A young city missionary in Glasgow’s poorest streets, John Paton visited homes worn down by drink and despair. One family’s turnaround sparked growth—soon, overflowing Bible classes, singing classes, and prayer meetings filled a rescued old church building. Many in Glasgow refused to repent, but many others turned to Jesus, including one dying boy who longed only to hear about Jesus.
This is the fourth in a series of episodes from the life of John G. Paton, adapted from his autobiography for young readers.
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Before going to the Maryhill School, I had applied to be taken on as an agent in the Glasgow City Mission. And the night before I had to leave Maryhill, I received a letter from Rev. Thomas Caie, the superintendent of that mission. He was saying that the directors had kept their eyes on me ever since my application, and as they understood I was leaving the school, they requested that I would appear before them the next morning to have my qualifications for becoming a missionary examined. Praising God, I went off at once and passed the examination successfully! I was assigned to spend two hours that afternoon and the following Monday in visitation with two of the directors, visiting every house in a low district of the town and speaking with everyone I met there about their eternal well-being. I also had to preach a “trial” sermon on the following Sunday evening in a mission meeting before a group of directors. On Wednesday evening, they met again to hear their report and to either accept or reject me.
All this happened so unexpectedly that I feared failing. But looking to heaven for help, I passed my trial. The reports were so favorable that they decided unanimously and immediately to accept me as one of their city missionaries. I left that meeting praising God for all His undeserved mercies. I was seeing His gracious hand so clearly in all the ways by which He had led me, along with the trials by which He had prepared me for this ministry. Man proposes, God disposes.
The district was very degraded. Many families had never been visited by any minister. Many were formerly professing believers who had not attended church for ten, sixteen, or twenty years. Among them were many Roman Catholics, drunkards, and some who openly denied the faith, and they encouraged one another to evil. And there were no positive influences to counter those evils. In many alleys and courtyards, sin and wickedness were open and unashamed.
After nearly a year’s hard work, I had led only six or seven non-church-goers to begin attending church regularly. About the same number met on a weekday evening. That meeting was held on the first floor of a house that a poor and mistreated Irish woman kindly allowed us to use. She supported her family by operating a little shop and selling coals. Her husband was a powerful man—a good worker but a hard drinker. Like too many others addicted to alcohol, he abused and beat her. And he wasted their resources on drink. Through many prayers and tears, she endured everything patiently and aimed to bring up her only daughter in the fear of God. By God’s blessing, we had a good influence upon him through our meetings. He gave up his evil ways and attended church regularly with his wife. As his interest increased, he tried to bring others also to the meetings and urged them to likewise give up drinking. His wife became a source of help and a good influence in all the district as she kindly invited all and welcomed them to the meeting in her house. Every day, I began to be more hopeful about my work.
After a while, meetings and classes were both too large for any house that was available for us in the whole of our district. We started a Bible class, a singing class, a membership class, and a society encouraging people to give up alcohol. Besides the usual meetings, we opened two prayer meetings specifically for the Calton division of the Glasgow Police. One was at a suitable time for the men working during the day, and the other for those working during the night. The men started discipling one another and singing together. My work now took up every evening in the week, and I had two meetings every Sunday. By God’s blessing, they all succeeded. The Lord was working there for good through our humble ministry.
We were meeting in a hay-loft, and just around the time that the poor cowfeeder had to tell us that he would soon need it back, a spacious block of buildings, which had a church, schools, a minister’s home, and more, came up for sale. My kind and generous friend, the late Thomas Binnie, convinced Dr. Symington’s congregation, Great Hamilton Street, to purchase the whole property. Its location right by Green Street gave easy access to my whole district. And the church building was given to me to conduct all my meetings. The other halls were turned into schools for poor girls and boys, where they were educated by a proper teacher. And their books, clothing, and sometimes food were supplied by the ladies of the congregation.
Taking advantage of the new facilities, my work was now restructured. On Sunday morning at seven o’clock, I had one of the most deeply interesting and fruitful of all my Bible study classes. It was attended by nearly a hundred of the poorest young women and men of the whole district. They had only their work clothes: None had bonnets, and some didn’t even have shoes. Yet how wonderful it was to see them eagerly bringing others; they became deeply interested in all the ministry of the mission. And they brought others even poorer than they were! My delight in that Bible class was one of the purest joys in all my life. And its fruits were some of the most certain and precious of all my ministry.
I held classes nearly every night of the week for Bible reading, prayer, doctrinal instruction, singing, and fellowship. Many who were discipled through the mission became active and useful members of the surrounding congregations. There were even eight young lads of humble circumstances who educated themselves for the ministry of the church!
But I did have enemies. Drunkenness was the main cause of poverty, suffering, misery, and vice in that district of Glasgow, yet there were many Roman Catholics and irreligious people who gloried in their wickedness and in leading others astray.
One godless man became unwell and gradually sank under great suffering and agony. His outrageous blasphemies against God were well known. But his wife, a Roman Catholic, pled with me to visit him. She refused my suggestion that she call her own priest, so I visited the man. He refused to hear one word about spiritual things; he foamed with rage. When I mentioned Jesus, he spat at me. Toward the end, I begged him to look to the Lord Jesus and be saved, but spewing words of malice and rage, he wriggled into eternity. His shocking death opened the eyes of many to see the gravity and evil of sin.
Many others, however, when facing death, were brought to faith through the trial and now sleep in Jesus. How many shall I meet in glory as trophies of redeeming grace and love!
In my Mission district, I witnessed many people joyfully depart to be with Jesus. I do not like to speak of their “dying.” They left us rejoicing in the bright assurance that nothing present or future could ever separate them or us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. John Sim was one whose passing was sweetened by his love for Jesus.
He was a dear little boy carried away by consumption (an infection that attacks the lungs). His child’s heart seemed filled with joy about seeing Jesus. His simple prattle, mingled with deep questions, not only arrested his young companions but sorely pierced the hearts of some careless sinners who heard him and greatly refreshed the faith of God’s dear people.
Once, knowing he would soon be with the Lord, he said to me, “Sit and talk with me about Jesus; I am tired of hearing about everything else but Jesus; I am going soon to be with Him. Oh, tell me everything you know or have ever heard about Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God!”
My heart treasures the memory of that weak, quavering, dying voice singing out,
“I lay my sins on Jesus,
The spotless Lamb of God.”
The little child longed to be away, not for rest or freedom from pain but “to see Jesus.” However he learned such great wisdom, he was right. Eternal life is seeing Jesus.
Though many in Glasgow remained dead in their trespasses and sins, there were many others who, through the mission, came to know Jesus as Lord and master, submitting to Him every part of their lives and becoming happier for it. How well those labors prepared me for other labors among other sinners who likewise had need of a Savior.
John G. Paton was a nineteenth-century Scottish missionary to the New Hebrides, where he preached the gospel to heathen cannibals for over thirty years.
