Editorial
THE X FACTOR
WHY do we have so much turmoil in the United States, in the world? Why all the revolt, the looting, burning, and killing? Almost everyone has some kind of an answer. The blacks blame it on the whites. The whites blame it on the blacks. The young blame it on the old and the old on the young. The administration blames it on a lack of funds to finance its war on poverty. The opposition party blames it on the inept programs of the administration. Some blame it on the war; others trace it to the communist influence in this country.
One news commentator places at least part of the blame on what he called "The X Factor." That unknown quantity or element that causes a city to explode into a roaring holocaust at a particular time, at a particular place, and in a particular way. That mysterious something which no one can definitely put his finger on and say: "This is what caused it all," The news man chose to call it "the X factor." He says it is present in every explosive situation.
The Bible calls it SIN.
The basic problem of the human race, whether black or white, young or old, rich or poor, is spelled S-I-N!!! It was sin that murdered Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It was sin that burned and looted our cities. It is sin that produces the sordid stories which fill our newspapers. Sin reigning in the heart of man, having dominion over him. These atrocities we witness on every hand are merely symptoms of this cancer of the soul. Where sin rules the heart, we need not be surprised at anything the human animal thinks up to do.
Since man's basic problem is sin, his basic need is CHRIST!!! Where Jesus Christ reigns in the heart of man, sin no longer has dominion over him (read Romans 6). The person with Christ in his life will not revolt against the properly constituted authority; he will not murder, steal, and destroy (Romans 13; Ephesians 4:28; Philippians 2:3). The Christ dominated individual believes the Word of God and puts it into practice. He knows the Bible says, "Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, sorcery, hatred, strife, jealousy, wrath, factions, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revelings, and the like; of which I tell you . . . that they who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God" (Galatians 5:19-21).
The Bible says that Christ died for our sins. The blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin. We appropriate this for ourselves when we put our trust in Him who died for us. The Bible declares that Christ was raised from among the dead. He lives today at the Father's right hand to give us victory over sin. this becomes a reality as we yield to Him our all, the Holy Spirit working in us through the instrumentality of the Word of God.
Now, one final word. Like the rest of the human race, YOUR greatest problem is sin. Your greatest need is Christ. Do you recognize your problem? Have you received Christ as your Savior? Time is running out. Do quickly what you know you must do. Our prayers are with you. God bless you.
-- a.e.g.
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"I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep." -- Jesus.
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THE DEATH OF JESUS CHRIST
( ITS NATURE )
Of what precisely did Christ's death consist?
First we must ask: What is death?
The word "death," when applied to human beings in the Bible bears the idea of separation. The word in this sense is applied to two distinct experiences: Separation from God, and separation of spirit and body.
Man first experienced the former in the Garden of Eden. God told our first parents, "Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." In spite of this warning the woman "took of the fruit thereof, and did eat; and she gave also unto her husband with her, and he did eat." And the result being: "Therefore Jehovah God sent him (and his wife) forth from the garden . . . He drove out the man (and his wife)." Thus we have man's spiritual death -- separation from God.
From that time till this, and as a direct result of that experience, mankind has also experienced physical death, or separation of spirit and body. The description of Rachel's death is significant: "And it came to pass, as her soul was departing (for she died) . . ." This is what happens every time a human dies, his soul and spirit depart the body, The soul and spirit live on; the body is placed in the grave to await the resurrection.
The death of Christ involved both of these experiences.
As to His separation from God we read in Matthew: "And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice (from the cross), saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" There is much of mystery here that no man can fathom. How the eternal Son, one with the Father, could be forsaken by the Father is beyond our understanding. But we know this much, He took our place, and bore our sins, and entered into our doom. Hence, He must go into the darkness alone forsaken of God.
As to Christ's physical death, we read: "And Jesus cried again with a loud voice, and yielded up his spirit." Notice the order of these two experiences: First forsaken of God; then physical death. Since Christ was sinless, death could not come to Him from what we call natural causes; only after God abandons Him, does physical death come.
Why did God forsake Him? Because of sin -- not his own, but ours. Sin is of infinite character and can be satisfied only one of two ways: Either in duration of time or in infinite force. If we elect to pay our own penalty for sin, it will be paid in duration of time -- an eternity in hell fire. But how foolish, for Christ has paid for our sin in infinite force when He died on the cross. Ours is only to believe in Him.
