wonderful strength and beauty and found its place in poetry and song.
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for
his friends, said Jesus. Ah! there is the best friend of all--Jesus!
And what did He do? Well, He did this, which proves it:
There came a day when you and I were fugitives from the king--not a
tyrant king, like Saul, but a just and holy God; not an innocent
fugitive, like David, but a sinner meriting the King's wrath and
curse; and One stood in the councils of Eternity--the Great White
Prince--and said, "Father, forgive him; let me take his place; let me
suffer his punishment; let me bear his shame; but him forgive and
restore to a place in court and to the joy of the Royal Service."
And the King consented, and the Son came to earth and died upon the
cross to satisfy the law and make it possible for you and me, fugitive
sinners, to return to the King's Table--forgiven and restored!
Let's go!
_Read the twentieth chapter of 1 Samuel._
XIX
ALABASTER
Say, fellows, a bunch of college students were talking over the news
that had come to the campus that morning about Bob Allman. They were
not only surprised; they were mad, for "Bob Allman had done the
biggest fool thing ever committed by any decent fellow that the
college had sent out,"--that was the unanimous verdict. And of all the
bunch in last year's graduating class, Bob was the last one you would
have suspected of such a thing, he had so much at stake. He was the
clearest-headed, the best-balanced, the finest physical specimen, the
smartest chap in the lot. Bob was one of those rare fellows who could
stand high in his classes and be popular with the boys and the
professors alike. He was president of his class and captain of the
'varsity football team, and everybody was glad of it.
The amazing news had arrived, in a letter from Bob, himself, to one of
the boys stating that he was that very week at Vancouver, taking ship
for China, where he had accepted a position as school-teacher on the
banks of the Yangtse; there he would preside over a room full of
Chinese boys about seven hours every day, while they monotonously
swayed backward and forward to the droning of their "study voices" in
the characteristic Chinese fashion.
Bob's friend showed the letter. He had no more sympathy for Bob's
reasons than the bunch had; it was "simply a horrible mess--an
outrageous slaughter of talent." That was what they decided. Bob's
letter had said:
"I don't suppose you will understand it now; I hope you may, later;
but out there are living (dying, I had better say) about four hundred
and twenty-five millions of people, practically without a knowledge of
Christ. I know Jesus Christ, not only as my Saviour, but as the very
finest and best friend a fellow ever had. I know what the knowledge of
Him can mean to _one human life_. I know that He wants those people to
meet Him and to know Him as I do. It has suddenly dawned upon me that
I can go over there and help introduce those strangers to my Lord, and
by doing so not only please Him but save them from eternal death.
"I couldn't be happy at anything else, Gus. Maybe you will smile--if
it doesn't make you mad--but just wait, old fellow; give me time.
Unless I am the worst fooled mortal that ever lived, I have got hold
of the really big job--one that takes all that is in a man. Oh, it's
easy to make money, and it's easy to do some stunt that wins applause;
but after it all, when 'the tumult and the shouting dies,' what have
you got?
"And what have I got? do you ask? Well, first, I've got about the best
inside feelings you ever could imagine. I've got a happy heart. I've
got the courage of my convictions. But, best of all, I've got my
Master's smile; and one day, if my faith does not fail, and I don't
believe it will, I'll get His 'well done'--and that will be worth it
all.
"Gus, I wish you were going with me, old fellow. Smile, but think it
over. You will graduate next year. Say, I'm going to expect you. But
in the meantime, remember: Nothing you've got is too fine or too rare
to lay down in service to Jesus Christ!"
Fellows, that was fifteen years ago. Want to take a look at Bob now?
It is a thrilling picture I see. A group of fine buildings--a great
Christian college in China, built for the most part by the Chinese
themselves. Bob is the president of it. He wouldn't swap positions
with the President of the United States, nor would he care to be a
captain of finance or a Supreme Court Judge. Bob has for fifteen years
been "living the life," and it's going finer each year.
He has had the supreme joy of seeing Christian Chinese business men,
statesmen, and great leaders go out from his college to take their
places of influence and leadership in the affairs of an Empire--in
some respects, particularly in population and undeveloped resources,
the greatest upon earth. Bob himself has been called time and again
into the highest councils of the nation. He is engaged in introducing
men--and through them a great multitude--to his Master, the Lord Jesus
Christ.
