1 [ HIS ; L
still waiting for r
A birth
by Dr. Don W. Hillis
“ n p H E R E a r e j u s t 10-or 15-or whatever — more shop- -1- ping days until Christmas!” Why is the anni versary of the Saviour’s birth measured by shopping days? While Americans merrily turn the birthday of the Sav iour into a buying and selling spree, accompanied by Christmas parties which border on heathenism, the hea then are left to languish without the “good tidings of great joy” which the angel of the Lord %aid should be “to all people.” Nyingu which means “little lion” was bom and raised in the South Sudan. He is tall, agile, and dark as ebony. Last year Nyingu took sick with typhoid fever. But his tribal witch doctor knew what to do. He cut long gashes down Nyingu’s arms gnd legs and across his chest. Then he let the blood of a chicken run down over his head and shoulders. Nyingu died and the only god he ever knew was the evil spirit to whom the witch doctor made his weird incantations. The “good tidings of great joy” have never reached Nyingu-and his people. To them Jesus Christ is an unborn Saviour. Ramchandra lives in Damanpur, 300 miles northeast of Bombay, India. He speaks a Sanskrit-based language called Marathi. There are 33,000 people in his town but not a single Christian. As a high-caste Hindu, he is a vegetarian and his knowledge of religion is limited to a pantheon of sightless, speechless idols. Ganesh, the elephant-headed god of wisdom, is the patron of Ram- chandra’s household. Offerings of rice, coins, or flowers are daily placed before Ganesh. Incense is burned and prayers said. Ramchandra is only one of millions in India who will live and die in the hopelessness of a pantheistic philosophy which paradoxically has led men to a poly theistic practice. To them Jesus Christ is an unborn Saviour. The Miracle of Christmas (continued) real and unspeakably precious is He to those who lean the whole weight of their hearts and lives upon Him! As we enter the year 1964, we need not see the way ahead, nor always understand His ways; we know that ‘He Who loved us and washed us from our sins in His Own Blood’ can be trusted to do all things well. We rest in His love and joy in His presence. The peace of God which passes all understanding garrisons our hearts with constant strength and victory as we look up into His face and praise Him—just for Himself alone. ‘Silent night!” Whatever the night, whatever the cold deadliness of its frustration, pain, and sorrow, its bitter storms caririot pierce His enfolding love and the never-failing provisions of His grace. We do not have to see the glory, nor hear an angel’s song. Sufficient to our heart’s need is the still, small voice of His Spirit assuring us of His presence—“/ will never leave thee nor forsake thee . . . Lo, I am with you alway!”
Jacques Panhard is a slender, small-boned, sharp- featured college youth. He lives in a suburb, of Paris, France. He was baptized as a baby into the Catholic faith but never since has been in a church. Jacques has never seen a Bible, nor has he ever had any personal communication with an evangelical. If he has a god it is materialism. An Epicurean philosophy of “eat, drink, and be merry” seems to motivate his life. Jacques’ knowledge of religion is limited to the parade of images which he has seen every Good Friday for as long as he can remember. The image of a Babe in the arms of Mary, or of the crucified Christ, has left Jacques and most of his generation cold. Although not every one in Jacques country is as ignorant of the “good tidings of great joy” as he is, yet his condition is typical of millions throughout Europe to whom the significance of the Saviour’s birth is an un experienced reality. For all practical purposes Jesus Christ is to them an unborn Saviour. Arid why are there hundreds of millions in our world to whom Jesus Christ is an unborn Saviour? Why are these “good tidings of great joy” which are meant for all people not reaching the uttermost parts of the world? Is it possible that gifts for self are keeping the Gospel from the godless? Does our purchasing of glitter ing tinsel limit our proclamation of the good tidings? Do our expenditures on the rusting toys of time limit our investments in the treasures of eternity? Perhaps this Christmas would be a good time to start answering these questions in a real practical way. Much depends upon you as to whether the Babe of Bethlehem remains an unborn Saviour to millions around the world. Your very best Christmas gift to-any man is the good tidings of God’s indescribable Gift for all men. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? . . . Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” O you of the trouble^, sorrowing heart, look up! Celestial choirs still broadcast joyous carols into the mid night air, and the splendor of His presence shines ever roundabout. Within the deep recesses of our heart, en circled by His unfailing love and grace, rings the glad, sweet assurance— “. . . All things are yours . . . whether the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours; and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s!” All IS calm, all IS bright—NOW and forever!
IS
DECEMBER, 1963
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