Others like what does it mean to be born again Features >>
About the Book
In "What Does It Mean To Be Born Again," R. C. Sproul explains the concept of spiritual rebirth, diving into topics such as the nature of sin, the work of the Holy Spirit, and the necessity of faith in Christ. Sproul emphasizes the transformative nature of being born again and explores what it means to truly be a new creation in Christ.
Xi Shengmo
Xi Shengmo, whose birth name was Xi Zizhi, was born into a literary class family of traditional Chinese medical doctors in Western Zhang village near Linfen, Shanxi Province. Young Xi received traditional Chinese education which would one day place him among the ranks of the learned Confucian scholars. Among his friends, he was a high-spirited boy, very forceful in character and a born leader. But, when alone, there were always questions about human life, perplexing and disturbing him, and he longed for an answer to the problem of existence. When his father passed away, his estate was divided. Young Xi purchased a farm on the outskirts of the town. He now became a Confucian scholar who in 1851 obtained Xiu Cai (BA), the first of three literary degrees. He soon won the esteem of the humble villagers and was asked to mediate in quarrels, law suits and other emergencies. As a result, his reputation for wisdom spread far and wide.
But with Xi, happiness and rest of soul were not purchased by such paltry trifles. His first wife passed way, leaving no children, and Confucianism did nothing to still the tumult of his soul. His study of Chinese classics, while stimulating the intellectual side of his nature, did not bring peace. At the age of thirty, he was married again, to a girl in her late teens, who became a loving and understanding wife. But the continued conflict in Xiâs soul was affecting his health. When friends suggested that an occasional use of the opium could do no harm and might bring relief, he decided to test its merits.
Temporary exhilaration was followed by a deeper depression of spirit than he had suffered before, however. He soon became an addict and resorted to opium again and again, until he was only a shadow of his former self. Committed to death by his wife and friends, he was dressed in his best clothing and laid on his bed, awaiting the moment of departure. To his great relief, his world-weary spirit seemed to be leaving the body. Suddenly it was arrested by the authoritative command, âGo back! Go back!â Sadly, the order was obeyed and the sick man found himself again facing the realities of life. After his conversion, Xi never conceded that what had happened was the fantasy of a distorted mind, but felt rather that it was the voice of God.
In 1877, a famine of fearful proportions stalked Shanxi province. For several years, there was no rain and, consequently, no crops. Thousands of people perished from hunger, diseases or suicide. In the midst of the distress, it was learned that two foreigners, David Hill (British Methodist missionary) and Timothy Richard (British Baptist missionary), had come to a nearby town. They wore Chinese dress, distributing food and money to the starving people. They also brought with them a religion of which the people of Shanxi never had heard.
With the end of the severe famine in 1879, Hill and Richard conducted a unique type of literature evangelism at the time of the triennial examinations in Taiyuan, and offered prizes for the best literary essays on Christian themes, which covered such subjects as opium, images of the gods, and the regulation of the heart and life; the essays sought to lead scholars to examine the Christian faith.
Urged on by his family to prove his prowess, Xi wrote four essays under four different names, and submitted them for examination. When the results were announced, he won three out of the four prizes offered. He went reluctantly to collect the prize from Hill at the missionaryâs house in Pingyang, accompanied by his brother-in-law. Later Xi described the meeting:
As daylight banished darkness, so did Mr. Hillâs presence dissipate all the idle rumors I had heard. All sense of fear was gone; my mind was at rest. I beheld his kindly eye and remembered the words of Mencius: âIf a manâs heart is not right, his eye will certainly bespeak it.â That face told me I was in the presence of a true, good man.
Xi became Hillâs assistant in writing literary tracts and translating the New Testament. Within two months, he became a Christian and accepted Hillâs help in breaking his addiction to opium. After Xi started to read the Bible, the Book began to exert a great influence upon him, giving him hope of deliverance from the dreadful habit of opium smoking. One day, as he was reading the story of the crucifixion, he fell on his knees, with the Bible before him, weeping as he read. At that moment, he felt that the dying, yet living Savior, enfolded his weary soul in his great love. His search was ended; peace like a river became his portion. The slave of sin was now and forever the bond-servant of God.
