John Paton: Surrounded, Afraid, and Guarded by Angels (Psalm 91)

The true story of missionary John Paton and the night angels guarded his mission house (Psalm 91).

What do you do when the cannibals are coming and you've already buried your wife and son?

In 1858, John Paton sailed to the New Hebrides — a chain of Pacific islands where the previous missionaries had been killed and eaten within minutes of landing. He buried his wife and infant son in the first year. He slept with one eye open. And one night, a war party of hundreds of warriors surrounded his mission house, intent on killing him.

He prayed. They left.

Years later, the chief who led that war party became a Christian. Paton finally got to ask him: "Why didn't you kill me that night?" The chief's answer is one of the most stunning lines in missionary history. "Who were all those men with you there?"

Paton was alone. The chief had seen a host.

If you've ever wondered whether God really sees you in the dark, whether He really protects His people, whether there might be more standing around your life than you can see — this 5-minute devotional is for you.

Scripture: Psalm 91:11 · 2 Kings 6:17 · Hebrews 13:5

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Keep Looking Up. — Pastor Rodney Coe

#JohnPaton #ChristianMissionary #Psalm91 #AngelsAroundUs #LiftUpYourDay #TrueStoriesOfFaith #ChristianDevotional

Transcript

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Hello everybody and welcome to another Take Five on Lift Up Your Day. I'm Pastor Rodney and today I want to tell you a story. A story about a missionary, a story about a cannibal chief, and a story about some men, some shining men that are rarely visible in the physical realm. Pull up a chair, pour yourself a cup of coffee, or listen on the drive to work. And let me tell you what happened on an island in the South Pacific in the year of our Lord 1862. His name was John Patton. He was a Scotsman, a preacher's son, a man with the eyes the color of the Highland Sea and a heart the size of the gospel he carried. When he told his church in Glasgow he was going as a missionary to the New Hebrides, an island chain in the South Pacific where the natives were cannibals, an old deacon stood up and said, Young man, you'll be eaten by cannibals. And John Patton, well, John Patton looked at the old deacon and said, Mr. Dixon, you are advanced in years now, and your own prospect is soon to be laid in a grave. They're to be eaten by worms. I confess to you that if I can but live and die serving the Lord Jesus, it will make no difference to me whether I am eaten by cannibals or by worms. And off he went. He buried his first wife on that island, he buried his baby boy on that island. He dug the graves himself with a shovel and his own tears. He still stayed. Still he preached, still he loved the people who wanted him dead. But then came the night. A chief from a neighboring tribe had decided that John Patton had to die. The mission station had to burn, and whatever strange new god this Scotsman was preaching, well, he had to be quiet. The drums began after sundown, they rolled through the jungle like thunder. John Patton heard the footsteps, he saw the torches flickering through the trees, and he knew he knew that night he was going to die. He and his second wife knelt on the wooden floor of that little mission house, they prayed for God to spare them, they prayed for God to save them, they prayed through the long, dark hours of the night, and then nothing happened. The drums stopped, the torches flickered out in the jungle, morning broke over the mission house with the song of birds and the rustling of palm leaves and the trade winds, and John Patton wiped the sweat from his brow and lived another day. I came walking up the path to the mission station. He was not carrying a spear, he was carrying a question. He had heard the gospel, he'd believed, and now he wanted to be baptized. And John Patton, pouring him a cup of tea in the shade of a breadfruit tree, finally asked a question that had haunted him for twelve long months. Chief, that night you came to kill us. Why didn't you attack? The old chief looked at him with wide, wondering eyes and said, Now listen to this. Who were all those men you had with you that night, missionary? John Patton said, What men? There were no men. My wife and I were all by ourselves. The chief shook his head slowly. No, we saw them, hundreds of them, big men, shining men, standing all around your house in a great circle with swords drawn, keeping watch. We were afraid. So we turned and ran. John Patton sat down his teacup, and somewhere in the Scottish Presbyterian memory of his, an old pilgrim song must have come rushing back, that they used to sing as they traveled up the Temple Mount. Psalm 125, as the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth, even forever. You see, the Jews sang that song as they looked up and saw the mountains. Mountains to the east, mountains to the west, mountains to the south, mountains to the north, their holy city sat in a lap of hills, and they knew our God surrounds us like that. But the cannibal chief on that island, he didn't see mountains that night. He saw men, shining men, standing in a grey, unbroken rain, swords drawn, keeping watch, same God, same promise, same ring of protection, three thousand years apart. And I wonder, I wonder how many times you and I have walked away from a disaster we didn't even know was coming. How many times a rod was lifted and we never saw it fall? How many times the enemy was turned back at the edge of the clearing? How many nights we slept safe and snoring while shining men stood round about us ring after ring around our houses. You don't have to see them to be surrounded by them. You don't have to feel them to be sheltered by them. You don't have to understand the providence to be covered by it. The Lord is round about his people from henceforth even forever. Psalm 911 says, For he shall give his angels charge over you to keep you in all your ways. John Patton lived to be seventy-seven years old. He translated the Bible into the language of the Anowan people. He saw an entire island come to Christ, and when he died, they carved on his tombstone the words of a man who had been surrounded all his life by a God he could not see. I'm Pastor Rodney, reminding you wherever you are today, whatever you're facing, whatever footsteps you think you hear in the jungle around you, you are not alone. Keep looking up. May God bless your day.