A person dedicated to sharing
the Gospel is called a missionary. The term often invokes images of dedicated Christians
from developed nations traveling to third-world
countries where they can share the Gospel and teach others how
to live as Christ's disciples. The following is a true missionary
account of a different nature. It recounts the story of a young
African man who's encounter with God compels him to set out for America
in order to learn more about Christ, and in the process
changes hundreds of lives, as well as the fate of a university. Kaboo was born in a small village along
the coast of Liberia in West Africa. Although the exact
location is uncertain, circumstantial evidence points
to a location in the southwest part of the country, approximately
300 miles south of Monrovia. Since his tribe, the Kru,
did not have a written form of communication Kaboo's
date of birth is unknown. However, some accounts place
his birth in the year 1873. As the son of the tribal chief
he was known as Prince Kaboo, though that impressive
title can hardly be compared to the image most
people have of royalty. It was a poor village
and his father had high recognition among
that group of course, but as son of the chief he
lived pretty much the same kind of normal life as
the other children his age... For the most part the
Kru enjoyed a peaceful co-existence with
their tribal neighbors. Nonetheless, at times the
occasional droughts and the consequential need for food
resulted in tribal conflict, especially with their close
neighbors: The Grebo's. A tribal historian told me
this... this particular village, this Kru village was at a
disadvantage in terms of its location. They were right on
the fringes of the Kru traditional territory
and therefore vulnerable because they were
that much closer to the Greebo's who didn't like them very well. The Grebo's usual tactic was to
raid and plunder but they soon developed a strategy to increase
the effectiveness of their forays. They began to take hostages, forcing
villagers to pay a monthly food ransom. If the ransom pleased the enemy chief
the hostages would eventually be freed. If not, the hostages suffered physical
punishment and, in due course, death. It was a vicious yet effective
method of enslaving whole villages whose members would do their
utmost to spare loved ones any pain. Through this process the Grebo's could effectively make the
Kru's their work slaves. And young, Prince Kaboo
was a prime target. And on two occasions
he was taken captive, his village was defeated, just decimated in terms
of their goods being raided and taken with them and
many of their people killed. And so he was taken as a pawn of war... On the first occasion they
managed to come up with the ransom booty, so to
speak, and he was released and things were peaceful
for a few more years. But then, when he was probably 16 or
17 years of age, it happened again, and this time his village
was so impoverished that they could not meet the demands, and he was held in captivity
for quite some time. Ransom was usually in
the form of livestock or food that they had stored
against the dry season. The Kru did their utmost
to rescue their prince, but the monthly ransom was never
enough to satisfy the Grebo's; as a result Kaboo suffered. People from his village would come
to see how he was doing and of course, that was when the
captors would beat on him, so that they could hear his cries
and report back to the village, the sad shape that the
son of the chief was in, in order to make it more
likely that they would try harder to come up
with the expected ransom. Kaboo's father was well aware of the importance Kaboo's title
held among his people. Kaboo was his heir and next in line
to keep the Kru united and protected. As food became scarce and the
monthly payments unattainable, Kaboo's father resigned himself
to one last form of ransom. It was all he had left. Kaboo's sister showed up one day... and the idea was that she be
put in captivity in his place. Kaboo himself refused
to allow that to happen, he knew the awful misery
he had been under and perhaps even worse things
could be envisioned for a female captive and he
wouldn't agree to it and wanted to stay in captivity
and let her go back home. Finally the captors felt
that they had had enough and that there wasn't any use
furthering the negotiations. So instead of releasing him,
letting him go back in peace, they determined they
were going to kill him. Grebo execution was
customarily slow and painful. Kaboo would be beaten, half buried
and left as food for flesh eating ants. The prospect would be
enough to horrify any man; how much more, a weak and
already tortured young teenager. One wonders if there wasn't some form of prayer that was
rising from his heart. The people all along
that coastal region, even though it was