Yes, fellows, boys have alabaster boxes, too--and there's only one
place to break them--at the feet of Jesus.
_Read Mark 14:3-9._
XX
TELLING IT
Say, fellows, do you know it is impossible for anybody to tell with
words the whole story of the cross. The only way you can tell the
story in its real power is to _live it_.
I have heard there was a high-caste Chinese boy, the son of a wealthy
mandarin, governor of one of the Chinese provinces. This father was
very ambitious for his boy, hoping that one day he would succeed him
as chief executive. Therefore to secure for him the most modern and
progressive education, he sent the boy a hundred miles away to a
school on the Great Canal, taught by American missionaries. "To get
the Western learning," he told the boy, but not the foreign devils'
religion.
The teacher in Yuan Ki's room was a six-footer, a college graduate,
and an athlete. Yuan Ki was much impressed. He secretly admired him,
but was ungraciously curt to him. This was Yuan Ki's way of making the
teacher "keep his distance." But the teacher seemed not to notice it.
He was always kind to Yuan Ki, even as he was to the others.
One morning at chapel teacher talked about his God. Yuan Ki sneered at
what he told. Actually, teacher had said that his God had come down to
earth and had given up His life on a cross, as a sin-offering for all
people, even His own enemies. Yuan Ki wrote his father about this
"ridiculous story."
One day Yuan Ki was taken sick with a high fever and placed in the
school hospital. That night as he turned his feverish head from side
to side on the pillow, he felt a cool hand laid on his brow. It was
the teacher. Yuan Ki turned his face away, affecting not to see him.
The second night, he kept the boy's feverish brow cooled with iced
cloths until the fever subsided. Yuan Ki was distressed at the
situation, but all the more determined to ignore the teacher's
kindness.
At noon recess one day the boys were playing on the sloping grounds
between the school building and the river. It was strictly against the
rules for the boys to go past a certain low wall, toward the water.
But Yuan Ki and Wang To, seeing the teacher sitting near one of the
windows and knowing how it would disturb him, ran over the wall and
jumped on to the deck of a house-boat moored near by. Yuan Ki saw the
teacher look up in alarm and start as if to jump from the window,
which was ten feet from the ground. Yuan Ki ran to the outer end of
the house-boat, intending to jump to the deck of another house-boat
alongside, but in doing so, slipped and fell into the swift current.
The boy could not swim, and after a brief struggle he sank and knew no
more.
It was two days later that Yuan Ki came to consciousness. He was
puzzled quite a little until he figured out that he was in the
hospital bed again, and it was in the early dawn of the morning. There
seemed to be nobody else in the room. Yuan Ki could see through the
open door, across the hallway, into the large reception room opposite.
There was a long, strange-shaped, box-like thing, with some candles
burning near by. Curiosity getting the better of him, Yuan Ki got up
and crept across the hall. Coming close to the casket, he looked
through the glass cover--and there lay the teacher.
Just then a hand was laid on Yuan Ki's shoulder, and the nurse hustled
him back to bed, scolding him for his imprudence. "But," said Yuan Ki,
"the teacher--how did he die?"
"Lie still," said the nurse, "and I will tell you. When you fell into
the water, teacher jumped from that high window to the ground. It
seemed to sprain his ankle, or something, for he limped badly as he
made his way to the water. He reached you just as you went down the
last time, and bore you up. A man ran out on the deck with a boat-hook
and reached for you both. He caught your sleeve and hauled you in, but
the current carried teacher out of reach, and then we saw him sink. He
was an expert swimmer, but the sprain must have caused him to lose
consciousness."
Yuan Ki's next letter to his father read in part like this: "My
father, my heart is broken, for I shall not see your face again. I
know that what I shall tell you means that your hopes for me will be
crushed and that you will disinherit me; but, oh, my father, I have
learned now what is the love of Christ. Teacher had tried to tell us
about his Christ, who said: 'Greater love hath no man than this, that
a man lay down his life for his friends.'
"And now, my father, there is but one thing for me to do, and that
is, myself, to take the place which this noble servant of his Master
has left vacant--his Master--now my Master, too, for He has accepted
me and I have accepted Him. I have resolved to train to go to my
countrymen and tell them of this wonderful God, the like of whom there
is none other."
