Freed To Preach

Freed To Preach

There is neither slave nor free man.

IN 1812 a slave Baptist preacher died on the plantation of the Peachy family in Virginia, leaving a pregnant wife. The young widow dedicated her unborn child to the Lord. Her continual prayer was, “Lord, if dis chile you’s sendin’ me is a boy, doan’ let him do nuthin’ else but sing de praises of Jesus.” When the child was born, she named him John after John the Baptist.

John Jasper grew up as a prodigal son, but his mother persevered in prayer for him. John was eventually purchased by Samuel Hargrove, a deacon at the First Baptist Church in Richmond, Virginia.

Hargrove put John to work in his tobacco factory, and on July 25, 1839, God answered his mother’s prayers. John Jasper loved to tell the story of what happened that day:

One July mornin’ somethin’ happen’d. . . . Fac’ is, bruthr’n, de darkness of death was in my soul dat mornin’. My sins was piled on me like mount’ns; my feet was sinkin’ down to de reguns of despar, an’ I felt dat of all sinners I was de wust. I tho’t dat I would die right den, an’ wid what I supposed was my lars breath I flung up to heav’n a cry for mercy. ‘Fore I kno’d it, de light broke; I was light as a feather; my feet was on de mount’n; salvation rol’d like a flood thru my soul, an’ I felt as if I could ‘nock off de fact’ry roof wid my shouts. . . .

‘Twan’ long ‘fore I looked up de line agin, an’ dar was a good ol’ woman dar dat know all my sorrers, an’ had been prayin’ fur me all de time. I had to tell her, an’ so I skip along up quiet as a breeze, an’ start’d to whisper in her ear, but just den de holin-back straps of Jasper’s breachin’ broke, an’ what I tho’t would be a whisper was loud enuf to be hearn clean ‘cross Jeems River. . . . All I know’d I had raise my fust shout to de glory of my Redeemer.

But for one thing thar would er been a jin’ral revival in de fact’ry dat mornin’. Dat one thing was de overseer. He bulg’d into de room, an’ wid a voice dat sounded like he had his breakfus dat mornin’ on rasps an’ files, bellowed out: “What’s all dis row ‘bout?” Somebody shouted out dat John Jasper dun got religun, but dat didn’t work ‘tall wid de boss. He tell me to git back to my table . . . so I sed: “Yes, sir, I will; I ain’t meant no harm; de fus taste of salvation got de better un me, but I’ll git back to my work.” An’ I tell you I got back quick.

Bout dat time Mars Sam he come out’n his orfis, an’ he say: “What’s de matter out here?” An’ I hear de overseer tellin’ him: “John Jasper kick up a fuss, an’ say he dun got religun.”

Little aft’r I hear Mars Sam tell de overseer he want to see Jasper . . . I sez to him: “ . . . Jes’ now out dar at de table God tuk my sins away, an’ set my feet on a rock. I didn’t mean to make no noise, Mars Sam, but ‘fore I know’d it de fires broke out in my soul, an’ I jes’ let go one shout to de glory of my Saviour.” Mars Sam’s face was rainin’ tears.

Hargrove gave John Jasper his freedom so that he could preach, and preach he did. He founded the Sixth Mount Zion Baptist Church in Richmond with nine members. At the time of his death in 1901, it had grown to over two thousand.

Reflection

Could just any pastor build a church of two thousand slaves and former slaves? Probably not. God called and used John Jasper because he was uniquely equipped to fulfill God’s purpose for him. What is God’s purpose for your life? He can use you just as he used John Jasper.

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.

Ephesians 2:10