Practical Talents in Mission Service

Sitting astride father's big threshing ma­chine, at the age of ten, studying a steam engineer's manual, I never dreamed that the things I was learning then would be of utmost value to me years later in a mission field. Through the years, I studied steam, gas, electrical and telephone engineering because I loved it, not from any thought that every talent improved and every lesson learned would later be put to good use in the mis­sion field, and that one would be greatly handi­capped without such practical knowledge. After nineteen years of mission work, I look back on the many activities carried on, and I can truthfully say that no matter what we may study, no matter what craft we may learn, it will all be very helpful, especially where the work is new and not as yet established.

Coming to Alaska in 1929, I felt utterly helpless. Everything was new—climate, peo­ple, means of travel, methods of labor. There was no mission organization, and how thank­ful I was that I had had a few years of executive experience, and therefore would be able to start things organizationally in harmony with denominational practice. The next thing was to interest the public in our, message. One newspaper editor told me that no evangelist ever held a crowd over ten days in Alaska. How should I proceed? How could I secure the interest and confidence of the people, and convince them that I had something for them and that, unlike others, I was not in Alaska "to get gold and get out"? After a survey, I was convinced that the health "entering wedge" must be brought into play. I tried for years to get doctors to come to Alaska, and after nine years I am still waiting.

Here, people in need will not come to you. You must go to them. But how? Water is the only means of travel along the thousands of miles of Alaska's coast line. Large steam­ers stop only at seven of the larger towns. Fares are prohibitive and service infrequent on the small mail boats that reach smaller villages. Hotels, as such, in these smaller places do not exist. We must therefore have a boat. But there were no funds. So I sold my home in Vancouver and another house in Minnesota, and used the $5,5oo thus obtained to rebuild a boat and equip it for medical welfare work. Besides money, it took a knowledge of boats and their construction.

I had operated small power boats and sail­boats as a lad, and was thankful for the small help this gave; but I wished I had had more experience in that line. When it came to in­stalling the big Diesel engine and operating it, I was at home. The same was true when it came to installing the electric lighting system, the radio transmitter, and the photoelectric steering. The automatic steering device would save one man's wages. I enjoyed the work, and was thankful that I could save hundreds of dollars in this way.

Navigation was, however, almost new to me. I had to learn it in order safely to navigate the boat in dangerous waters and among the thousands of islands. When all was in opera­tion, I wished a thousand times over that I had had medical training. However, I was thankful for the "health reform" teachings of this people through the years. I did my best to set forth right principles in the treatment of the sick, to enlighten the people in regard to sanitation and diet, and to teach them cheer­fulness and faith in the divine Healer.

In a mission field, there are not enough funds to hire everything done. Churches must be built. My experience in building log houses in Minnesota in 1900 was invaluable to me in erecting log churches in Alaska in 1937. In a mission field we cannot be specialists—unless it is to be a specialist in everything that per­tains to work. Of course there is such a thing as being a "Jack of all trades and master of none." I have felt somewhat like that about my activities here in Alaska, but I have never for one moment regretted the time spent in studying engineering, mechanics, electricity, radio, navigation, building, drafting, diet, and sanitation.

In emphasizing the usefulness of practical knowledge of trades I do not mean to de­preciate the importance of the regular and full college courses of studies. Their im­portance goes without saying. But what I wish to impress upon the minds of our younger men—and women, too—is that time spent in studying various trades and lines is not time wasted. Skill in any trade is an accomplish­ment that will make you much more valuable to the cause of God wherever you are called to work for Him. Especially is this true if you are called to a mission field.

And now I am afraid that what I have written may sound boastful. But I do not mean it that way. Rather, I am sorry that I wasted so many hours in my boyhood days that should have been spent in diligent study. I know that I have come far short of the stand­ard God has set for us all in intellectual ac­complishment. I would urge our theological students and younger workers to more faithful study of the practical subjects that are not always stressed as being important. The higher learning is very needful, but I believe that it must be supported and buttressed by much practical knowledge in nonliterary lines as well. Jesus was the perfect workman. He learned lessons in the carpenter shop that made Him the master builder. He knew the way of the fowls of the air, the fish of the sea, the clouds, the weather, farming, sheep-herding, and healing, and had a perfect knowl­edge of the Scriptures and history as well.

Many times we find that matters which seem of no importance in the homeland become of much importance in the mission field. For instance, here in Alaska we have believers and various interests that can be reached by mail but three times a year. Shortwave amateur radio has therefore become a necessity be­tween the mission office and these Eskimo churches. Last evening I received a message by amateur radio, telling of the death of one of our Eskimo believers at Pilot Point. Orders for Sabbath school and church supplies are given by radio, and many communications are carried on by this means. This is doubly im­portant when strikes on steamship lines inter­rupt communications.

I trust that nothing I have written will cause any to place one whit less emphasis on the development of learning along accepted lines. But I also trust that many will be encouraged to develop the practical talents so useful on mission frontiers.