“Some day, I may write a parable story about a shadow,” reflected the author, John Wright Follette. “Years ago it was suggested to me while visiting one of the old Missions, all enclosed and shut in. I saw there a lovely pepper tree growing outside the high wall throwing its shadow over the wall and moving in such mysterious patterns of lace and figures. As my wandering mind played there, I saw an old monk in the Mission who used to come and sit in the shadow made by the tree, but he never saw the tree. The dear tree never could go over the wall and see and know so much he would like, but he could throw his shadow where he never in the world could go, and the dear monk was blessed.
“As I began to talk to the shadows, the first few lines of this poem came to me:
"‘I love the soft, gray shadows
On the ancient mission wall—
Evasive, restless, changing
As they sway and toss and fall
In patterns quite fantastic
Full of poetry and art
Richer far than any sold
In a money-grasping mart.
And when the wind is quiet
And the shadows are at rest
I try to trace their meaning.
And although I do my best,
I never find the secret
For the shadows never tell
What mean the soft, gray patterns
Though I’m sure they know full well.'"
Later, in a personal letter, the author related the following experience, while further reflecting on his poem:
“One day the Lord blessed a verse of scripture to my heart which wove itself into the pattern of this thought about a shadow. It was 2 Corinthians 2:14:
‘Now thanks be to God, which always causeth me to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of His knowledge by us in every place . . .'
‘He maketh manifest the savour of His knowledge by us in every place,’ seemed to ‘come alive,’ and the Holy Spirit began to show me things.
“In looking up Moffatt’s translation, it be came clearer still: ‘Wherever I go, thank God, he makes my life a constant pageant of triumph in Christ, diffusing the perfume of his knowledge everywhere by me.’
“The Amplified New Testament, too, is good:
‘But thanks be to God, Who in Christ always leads us in triumph-as trophies of Christ’s victory-and through us spreads and makes evident the fragrance of the knowledge of God everywhere.'
“I was struck dumb at the thought that we may become-and should be-merely the fragrance-never the Source itself. The Holy Spirit made me to sense the wonder and secret joy of being hidden. Only the sweetness and fragrance are manifest. That is as it really should be. Christ is the Source and Cause and Reality. We are not seen, only the perfume is evident. Whoever saw or heard a perfume! These scriptures recalled a thought I had years ago.
“I always enjoyed teaching in Bible school because it was not a public ministry. (I never liked public work). There I had my little group who soon adjusted to me, being understanding and tolerant. We enjoyed a delightful, spiritual atmosphere and the wonderful presence of God. Such cannot be easily created or maintained if the number increases, because then there are too many levels of understanding and receptivity.
“Later on, God took me out of Bible school and my dear student group and put me on the field for a ministry around the world—Europe, India, Africa . . . It was an awful experience to me; it was really a death, for nothing in me ever desired public meetings. Crushed in spirit before the Lord, I prayed:
‘Dear Lord, I want to help people and feed and teach them, but I just don’t like to be seen or known. Please, can’t You make me a shadow? Then, where needy, hungry souls are waiting, I could pass over them, like a shadow, and they would be fed, healed, and blessed, but would never know from whence the blessing came. Like the dear Holy Spirit we don’t see Him, but Oh! what help He brings when He passes by and breathes on us, or suddenly sweeps through!'
“God gave me victory, as He always does, in adjusting to public meetings. In the days that followed, He blessed in camp meetings, conferences, and retreats and fed thousands that I could never have touched had I stayed in Bible school or college. As I ministered, He lifted me from the natural sense of things into the realm of Spirit, and I was refreshed; my own heart was fed and often helped while He poured His Word through me. Though He never removed the dislike for public ministry, He gave me such a desire to help people and I came to love all broken humanity.”
Today, John Wright Follette’s ministry still reaches over the wall, bringing refreshment to many around the world. His poem, “Shadows on a Mission Wall” was never finished in his lifetime—it could not be finished then, for it is still being written as the shadows move over the pages of the contemplative sitting on this side of the wall. The fragrance of this rare and humble spirit is still spreading, diffusing “the perfume of His knowledge everywhere” through his writings. Lowly of heart, and desiring that Christ alone be seen, he truly personified the one he depicted in “Hidden Ministry”[^1] who opened wide the door to the Wise Men that came to seek the Christ Child, taking his place behind the door that the Radiance be not blurred.
Footnotes
[^1] “Hidden Ministry” is published in another book, “A Christmas Wreath,” and is one of 46 of John Wright Follette’s Christmas poems.