January 1929
T h e
K i n g ' s
B u s i n e s s
3
The Vox Humana of Time 5N old writer tells how he once went into an ancient German church as twilight time was falling over the buildings* A single candle struggled with the gloom that possessed the aisles, the columns and arches, and made all things weird and spectral. A few people were scattered about in the great pews, listening to the organ, and he joined them. The great organ, touched by a master hand, began its wonderful work of sound, calling up all the faculties from their chambers—the watchmen of the soul from their
unto you; not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Le t' not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” , One voice, the voice of the God-man, is able to sway all storms whether without or within. One voice is able to pierce through the space between heaven and earth, into the lowest regions where tempests have their home, into the very heart of every trusting soul. “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will rest you. Take my yoke upon you and learn o f me; for I am meek and lowly of heart', and ye shall find rest unto your souls.” Dear reader, has your spiritual ear tried to catch that voice while the turbulent waters of affliction swirl about you and the winds of dissension and persecution and
citadels and cells. How it groaned through t h e o l d building! How these won derful sounds t h r o b b e d against the pillars and shook them, and rumbled along be neath the feet of those in the pews and traveled thrillingly and palpitatingly overhead among the arches! It seemed that the organ could sigh and shout and storm and rage and madden and soothe. Then suddenly, a f t e r pouring out these preludes of its power, it began to utter some marvelous delirium of music. It imposed on the i m a g i n a t i o n the whole scenery of a wild tempest—a storm of nature a m o n g heaths and mountains. The thunder rolled near and far among the crags. The rain hissed in the winds. The
temptation beat upon you ? Oh, come into His presence! Be still and know that He is God. Fill your mind with His precious Word. You will soon discern the Vox Hu mana whispering: “Peace be unto you.” “Lo, I am with you all the days; even unto the consummation o f t h e age.” It is the voice of the risen, interceding a n d c o m i n g Christ. “Ever in the raging storm Thou shalt see His cheering form, Hear His pledge of coming a id : ‘It is I, be not afraid.’ ”
Is God S till Raising up Prophets? K NOW ING this first, that no prophecy of the Scripture is of any private interpreta tion. For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man, but holy men o f God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost” (2 Pet. 1:20-21). In our last issue, we replied to the conten tion of Dr. W. B. Millard, editor of “The Supplementary Bible,” that divine inspiration is continuous and that the authors whose writings appear in this new Bible were inspired in the same sense as the Scripture writers. Dr. Millard goes farther. In his letter to us he declares that these men were prophets in the same manner even as the Biblical prophets. Says Dr. Millard : “There was a period in the history of this country when all the statesmen, from Henry Clay to Stephen A. Douglas, declared that the only solution of the slavery question, was compromise. But Abraham Lincoln lifted up his voice and said: ‘This country cannot exist half slave and half free.’ “A half century ago, in the city of Milwaukee, when saloons were found on every corner, and often several more within the block, when the city boasted of the beer
flash of the lightning seemed to go by you. The storm possessed—it overwhelmed the listeners. The blasts of the tempest and the bolts of the thunder were like giant spirits striving together in night and solitude, while fear and terror and awe and horror held revelry and carnival. And then—there seemed to be a human voice. Amidst the hurricane on the organ, it rose so clear, so calm, so ineffably restful and light, so high over the surges and the wailing of the rain, the thunder and the wind. .It was the vox humana stop, the human voice stop, that marvel of all the artifices of music. The storm continued, but the voice sang on and rose on the wings of light and of sound, over all the hurricane that hurried from the pipes and keys. What discerning listener could fail to think of the Human Voice Stop of the ages? “The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved : He uttered His voice; the earth melted.’’ Against the crash of kingdoms, thrones, peoples, opinions, panics, horrors, fears and travails, one Voice—and only one— has been heard, saying to those whose ears are tuned to catch its music: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give -----
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