No man has etched his name deeper into -"'" the history of the African subcontinent than Cecil Rhodes. Two great provinces are named after him, and numerous parks and other public places memorialize him. He died before he was fifty, having spent less than thirty years in the land of his adoption. But what he did in those years was overwhelming. Even Adventists have much for which to thank Cecil Rhodes. He gave us Solusi Mission.
When Rhodes left England he was young but ill, and Africa gave him back his health. But what he gave to Africa in return has filled volumes. His brilliance as a statesman and scholar is known throughout the world. Statues are erected to his honor in every African city from the Cape to the Congo. Though these works of art depict him in various attitudes, a visitor is impressed with the significant fact that every statue faces the same direction. Rhodes is always looking north.
It could not be otherwise, for this man of vision, whose audacious daring galvanized his generation into action—lived for one thing—the annexation of the great unconquered territories beyond. His northern gaze symbolizes his life's purpose. True, he made enemies. Anyone does who really dares. But whatever may be one's individual judgment of his politics or one's evaluation of his character, all recognize him as a man whose unshaken confidence in the future and untiring service to his fellow men have ,raven him deep in the heart of a continent. He became enormously wealthy, yet his immense riches were dedicated to his one great purpose. His estates, his mansions, his all, he bequeathed to the nation.
In this is a great lesson. Once a man catches a real vision, it is not difficult for him to dedicate his talent, his assets, and himself to a task. It is the natural outgrowth of his all-absorbing purpose. Nor will he stop to estimate his losses. His vision leads him onward to the place where even hardship becomes a privilege. It is just as true today as in the days of Solomon that "where there is no vision, the people perish." Vision is vital, for vision makes the man. Vision gives him reach and power. Vision shows him an engine in a kettle, a lighted city in a kite, a people in a multitude. Without vision life has no meaning; and service, even in the cause of God, can become drudgery.
Fellow laborers, where are our eyes? What is our vision ? The future of this movement is largely bound up with the vision of our ministry. It is easy to look around us and see much with which to content ourselves. Satisfied merely to hold what we have, we could easily give ourselves to the building up of churches and institutions, and we could just settle down to become another denomination. But to do that would be to defeat the whole divine purpose of this movement. It is altogether right for us to consolidate our home bases. However, such a plan could prove t6 be our peril. What of the unconquered territories, the great areas of earth still held in the grip of heathenism? What of the great rural sections even in civilized lands ? True, our colporteurs have been sowing seeds of truth, but what are we doing to harvest the results of their sowing ? Even in some parts of the United States it is possible to drive for hundreds of miles and find no Adventist church.
What of other lands ? Think not only of the great rural areas but also of giant cities like Paris, Athens, Calcutta, or even London—places where we are scarcely known ! Should not the conquest of new land, the annexation of new territory, dominate our planning? Only a church that lives by capture can hope to live at all. Evangelism must be our watchword. Northward must be our gaze. Someone has said of the man who is always looking backward, "All he gets is a pain in the neck." Advance or decay is our only choice. The pure conservative is fighting against the laws of the universe. To exist at all, we must move forward. True, we can thank God for what has already been done, but we gaze aghast at what must yet be accomplished.
Recently we stood on an eminence in the mountain region of the Belgian Congo, right on the line of the equator. Without moving a yard we counted sixty-three villages with varying populations of from two hundred to two thousand, scarcely one of which has even had a visit from our missionaries. That was but one tiny spot in a great continent.
"So much to do ; so little done," were the dying words of Rhodes. However, he had already laid the foundations of a great political structure. Well might we say, 'So much to do," as we think of such areas of earth as the Middle East, the Far East, India, South America, and Africa. We can rejoice that even in these lands the foundations of a great movement have already been laid. But the vision of what must yet be done should challenge us and galvanize us into action. These lands must be conquered for Christ. Lengthening our cords is just as important as strengthening our stakes.
Nor will the task be accomplished by mere slogans. To finish His work will require more than organization, more than money. Building bigger budgets is important, but building bigger vision is imperative. Only the anointed vision, which leads to the consecration of our every asset and the dedication of our every talent for the accomplishment of our overwhelming task, can thatch the demands of this mighty hour. We need the contribution of every worker and layman. No service is too small to play its part.
"A cup of cold water" in the Master's name is surely a tiny task ; but when the Saviour applied this simple method it led to the conversion of a wicked woman, and through her a city was brought to salvation. Simple contacts under God can become great occasions for spiritual conquests. Samaria was studiously avoided by the disciples, because they saw nothing but a problem. Yet this self-satisfied little land yielded a rich return when at last its doors were opened to the gospel by the Saviour Himself. In spite of national prejudice, and contrary to expectation, He discerned a harvest.
The scripture said, "He must needs go through Samaria." Of course He must, for His gaze was northward. A divine compulsion drove Him even to Samaria. And was it not in Samaria that He said, "Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields"? His command is just as pertinent to the leaders of His cause today. With so much to do and yet so little done, we surely need both vision and divine compulsion.
R. A. A.