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I HAD NOT REALLY CARED
by Mrs. Wolston
Many years ago I wanted to go as a foreign missionary, but my way seemed hedged about, and as years came and passed I went to live on the Pacific Coast. Life was rough in the mining country where I lived. I heard of a man who lived over the hills and was dying of consumption, and they said, "He is so vile no one can stand it to stay with him, so the boys place some food by him and leave him for twenty-four hours." And added, "they'll find him dead some time, and the quicker the better never had a soul, I guess."
The pity of it haunted me as I went about my work, and I tried for three days to get someone to go and see him and find out if he was in need of better care. As I turned from the last man, vexed with his indifference, the thought came to me, "Why don't you go yourself? Here's missionary work if you want it." It had not occurred to me before that I could go.
At last one day I went over the hills to the little cabin. It was just one room. The door stood open, and up on one corner on some straw and colored blankets I found the dying man. Sin had left awful marks on his face, and if I had not heard that he could not move I would have retreated hastily. As my shadow fell over the floor, he looked up and greeted me with a dreadful oath. I stepped forward a little, and there came another oath. "Don't speak so, my friend," I said. "I ain't your friend. I ain't got any friends," he said. "Well, I am yours and . . . " But the oaths came thicker as he said, "You ain't my friend. I never had any friends and I don't want any now."
I reached out at arms' length the fruit I had brought him, and stepping back to the doorway I asked him if he remembered his mother, hoping to find a tender place in his heart; but he cursed her. I asked if he ever had a wife, and he cursed her. I spoke of God, and he cursed Him. I tried to speak of Jesus and His death for us, but he stopped me with his oaths and said, "That's all a life. Nobody ever died for others."
I went away discouraged. I said to myself, "I knew it was no use." The next day I went back again, and I went every day for two weeks, but he did not show gratitude a dog would have shown. At the end of that time I said, "I am not going any more." That night when I was putting my little boys to bed, I did not pray for the miner as I had been accustomed to do. My little Charlie noticed it and said, "Mama, you did not pray for the bad man." "No," I answered with a sigh. "Have you given him up, mama?" "Yes, I guess so." "Has God given him up, mama? Ought you to give him up before God does?"
That night I could not sleep. The man dying, and so vile with no one to care. I got up and went away by myself to pray, but the moment I touched my knees, I was overpowered by the sense of how little meaning there had been to my prayers. I had had no faith, and I had not really cared beyond a kind of half-hearted sentiment. Oh, the shame, the shame of my missionary zeal! I fell on my face literally, as I cried, "Oh Christ, give me a little glimpse of the worth of a human soul." I stayed on my knees until Calvary became a reality to me. I cannot describe those hours. They came and went unheeded, but I learned that night what I had never learned before. I stayed there until the answer came.
As I went back to my room my husband said, "How about your miner?" "He is going to be saved," I said. "How are you going to do it?" he asked. "The Lord is going to save him, and I don't know as I shall do anything about it," I replied.
Next morning brought a lesson in Christian work never learned before. I had waited on other days until the afternoon when my work being over I could change my dress, put on my gloves and take a walk while the shadows were on the hillsides. That day, the moment my little boys went off to school I left my work, and, without waiting for gloves or shadows, hurried over the hills, not to see "that vile wretch," but to win a soul. I thought the man might die. There was a human soul in the balance, and I wanted to get there quickly.
As I passed on, a neighbor came out of her cabin and said, "I'll go over the hills with you, I guess."
I did not want her, but that was another lesson for me. God could plan better than I could. She had her little girl with her and as we reached the cabin she said, "I'll wait out here, and you hurry, won't you?"
I do not know what I expected, but the man greeted me with an awful oath; but it did not hurt as it did before; for I was behind Christ, and I stayed there. I could bear what struck Him first.
While I was changing the basin of water and towel for him, things which I had done every day and which he had used but never thanked me for, the clear laugh of the little girl rang out upon the air like a bird note. "What's that?" said the man eagerly. "It's a little girl outside who is waiting for me." "Would you mind letting her come in?" said he, in a different tone from any I had heard before.