a pre-Christian era, missionaries or other
preachers of the Gospel had never been to that
part of Liberia as yet, they had a concept of one supreme God, that is in some aspects
quite close to the Scripture. They believed that He was all-powerful, they believed that He was all knowing, many of the attributes
that we say that God has, They believed as well. And the name they gave
to that being was Yenshua. And I'm told that it means, "the most elder, old man." Now we think of being old as
being over the hill so to speak, but in African culture the older
you are the more respect you have so, the ultimate thought of a
supreme being would be a man who was aged to the upper limits
of his possible lifetime. So that was the name
of the meaning for God. One can surmise that Kaboo,
in his misery and anguish, would have called out
to Yenshua in his pain... Strapped to a pole and weak from months
of captivity and physical mistreatment, Kaboo awaited his fate. One can only guess what
went through his mind. Although the tribes believed
in a supernatural deity, it was a faith centered on fear rather
than reliance on a com passionate God. The boy was terrified. He was doomed. Yet... in his darkest hour
something most unexpected happened: A brilliant and intense light
instantly shone upon him. People screamed. Others hid. Kaboo's bonds came loose and
he collapsed to the ground. "Run, Kaboo! Run!" And the voice said specifically, "Kaboo, get up and flee!" And there wasn't much of a choice, either stay there and be beaten
to death or obey the voice. So he took off and ran for his life. His captors of course,
didn't want him to get away so they began pursuing him but
we're told that he found a hollow log that he was able
to squirm his way into and hid from view until the
captors gave up looking for him. About that time he began to think... I was bound to that log. How could I have gotten up and fled? Somehow the bonds that held
him had suddenly fallen away. And it seemed like the same light, the same glow seemed
to be illuminating his way as he made his
way through the jungle. The light led Kaboo
further from his enemies, but also away from his own village. It could be that he
just knew that he would endanger his people
further by going back home. So he headed off in another direction. And the other thing was, the strange light seemed to be guiding him and it wasn't
toward his home village. Dazed and alone, Kaboo trudged
the jungle for days on end. We see him next some
several hundred miles away, near the capital city of Monrovia, so walking that distance,
especially in his wounded condition, would have required
perhaps a couple of weeks of carefully making his
way through the jungle. It was a dangerous place
to be walking through. He was alone, he wasn't with a group. The Liberian jungle is full
of animals of various kinds, some of them voracious killers, some of them voracious killers, but he was kept in safety and found
his way at last at a coffee plantation. The first person Kaboo talked
to understood his language. He was a fellow
member of the Kru tribe, and this was some distance from
the traditional Kru lands, so that was a little
bit remarkable. And this fellow tribe
member befriended Kaboo, and took care of his
needs, gave him food, introduced him to the plantation
owners who took him on as a laborer. Mr. Davis, a former slave, owned the coffee plantation
and offered Kaboo a place to stay. There, he would first
recover from his ordeal, eventually join in the work and
slowly learn the English language. The surroundings were all
brand new to Kaboo who had never been exposed to any other way
of life than that of his tribe. A few days after his arrival,
another surprise awaited him. The following Sunday
Kaboo found himself in a Christian service for the
first time in his life. And as the Holy Spirit
would orchestrate things, the woman who spoke
that day had a story, a lesson from the scripture on
the conversion of the Apostle Paul. "But as he was on his way, something unusual happened. Suddenly, a bright light came upon
him and Saul fell to the ground. Along with the light Saul heard a voice." And young Kaboo was so struck
by how parallel that was to his own situation that he
jumped right up in the service, nobody had told him
evidently that you're supposed to keep quiet while the
preaching is going on. Anyway, he shouted out,
or spoke out, and said, "That's what happened to me!" and began to tell the story
of seeing the light and hearing his name and the light that had
led him in the days to follow. Well the missionary wasn't offended
in the least as it turned out, this is an astounding
testimony right out of the blue, and it's safe to say that Kaboo became
a believer in Christ as of that moment. It took some further teaching, some attempts to learn how
