?î I replied that at the close of every address I, as far as possible, committed the control of the meeting to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and therefore I didnít feel justified in interfering. Presently, however, a woman did get started, and for fifteen minutes or so the men had to hold their peace. After one such meeting, a visiting missionary was heard to remark, I've never heard such praying as that before. Why, it just seemed as if it had suddenly dawned upon those people that a way of access had been opened to the throne of grace, and they were eager to get in all their confessions and petitions before the day was closed. After the evening meeting, on the third day, a few of us missionaries were conversing together. I can't understand how it is, said one, that our Chinese leaders are so silent these days. So far all the praying has been done by the ordinary church members. In the prayer meetings that were held before Mr. Goforth came, the leaders didn't hold back at all. Why, then, should they be so silent now?" Well, I think you can count upon it, I said, that there's a hindrance among your leaders. It's sin that makes them dumb." Immediately, one of the lady missionaries took me up. Oh, come now, Mr. Goforth, she said. You surely don't expect us to believe that there are such sinners among our leaders as there were at Mukden and Liaoyang. Why, we would be ashamed of ourselves if there were. On the fourth day, we began the afternoon meeting about four o'clock. Following any address, or my address, the same deep intensity in prayer became evident. After prayer continued for about half an hour, a strange thing happened. More than half the congregation went down on their knees. Strange, I say, because it was a Presbyterian church, and the people had always been accustomed to stand while praying. Feeling, however, that it was the direction of the Spirit, I intimated that they might all go down on their knees if they wished, and they did. Then an elder stood up and said to another elder, who was seated on the platform, In the session meetings, it was always my bad temper that was the cause of trouble. Please forgive me. And the elder who was thus addressed cried back, Please don't say any more. I'm just as much at fault as you are. It's you who should forgive me. A few minutes of silence followed, and then a man rose from his knees and in a clear voice, though he was bordering on tears, began to pray. For several days I had been taking note of the man, although I did not know who he was. He had a strong, intelligent face, upon which anxiety was plainly written. Oh God, he cried, you know what my position is, a preacher. When I came to these meetings I determined that, come what would, I would keep my sins covered up. I knew that if I confessed my sins it would bring disgrace not only upon myself, but upon my family and my church, but I can't keep it hidden any longer. I have committed adultery. But that is not all. In one of the outstations, a deacon committed a horrible sin which hindered thy cause. My plain duty was to report the affair to the missionary, but the deacon bought me a fur garment, and I accepted it, and it sealed my lips. But I can't wear it any longer, and with that, he tore off the garment and flung it from him as if it had been the plague. Then he continued to pray with glowing intensity until the whole audience was swept as by fire. Even the smallest children began to cry out for mercy. The meeting did not break up until ten o'clock that night, having lasted six full hours. At this meeting there was an unusually large number of outsiders, their curiosity doubtless having been aroused by the strange rumors that were current throughout the district. As their numbers kept increasing, Mr. H. became alarmed and herded them together near the door, so that if they got obstreperous, he could rush them out. But his fears were groundless, for no sooner had the movement begun among the Christians than they, too, came under conviction, got down on their knees, and began crying for mercy. Another remarkable thing about the movement on that memorable evening was the way in which conviction came over certain Christians who, for some reason or other, were not able to attend the meeting. Among these was a prominent member of the session, the governing body. About the time when the movement in the church was at its height, this elder began to suffer intense pain, so much so, in fact, that he became convinced he was going to die. And as he lay on his bed, writhing in his agony, his deadened conscience was stirred, and he was reminded of the time when he had been overseeing the building of the street chapel. There were so many pieces of timber and so much brick and other material which he had coveted, which he had used in the construction of his own house. Not being able to write himself, the wretched man had his son make a list of the things which he had stolen, and he made the young man promise that he would read the confession aloud to the congregation on the following day. Next morning, however, the elder was better. Courageously, he went himself and gave his confession, creating a deep impression upon the whole church. After the meeting, bands of revived Christians toured the surrounding country. At every outstation that was visited, except one, a deep spiritual movement resulted. When the bands returned to the city, this particular place was made the occasion for special prayer. And then another band was sent to the village, and a movement set on foot which quite eclipsed anything which had been seen in any of the other outstations. In a village not far from Kuang-Ning, there was a young fellow who enjoyed a peculiarly notorious reputation. His father was a Christian, which fact served but to emphasize the scandal of his own life, and not to mention his other nefarious activities. He was associated with a company of bandits who made of his home a sort of headquarters where plans could be discussed and loot divided. Rumors of this finally reached the ears of the local Mandarin, who had the young fellow seized and put under torture in order to extract a confession from him. Many forms of torture were resorted to, but to no avail. He would reveal nothing. At last, in despair, the Mandarin invited one of the missionaries to try and see what he could do. The missionary pleaded and argued with the man, but still he refused to open his mouth. His courage, in the face of what he suffered at the hands of the authorities, was remarkable. Go ahead and kill me, he would say to the Mandarin, but