Responding to What Light You Have

Credit to where credit is due: This is an excerpt of a sermon from the book of Romans, where John MacArthur relates the testimony of one in his church — illustrating that God is fair, and that God gives grace to those that respond to what gospel light they have by giving more light. I will quote the actual transcript of the testimony itself, but all of the following is the quote of MacArthur from his sermon, Principles of God’s Judgement, part 4b.

Quoting From MacArthur’s Sermon:

We had a living illustration of this in our church the last week, a man by the name of Augustus Marway. Some of you came on Wednesday night and heard his testimony. He is proof positive of this, and I have his testimony, and I’m just going to read a few excerpts from it. This man lived in a village involved in tribal wars. Never put a stitch of clothes on his body until he was 14. In a most aboriginal circumstance in Africa. And this is his own testimony. 

I resented it whenever strangers passing through the village were invited to our house. At first Mother allowed me and my two brothers to eat with the guest, but I made a pig of myself, stuffing my mouth with handfuls of rice and grabbing another handful before I could even swallow what I had. Mother was ashamed of me. She wouldn’t let me eat with the guests after that. I would just sit and glare at the visitors, making them feel uncomfortable until they would invite me to the table.

From then on, Mother made me sit outside the house until the guests had finished eating. I don’t know what made me so incorrigible. In fact, the whole village asked the question, “What’s the matter with that son of Marway?” they would ask and my poor parents were at their wits’ end. 

Even though I loved my mother dearly, I found myself doing terrible things. I can remember seeing her sitting on a bench outside the house and impulsively picking up a stick to throw at her legs. I missed her and struck a little child, hurting him badly.

At times like that, the villagers would join my parents in meting out a punishment. That time, they held me down on the ground by my legs and my arms while they poured a bowl of hot pepper soup down my nose. I nearly choked to death, and for hours afterward my nose burned.

There’s a new one for you, mom and dad. If Campbell’s only knew. Let me stop in this testimony for a moment. Why did that tribe of aboriginal people who never heard about the true God, who never heard of the gospel, never heard the name Jesus, why did they punish a young boy for throwing a stick and hurting a child? Why? Who told them that was wrong? Why did this young man feel guilty? He told us when he talked to our staff one day, he said, “My heart was broken every day because I loved my mother and I knew she was ashamed of me, but I couldn’t correct my behavior.” Why did he feel that way? Where did he get to feel that guilt? Where did that come from? And why was his mother ashamed of him? Who told her what the standard was? 

He goes on: 

I couldn’t understand myself. After one of those episodes, I would go off into the forest and pound my head against a tree, crying, “What’s wrong with me? I should kill myself.” I hated being the white sheep of the family.

All depends on your perspective. 

He says:

But one day when I was about twelve years old, a boy returned to our village from the coast where he had been visiting his father. By the way, that was a long, long, long journey by foot. None of us younger ones had ever seen the ocean, so we crowded around him to hear all about it. It was as though he had been to the moon and back. Enjoying the acclaim, he kept us spellbound with his experiences as he recounted the strange things he saw. Among other things, he told us about how some people on the coast met together in a house on Sundays and they sang and stayed a long time. 

He couldn’t figure out what they were doing, and finally his curiosity got the better of him, so he asked one of the villagers, “What do you do in there for such a long time?” They told him they were praying to God, the God who created everything, and they said they believed He heard their prayers. 

I had never heard anything like this. A God who hears your prayers? It excited me. And I wanted to pray to God, too. I asked the boy to meet me on Sunday, since that’s the day they met in that house, and we would go someplace outside the village and he could tell me how to pray. But he wasn’t interested. Disappointed, I decided the next Sunday to try it by myself.

I went to a hut that my cousin was still building, and with no one around, I tried to pray for the first time. I had never heard anyone pray, but I decided I would just talk to this God like He was my father. I can’t explain what happened but it was an exciting experience. I wanted to know more about this God, but there was no one in our village who knew anything about Him. So for two years, I kept praying by myself on Sundays and hoping that someday someone would come along who could tell me about Him.

You see? Now, he lived up to the light he had, didn’t he? He followed that light. 

About this time, the government started building a motor road to prepare for the new invention called the automobile. And along with many of my relatives, we spent two weeks a month for the next two years building the road under terrible working conditions. Then I went back to Sadore, where I had been born, to stay with my cousin. When I reached Sadore, I made the most wonderful discovery of my entire life for in Sadore there was a house where people met to pray to the God who created the world.

How excited I was. I could hardly wait for Sunday. All night I lay on my mat, waiting for that bell that my cousin said would ring and call us to that house. That morning I sat in the back. I listened to a man tell about God for the first time in my life. I found He was far more wonderful than I had ever imagined. The preacher said that God loved the world so much that He sent His only Son, named Jesus, to take away my sins. I wondered if He knew how terrible I was. I wondered if He knew the awful things I had done back in my village. But the preacher said no matter what I had done, God would forgive me and make my heart clean. 

Listen to this next statement. 

I knew it was all true.

How did he know that? How did he know that was true? You say, “Well, he went to the counseling room. They gave him a sheet on apologetics.” How did he know that was true? He was following a light God had given him, and that was the next logical step, and his heart was a prepared heart. 

Hadn’t this God heard my prayers when I talked to Him and asked Him to help me? Hadn’t He sent me here to Sadore when I didn’t even know He had one of His houses here? I gave my heart to God that morning and it was nice to know He had a Son, too. He was really a father, just like I had been praying to. 

You know what happened to that man? That man became the most significant man in the nation of Liberia in our day in founding and building churches. 

Do you get the picture? You see, the very – listen to this – the very fact that that could occur proves the heathen have the knowledge if they’ll live up to it. God will be fair, no favorites, but each is responsible for the light he has