to read from the Scripture that transpired over the
next couple of years actually, for him to really come to
know fully what all this meant. If any question ever came up, anybody wondered what he was going
to do or something, he would say, "Well, I'll go talk to my Father
and He'll show me what to do." It seemed like that original
guidance was so clear, from the time he left the captivity and the Grebo village just
continued with him, a communion with God that was real, day by day, moment by moment. He developed the habit of praying, for hours at a time, every day, and where he learned it I don't know. Many Christians just
pray quietly and close their eyes and meditate when they pray. But for Kaboo, prayer
was speaking out loud, talking to his Father. And in the dormitory
facility where he and the other workers at
the plantation lived he would pray long into
the hours of the night until some of them began
to complain and say, "Look, we've got to get some sleep. Could you go out into the
jungle and do your praying?" He would go without sleep very
often and spend the time in prayer. The missionaries were
thrilled with this kind of progress from a convert
to Christ and he was. He came back often, several times a day to
pursue his reading lessons, which were essentially
reading the Scriptures, trying to understand the
vocabulary as he came to it. Kaboo remained in Monrovia
for several years and earned a living doing odd
jobs like house painting. However, his principle interest
was to grow in the Christian faith. He was grateful to the
missionary teachers who taught him the Bible and felt especially
indebted to Lizzy McNeil, a young missionary who took
countless hours instructing Kaboo. Ms. McNeil had had a
benefactor who had helped finance her college studies
in Fort Wayne, Indiana and his name was Samuel
Morris, he was a lawyer. And you can look up the city
records and find out about him. He was a prominent citizen
of the comm unity and evidently helped with scholarships
for students at this college, and so she knew of no other
name better than to give this young African the name of
her benefactor, Samuel Morris. One could ask why he even
needed to change his name. And that's a good question
for us in the 21 st century. Many instances in the New
Testament document Christian converts who adopted new names
as testimony of an inner change. Kaboo felt the same
desire and changed his name not only as a declaration
of his new life in Christ, but as a way to honor
Lizzie McNeal who had become a mother figure
to him in the faith. And so Kaboo, Kru Prince,
became Samuel Morris, Christian convert. Samuel hungered after the things
of God and every time he would meet with Lizzy McNeal he would
assail her with new questions. She had attended Taylor
University in its earlier stages in Fort Wayne and was
trained in the Scriptures. And so she answered
questions as best she could. After a while, she kind
of in fun would say, "Well, I've taught you all I know. The only person that
knows more, she said is a man named Stephen
Merit, who taught me. " And of course Kaboo immediately
wanted to know who Stephen Merit was. Ms. McNeil had mentioned
his name just out of the blue to kind of get his incessant
questioning stopped but, it led to further
questions and before long... In the Gospels Jesus regularly reminded
His disciples that another helper would be sent to assist them in
their task of evangelizing the world. Samuel desperately wanted
to bring the Gospel to his people and felt that
he needed the same help. He needed to know as much as
possible about the Holy Spirit and he was willing to do
anything to obtain that knowledge. No one doubts but what
Morris experienced that Fullness early in his
relationship to Christ. He was so passionate
about his faith. But he kept on saying, "I need more of the Holy Spirit. Teach me more of the Holy Spirit." And when he found out about
this man named Stephen Merrit, who had taught Ms. McNeil everything she knew about the Holy
Spirit (so she said), he suddenly got it in his mind, "I've got to go see him..." She said, "No, no, you don't understand. There's a huge ocean
between here and there. You can't. You have to go on a boat to
go where Stephen Merrit is. It's in New York city." Well, in his typical
way of answering he said, "I'll talk to my Father about it." And he came back in a few days with his
little satchel of belongings and said, "My Father says I'm supposed to
go. And I'm here to say goodbye." And she didn't know what to do. She was being facetious
when she first brought it up. She tried to dissuade
him but he firmly went out the door and pulled
it shut behind him. He was on his way. Even though the distance to New
York was explained to Samuel, the facts did not dissuade him. It is quite possible
that he simply could not comprehend the
