November 5. John G. Paton. Two weeks after John married Mary, the young couple headed for the mission field—an island full of people who carried spears, wore only paint, and sometimes dined on their fellow islanders. On this date in 1858, John arrived on Tanna, a New Hebrides Island.
Some months later, John and Mary had a son. Within another month, mother and baby were dead. For four years, John lived and worked among the savages, who hated him. Except for one old chief.
In time, John remarried. While he was building his house, he needed some nails and some small tools. So he found a flat chip of wood, scribbled some words on it, and asked the old chief to take it to Mrs. Paton. Which the chief did.
The old chief saw Mrs. Paton look at the woodchip and then fetch exactly the items the Chief knew John needed. Chief was flabbergasted. After that, the more good works he saw John do, the more interested he was in what John had to teach.
Fifty years later, famous pastor Charles H. Spurgeon called John the “king of the savages.” Here’s John’s story.
Constant fear can tear a man down, or it can lead him to trust God.
John gathered the medical supplies needed to treat Ian, the great Island Chief. Today’s mission of mercy could be a mission of mercy—or it could be another trap. The native factions were constantly at war. And they often blamed John—and “the Worship”—for their problems. They had often threatened to kill him, to cook his flesh, and to take a serving to every village on Tanna.
The people of Tanna, an island near Australia, had no concept of a merciful God. They murdered infants and widows. No discrimination there. And their threat to cook him was not idle talk. When they invited a man to dinner, he might end up on the menu.
Chief Ian’s home was four miles away. So John strode down the footpath through the thick vegetation, and sweat ran down his spine. At Ian’s village, too many people milled about. Something wasn’t quite right.
Had he been set-up? Again? But Ian appeared to be dying, so John entered the hut and prayed with him.
But then it was too quiet. He looked outside; the whole village had emptied. This could not be good.
“Come near me and sit by my bedside to talk with me, Missi,” Ian said.
John would do the job he had come to do. He sat by the bed.
Ian lay still and silent.
John spoke to him gently. But a sudden flash of a blade thrust next to John’s heart and stopped him mid-sentence.
He didn’t dare move—or speak. John was so afraid that his vision blanked out for a moment. Silently he cried out to God to spare him—or take him for God’s glory.
Suddenly Ian wheeled the knife around and plunged it into a sugar-cane leaf. “Go! Go quickly!” he yelled.
John sneaked out of the hut and away from the village. Once he reached the dense part of the forest, he ran for his life—the whole four miles back home.
That night—as had become his habit—John didn’t undress before he climbed into bed. He never knew what he would face in the night or early morning hours. If his faithful dog gave a sharp bark, John would be ready.
The oppressive heat felt heavier than usual, and John replayed the scary events of the day—only one incident of many. A while back, a wild chief had pointed a loaded musket at him while John worked. John had spoken kindly to the man and continued his chores. The chief—with his musket mostly aimed at John—followed him around for four hours.
John clung to the belief that he would be “immortal” until his work on the island was finished. His dear Father was “too wise and loving to err” in anything that He “did or permitted.” But sometimes John wondered how love and peace could find its way into the deeply ingrained, violent culture on this island. John tossed on his bed.
There was power in the risen Christ—the power of an endless life. And natives on a neighboring island had come to faith. John would look to the Lord and struggle on. After all, Jesus had made a promise right after telling his disciples to take the gospel to the whole world.
“Teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20 NASB).
“Precious promise!” thought John. “Oh, how I adore Jesus for it!” Calm washed over him. “God was near.” God was good. God had the power “to do what seemed best in his sight.” John rolled over. “Lo, I am with you always,” John thought. Feeling that Jesus—with all his power—was actually there in the hut with him, John slept.
What gives you strength to face your fears? Constant fear can tear a man down, or it can lead him to trust God.
Patton, James. The Story of John G. Patton. New York: A. L. Burt Company Publishers, 1892. E-text by Carl D. DuBois. Accessed August 5, 2020. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/28025/28025-h/28025-h.htm.
Paton, John G. John G. Paton: Missionary to the New Hebrides, An Autobiography, edited by James Paton. New York: Fleming H. Revell, 1889. E-text accessed August 11, 2020. Volume One: http://www.archive.org/stream/johngpatonmissio188901pato#mode/2up. Volume Two: http://www.archive.org/stream/johngpatonmissio188902pato#page/n4/mode/2up. Volume Three: http://www.archive.org/stream/johngpatonmissio03pato#page/n6/mode/2up.
“John G. Paton.” Banner of Truth. Accessed August 5, 2020. https://banneroftruth.org/us/about/banner-authors/john-g-paton.
Piper, John. John G. Paton: You will be Eaten By Cannibals! Minneapolis: Desiring God Foundation, 2012. E-text accessed August 11, 2020. https://document.desiringgod.org/john-g-paton-en.pdf?ts=1446647644.
Story read by: Peter R Warren, https://www.peterwarrenministries.com/
Story written by: Paula Moldenhauer, http://paulamoldenhauer.com/
