John Urquhart, part 18: Who For Him Will Go?
Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. (Matthew 9:38)
“I am tired of arguing with the opponents of the missionary cause. It is my intention this evening to address myself to those who profess to be its friends.” —John Urquhart, April 1, 1826.
These short sentences were the abrupt opening to John’s final address to his beloved St. Andrew’s University Missionary Society. The approaching end of school meant he was one step nearer to his intended life’s work, but also one step nearer to a painful separation. For three years he and his friends had been a close-knit community, stirring each other up, evangelizing, praying, and waiting. But soon, this little circle would be broken. They could not at the same time go where they were being sent and maintain their daily fellowship. The mysteries of providence would soon scatter them, to meet again only in eternity.
The gravity of this could not have been lost on John as he sat down to write his speech. For several years he had considered the work of missions in foreign lands; he had labored through the Scriptures, the testimonies of other missionaries, and the objections of friends and family. This address would be the capstone of all that he had learned. Since—in spite of all of his studies—he did not take a degree from St. Andrews, his final appeal to the society would serve as part valedictorian speech, part farewell address, and part call to arms.
Alexander Duff, who was there that night, said that John’s crisp introduction instantly captured the attention of his hearers. Then, having begun, John briefly reiterated how hollow were the arguments of those opposed to missionary endeavors. He then moved into his first main point—foreign missions was not a job only for a special class of Christians. He was bothered by the fact that many had joined the missionary society movement who never had plans of anything more than raising funds and sitting in committee meetings. He said, “One cannot help being amazed, that of the many who have pleaded so earnestly for the cause of missions, and have spoken so eloquently of the high dignity of the missionary enterprise, so few have been found who were willing to go forth to the combat.” Missions, according to the Bible, was to be done by qualified and trained ordinary Christians. John challenged his hearers by reminding them that they had understood the situation well enough to join the society, so they could not claim to be ignorant about the need. He told them that once they were “in,” they couldn’t be in just part way. While this did not mean that everyone should go, it certainly meant that all of his hearers should consider going, for it was almost certain that God intended for some of them to do so.
He was glad that societies were growing and that so much money was coming in to them. But he recognized that it had become fashionable to join these groups, and that even though money was coming in, it was not the primary goal. To demonstrate his point, he compared missions to a machine; in that machine, money is the source of power, but men are the mechanisms that actually do the work. “It may be the main-spring of the machine, but it is not the machine itself. The agents, who go forth to the work, are the effective part of the mechanism. And what use is it, if we have obtained a good moving power, if there is no machine to set it in motion?” Decades before, there had been a great start to the missions movement, but enough time had passed to show that it came with dangers, frustrations, and a scarcity of visible fruit. These hard realities were keeping many from applying as missionaries; now the various societies existed as institutions, but there was a labor shortage— “The Scottish Missionary Society is in need of labourers; the London Missionary Society is in need of labourers; the Church Missionary Society (to the shame of the churchmen of England be it told) have for some time been compelled to gather the missionaries, whom they send forth, from the other countries of Europe.”
Why is it, John asked, that as soon as a person well-known for missionary zeal is asked if he has plans to go, a thousand excuses suddenly enter his mind? He was convinced the greatest argument for going came from the last instruction of Jesus, when he told his disciples to “Go and teach the nations.” But time and again he had heard it objected that there was a great need in England, and few could be spared from it to be sent to other countries. His answer to this was to argue that the entire world was one large harvest field, and that all laborers were simply working in different parts of it. If that is the case, he wondered, why are so many laborers packed into one part of the vineyard, while other areas have no workers? Throughout the remainder of his address, he raised the common objections to personal involvement, and one-by-one he dismantled them and showed them to simply be the justifications for disobedience that they often were.
After nearly an hour, he brought his words to a powerful and effective close, and included the news that he himself had decided to answer the call—
I have tried to set before you the present state of the missionary cause, and the loud call which there is for efficient labourers. I have stated to you the great argument, that the world is one field, and that our Saviour's command is not fulfilled, so long as the distribution of his ministers over this field is so very unequal. And, finally, I have tried to answer some of the objections that are made to personal involvement in the work.
The matter, some time ago, presented itself very forcibly to my own mind, and I felt that it at least demanded my serious consideration. As I have thought deeply on the subject, the difficulties seemed to have grown in size, but the convictions of duty have grown stronger too. The arguments for my own personal involvement, seem to me to have acquired the strength of a sure word from the Lord. I have, therefore, resolved, with the help of God, to devote my life to the cause; the only thing I have left to say is to solemnly charge every one of you, who are looking forward to the ministry of Christ, to take this matter into most serious consideration.
Some of you may think that I have not satisfactorily answered the objections which may be urged against personally engaging in the work, and other objections may possibly present themselves to some of you. But I ask you, to seriously examine whether a lack of devotedness to God, and a secret love of the world is actually lurking under these objections,. Why is it that there is such competition for pastoral positions in our own land, where a comfortable salary comes with the preaching of the gospel? And why is it that the love of country can be overcome, whenever any worldly advantage is to be gained? But when the gospel is to be preached where there is no reward, other than the reward of winning souls to Christ; and no honour, but the honour that cometh from God; there alone the ranks of the labourers are thin, and there needs can only be met with difficulty. I am not trying to impugn your motives.
Do not think I wish to press you into this service. It is a proverb, which much experience has taught the Moravians, never to persuade any man to become a missionary. I have laid the matter before you, and I leave it with your own conscience, as you soon must answer before God.
I have the happiness to mention to you, that your respected secretary, of last year, has given himself to the work; and I know that there are some present who have felt the urgency of the call.
I am not without the hope, that even from this unnoticed association, a little band of devoted labourers may be raised up, who shall carry the name of their Saviour to the ends of the earth, and shall meet in another world, to receive that high reward, which is reserved for those who have left father, and mother, and sister, and brother, and houses, and lands for Christ's sake, and the gospel's.
His last paragraph was more prophetic than he could have dreamed. Decades later, after many years of mission work in India, Alexander Duff thought back on the intense atmosphere in the room that night. He said that the effect of John’s message—with his eyes “glowing with the fire of wistful longing” and voice moved by an overfilled heart—was overwhelming. “For a moment, it appeared as if all present were ready to rise up and march forth as a united phalanx into the battle-field; and few there were who did not then at least resolve to submit the subject to an examination with which it had never been honoured before; while of some, it can be added that they did not pause till they found themselves across oceans and continents, in front of the bristling hosts and frowning citadels of heathenism.”
Those words from Duff gave me chills when I first read them. I could sense in a small measure just how energizing the speech had been. The remaining nine months of John’s life would find him often discouraged, lonely, and in failing health. This final night at the missionary society was the zenith of John’s short life, the climax of his labors. We can only guess at the numbers of people who have already spent a happy century and more in the presence of their Savior and in the presence of John Urquhart, whose message that night was used by God to raise up John’s dream of a little band of devoted labourers who carried the name of their Saviour to the ends of the earth, and have since met in another world.
You can read the entire text of his address here. His words are powerful and convicting.
