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T H E K I N G ’ S B ILSuM 'ESS ---------------------------------- ---------------
April 1926
\N Nineteenth Anniversary of the Bible Institute of Los Armeies
Dedicated unto Him that loved ua, and washed us from our sins ill His own Wood. Rev. 2:3. A. D. 1913
IN Sunday, February 14, the Nineteenth Annivers ary of the organization of the Bible Institute of Los Angeles was held in the Institute auditorium, with the President, Mr. J. M. Irvine, presiding. The Men’s Olee Club and the Women's Qlee Club of the Institute occupied the choir loft and rendered several selec tions. The platform was filled with the members of the Board of Directors, the Faculty, representatives of the Evangelistic Department, and other leaders in the work. By a gracious Providence, three noted men were in Los Angeles and graced the occasion by their presence, each giving a word of kindly greeting,— Mr. Sidney T. Smith, of Winnipeg, representing the Moody Bible Institute; Dr. Jonathan Goforth, of China, representing the Foreign Field; and Mr. W. H. Ridgway, editor of “ The Busy Men’s Corner” in the Sunday School Times. Mr. T. C. Horton, Editor-in- Chief of The King’s Business, who was the instrument under God in founding the Bible Institute of Los Angeles, made an earnest plea for personal devotion to Christ as the first essential of successful service. The address of the day was brought by Dr. W. W. Bus tard, of Cleveland, Ohio, now occupying the pulpit of the Temple Baptist Church in Los Angeles.^ Dr. Bustard’s theme was “ The Bible, the Word of God.” It was a great pleasure to listen to his soul-stirring, loyal message, which was highly appreciated by the large audience, and which we are glad to be able to give to our readers herewith.
Dr. W . W . Bustard Acting Pastor Tsmpls Baptist Church Los Angslss, California
THE BIBLE: THE WORD OF GOD
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Dr. W. W. Bastard wants to sing Its highest note to the Book that has had the greatest influ ence on the world’s history, and the greatest influence on my own life. Because I love the Book, I sing as the robin red-breast sings in the spring, a song of praise to the Wonderful Book of the Wonderful Christ,—G o d ’ i Bible! I had a beautiful mother. They used to call her a queen when she walked the streets of my native town, for God took the red of a hundred June roses agd put it in hex cheeks. He took the blue of the sky and the sparkle of the stars and put them in her eyes. One day He snatched the smile from an angel's face and put it on her lips, and even when she passed away, death did not dare to take the smile away that God had put there. I would not think of giving you a crit
ical estimate of my mother or an exegesis of motherhood. No one un derstands mothers. God m a d e mothers,—mothers!— and that is all we know about it. We cannot explain the mystery of a mother’s love. We cannot f a t h o m the fondness of a mother’s heart. We praise them be cause they are mothers and we love them because they are oar mothers. Nor do I know all about the Bible. It is inconvenient sometimes to know as much as some people, for you have to tell it to everybody because you know it. But I know this much about the Bible,— it is the Word of God, and it speaks to me in the language of my Heavenly Father and I love it. The Composition of The Bible I want you to think a moment of its composition. It was written by many
HAVE been asked to bring you this message from the 119th Psalm, the 97th verse; "Oh, how love I thy law.”
It is said that after Satan was cast out of heaven and sent to the dismal depths below, someone asked him this question, “ What is the thing that you miss most out of your former heavenly life?" and Satan immediately replied, “ The joyful notes of the trumpet in the morning.” I want to raise my voice today like a trumpet in Joyful praise to the Bible as the Word of God. This is not a critical exegesis of the Book: this is not a theological discussion of its value; this is not a doctrinal discus sion as to its truths: this is a love note. I want to sing my song in praise to the greatest Book in the world to day. My heart wants to sing,— it
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