# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1932_S119
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

THE LUTHERAN PIONEER

117

ment’s hesitation came the old Negro Christian’s
answer: “Because I can get to heaven just as little
because of my faith as I can because of my praying
and churchgoing.” The pastor asked once more:
“Why not?” “Because I should in that case want
to earn something with my faith and so would set
aside and ignore the merits of Christ.” “How,
then, does faith justify? What does faith profit?”
asked the writer. Promptly the answer came: “It
takes hold of the merits of Jesus, just as my hands
take hold of your hand” (and in saying this his
huge hands held fast my hand). “It depends wholly
on Christ and says: —

“Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness

My beauty are, my glorious dress;

Midst flaming worlds in these arrayed,

With joy shall I lift up my head.”

At another time he asked the writer: “Do you
know why God still lets me live?” “Why?” “To
plague the devil,” was his answer. “How so?” He
said: “Well, you know, since I can no longer work,
the church pays my rent. Now, did you not notice
in the meeting last night how it hurts the devil
to see the church pay my rent?”

We had had a congregational meeting the eve-
ning before, and when Uncle Jarvis gave expression
to his opinion and spoke a little longer than some
thought necessary, one of the deacons gave expres-
sion to the thought that some members had thore
to say than to pay. Instead of getting angry with
the deacon for this very uncharitable remark, as
most people would have done, Uncle Jarvis only
thought of how it must displease the devil to see
the congregation pay his rent.

The writer met Uncle Jarvis about six years
before his death. At the time he was a patient in
the Charity Hospital, having had his right leg
amputated several weeks before the meeting. At
the time of the meeting he had been up only a few
days and was sitting in a chair, his Bible lying on
the bed at his side, and in his hand he held his
hymn-book and read the hymn “What Our Father
Does Is Well.”

The words of this precious hymn had a special
value and comfort for Uncle Hannibal just at that
time, for besides losing his limb, he had also lost
his wife, a faithful Christian, a few weeks before.
While she was bandaging his leg —it was before
its amputation — and comforting him with God’s
Word, she was suddenly stricken with apoplexy and
fell down dead at his feet. Since he was quite
helpless, he had to sit and wait till people came
in answer to his loud calls.. This was a hard blow

for the aged Christian; however, God so comforted
him that he could say not only with his lips, but
also with his heart: “What our Father does is
well.”

After his release from the hospital he went to
live with an old friend, Mrs. Hardy, till she moved
away. After that he lived in a small room, for
which the church paid the rent. His meals he
usually got at the homes of members, but some-
times he went a whole day without a meal; for if
it so happened that he would get to a house where
the people had already eaten, he would not permit
them to go to any extra trouble on his account.
One afternoon he came to his pastor’s house, who
asked him whether he had had his dinner. His
answer was that he had not had his dinner, but he
quickly added that he wasn’t so very hungry and
could stand it. till supper. When pressed to tell
when he had last eaten, he admitted that he had
had nothing to eat since the evening before. His
pastor had to use gentle force to make him eat.

Here is a little incident to show Uncle Han-
nibal’s trust in God. It was in the mid-week ser-
vice, and we were lifting a collection for a poor
member who had lost her husband and was in great
need. Uncle Jarvis also came up with the help of
his crutch and laid ten cents on the table. Upon
being asked where he had got the money, he said
that a man had given it to him to buy some smoking
tobacco; but since he still had enough tobacco to:
do him for a day, he felt that he would get more
money before he needed it to buy a new supply of
tobacco. The pastor told him to keep the money.
His answer was: “No; the widow gave of her
poverty all she had; why shouldn’t I give this dime
of my abundance?” He insisted upon giving the
dime. The next morning somebody rang the pas-
tor’s door-bell. When he got to the door, there
stood Uncle Jarvis with a broad grin on his face.
Upon being asked to come in, he said he had only
come to show his pastor something. While saying
this, he drew a package of tobacco out of his coat-
pocket and a quarter out of his vest-pocket. As he
held them up, he cried, “Do you see?” “Where
did you get the tobacco and money?” asked his
astonished pastor. “From God,” said the old Chris-
tian. “He gave me the tobacco through a good
white friend, and the quarter He let me find this
morning on my door-step.”

This earth never saw a more regular church
attendant than was Hannibal Jarvis. During all
the time the writer knew him he missed services