be guilty o f innocent blood. Thine hands shall no longer be innocent. Pilate did not kill Christ. He wanted the worst way to have Him released from the charges o f guilt. He was in sympathy with Christ, but he simply sat back and allowed Christ to be taken by a lynch mob and killed. Pilate thought he was innocent. He took a basin of water, washed his sin-stained hands and said to our Lord’s murderers, “ I am innocent of the blood o f this just man; see ye to it.” But God said, “Guilty,” and a few years later Pilate died as a loathsome suicide in Vienna — dying in exile on the very charges he tried to avoid by letting Christ slip into the hands of his murderers. Among certain published traditional letters concerning hell is one about Pilate. He is stooping down beside a river of fire in the abyss o f hell, just as a miner panning for gold would do ; but he isn't panning for gold — he is rubbing his hands and trying to remove the scarlet. The blood of Christ has penetrated the epidermis of the skin, and he can’t wash the foul,,guilty stains from his hands. Nor will he; for all the fire or water or soap he can use, can never wash away those stains. He has a pair of guilty hands though he did not actually slay the Lord. If we could see what God sees — a procession of men and women long enough to girdle the globe more than thirty times, passing every moment to something worse than death, and every step of their pathway marked by sin and sorrow, until at last they drop one by one into a hopeless and Christless grave — our attitude would be different. We would not be so criminally neglectful in giving the Gospel of God’s pardon to the lost races of earth. We would not ignore our Lord’s last command to go into all the world and preach the Gospel. Sixty-six heathen die every minute without Christ. Every fifteen minutes in yonder heavenly world the awful tidings are reported that one thou sand souls have been lost forever. Supposing that every morning the newspapers of the land should report that a city with the population of approxi mately 35,000 people had passed into eternity with out one ray of hope, and having never known the tender love o f God—the God who “ so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish but have everlasting life” ; the God who wrought out salvation in the fond expectation that we would be faithful in taking this pardon to the unevangelized peoples of the earth. When Christ died on the cross, it became as black as midnight at high noon, and for three hours Egyptian darkness covered the land, dark ness that could be felt. The restless, churning multi tude of people at the foot o f the cross had become strangely silent. The bitter invectives o f our Lord’s persecutors suddenly froze on the scornful lips. The chitter-chatter ceased. The cursing, the loud AUGUST, 1965
guffaws, the sneers, the jibing — all came to an abrupt end as soon as God draped the sun in sackcloth. People froze in their tracks. All was silent, a deathly silence. It was like the silence of outer darkness. And then came the only noise that could break the stillness — the drip-drip-dripping of the blood from the arteries of the Son of God, like the seconds on the clock, striking out the last moments of time, as the dying thief took his poise to make his last flight. The monotonous drip-drip-dripping of the blood in remarkable regularity reminds one of the steady march of the millions who drop over the brink of time into eternity with such monotonous regularity — 66 a minute; drop, drop, drop. “ His blood will I require at thine hand if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked o f his way . . . Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel, and lo, I am with you all the days.” My friend, have you ever stopped to consider that God has a claim on your life? He made you; He died to redeem you. He bought you with a ter rific price. Now He has the supreme claim upon your body and soul. He has issued you your march ing orders. You are 1-A in God’s army, God’s army o f noble missionaries. Whether He calls you to go, or calls you to support others who go, this must be your supreme task — the evangelization of the world. “ If ye love Me, keep My commandments.” Love counts no service too long, no sacrifice too great, no light too dark, no difficulty too hard. “Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.” Love makes any task easy. Love is positive — not passive. Love is active. Faith worketh by love. Faith without works is dead. Faith worketh. The absence of love is hate. Hate may be dormant; it may not necessarily be active; it may not kill, may not strike a man in the head, but it may let millions slip into eternity without Christ. If we allow them to die and go to hell, then we have committed murder. There is no other way. God will not judge actions, but motives. He will judge the heart. “God looketh on the heart.” All of our actions are first thoughts and motives and dispositions. Many thoughts and motives and dispositions are never translated into deeds. God will judge the thoughts and motives and disposi tions. “He that loveth not his brother is a murder er.” Love is active. It will go forward. It will sacrifice. What the heart is, the hands will do. Innocent hands are those that belong to a pure heart. “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart.” The hands stand for our works. “By their works ye shall know them.” It is one of two things. Either we have in nocent hands or we are guilty o f innocent blood. The heathen are innocent of the Gospel. Will we give it to them? Will you? 17
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