you needn't think you can make me speak. You've got a spite against me because my father's a Christian. That's your only excuse for arresting me." So impressed was the Mandarin by the bold stand taken by the young fellow that he began to doubt whether, after all, he was really guilty. At any rate, he decided to let him go. Not long afterwards, a revival band from Quang Ninh visited the district. After much coaxing, the young desperado was induced to attend one of the meetings. He came under conviction, and stood up before his fellow villagers and confessed everything. Then he went to Mr. H., who was in charge of the band, and begged that he might be allowed to accompany him from place to place and tell his story. Mr. H. confessed to me later that he was a trifle dubious at first about accepting the man, so notorious had been his reputation, but finally he agreed to take him on. And certainly he had no reason to regret his decision. The young ex-bandit became the life of the band. Everyone who heard his testimony seemed to be moved. From the very first meeting at Chin Chow, a movement began to develop. There was the same intense prayer spirit, the same anxiety to get rid of hindering sin which had been so marked at the other stations. On the morning of the third day I received an anonymous letter in which the request was made that we should have special public prayer for a preacher and his wife, their names being mentioned, who, by their violent quarreling, were hindering the work at one of the mission's most important outstations. My informant mentioned also a prominent deacon and his brother, who, through the same fault, had brought the work at another station to a standstill. Emphasis was laid upon the gravity of the matter, it being pointed out that, whereas many of the ordinary church members had broken down and confessed, the leaders were still holding studiously aloof. My correspondent concluded with the suggestion that I should mention the offending ones by name, so that general intercession could be made for them. While I was glad, in a way, to have some idea of where the hindrance lay, Yet I realized, of course, that to follow out the suggestion mooted in the letter would be a serious blunder. I had committed the movement to the control of the Holy Spirit. It was not for me to interfere. Immediately after my address that afternoon, a man arose and offered up a heartbroken prayer of confession. It was his temper, he declared, which had estranged him from God. So violent was it, he said, that his wife didn't dare live in the same room with him. This was the preacher concerning whom my anonymous correspondent appeared to have such anxiety. As soon as the meetings were over, the repentant leader went back home and made things right with his wife. And not long afterwards, I am told, a revival broke out at his station. Scarcely had the preacher ended his confession when another arose and declared that his temper was so vile that it was impossible for his own brother to get along with him. He had tried, he said, to manage his brother with force and anger rather than with love. At that a young man came running from another part of the church and threw himself down at the other's feet, weeping and begging for forgiveness. It was the deacon and his brother. I will just mention one other incident. Several months before my arrival at Chinchow, the lady doctor at the Mission Hospital had suddenly awakened to the realization that a considerable quantity of valuable medicine was disappearing, so to speak, right under her very nose. She called in her assistant, and pointing to the room where the medicine was kept, she said, You and I are the only ones who have charge of the key to that room. A lot of medicine is missing. Have you any explanation to offer? What? cried the girl, becoming greatly incensed. You accuse me of being a thief? And she left the mission. giving the impression that her proud spirit could not brook the injustice which had been done to her. The facts of the rather sordid story soon became known. It appeared that the girl had stolen the medicine under pressure exerted by her father, an old backslidden Christian and a doctor of some note in the city. The man had attracted considerable patronage to himself by advertising throughout the city that he dealt only in expensive foreign medicines. Each day, during the meetings, a message was sent to the girl, inviting her to come and saying that her friends were constantly remembering her in prayer. But it was not till the last day that she finally put in an appearance. She was pointed out to me at the forenoon meeting. Immediately I was impressed by her fine appearance and by the strength of character so evident in her face. She could not have been more than twenty. All through the service she sat rigidly in her seat with a defiant look on her face, As much as to say I have a will of my own, say what you will, I have nothing to confess. At the noon hour, the missionaries offered up special prayer that the Lord would bring the girl back to the afternoon meeting. She was sitting in the front row when I arrived to open the service. About halfway through my address, her head went down and the tears began to flow. In the open session for prayer that followed my address, the men completely monopolized the floor. Feeling that this girl simply must be given a chance to get rid of the burden which so plainly was weighing upon her, I announced a hymn. At its close, I said to the men, do be patient, brethren, and let the women have an opportunity to pray for a little while. Then this young woman stood up and faced the congregation and said, I have much to confess, but I'm not worthy to make my confession standing up. I must kneel. So she knelt down on the platform and poured out the whole miserable story. About two months later, I learned of her death. Some internal malady had been sapping her lifeblood and had finally carried her away. What a tragedy might it have been if this young woman had resisted the Spirit of God and gone to meet Him with an unpardoned sin. We'll leave it there for today and finish that chapter up next time, which I hope will be tomorrow. I want to remind everyone that there is a break coming in the action here with Hackberry House's podcast on Monday of next week, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. We will not be having a podcast as I take a short break. I do hope you'll join me soon after that on Friday. And don't forget what we began with today, Zechariah 4, verse 6, not by might, not by power, but by my spirit. says the Lord.