This peace did not last long, however; for a week, Xi neither ate nor slept. In the fierce combat between good and evil, he experienced almost every agony known to the human body. Weakness, faintness, dizziness, exhaustion, fever, chills, depressionâ-all attacked his enfeebled frame. When the struggle was most critical, the addict cried out, âThough I die, I never will touch opium again.â Through prayer âwithout ceasingâ and Bible reading, it was revealed to him that only the Holy Spirit could enable him to conquer in the conflict. Xi said later of the Spirit:
He did what man and medicine could not do. From that moment, my body was perfectly at rest. Then I knew that to break off opium without faith in Jesus would indeed be impossible.
He was finally delivered from opium bondage and became a new man. When this victory over opium was won, Xi adopted the name Shengmo, meaning âconqueror of demons.â Along with a sense of abundant grace given him came an intense longing to spread the possibility of such an experience to men near and far. Soon he became convinced that he was commissioned by God to do that very thing.
Thus, in a very brief time, he was converted, committed to holiness of life, and feeling a call to preach the Gospel. After Hill received a new appointment and returned to Hankou, Xi was baptized in November 1880 at Pingyang by J. C. Turner, missionary with the China Inland Mission (CIM). Subsequently he worked with CIM missionaries in pioneer evangelism in Shanxi and surrounding areas. His education, forceful personality, and spiritual gifts, together with a fervent faith expressed in a deep prayer life, quickly led to his emergence as a spiritual leader.
Now the opium-drugged victims of Shanxi occupied Xiâs attention. The wide-spread use of the opiate required earnest and intense effort if the enslaved were to be rescued. His first attempt to do so was in a small town near his village. Since they were short of funds, Mrs. Xi sold some of her precious bridal garments and jewelry. They rented a shop and stocked it with medicines, and furnished it with Christian texts on the walls.
For twenty years, the system adopted in this area became a pattern for between forty and fifty others that were opened as refuges for the users of opium. In each station, hundreds of persons were treated with pills that eventually Xi made himself by a secret formula which he believed was revealed to him by God. Loving care, presentation of Gospel truth, and much prayer led to the liberation of thousands of addicts, who then carried the news of their freedom to others. Every new patient was expected to attend daily prayer sessions. Indeed, only those willing to make prayer a major factor in their treatment were admitted. The pills, which took the place of expensive, imported ones, the supply of which had often failed at a crucial time, were the fruit of a season of fasting and prayer, plus Xiâs knowledge of native drugs.
His notable achievement was to establish as many as 50 opium refuges in four provinces; these also functioned as centers for church planting. One of the largest of these centers was at Hongtong County, thirty miles north of Pingyang. These refuges were run by reformed addicts who had come through his system, first as patients, then as converts, evangelists, and assistant refuge keepers. Churches established as a result of the outreach by opium refuges were made up largely of recovered addicts.
Xi remarked that his Christian life was a very real and constant warfare with the powers of Satan. His battle to develop that most effective evangelistic spearhead, the opium refuge project, met with opposition and difficulties. The only thing he could do was to ignore criticism and resist Satan with spiritual weapons. He relied on the strength of God, rather than his own. At times he became conscious of great fatigue and weakness, and these occasions became the call to much prayer and fasting, for it was in this way that he could know that some immediate, perplexing problem was to be prayed through. Always when he thought the will of God was ascertained, or the problem resolved, the unusual energy which was âusualâ for himâ- and which he considered to be from Godâ-was regained and the work resumed.
Xi also developed a utopian community called Middle Eden, where he worshipped and ministered together with family members, 50 or 60 disciples, and many recovering opium addicts. Many of the hymns used in churches and the opium refuges were composed by Xi. These were published as Xi Shengmo Hymns by the Shanghai Presbyterian Press in 1912.