Stepping to the door I beckoned to her, and then taking her by the hand said, "Come in, and see the sick man, Mamie." She shrank back as she saw his face, and said, "I'm afraid"; but I assured her with, "Poor sick man, he can't get up and he want to see you."
She looked like an angel; her face framed in golden curls and her eyes tender and pitiful. In her hand she held the flowers she had picked off the purple sage bush, and bending towards him she said, "I sorry for 'ou, sick man. Will you have a posy?"
He laid his great bony hand beyond the flowers on the plump hand of the child, and the great tears came into his eyes as he said, "I had a little girl once, and she died. Her name was Mamie. She cared for me. Nobody else did. Guess I'd been different if she'd lived. I've hated everybody since she died." I knew I had the key to the man's heart, and the thought came quickly, born of that midnight prayer service: "When I spoke of your mother and your wife you cursed them, and i know now that they were not good women or you could not have done it, for I never knew a man who could curse a good mother."
"Good women! Oh, you don't know nothin' 'bout that kind of women. You can't think what they was." "Well, if your little girl had lived and grown up with them, wouldn't she have been just like them? Would you have liked to have her live for that? He evidently had not thought of it, and his great eyes looked away for a full minute. As they came back to mine he cried, "Oh! God, no! I'd killed her first. I'm glad she died."
Reaching out and taking the poor hand I said, "The dear Lord didn't want her to be like them. He loved her even better than you did. So He took her away where she could be cared for by the angels. He is keeping her for you. Today she is waiting for you. Don't you want to see her again?"
"Oh, I'd be willing to be burnt alive a thousand times over if I could just see my little gal once more, my little Mamie."
"Oh, friends, you know, what a blessed story I had to tell that hour, and I had been so close to Calvary that night that I tell it in earnest! The poor face grew ashy pale as I talked, and the man threw up his arms a though his agony was mastering him. Two or three times he gasped as though losing breath. Then clutching me he said, "What's that, woman, you said t'other day 'bout talkin' to somebody out o' sight?" "It's praying. I tell Him what I want." "Pray now, pray quick. Tell Him I want my little gal again. Tell Him anything you want to."
I took the hands of the child, and placed them on the trembling head of the man. Then dropping on my knees with the child in front of me, I bade her pray for the man who had lost his little Mamie and wanted to see her again. As nearly as I remember, this was Mamie's prayer:
"Dear Jesus, this man is sick. He has lost his 'ittle girl and he feels bad about it. I's so sorry for him, and he's so sorry too. Won't You help him and show him where to find his 'ittle girl? Do please. Amen."
Heaven seemed to open before us. There stood One with the prints of the nails in His hands and the wound in His side.
Mamie slipped away soon, but the man kept saying. "Tell Him more 'bout it, tell Him everything; but oh, you don't know." Then he poured out such a torrent of confession that I could not have borne it but for the One who was close to us that hour.
By and by the poor man grasped the strong Hands. It was the third day when the poor tired soul turned from everything to Him, the Mighty to save, "The Man who died for me."
He lived on for weeks, as if God would show how real was the change. I had been telling him one day about a meeting, and he said, "I'd like to go to a meetin' once. I never went to one of them things."
So we planned a meeting, and the boys came from the mills and the mines, and filled the room. "Now boys," he said, "get down on your knees while she tells 'bout the Man that died for me."
I found myself talking, and I tried to tell the simple story of the Cross. After a while he said, "Oh, boys, you don't half believe it or you'd cry: you couldn't help it. Boys raise me up, I'd like to tell it once."
So they raised him up, and between his short breathing and coughing he told the story. He had to use the language he knew.
"Boys," he said, "you know how the water runs down the sluice boxes and carries of all the dirt and leaves the gold behind. Well the Blood of that Man she tells about, went right over me just like that: it carried off 'bout everything. But it left enough for me to see Mamie and to see the Man that died for me. Oh, boys, can't you love Him?"
Some days after that there came a look into his face that told the end had come. I had to leave him, and I said, "What shall I say tonight Jack?" "Just goodnight," he said. "What will you say to me when we meet again?" "I'll say 'good morning' up there."
