By Rev. JOHN TALLACH.
“WHO built it, Isaiah?” My question was addressed to Isaiah, one of our native elders in Rhodesia. He had once resided at Ingwenya and now lived at Gwizani and my question referred to a school-room and meeting house, but newly erected. Along with his wife, Isaiah left Ingwenya about 1927, just shortly after he had been ordained to the eldership, and except that he had begun preaching among a very backward people, we had heard little of him. The time came when Isaiah sent a request. He wished us to visit him, and this we did. We found a fair crowd of people gathered under a tree and we were encouraged to propose regular work among them. They were willing to come under our care, and promised to erect a school-room and to attend church. Heathen promises are given readily enough, but often with a reservation. To them the reservation is of little importance, but to the missionary it is all important. It relates to time. “Yes, yes, we will build it all right, but we will do it in our own time.” And so it was in this case, and this was the reason for my question: “Who built it, Isaiah?” “Makumalo and myself built it,” was the answer. Now, Makumalo, Isaiah’s wife, is a somewhat heavily built woman and slow in her movements. As I looked at the two of them, I might be pardoned for being a just a little sceptical. “But these rafters, Isaiah, they look heavy, how could two persons, one of them a woman and both of them past their prime, put these heavy things in place?” “Oh, I nailed them together on the ground, then tied each with a piece of rope, climbed up and pulled while Makumalo pushed. After many efforts we got them in place. You see, the men took some poles and the women carried thatching grass, but that was all that was done. All the rest of the work was done by my wife and myself.”
That was Isaiah. As the natives say, “He gave both hands up to the elbows to anything he had in mind.” A slightly built man, stored up with suppressed energy, he was restless under any restraint. Even while listening in church, his face registered every motion fleeting across the surface of his inner man. He never waited for the Lord’s work to turn up, he went in search of it. Not only a congregation but a whole community came under his care, for he saw opportunity in almost everything that presented itself to him. If a heathen person were ill, Isaiah, as a matter of course, went and prayed and read with him; but usually he did more. “I think it would be good for you in your sickness to have a regular prayer-meeting at your kraal.” Of course, not even a heathen would find heart to turn down any proposal which sought the healing of his body. The prayers of the Christians might do some good after all! So away went Isaiah and gathered some church members and a regular prayer-meeting would be held. But as well as singing one cannot read the Bible to those who know it not, without some explanation of what is read. And so to the heathen, sick and well, the Gospel was preached.
I remember too, when Isaiah was troubled by Seventh Day Adventist preachers going secretly among his flock. The chief, a heathen, now nearly blind, had come to lean more and more on Isaiah, and sent for him. “What am I to do with these Adventist people? They are plaguing me for permission to open a school and to preach here. What would you suggest?” Clearly did Isaiah see a way of ridding himself and the community of this pest:—”Call a meeting of all the people next week, call the Seventh Day Adventist people too. Tell them we will hold a public debate. I will undertake to prove that the Presbyterian Church is the church of the Bible. Then you will put the matter to the vote. We will stand by the verdict of the people.” Of course, many or most knew nothing of the Scriptural position of any church, and would be but poor judges in any such debate. But Isaiah knew that he had not only a good Scriptural position to maintain, but that he himself stood for something in the community. So things went as he expected. The debate lasted nearly the whole day, and when a show of hands was taken, the S.D.A. people lost the vote. They were now told by the chief that the people did not want them and that they would require to move on.
Yet he had his enemies, but he feared none of them. “I fear no man, my only fear is that men will not fear me,” he confided in me one day. No one could imagine Isaiah being afraid of man or beast. Often when beer-drinking and drunkenness would become too prevalent in the district, Isaiah cycled down the 32 miles to the Native Commissioner’s office and reported the matter. Nor would he return until a native policeman went with him. On arrival at Gwizani, the policeman went round the kraals, said nothing but did much. Each tin and pot of beer was tipped and the contents poured over the ground. Meantime, Isaiah would be peaceably sleeping off the effects of his 64 mile run. By some of these law-breakers he was well hated, but it was for the best of causes and unpopularity in a good cause sat very lightly upon him.