Jesus gave _all_ of Himself for us. We cannot give less than _all_ of
ourselves for Him.
_Read Mark 15:16-47._
XXI
READY!
Say, fellows, once in my life--and only once--I had a chance to shoot
a deer. It was in the Tennessee mountains. A party of us boys
travelled over a rough mountain road all of two days before reaching
the hunting grounds. About daylight of the third day each one of us
was given a "stand," that is, stationed at a point where the game
would likely pass when started by the hounds. The seasoned old guide
cautioned us to keep still and watch. "One thing sartin," said he,
"deer is in thar, an' when they comes out they comes this a-way."
I had never been deer hunting before. I have never been since. It was
my one opportunity, and as the party left me, to distribute themselves
at other points of vantage along the "run," I took up my stand under
considerable excitement. In an hour I heard the dogs far in the
distance. They were evidently running. That meant the game was
running, too,--how many and in what direction I could only guess.
Every nerve and muscle was tense with expectation. The music of the
hounds grew fainter. "Evidently circling again," I mused. I was
getting to be quite a huntsman, and chuckled at how David Crocketty my
observations were.
Another hour I waited. A squirrel came out on a limb, and with its
antics and barking helped me pass the time. A while I watched it, now
and then dropping my eyes to a level for the expected deer. Suddenly,
as I dropped my eyes, the most thrilling sight confronted them. They
nearly popped out--my eyes. There, within fifty feet of me, stood a
magnificent buck.
I shall never forget the picture. His beautiful, keen limbs slightly
quivering, his sleek sides glistening in the slanting rays of the sun
as they throbbed in and out with his rapid panting. His head held
high, the antlers looked like a picture.
All this had happened in less than five seconds. I only had to veer my
gun two inches. My hand was on the trigger, and with a perfect "bead"
on his left shoulder--right where the old guide had said the night
before was the spot to aim for.
Snap! left barrel.
Snap! right barrel.
Off like the wind, Mr. Buck!
Fellows, I have never been sicker than I was at that moment, but once.
My sickest was in the next moment, when I unbreached my gun and found
_there was no shell in either barrel_!
Foolish?
You can call it any name you please and I won't defend it. Think of me
at the camp-fire that night, fellows.
Foolish? Yes, I suppose that is the right word. It is a much stronger
word, though, than we realize. Jesus used it in this parable of the
ten virgins who went out to meet the bridegroom. But He used it to
describe a real tragedy, the greatest tragedy of life; the tragedy of
being unprepared at His coming.
And when is He coming, fellows? Nobody knows. He has not even told the
angels that secret. We don't have to know it. We only have to be
ready.
And how to be ready? Simple as A B C, fellows. Just be busy, doing
God's will--or making an honest effort to do it, and asking Him to
help. Anybody can be ready to meet Him when He comes, if he wants to
and will try. Just be doing your work and playing your play, as He
would have you do it.
But, fellows, it is a big risk to "put off" getting ready. Do it now
while you are young, with all life before you, by saying: "Lord Jesus,
here is my life. Use it in just whatever way you choose. Plan it for
me and help me carry out the plan." That is the way to bag the Big
Game. Some of life's greatest opportunities come but once, and then by
surprise. The happiest and most successful life is the God-planned
life, and a God-planned life never misses the Big Opportunity, because
it is ready--always ready. Ready for life, however long or short it
may be; ready for death whenever that must be; ready for the Coming of
the Lord Himself, which may be any moment, in the twinkling of an eye.
Are you ready, fellows?
_Read Matthew 25:1-13._
XXII
REMEMBERING
Say, fellows, all through the United States some years ago there
sounded a slogan. It was a slogan of hate,--a slogan of revenge. It
was the rallying cry of the Navy, it was shouted by the Army.
Newspapers carried it daily on the front page, alongside their titles;
business houses had it printed on their stationery; it was engraved
upon souvenirs; it hung as a motto upon the walls at many public
gatherings, and it became a household word throughout the nation:
"Remember the Maine!"
Remember--remember--never forget. And the purpose in remembering was
Retaliation. One night while the United States battleship _Maine_ lay
peacefully at anchor in the harbour of Havana, an explosion tore a
great hole in her hull and she quickly sank, carrying down many
officers and men to sudden death.