Xi was an independent, strong-willed man. For the most part, he was respectful in his relationships with the Western missionaries, although some of them fiercely proud themselves noted that he frequently manifested an anti-foreign attitude. Not all agreed with his charismatic emphasis, his desire for control, nor his use of opium refuges as the principal method in his evangelism. Despite character weaknesses of impatience, dogmatism, and authoritarianism, which mellowed with years, he eventually came to exercise a ministry widely described as apostolic. His pastoral gifts leadership were recognized in 1886 when Hudson Taylor ordained him as superintending pastor over a wide area in Shanxi. Three groups of missionariesâ-the seven CIM missionaries known as the Cambridge Seven, CIM single women, and CIM missionaries from Scandinaviaâ-worked under Xiâs direction. This reflected Taylorâs conviction that Western missionaries were merely the âscaffoldingâ in the building of an indigenous Chinese church.
In 1895, Xi planned a conference in his own home village with the purpose of enlarging the refuge work. Two hundred persons were present, and the last sermon that he preached was unusually solemn. At the close of the conference, he decided to visit Mr. Dixon Hoste, who later was to succeed Hudson Taylor as General Director of the China Inland Mission.
In the midst of genial conversation with Hoste, Xi fell to the ground unconscious. He rallied, suffering more from weakness than from pain. Within weeks, signs of a serious heart problem developed. For six months he remained with those who loved him. Xi ceased his labor and entered into everlasting rest on February 19, 1896.
Sources
Taylor, Mrs. Howard, Pastor Hsi: Confucian Scholar and Christian (1900; rev. 1949, 1989).
Austin, Alvyn James, âPilgrims and Strangers: The China Inland Mission in Britain, Canada, the United States and China 1865-1990â (Ph. D. diss., York University, North York, Ontario, 1996).
Broomhall, A. J., Assault on the Nine, Book 6: of Hudson Taylor and Chinaâs Open Century (1988).
Latourette, Kenneth Scott, A History of Christian Missions in China (1966).
About the Author
G. Wright Doyle, Director, Global China Center; English Editor, Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Christianity, Charlottesville, Virginia, USA.
I Lay My Life in Your Hands
Down through church history, Christians have referred to the seven statements Jesus spoke from the cross as the âlast wordsâ of Christ. According to tradition, the very last of these last words, which Jesus cried out before giving himself over to death, were these: âFather, into your hands I commit my spiritâ (Luke 23:46). It was a powerful, heartbreaking, poetic moment. God prayed to his God by quoting God-breathed Scripture. The Word of God died with the word of God on his lips. And it was a word of poetry, the first half of Psalm 31:5. Most of those gathered on Golgotha that dark afternoon likely knew these words well. They were nearly a lullaby, a prayer Jewish parents taught their children to pray just before giving themselves over to sleep for the night. So, in Jesusâs cry, they likely heard a dying manâs last prayer of committal before his final âfalling asleep.â And, of course, it was that. But thatâs not all it was. And every Jewish religious leader present would have recognized this if he were paying attention. For these men would have known this psalm of David very well. All of it. They would have known this prayer was uttered by a persecuted king of the Jews, pleading with God for rescue from his enemies. They also would have known it as a declaration of faith-fueled confidence that God would, in fact, deliver him. For when Jesus had recited the first half of Psalm 31:5, they would have been able to finish the second half from memory: âYou have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.â What Was Jesus Thinking? The most maddening thing for the Jewish rulers had always been trying to get inside Jesusâs head. What was he thinking? Who was he making himself out to be (John 8:53)? âThe Word of God died with the word of God on his lips.â Well, he had finally confirmed their suspicions at his trial: he believed himself to be Israelâs long-awaited Messiah (Matthew 26:63â64). It was true: he really did see himself as âthe son of Davidâ (Matthew 22:41â45). Now here he was, brutalized beyond recognition, quoting David with his last breath â a quote that, in context, seemed to make no sense in this moment: You are my rock and my fortress; and for your nameâs sake you lead me and guide me; you take me out of the net they have hidden for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God. (Psalm 31:3â5) What had Jesus been thinking? This should have been a moment of utter despair for him. David had prayed, âLet me never be put to shameâ (Psalm 31:1), but there Jesus was, covered in nothing but shame. David had prayed, âIn your righteousness deliver me!