# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1929_S9
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

THE LUTHERAN PIONEER.

No}

ing the ground already won, but I do not favor any
forward movement. My song is “Hold the fort!”
forgetting that the Lord never intended that His
army should take refuge in a fort. All of His sol-
diers are under marching orders always. They are
commanded to “Go!”

4. If I advance my offering beyond former years,
then I favor an advance movement in the conquest
of new territory for Christ. Shall I not join this
class ?

?esolved, I do believe in greatly increasing the
present number of our therefore
I will increase my former offerings to missionary
work.

missionaries ;

What We Saw and Heard.

“What a horribly dirty place!” said one member
We had come to see another “sacred”
city of ‘the Hindus. I heartily agreed with the
speaker.

The roads were narrow, and they were very
badly broken up. Sanitation of any description
was conspicuous by its absence. The drains were
used for purposes for which they were never in-
tended. And over everything lay a thick covering
of dust.

Huge, fat Brahminy bulls wandered free, steal-
ing from the grain or vegetable stalls spread on the
ground. Hundreds of monkeys were everywhere
on houses, trees, and roads. These monkeys are
fiendishly cunning, stealing not only food, but also
items of clothing and brass vessels. Most houses
were entirely surrounded by wire-netting to keep
the monkeys out.

And then the temples! Hundreds and yet more
hundreds of temples and shrines. Huge, lovely
buildings they were, perfect structures, beautiful,
with exquisite carvings, while in front were gorgeous
gardens. And inside the temples, where, of course,
we could not put our foot, were women, women,
and yet more women everywhere, with weary, dust-
covered feet, unprotected by shoes. How many long
miles have you trod to come here? And for what?

Most of the women had babies astride of their
hips. There were scores of widows, some mere
children, with their shaven heads and plain attire.

As I looked, a thought entered my heart. If
a picture could be made of these women, it should
be called “Misplaced Faith,” for on each tired face
I read a kind of faith and knew that it was truly
misplaced.

As evening shadows fell, we breathed more

of our party.

freely. The burning, blinding sun had sunk in
regal splendor, and now cool little breezes came
across the Ganges, and darkness kindly threw its
mantle over all.

As myriads of little lamps sprung up all over
the city, scores of bells from all sides rang out for
the evening worship. At one temple all the widows
were chanting the names of the gods to the sounding
of cymbals.

As night fell, we were in the heart of the over-

A Village Street in India.

crowded city, surrounded on all sides by temples,
and I wondered if God Himself could find His way
into this veritable fortress, where everything alien
to Him and His love is known and taught.

As if in answer to my thought a car nosed its
way through the narrow, dark street, the first car
I had seen that day. Out of it stepped a white
woman, obviously a missionary doctor, followed by
two Indian nurses. I followed their white uniforms

_as they disappeared down a black alley. In through

a shadowy doorway went the doctor to attend a very
sick woman. . .