The next morning the door was closed, and I found two of the boys sitting silently by a board stretched across two stools. They turned back the sheet from the head, and I looked on the face, which seemed to have come back nearer to the "image of God."
"I wish you could have seen him when he went," they said. "Tell me about it." "Well, all at once he brightened up 'bout midnight an' smilin' said, 'I'm goin' boys. Tell her I'm going to see Mamie. Tell her I'm going to see the Man that died for me," an' he was gone."
Kneeling there, with my hands over those poor cold ones that had been stained with human blood, I asked to understand more and more the worth of a human soul, and to be drawn into deeper sympathy with Christ's yearning compassion, "not willing that any should perish."
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WHERE WILL YOU HIDE
by H. BOIES
Modern science has invented nuclear weapons so fearful that millions of people can be killed in a matter of seconds. Scientists tell us that a 20 megaton bomb (one thousand times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb) exploded over one of the world's large cities would make a crater six hundred and forty feet deep -- dissolving steel and concrete into nothingness. This crater would be a little over a mile wide. The fireball of this weapon would not be a few yards wide but four and a half miles! The blast effect of this weapon would cause earthquakes around the glove. The winds created by its blast would be in excess of 1,000 miles an hour -- ten times hurricane speed and more! Heat and thermal-radiation would burn the clothes off a man at 20 miles and cause exposed skin to be scorched at 45 miles.
Can you imagine this? Or is it too awesome for you to conceive? Those who found themselves in the safety (?) of bomb shelters would soon be destroyed by asphyxiation, because the all-consuming fires that come in the wake of the explosion would consume every last atom of oxygen. Three out of four persons would be killed outright by the radiation -- within the first few days at least seven million would die!
Fantastic? Yes, indeed, but completely within the realm of possibility in our world today! For men now possess enough nuclear power to destroy every living thing upon this earth. Dr. Leo Szilard of the University of Chicago asserted not long ago: "It would take only 500 tons of heavy hydrogen in one H Bomb or a number of them to make a dust that would kill everyone in the world." The words of the Apostle Peter in 2 Peter 3:7, "The earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up," are not so hard to believe any longer.
And so, my friends, if you are trusting in your underground shelter, it is no use. But -- there is a very real hiding place for you.
Can you say with the Psalmist, David: "God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore I will not fear though the earth be removed and though the mountains be cast into the midst of the sea."
Let the bombs fall and the storms of life blow -- you can be secure.
Every thinking man or woman today knows that our world is in great convulsion -- social -- racial -- economic convulsion. Leaders of nations throughout the world disappear overnight. Governments rise and fall like the waves of the sea. The winds of change, uncertainty and fear blow with ever increasing fury. When the storms of this life overtake you -- where will you hide?
The night is deepening and darkness is overtaking this age, and yet it is still one of the great mysteries of this life that men continue to try to hide from God. It has been so from the beginning of recorded history. Adam and Eve hid in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3:8). Jonah took a ship to Tarsus and put out to sea in his effort to escape God (Jonah 1:17). Men and women today still will do almost anything to escape the presence of God. When they come face to face with Him, they flee as though He were a plague -- never seeming to know that He is the One who loves them and gave His only Son a ransom for their souls.
Try as you may -- you cannot hide from God!
"Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee" (Psalm 139:7-12).
Why not say with David today, "Thou art my hiding place and my shield" (Psalm 119:14), and "Thou art a hiding place for me, thou preservest me from trouble, Thou dost encompass me with deliverance" (Psalm 42:7-8).
If you have not put your trust in Jesus, you have every reason to be afraid. But -- God in His great love sent His Son into this world to redeem you. He came for one reason only -- to die for you, that you may live forever.
Have you found a better hiding place? Have you found one better in whom to trust? Where can you go? There is no security in the When the storms of this life overtake you, when misfortune catches up with you, when your business fails or when health is gone -- or a loved one is cold in death -- to whom will you go then?
Jesus said: "Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest."
Why not trust HIM today and find the only real and secure hiding place left for you in a world tottering on the brink of disaster? Why not say with David: " . . . in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a rock" (Psalm 27:5). And that Rock is Christ. We may tremble on the Rock, but the Rock will never tremble under us.
From a tract published by "Lone Star Mission," Austin, Texas.
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