vastness of the ocean. One thing was certain, he could only get to New York by ship. Now he's headed off to the next
stage in his life according to the leading of this inner light
that seemed to be guiding him. And he finds himself by the seashore, in Robert's Port, in Cape Mount County, the Northern most county in Liberia. And out in the harbor is a sailing ship, a 300 ton vessel with the name
Liberia painted on the side, one owned by a Jewish businessman
in New York City and came back and forth to the coast of Africa
to pick up goods that could be sold. Morris camped himself
on the sand, right there, where he knew the captain would
be coming ashore after awhile. And sure enough, the
long boat with the captain and at least 1 crewman
stopped up on the beach. And Morris walks up to him
and says something like, "My Father tells me that you're
supposed to take me to New York City." He may have even mentioned
Stephen Merrit at that point. He was totally naive in his faith and confident that God
knew what he was doing. But the captain didn't
have time for him. The account says he kicked him
aside and told him to leave. Well Morris didn't leave. The captain and the crewmen went on
in to town and got some supplies... and Morris stayed
right there by the boat. To the captain's dismay, he returned to the port to
find Samuel waiting for him. The young African kept insisting that
his Father wanted him in New York, while the Captain was equally adamant that it would not be
by means of his ship. Rather than succumbing to discouragement
Samuel turned to his Heavenly Father. Days later, circumstances forced the
Captain to reconsider his decision. By that time the captain
had discovered that a couple of his members of
the crew had jumped ship. So he was short-handed and getting
ready to leave the Liberian coast and head on to pick up supplies in other
African countries along the coast. So, he had determined by then that
Kaboo was a member of the Kru tribe, who were traditionally sailors, and assumed that Morris
knew his way on board a ship and could help
out with the rigging. So he let him go on board. And this was a dream coming
true for young Morris. I can just picture in his mind as
the ship made its way out to sea, and he watched the receding coastline
and the land that had been his home. And he couldn't believe what was
coming in terms of God's leading. When the crew started climbing up in the rigging to adjust the
sails and so forth, it was expected that Morris would
climb up and do it with them. Well he tried but he
was scared to death, up in the rigging and in those heights. And he knew he wasn't suited for it, especially when some
stormy weather began to hit and the ship was knocked around... Experiencing a storm at
sea was frightening enough, but to be atop the rigging as the ship heaved almost on its
side was terrifying. The experience was
beyond anything Samuel had ever encountered and he
nearly died of fright. He came down one time just terrified, just almost passed out from fear. And the cabin boy came up to
him sometime about then and said, "Look, I've been wanting to
be part of the rigging crew all my life and I've been stuck
as the captain's cabin boy. Why don't we change jobs?" Evidently they did not consult the
captain about this change of personnel. And the captain came in and
found this young Samuel Morris in his cabin and he was furious. And Morris knew there was a
beating probably about to occur and all Morris knew was to
fall on his knees and pray for God to calm the
heart of this angry man. The captain was a rough
and violent character that already harbored
anger towards Samuel. He had expected the young man to
possess some seafaring experience, which he did not. And Samuel's incessant talk about
his Heavenly Father annoyed him. Yet, as the captain got
up to hit Samuel, he froze. And we're told that the captain, when he saw that boy kneeling in prayer, was moved to recall the days when he
had grown up on a farm in New Jersey, in a Christian home
and had been taught the Scriptures and how
to pray by his mother. As Samuel continued to
pray, a kind of longing and a desire for God
replaced the Captain's anger. The captain over the next days
began to discuss more these spiritual truths that Morris
seemed to be the one to talk about. And he gave his heart to
Christ. He became a believer. The ship was a fairly good size. It was about one Football
field and a third long, which is a pretty good size
ship with a pretty good size crew but they would
have been From everywhere. It was interesting
to me that, according to Baldwin at least;
he was the only African on it, the only black man. But there were Arabs and Malays
and doubtless Asians, and British... There were incidents with the crew. They were a rough and
tumble bunch picked up from all parts of the world no doubt. And there were fights