As time went on there was a good school and a body of about 25 members at Gwizani, and so we had to visit Isaiah’s home more often, and many were the long and interesting talks we had together. Isaiah was a pure-blooded Matabele and belonged to one of their best families. He waged war on the entry of impurities into his language. He was full of Zulu and even Bantu lore, and had quite a pride in his tribe and clan. Under the last Matabele king, Isaiah had fought in one of the crack regiments, had opposed the British in the Rebellion and carried the scars of two British bullets on his legs. He would tell much of the old days, but always concluded:—”They were days of blood, uncertainty, witchcraft, wars and fear; now, under the white man, we are much better off. I thank the Lord for the law and order they have brought into our lives.” Even when, by an order of the Government, he had to leave Gwizani, and in his old age begin life anew in Shangani, and when others complained of their hard lot of having to build new homes, clear fresh ground and set up new fences, Isaiah had no complaint. “What the white people are making us do will be all for the best in the long run,” was his only comment. He was strong for his church and wherever he went, we might be sure of his support and help.
As a preacher he was all by himself. He copied no man. Yet he would freely take up a point from another man’s sermon (mentioning the name, of course) and expand the one point into a sermon of his own. One day he heard Dr. McDonald take up a watch as an illustration in the argument for design. With what glee did he take this up the next time I heard him preach. It was no mere point of illustration with him, under his alert mind and vivid imagination he soon made a complete sermon of it. I recollect, too, how on the Monday after an enjoyable communion at Gwizani and when the Action Sermon was on The Blood and its cleansing power, Isaiah got up after the service. As was his wont, on such occasions he referred to the services, and thanked the missionaries for coming. He then said: “To-day I am full, full of one subject, the subject is the blood that cleanseth from all sin; I am so full of it that you may expect me to preach on it first Sabbath, and the next and the next, and I make no apology. I am so full I can speak no more.” Here the dear man broke down and wept.
The last time I heard him preach, he dealt with the sin of covetousness, taking Gehazi for his text. He was a master of oratory after the native manner, and one recalls even now, how with voice, face and action, he moved on to the solemn climax. There was a number that day who wept unashamed. How he described in detail Gehazi’s running after and securing his ill-gotten gain and how he congratulated himself on the success of his plan. “And now what remains? I am a rich man. I will go and see Elisha. Likely the old man will have a few rough words to say as to my going without asking, but that will soon blow over. A few uncomfortable minutes, and then I can sit back and enjoy my riches.” “But look, friends, look at the end. He went out a leper white as snow. Did Naaman’s wealth save him from leprosy? What is the use of fine clothes for a rotting body. And remember that the place for lepers was outside the congregation. Are you a Christian, are you covetous, do you mourn it and fight it or do you encourage it? If you do, remember that while the preacher can give you only a few uncomfortable minutes in his sermon, God will deal differently with you. Beware of your end. Will God at the last pronounce you a leper and set you outside the congregation for eternity? Is that to be your end? Beware of the end, by fleeing covetousness now.”
As I have already indicated, Isaiah had to remove to Shangani. We heard that he had visited our people at Inkai, but he had left no word that he wished us to go on to his place. We understood the man however. He did not want us to visit him until all was ready. We went on, and found Isaiah busy finishing off a new school house, services were going on regularly and his school was ready for opening. We came away with Sesemba as a new station on our list, and with the hope that Isaiah would be spared to see yet another congregation gathered round his preaching. We also thought of the help he would prove to Mr. Fraser, soon to arrive among the Shangani people, but the Lord saw good to order it otherwise. He took Isaiah to be with Himself. Towards the end of last year, we received the sad news of his removal. The tongue which told out the riches of the Gospel in Inwenya, Morven, Induba, Gwizani and Sesemba was now employed before the throne. The song of the Lamb and of redeeming blood would be no new song, but the manner of singing it, and the place where it would be raised would be different indeed.
Isaiah was a man by himself. He copied no man and no person could copy him. A man with a personality as strong as his, could not have his faults hid, and Isaiah had his share of these. His pride of race often made him more than a little autocratic towards those of other tribes, but we were glad to notice a marked change in this as the years went on. To any who in his eyes were truly godly he always manifested a warm brotherliness whatever tribe they might have belonged to. But faults are now a thing of the past. A man born into gross heathen darkness; a man who lived in that darkness has gone out of this life, but he has not gone as a heathen. He has gone as a humble follower of the Lamb, a keen servant of the mission, an unwearied helper, and a gifted preacher—one for whom we shall feel thankful on every remembrance of him. We extend sincere sympathy to his widow and children, to our office-bearers on the mission field and to Mr. Fraser who looked forward to years of help and support from him.