There was hardly any doubt that Spanish officers had from the shore
treacherously exploded a mine underneath the battleship, and later
investigations seemed to confirm this theory. Immediately the United
States, an outraged nation, arose to drive the Spanish army from Cuba
and her navy from American waters, and the spirit of revenge was kept
alive by the slogan, "Remember the Maine!"
Now, fellows, those are just the cold facts to show how powerfully
can be used the word, Remember--how powerfully to kill and to destroy;
how powerfully to nourish the harsh and cruel side of our natures. Not
that it was wrong for America to lift the Spanish yoke from helpless
Cuba, we are not dealing with that question. That with which we have
to do to-day is the energy and force developed by _remembering_. Like
dynamite, it can be force for good or for evil. Remembering the taunts
and cruelties of our enemies usually carries us into a cruel and
destructive program.
I am so glad this lesson presents to us the good side of that really
great word Remember, for to-day it is Remember Jesus. When you link
that Name with a word it transforms it; link that Name with a life and
it transforms it. Jesus Himself gave us the slogan. He was so intent
upon our keeping it in mind that He instituted a feast by which we
might commemorate it.
Even the food of that supper had a significance: Bread, to represent
His own body nailed upon the cross for us, and wine to represent His
blood which flowed for us. I think, fellows, if you should give your
life to save another, you would not like that one to forget all about
it, would you?
But Jesus had more than that in mind. He knew that "remembering" would
mean much to you who are trying to live a straight-out Christian life.
Celebrating at stated times by this Remembrance Supper would help you
to remember Him also _between times_. It is in these between times we
so much need the power which comes by Remembering Jesus.
Am I downhearted because I have been mistreated? Remember Jesus. He
was most mistreated of all men. Am I feeling that I'd like to "get
even" with somebody and redress a wrong? Remember Jesus. He did not
strike back, but laid down His life for His enemies. Am I feeling that
I cannot hold out in this Christian program? Remember Jesus. He is
right by my side and will help me hold out. Do people seem to
misunderstand me? Remember Jesus. He understands, and that is
sufficient. Does it look as if I am about to make a failure? Remember
Jesus, through whom we are more than conquerors.
I tell you, fellows, it is the biggest and finest Remember of all,
because it makes us strong, it makes us happy, it enables us to
overcome, it makes us invincible!
Remember Jesus.
_Read 1 Corinthians 11:23-34._
XXIII
GETTING EVEN
Say, fellows! I saw a big touring car sideswipe a Ford runabout and
knock it several feet to one side on the country road. Of course each
of the drivers thought the other was to blame, and a warm argument
followed.
The big car was unhurt, and proceeded on its way, but the flivver had
its running board and fender badly battered. While the young fellow of
the runabout examined to see what further damage his car might have
sustained, the prosperous-looking gentleman was speeding up the
highway, chuckling over his own car's escape from injury.
I asked the man of the Ford if his engine had suffered. No, he thought
it was all right; he would crank up and see. Good! She started off
with a clutter, and he asked me if I wanted to ride. I had not far to
go, but gladly accepted, for I was rather struck with this young
fellow's grip on himself. It took self-control to avoid making the air
blue with abuse. The way that big fellow had hurried on, leaving the
runabout in trouble, was certainly not on the square, to say the
least.
A turn in the road brought a fresh surprise. There was the touring
car, a hundred yards ahead, standing in the middle of the road, hood
up, and the big man peering into the engine. There was room to pass,
and I wondered what the man at the wheel in the runabout would do.
Would the little car rattle past with its damaged fender? It would be
only human nature to sing out some sort of a taunt: "Thought you were
in a hurry!" or "Don't block the road!"--and yet this young fellow did
not seem to be that kind. His self-control during the incident back
there in the road made me expect something different, and I was not
disappointed. The runabout did pass, but stopped ten yards ahead, and
my companion got out.
"Engine trouble? Need any help?"
The big fellow's face was a puzzle, as he looked up with a worried
grin and mopped his brow with a grease-smeared hand. Yes, there was
engine trouble, and it was serious.