among them sometimes. And on one occasion
there was one member of the crew who was
identified as a Malay (from Malaysia) and
he was more aggressive maybe and more of a
fighter than the rest, and had a sharp sword-like
device that he was going to use to fight one of the
other members of the crew. Sea voyage in the 1800's
was treacherous but the danger of navigating open
sea was not the only risk. A ship's crew was often comprised
of coarse and aggressive men, kept in line only through harsh
discipline and physical punishment. Even then, months at sea occasionally
led to mutiny and incidents of violence. Such was the case with
a Malaysian crewmember. Notorious for his ferocious temper, which on more than one occasion
had resulted in bloodshed, he threatened to kill another
man with a knife-like weapon. While brawny crewmembers
fearfully stepped back... young Samuel, stepped forward. Courageously, he told the
Malaysian to put down his weapon. It was a move that could
have cost Samuel his life. We're told that the Malay didn't
like that interference and was about ready to use the sword on
Morris but his arm was seized, he could not bring it down. And the captain witnessed
that as well and realized that something truly
miraculous was in their midst. Well the result of
that incident was that several of the people who were there and witnessed it trusted
in Morris' faith and his Christ and became believers as well. By the time the journey
was over someone said that about half of the
crew had become believers. His command of English
was much less than my mental image of
him speaking, and all. He spoke apparently in
very short sentences. Not many adjectives. Mostly nouns and verbs, probably like I would sound if I tried
to speak in the Kru tongue, you know. They would say, "He is a good guy, but he sounds like a first grader." This was of course
Samuel Morris' situation. But he did well enough when he spoke. Then the word charisma comes to my mind. Apparently there was something absolutely charismatic
about his courage. You find it in the story of the Malay
when he stood up and said "Don't kill".. You find it in the kind of
melting of the captain's heart, the brotherly love that apparently
developed among the crew. Weeks later, Samuel
and a transformed crew arrived at their destination: New York. The Brooklyn bridge had just
been newly completed and I can imagine the sailing ship going
under it and going to his pier, we know exactly which
of the many piers along the harbor there that
the ship parked at, we looked it up in the New York
Maritime Register a few years ago, it gives all those details. All these tall buildings and a
bustling city with lots of people in it All these tall buildings and a
bustling city with lots of people in it must have been an incredible sight for
this young man from far away Africa. The ship docked and the captain, knowing how vulnerable
this young African would be if he just went off on
his own in this big city, pled with him to stick around
because he was due for some vacation leave and wanted to
go back to his family farm. He was thinking of
taking Morris with him. But Morris had come to
find Stephen Merrit and nothing would convince
him to follow the captain, to accept the captain's offer. So the other sailors gave him some
clothing that they had so that he would have at least one decent suit of apparel
to wear as he walked around the city. The first person he encountered
was probably a vagrant, along the dock there. And Morris walks up to him
in his naivete and says, Take me to Stephen
Merrit. Do you know him?" And the laughable idea that in a city of perhaps 2 million
people at that time, this one lone person
named Stephen Merrit would be known by the
first person that Morris encountered when he got
off the ship is just part of the miraculous nature
of the story, I think. The guy did know him. He said, Yes, as a matter of fact, I've been to his mission
over on 8th Street. I'll take you there but
it'll cost you a dollar. Confident that God would help
him, Samuel simply replied, One dollar? Do not worry.
My Father will pay you!" It's about 8 long New York
blocks from the pier where the ship had docked to
this address on 8th Street where Stephen Merrit preached
at a mission and he had his offices there for the
mission agency that he ran, he was the secretary, the home secretary for
Bishop William Taylor who was off in Africa
at that time, attending to his
missionary exploits. Stephen Merrit later wrote: They reached me as I was
leaving for a prayer meeting. The young African man
stepped up and said, "I've just come from Africa to
talk with you about the Holy Ghost. " Well, have you any
letters of introduction?" I asked to which he replied: "No; I had no time to wait." I was in a hurry and so I explained, I am going to a prayer meeting. Go to the mission next door. On my return I will see about you. Whereupon the gentleman that