â (Psalm 31:1) But Jesus was dying a brutal death. In what possible way could he have believed at that moment that God was his refuge? David proved to be the Lordâs anointed because God had delivered him âout of the netâ of death. David committed his spirit into Godâs hand, and God had been faithful to him by redeeming him. But this so-called âson of Davidâ received no such deliverance, no such redemption. King Who Became a Reproach Yet, as they looked at that wasted body hanging on the cross, with a sign posted above it that read, âThis is Jesus, the King of the Jewsâ (Matthew 27:37), and pondered his final words, might some of them have perceived possible foreshadows of messianic suffering in this song of David? Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye is wasted from grief; my soul and my body also. For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my iniquity, and my bones waste away. Because of all my adversaries I have become a reproach, especially to my neighbors, and an object of dread to my acquaintances; those who see me in the street flee from me. (Psalm 31:9â11) This psalm recorded a moment when David, the most beloved king of the Jews in Israelâs history, had become a reproach. He had been accused, blamed, censured, charged. He had become an âobject of dreadâ to all who knew him; people had wanted nothing to do with him. He had âbeen forgotten like one who is deadâ; he had âbecome like a broken vesselâ (Psalm 31:12). Had this at all been in Jesusâs mind as he uttered his last prayer? David, of course, hadnât died. God delivered him and honored him. Surely he would do the same, and more, for the Messiah! After Death, Life Yet, there were those haunting words of the prophet Isaiah: âWe esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquitiesâ (Isaiah 53:4â5). Pierced. Crushed. Indeed, It was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. (Isaiah 53:10) It would have been unnerving to recall that Isaiahâs âsuffering servantâ is first âslaughteredâ like a sacrificial lamb (Isaiah 53:7) and then afterward âprolong[s] his days.â After death, life. Not only that, but God himself commends and promises to glorify him for his sacrifice: âBehold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exaltedâ (Isaiah 52:13). Had Jesus really believed, even as his life drained away, that he was the King of the Jews bearing reproach, the Suffering Servant? Was this woven into the fabric of his final cry? âMy Times Are in Your Handâ This self-understanding would make sense of Jesusâs physically agonizing yet spiritually peaceful resignation to the will of God as he died. Even more, it also would fit with his previous foretelling of his death and resurrection â something these leaders were quite cognizant of at that moment (Matthew 27:62â64). All this again aligned with the childlike faith and hope David had expressed in Psalm 31: I trust in you, O Lord; I say, âYou are my God.â My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors! Make your face shine on your servant; save me in your steadfast love! Oh, how abundant is your goodness, which you have stored up for those who fear you and worked for those who take refuge in you, in the sight of the children of mankind! (Psalm 31:14â16, 19) If any of the Jewish leaders (and others) had been paying careful attention to where Jesusâs words were drawn from, they would have heard more than a desperate manâs prayer before falling into deathly sleep. They also would have heard a faithful manâs expression of trust that his God held all his times in his hands, including that most terrible of times, and that his God had stored up abundant goodness for him, despite how circumstances appeared in the moment. Let Your Heart Take Courage I can only speculate what may have passed through the minds of the Jewish leaders as they heard the very last of Jesusâs last words. But I have no doubt that the words, âFather, into your hands I commit my spirit,â were pregnant with meaning from the entire psalm when the Word cried them out. âGod can be acting most faithfully in the very moments when it appears heâs not being faithful at all.â Which makes Jesusâs quotation of half of Psalm 31:5 the most profound and powerful commentary on this psalm ever made. We now read it through the lens of the crucified and risen Christ. And one crucial dimension we must not miss is this: at that moment of his death, no one but Jesus perceived the faithfulness of God at work. He shows us that God can be acting most faithfully in the very moments when it appears heâs not being faithful at all. We all experience such moments when we must, like Jesus, sit in the first half of Psalm 31:5 (âInto your hand I commit my spiritâ). As we sit, we can lean into the faithfulness of God to keep his word, trusting that he who holds all our times will bring to pass the second half of the verse when the time is right (âYou have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful Godâ). We can also, with David, sing the psalm all the way to the end: Love the Lord, all you his saints! The Lord preserves the faithful but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride. Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord! (Psalm 31:23â24) Article by Jon Bloom