June, 1937
THE K I NG ' S BUS I NE S S
227
THIS BEFOGGED AND BEFUDDLED WORLD [ Continued from page 209]
refuge, and protecting the gates to those cities with the most formidable fortresses ever erected by men. France wanders in perpetual fog, ever wondering what of the morrow. Across the Channel is the hold-out of the old British lion. His tail has been twisted during the past few months until one is led to believe that kind nature must have pro vided it with a swivel. But the twisting, we surmise, has about gone to its limit. The old lion is beginning to snarl, expos ing to the world a seven-billion-dollar set of new steel teeth. Well he may, for never before have such terrifying specters of the dusk crept about his lair. Verily, all Europe is rollicking about among munition dumps on a blind man’s holiday. Her “ Strong Men” are reveling in the lawlessness of their own imperial wills. A coterie of fools gone mad, using buzz- saws to cut up logs of dynamite in store houses of nitroglycerin —that is Europe! Walter Lippmann exclaims: “ It would be foolish to attempt to guess the outcome.” Certainly! It is always foolish to guess when you can positively know. Lippmann is also certainly right when he says further: “ However it is regarded, the de cision which Europeans have to take now is weighted with responsibilities that are awful to contemplate.” Yes, Mr. Lippmann, a Bible-rejecting generation has been scoff- ng at the impossibility of a fulfillment of some prophetical scenes that are “ awful to contemplate.” They are written in the Book of Revelation, chapters 6 to 19. There is much less scoffing just now. Is the dread hour at hand? A merica B efogged and B efuddled The sun now completes its circuit of our benighted earth by crossing the Atlantic. Foggy-eyed political and social mariners are waving aloft their fists trying to find each other’s noses across the tables on the banks of the Potomac. “ Go right!” exhorts Senator J. “ Go left!” entreats Senator A. “Raise prices I” beseeches Brain Truster E. “Lower prices 1” screeches Brain Truster Z. “Kill the pigs!” bawls Professor F. “Breed the sows!” howls Professor T . “Economize!” snorts Economist B. “ Spend!” retorts Economist V. “ Inflate!” enjoins Banker I. “ Deflate 1” rejoins Banker M. “ Fix wages 1” explains Judge H. “Pre serve freedom I” exclaims Judge S. “ Obey your constituents!” roars Repre sentative Q. “ Obey your Constitution!” snarls Representative U. “ Go Communist!” squeaks Secretary P. “ Go Fascistl” shrieks Secretary D. “ Sit!” orders Labor Leader L. “ G it!” thunders Labor Leader G. And this is America! America’s case is like that of the old negro parson who com plained that he was finding it impossible to " co-ordinate the inco-ordinatable and un screw the unscrutable!" Verily, the prob lems of humanity are getting far beyond the wisdom of a generation that has polite ly bowed the living God and His Christ out of its council chambers.
JOHNSTON EVANGELISTIC MEETINGS “ Consecutive Gospel preaching means souls saved”—James M. Gray
“ For several weeks I have been looking for a torch with which to explore the autumnal fog in which political Europe is immersed. I have not found it. If any one else pos sesses it, he keeps it locked and guarded for his own personal use, but no stray beams from it were to be detected escaping through chinks and keyholes in any of the fastnesses which I could penetrate. . . . A fog so impenetrable I have never en countered before. I suspect that it impedes the statesmen whom I di vine, as dim shapes groping their way within it, Very much as it af fects me. They make from time to time uneasy motions: you hear a foot fall, but in a minute or two, all is silent again. . . . The fog, I suspect, has paralyzed them all. Certainly ' there is no general movement, no dis cernible trend in these gropings. One grows used to it. Perhaps this is the twilight, the dim ending of our day. . . . M y nose detects the whiff of gunpowder from time to time!” If that was Europe a few years back, what would a true description of Europe be at the present hour? Nations stagger ing about in deepest fog—starless midnight —“ darkness” that may “be felt”—fog in which the smell of gunpowder has become sickening—jittery nations with armor a- jingle through terror! Everywhere, seri ous, candid, far-sighted men are whiffing the air and admitting the imminence of Armageddon. No spot on the fog-bound continent is covered with denser night than that which covers the cave of the old Russian Bear. All the world knows that the Neronic old grizzly is out of his den and ready to go— but wheref Only those who walk within the light of God can know: “ Seven months shall the house of Israel be burying . . . it in the valley of Hamon-gog” (Ezek. 39:12-15). A bone pile in Palestine! There endeth the strut of the old Northern Bear! At the heart of the quivering old con tinent, the chief of modern Jew-baiters is leading his fawning puppets ever deeper and deeper into abysmal night. The ghosts of Pharaoh and Haman are beckoning from the depths of the pitchy pit for their great collaborator to come. He will go! Then, Germany, whither away? No one knows. But the prophets are all prophets of gloom 1 South of the helmeted dupes of Nazidom, the old Roman beast that once stuffed itself to the full of the flesh and blood of saints, revives from its death-wound; and God has told in prophetic vision that “ all the world wondered after the beast” (Rev. 13:3). A new Caesar takes command, swaggering, bullying, boasting, challenging the whole world to meet him in combat. No voice within the gloom is creative of greater apprehension. The world despairs! West of the lair of this Roman monster is France, aquiver with fear, with fren zied haste building underground cities of
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