accompanied Samuel yelled out: "Say! Where's my dollar?" "Oh, Stephen Merrit pays all
my bills now," said Samuel. Well, I am not sure why, but I simply reached into my
pocket and I paid the fee. Merrit came back, we
don't know how much later, perhaps an hour later,
had forgotten about this young black man that he'd
left there at the mission Merrit continues: I forgot him until just about 10:30 PM, when Samuel Morris flashed
upon my remembrance. I hastened over and found him on the
platform with seventeen men around him; he had just led them to Jesus and they
were rejoicing in His pardoning favor. I had never seen such a sight! He lived in Hoboken Heights
which is across, in New Jersey... and they would have taken
a ferry boat I presume, a horse and buggy across to his home, and Stephen Merrit was a fairly
well-to-do Methodist minister, he had a nice home. And when they walked in the door, Mrs. Merrit encounters
this young black man, not too well dressed, for the
first time and Merrit says, This is Samuel Morris, from Africa. He's going to stay in the
Bishop's bedroom tonight. They had reserved a room for Bishop
Taylor whenever he was in New York. And Mrs. Merrit, so the story
goes said, "Oh no, he's not. " Morris and Merrit lived
together perhaps most of a month, during that October of 1891 , and for Stephen Merrit it was
a time of wondering what's next, what God's next leading was, his responsibility in the whole process; what to do next with this
young man whose earnest desire to learn more about the Holy
Spirit and the Scriptures. Merrit recounted taking
Samuel to Sunday school and introducing him to the
young people in the class: When they saw Samuel, they laughed, and as he began to tell
the story of his conversion, I was called elsewhere. When I returned however, the
altar was full of young people, weeping and sobbing. I never found out what Samuel said
but the presence and the power of the Holy Spirit were so present that the
entire place was filled with His glory! So affected were the young
people that they formed a "Samuel Morris Missionary Society" and secured money, clothes
and everything required to send him off to Taylor
University in Fort Wayne, Indiana. People everywhere seemed to respond... and loved him. Before he was there very long, Merrit took Samuel out into
town in his horse and buggy, thinking that tourist scenes would
be of interest to this young man. And there's one incident when
Merrit was trying to impress the young man with the highest
church steeple in New England, in the state of New York I guess. And that was the last straw for Morris. Samuel said, "Stephen Merrit,
do you ever pray in a buggy?" I answered, "Oh yes. Very frequently. " He placed his hand on mine
and got me on my knees, "We will pray" and for the first time
in my life I knelt in a buggy to pray. He told the Holy Spirit he had come
from Africa to talk to me about Him and I talked about everything else
and wanted to show him the church, the city, and the people, when
he was so desirous of hearing and knowing about Him and he
asked the Holy Spirit if He would take out of my heart
things and so fill me with Himself that I would never write or
preach or talk but only of Him. There were three of us
in that buggy that day. He wrote later and said it
was one of many experiences that led him to realize that
this young man from Africa, who came to seek to know
more about the Holy Spirit, already knew more than Merrit ever had, and that it was Morris who
was teaching Stephen Merrit about the fullness of the Holy Spirit. A few weeks after this
experience Stephen Merritt wrote to the president
of Taylor University, Thaddeus Reade. Merrit was acquainted
with the school because It was named for Bishop William Taylor. It was also part of a
Methodist Revivalist Movement that Stephen Merrit was a part of. Taylor, in its archives,
still has a copy of the letter written by Stephen
Merrit to Thaddeus Reade, the president, telling him to
expect the arrival of a very unusual young man from Africa
who was coming to his school, to pursue his studies. He arrived on campus at a time when the
school was in dire straits financially; they had overextended themselves
in enlarging their main building. They had large debts with local banks. This was post-Civil
War time and one of the worst depressions in the
history of our country. And the funds just
weren't there. So we're not sure but there's
evidence that the banks had foreclosed on this main building
in order to make things right. And so the school was
in this sad situation, really threatened with
having to close its doors. And Thaddeus Reade, the president, was having this vision of
the future of the school which meant that it