To make a long story short, when last I saw them as they turned the
curve of the road ahead, the big car's front axle was connected by a
chain to the rear of the runabout as it chugged away in low gear
dragging the big one to the nearest garage.
Say, fellows! it takes a dead game sport to do a trick like that. Any
cheap skate can whiz past and give his enemy in trouble the
hard-boiled eye, but it takes a fine soul to be generous when the
natural impulse calls for spite work.
In the small hours of that fine morning, as Saul slept and as his
guards were heavy with sleep about him, David put one over on his
pursuer--an act of kindness which overwhelmed him with shame. David
had not only to fight a natural impulse to get even, but he had with
him an adviser who used the most persuasive arguments to induce him
to take Saul's life. Indeed, Abishai proposed to do the deed himself,
as though that would leave David clear of guilt in the matter. But no,
David was a man of principle, and he knew three very vital things:
1. "Vengeance is mine, I will repay," said the Lord.
2. A magnanimous spirit wins, and no sad regrets cloud the victory.
3. He that ruleth his own spirit is better than he that taketh a city.
_Read twenty-sixth chapter of 1 Samuel and Romans 12:20-21._
XXIV
GREATNESS
Say, fellows, if I should make up an unusually good story about you,
some noble thing you did, or some kind and generous act, to whom
should I tell it, to be sure it would be believed? Yes, I see you know
of whom I am thinking--your mother. I might tell your brother and
sister, and they would say: "Phew! are you sure it was Dick?" I might
tell your employer, and his eyes would roam around over the objects on
his desk; or your teacher, and he would look at the sky and say:
"Think it will rain?" I might tell your father, and he would be
grateful--but surprised! But let me tell your mother! There I would
find one who is ready to believe anything good I would say about you.
I tell you, fellows, a mother is a wonderful gift to a boy, for her
prayers alone. Long before you learned to say, "Now I lay me down to
sleep," she was praying that you would be a great and good man some
day. Those prayers of mothers have kept many a boy from going wrong.
One night in a great city where I had gone to find work I had fallen
in with some young fellows who "knew the ropes," and being far from
home and lonesome I was glad to accept their companionship. They
invited me to join them in an "evening lark" to which no loyal
Christian would lend himself, and though I was a nominal Christian I
was tempted sorely. I regarded myself as "my own man," having just
turned twenty-one.
But just as I wavered between right and wrong, my mother's face
flashed before me. It was only for an instant, but it was enough. I
heard her voice, heard it in prayer. That night a thousand miles away
she was praying for me, and saved me from what might have been a fatal
step. I firmly believe, fellows, but for my mother's prayers that
night and many nights, before and since, I should not now be enjoying
the privilege of talking about the great things of life and the
Kingdom to you.
Treasure that dear mother, if you have one, fellows; she is God's
peculiar gift.
Well, James and John had such a mother, and she did the most natural
and motherly kind of a thing. She wanted _her boys_ to go away up
high; they must even stand in the highest places, on the right and
left hand of the King in His glory. Like all mothers, she was
ambitious for her boys.
Then Jesus in His wonderful way explained that the road to true
greatness was not that which the world was following, in which those
in power and authority were overbearing masters to their inferiors;
but it is a path of service to mankind, a path already blazed by
Himself. Last night in the local evening paper I saw these headlines:
CHATTANOOGA DOCTOR ATTAINS EMINENCE. The article stated that a very
remarkable invention for the removal of foreign particles from the
lungs or bronchial tubes, such as might be accidentally swallowed, had
been successfully demonstrated before a national medical society, and
had been written up in the _American Medical Journal_; it was said
that the discovery had brought great honour to the doctor in the world
of medicine.
That was the recognition, but what had preceded? Days and nights at
bedsides of suffering; days and nights in the laboratory; days and
nights of study to relieve pain; hours of weariness unknown to the
world, but borne on by the thought of doing a service to humanity. And
do you suppose the final publicity is what rewards this doctor?
Hardly. A reporter on his local city paper sought an interview, after
the far-away medical journal had published the first news, but the
doctor, in his service overalls in the midst of treating his patients,
declined the interview, saying it would involve a technical
description which the general public would hardly be interested in.
Then it was "Good-morning," and the doctor returned to his work.
True greatness does not care to make one dash to fame, then loaf in
its glory.