Aksel Smith

Aksel Smith was also one of the chief pillars in the begin­ning of the church. He died in 1919, only 38 years old. He was the first one to suggest that they start publishing a paper. He said: “It is unacceptable for us to sit and talk together about these glorious truths that burn within us. We must start print­ing a paper so that God’s light can be spread further.” Aksel thus became the co-editor of Skjulte Skatter from its incep­tion in January 1912 right up until January 1919 when God took him home after a job well done.

Aksel Smith was exceptionally gentle and good and did many good deeds. As a dentist he was well-off and supported Skjulte Skatter financially, as it was initially unable to support itself. And in many other instances he was extremely chari­table and generous. Many people would speak of his generos­ity, even years after his premature death. According to some, he gave away more than he earned.

His goodness made him a wonderful shepherd. Because of his zeal, he won six sisters for the Lord in Drøbak, who be­came the foundation of the church there. Half a year after Smith’s death, Thorolf Eriksen and Otto Baltzersen also came to the church there.

Aksel Smith died in triumph and victory. Johan O. Smith writes the following in Skjulte Skatter about his departure: “On the morning of the 16th, the brothers and sisters stood around his bed. His half-closed eyes were glazed from con­stant sleeplessness, his face was deeply lined, and his voice was weak. In this atmosphere of heavy sorrow, he asked a sister to play a song on the piano, “Round about Jerusalem Are High Mountains.” At that moment, an unconverted woman fell to her knees at his bed seeking salvation in Jesus Christ, and the brothers and sisters wept. Then he pointed to them one at a time and gave a loving and strikingly appropri­ate exhortation to each one. We were all amazed at how thor­oughly and intimately he knew each one, and how clear his thoughts were so far into death. His wife asked him, “What do you want me to do when you’re gone?” He said, “Take up your cross.” A sister asked, “What is the best way I can express my thanks to you for what you have meant to me?” He answered, “By doing good wherever it is needed.”

He said to one, “Never depart from the temple of the Lord.” To another one, “Pray without ceasing.” To a third, “He who is faithful in that which is least is also faithful in that which is great. Tend the lambs.” Even young boys and girls were brought to his bedside. He had a word of exhortation and comfort for all of them, and they all went away from him weeping.

Around noon the same day the doctor arrived. Again a group of us stood around him. Aksel asked: “How long can this last—a couple of hours?” The doctor said there was not much hope, but he could not determine the time. Then Aksel pointed to his chest and said: “Here, within, I have an eternal life. I believe in Jesus Christ.” Then he asked a sister to play, “Like the Streams of the Southland, Homeward I’m Bound.” The doctor wept together with the rest of us. “Jesus is here, and the angels are all around me,” Aksel said. When I asked him if he had something to share with the brothers and sisters via Skjulte Skatter, he said, “Yes, receive the teachings that pertain to godliness; they work.” “Do you want me to greet the brothers and sisters in the paper?” “Yes.”

He was the one God used to draw out wisdom from his brother, Johan O. Smith, so that we too, could benefit from it through his books, letters and articles in Skjulte Skatter. Aksel Smith leaves behind a number of books and tracts about the inner life and a development in that life, which have been edifying and strengthening for many.

The Barber in Drøbak

My father, Helge Smith, started a workshop in Drøbak in 1946. It was a small town, and everyone knew one another. So when we moved there, it didn’t take long for people to realize that someone new had moved in. On many occasions he has told about the time he went to the barber, an aging man named Jacobsen. I’ll let him tell the story:

The first time I went to Jacobsen for a haircut, he asked me:

“Where do you come from? I can see you’re not from Drøbak.”

“No, I’m not from Drøbak; I’m from Horten,” I answered.

“May I ask your name?” Jacobsen asked.

“My name is Helge Smith.”

“You wouldn’t be related to Aksel Smith, would you?” he asked.

“Yes, Aksel Smith was my uncle,” I replied.

“Then I have something incredible to tell you,” said Jacobsen. “I don’t normally believe in the supernatural, but I’ll tell you something amazing. I have asked many people about this, but no one can give me an explanation.”

“What is it then, this incredible, supernatural thing you have experienced?” I asked.

“Well, when Aksel Smith lived here in Drøbak, he always used to come to me for a haircut. The incredible thing was that every time he walked into the shop, I never needed to turn around to see who was coming in the door. I noticed that. Also, whenever he entered, I would suddenly become very happy, as if I’d just won the lottery. Now, if that had happened just once, it wouldn’t be anything to talk about, but this hap­pened every single time he came. I have never experienced anything supernatural, but this was surely supernatural. Can you explain it to me?”

“Have you heard of the prophet Daniel?” I asked.

“Yes, I have heard about Daniel, but I’m no Bible scholar,” said Jacobsen.

“Because of his godliness, Daniel received an excellent spirit. Even though King Darius was tricked by the governors and satraps to make a law forbidding the people to pray to anyone other than himself, he discovered that everything Daniel said was true and correct. That was because of Daniel’s excellent spirit and his godliness. That’s also how Uncle Aksel was. There was an excellent spirit in him. When Aksel came in, the whole room was filled with a Spirit that bore witness to who he was. Because of his godliness, you knew who was coming in without having to look,” I told him.

“You are the first person who has been able to explain this to me, and I believe that it was as you say,” said Jacobsen. “All of Drøbak knew he was a deeply religious man, so that com­parison you made with the Bible could well be true.”

The Barber on Rosenkrantz Street, Oslo

In 1947 my father had to go to Oslo to collect payment for a delivery he had made. He popped into the barbershop on Rosenkrantz Street for a haircut on the way. Suddenly he heard someone mention the dentist, Aksel Smith. He was cu­rious and listened more attentively.

It turned out that it was an old fisherman who was talking about fishing conditions back in 1914.

“The fishing that year was hopeless—the catch and the earnings were very poor. Once while I was fishing I got a hor­rible toothache. It was so bad that I had to stop and go back in to Drøbak. I looked up a dentist, a very religious man. He ex­amined my tooth and extracted it and cleaned the wound. At the same time, he took a look at the rest of my teeth and said:

“‘You have something on the other side as well which will develop into a terrible toothache if you don’t have it fixed. I suggest you come back tomorrow.’

“I couldn’t bear the thought of having that pain again, so I decided to come back the next day. The only thing troubling me was how I was going to pay for it. I didn’t actually have any money. The next day I went back to the dentist, and all the while I was thinking about how I was going to pay for all the work he had done on my teeth. I knew he had been working for a whole hour.

“When it was time to pay, I asked: ‘How much does all this cost?’

“‘It doesn’t cost anything, my good man,’ answered the dentist.

“It was as though he had looked straight through me and knew how poorly it was going with me. Have you ever been to a dentist like that?” asked the old fisherman.

“And not only that! As I crossed the square in Drøbak, I put my hand in my pocket and found a twenty crown coin he had given me.”

A bus driver who had grown up in Drøbak during the time Aksel Smith lived there once said to my father, “You’re re­lated to Aksel Smith—he was a good man. When I was a little boy he said to me: ‘Do you love Jesus? You must, if you want to have a good life here on earth.’”

He loved people! The oldest children of Johan O. Smith spent holidays with Aksel Smith and his wife Helga, and Aksel looked after them well and spoke to them so kindly.