would continue and that it would be a prosperous place
where students from all over the world could train
to prepare for ministry. So in the door walks this young man, dark skinned young man from Africa. Thaddeus Reade knew who he was
because of the correspondence they'd had and he introduced him to a
couple of board members I think, that were there in the office
discussing the plight of the school. And one of them we're
told, jokingly said, And one of them we're
told, jokingly said, This is your vision? This fantastic student
body of the future. And Thaddeus Reed somehow said, Yes, I believe it is. " It was more prophetically
true than he realized. What prompted Thaddeus
Reade to accept this young man of no means as a student
in the Taylor University when the institution
was suffering financially can only be attributed to
God's hand in the matter. When offered the choice
of a room in the dormitory, Samuel's reply was: If there is a room that no
one wants, give it to me. " Morris' coming to campus
brought revival to the place, this unction of the Holy
Spirit that radiated from him. He brought a spiritual
awakening to the student body, who were caught up in
19th century rationalism. Even if you read the literature
of that period, they were in, further in to Aristotle, Socrates, and Plato than they were
to the New Testament. But he brought this new interpretation
to biblical faith and many kids got, in our modern terminology, they were converted or they were saved. His reputation for
prayer that he began to practice there as
well, in his dorm room. I mean, students would
come wanting to talk to him, they'd knock on the
door and they'd hear his voice in prayer and he
would ignore it until he was done talking
to his father and then he would come to the
door with no apology, they just understood that
that was his habit of life. He needed some remedial
course work to be able to really function as
a college student so, there were several members of the
community who gave him English lessons, usually based, as he had done in
Africa, on the study of the Scriptures. They would read passages together and
increase his vocabulary and so forth. He made contributions in class
that astounded his professors. He would have insights
into the Scripture they were studying in
some of the classes. The visits to his room by
fellow students continued. On one occasion a
student went to visit with him more out of curiosity
than anything else. As was his custom, Samuel handed him the
Bible and requested they read a portion. To Samuel's astonishment,
the visitor refused. I am an atheist," he declared. You do not believe in
God?" replied Samuel. My brother, when your father speaks
to you, do you not believe him? The sun shines and
you do not believe it? God is your father, Jesus is your brother, and the Holy
Spirit is your sun. The student left but not before
Samuel vowed to pray for him daily. He prayed often and without
fail for his own people. And fellow countrymen were blessed
to grow in faith even from a distance as is evidenced by a letter written
by another young Liberian in 1893: Samuel I love you very dearly. You were the one who helped
me to find my precious Jesus. Oh, how I love Him more every
day since I have found Him. I am getting new light all
the time and growing in grace. God is making me a strong soldier
and I am going to fight the devil. News of Samuel's testimony soon
found its way into the comm unity and it wasn't long before he was invited
to speak in several local churches. Small gatherings quickly became large crowds as people
flocked to hear the young man whose simple yet strong faith seemed to ignite a similar
fire in their hearts. While Samuel longed to know
more about the Holy Spirit, he seemed oblivious to the fact that the Holy Spirit had found
an instrument in him. Ever eager to study the
Bible and share his faith, he often attended services
near the university. It was some 8 blocks from the college
and he walked there every Sunday, and mid-week service as well. Well that 2nd winter,
one night in January he was determined to
go to a prayer meeting. It was a very cold
night, zero cold weather, and he wasn't bundled up well enough. And he took sick. He caught a respiratory
illness as a result of the cold, by the time he got home from
the prayer meeting that night. He became very ill. They put him in the hospital. The former president of the
school was a medical doctor of St. Joseph hospital where they
took care of him and of course, was very anxious to treat him
medically the very best way he could. People came to visit him and after
awhile Morris began to speak, oddly, of the fact that he
wouldn't be getting well, it seemed that his Father
had told him that he wouldn't be leaving the
hospital a well person. They played it down. They said, Look, you're planning to go back to your people.
