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TH E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
B NE of the deepest and most searching lessons in the art of suffering came to me from a seventeen-year-old Jewess. I can see Miriam npw, though It is a number of years since she sat be fore me in class—a slender girl with a'cascade of chestnut hair falling about her shoulders. Her eyes were deep set . with thoughtfulness, and serious with problems. Her acquiline nose was her only outstandingly Jew ish feature. Why she, an orthodox Jewess, ev^r came to that high school Bible class I cannot answer, except to say that the Saviour Himself brought her there. At first she was sullen and defiant as the winsomeness of her Messiah-Saviour was set before her. But He Himself spoke to her—He who, years before, had revealed His Godhead as He min istered among other needy ones of earth. Bit by bit, so slowly that' the change was almost imperceptible, her attitude became different. Her heart, too, was gripped by the words of the Son of God. The day came when the lesson was about the death of Christ. Actually, the blackness of Calvary seemed to settle down upon that roomful o f girls as the story of that death, unlike all other deaths, was recounted. One heart there was hearing the message for the first time. With rapt attention she listened to Isaiah 53. How clearly the pattern of prophecy fitted into the fulfillment of history! She saw. She understood. One knew it by her eyes— yet out of the class she went without saying a word. Two weeks passed, and I felt im pelled to speak. Realizing that “im pression without expression” is a dan gerous thing, I longed to hear from my young Jewish friend the words of p e r s o n a l testimony that would strengthen her own faith. Praying *Member of the /acuity and head of the Department of Christian Education at the Biole institute of Los Angeles.
much for the Lord’s guidance and con-, trol, I went to the class and waited. The first of the group, Miriam bounded into the room—the same girl who had come on so many earlier occa sions, and yet not the same. Almost immediately voices and footsteps an nounced that the crowd had arrived, and there was no time for the longed- for conversation. “Miriam,” I whispered to her quick ly, “I’d like to see you at the close of class; may I, please?” “Oh, yes,” was the ready reply, as a Smile lit up her face. “I want to see you, too! It is very important!” , When the other girls had gone, and Miriam and I were alone, before I could open my mouth to say anything to her, the girl’s eager words came tumbling out: “Oh, I’ve just got to tell you. I’ve done what you’ve said so often. I’ve accepted Christ, as my Saviour. I know He’s my Messiah, and I’ve asked Him to come into my heart, and I’m His.child!” My heart missed a beat, I kndW it did. And then it raced along at tfeble pace. Did she understand what she was saying? Had she comprehended? Was she sure? How would her family react? Had she told them? Could she?
One by one the questions were answered. Jubilantly she explained what had taken place. The week be fore, just as. she was leaving the Bible club, she had ‘stopped right beneath a lafhppost, and there she had “thought it all out.” With characteristic eager ness and childlikeness she added: “I knew that all you’ve taught us was true. So I just did what you said to do: I asked Him to»come into my life —and He did!” Yes, she had told her parents. Her explanation of this incident was very simplej “I knew the hardest ones to tell would be my mother and father,” she said, “so I told them the minute I got in the door.” And what had been their reaction? “Oh,” Miriam told me,' "they just stared at me and mumbled something about a new fad.” Weeks slipped into months. There seemed to be no opposition raised in this Jewish home. Miriam grew, spir itually, by leaps and bounds, as her heart laid hold on deepest truths. June came with a climax of gradua tion. In the fall, -Miriamexpected to be enrolled at a near-by college, and there, too, I ‘ held a struggling Bible class. I thought of what a valuable asset she would be in that group,
neither death, nor life . . . nor things present, nor things to come . . . shall be able to sep arate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus" Romans 8:38, 39.
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