You have to finish your studies so you can go back to Africa and teach them, as God
has called you to do. Early in May of that Spring of
1893 he seemed to be getting better. Dr. Stemon, the physician was
reporting to people that he would soon be out of the hospital and
back to his normal way of life. One day Morris was looking out the
window and saw the doctor down below, and he waved to him
and called out to him, and that was the last words
that anyone ever heard him utter. He died... was found sitting in
a chair a little while later when the doctor came
around to check on him. When Samuel Morris died in May of 1893
the shock to the campus was enormous. But it wasn’t just the
Taylor University campus, the whole city of Ft. Wayne
knew of this young man by then. The African American
community, of course, was stunned because he
had become their hero. The funeral was one of the
largest the city has ever seen, at least at that time, and
maybe since then, I don't know. Carriages wound their
way for miles back toward the campus which is
about a mile and a half, 2 miles, from here. This was a blow to the campus community. By this time the almost bankrupt
college had gotten the idea of moving out of Fort Wayne
and coming to Upland, Indiana - Grant county. The town had given $10,000
and a 10 acre plot of ground in order to attract the
college to their comm unity; it was a boom time
economically for them. They knew it was good
business to have a college. So the dedication, the
ground breaking for this new site for the college was
to take place in early June. And big plans were made, a group
from the community was to go, there was a brass band going to play, and the programs were all printed, Morris' name was on it, he was going to lead
in prayer and I think, give a message in
song at this gathering. Well, Morris died a
month prior to that, ... it was a rainy day;
everyone was still in shock, especially the president, over the
loss of this promising young African. And they got to the town of
Upland, just a few people, not nearly the hundreds
that had originally planned to come for
this ground breaking. People from other places had gathered, anticipating this grand
moment and President Reade had to tell them for the first time (that they had heard it) that Morris had died the month before. Reade had his prepared
oration that he was preparing to give but he didn't
have any heart for it. We read about what happened that
day in an unpublished manuscript that Taylor has in its archives and the
conclusion of that manuscript was... The writer said, We went home like whipped pups. This great inspiration, this hope for the future of
the college was gone forever. Though there is indication
that Samuel perceived that his heavenly father
was calling him home, his death was a shock to his friends. They were mystified. But there was a lesson to be learned. Samuel Morris was dead. Gone. But that would not limit his testimony. God had a plan. We know that in the providence of God, Taylor University and
this hope for the future, was not gone forever. The inspiration of Morris'
life and the stories written about him
that were written up in booklets and printed in
the hundreds of thousands of copies during the
next 20 or 25 years, the income from those
booklets and so forth put to use in scholarship
funds and so forth, put to use in scholarship
funds and so forth, many say, saved the university. Reade at Taylor, the president, sold two hundred and
forty thousand copies from the time of Samuel
Morris' death until 1920. Now if you buy a Sears-Roebuck catalog
of 1910 and see what things cost then you realize that 240,000
probably is something in the neighborhood of maybe 5 million. Apparently the Samuel Morris story
was that size and most people of that era credited that story of
putting Taylor on the map, as it were. Knowing that God somehow
used his testimony to help the university would have brought much
joy to Samuel since the faculty, students and the local community
had been an enormous blessing to him. However, Samuel had always
longed to return to his country and to bring the good news
of the Gospel to his people. The Taylor story about Sammie Morris is
much more involved, in the sense that, the number of people who
left Taylor University to go to Africa is really pretty large. Samuel's story makes an impression first of all because
it is the account of someone to whom God reached out to
even when they have no knowledge of Him. Secondly, because it
reveals the power in the simplicity of relying on God
as a child would his father. The story continues
to impact people today. There are memorials all over campus, the series of brass statues
and a memorial fountain park that gives three aspects
of the history of his life. There's the largest residence
hall on cam pus that bears his name, Samuel Morris Hall. And he is well remembered. The faithfulness of God is evident
in the magnificent way he used a humble young boy who in his
longing to honor his heavenly father, simply believed that what
He had promised was true. Samuel organized no campaigns, he simply read God's word, believed it, obeyed it, and prayed its blessing into
'impossibilities' as large as Taylor University and as simple
as the life of a single man... such as the staunch
atheist he prayed for who to everyone's surprise
eventually became a Bishop. Samuel Morris simply believed God. There are 3 aspects of Morris'
influence we might highlight. He came to the U.S., his spiritual influence could be
likened to a missionary coming across the waters to express
the Gospel story to those in need, and his influence, both in
New York city and in Fort Wayne, certainly had that aspect to it. His coming also had a
great help to the school, they were on the ropes
financially, might have gone under, had to close their doors, but his
coming brought a new sense of life through his influence and
through the finances that began flowing to the college as
a result of that influence. And then, since he died, that influence has gone on, has been the spark of
sincere efforts to help others in need who are like
Samuel Morris in many ways, who needed financial help
in order to be able to afford college studies at
a private school like this. And that part of the
story goes on and on. It seems like a never ending evidence
of the seed of the Word of God, planted in the life of this
young man and then he in turn plants it in others'
lives and it grows and grows. The seed of the Word
of God is a powerful, dynamic force, that by the power of the Holy
Spirit bears fruit forever... forever.
