April, 1941
T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
132
But when the sharp red sun cut through its sheath Of western clouds, I saw the brown arms’ girth Tighten and bear that radiant form to earth, And suddenly both fell upon the heath. ' - “And then the wonder came—for when I fled To where those great antagonists down fell, I could not find the body that I sought, And when and where it went I could not tell; One only form was left of those who fought, The long dark form of Death—and it was'dead.” According to the text, Christ not only has conquered death, -but He keeps the keys of death. The word “hell” here is properly- translated “hades,” or “the place of the dead.” Consequently, Christ claims to have the keys of the grave and of death. No matter what seals are put upon the grave, no matter how deep they are digged, at the word of Christ they will be broken up. No matter how absolute seems the embrace of death, at the word of Christ Lazarus will come forth, for even death must obey His commands. Why should we fear death when we remember yet another fact: Christ will not forget His own. There is a personal touch in this text that to me is precious: “And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not.” — It contains the sweet message that Jesus knows you, and the comforting assurance that He will never overlook you or leave you in the field of the dead. I noticed from the reports that came from the fields of battle in 1914 to 1918 that the general often telegraphed, “So many dead,” and, “ So many miss ing.” In some instances this meant only that those under the second re port, “missing,” had been overlooked. Those who die in Christ need have no fear of being missed on the resur rection mom. He will lay His right hand upon each and lift him up. And what a resurrection it will be! Blessed mom it will be for him who is wakened by the touch of the right hand of the Most High! [On March 2 of this year, Dr. Riley, the' author of this Easter message of victory, completed the forty-fourth year of his remarkably fruitful pastorate in the First Baptist Church of Minneapo lis, Minn. A t that time he resigned from the pastorate to give added time to serv-s ing the Northwestern Bible Institute, Minneapolis, of which he is the Presi dent. — E ditor .]
Virginia was furious. “You’re kid napping me!” she cried in anger. “I could have you arrested!” But she fought to no effect. Howard was quiet, but firm. “You can stay here, or we can go back to town,” he said. “But you are going to stay with me until we talk this thing out before our God.” Virginia saw that he meant business. She stopped her struggling. “I’ll go back to town,” she said. Howard took her to a place where they could talk alone. With his Bible before him, he opened his heart to her, the way God had led him, the need in her life, his need for her if they were going to be fully obedient to their Lord. Light broke on her rebellious soul. She thought back to her girlhood days, to the time she had joined the church. Yes, she had received the Saviour then, but she had never learned to walk with Him. Now she saw herself as her Lord saw her, and bowed to Him. Side by side, in the sacred quiet of His presence, two hearts were laid wholly and without reserve on the altar for His full will for them. Virginia did not go home for two days. When she did go, it was only to pack for the move to Los Angeles. Joy unspeakable ruled the two united lives as they walked together in the path of power and blessing, together in summer school, together in the new year at Biola—Howard’s second, Vir ginia’s first—together in;the home with little Charles, together in soul-winning and their bright vision of future serv ice. On “an absolutely hopeless mess of a case,” as Howard describes it, God breathed and brought glory to Himself as He called two chosen ones out from sin and sorrow to His training ground to fit them for labor in His needy har vest field. hell and of death” (Rev. 1:18)’, Truly, “When he [Christ] ascended up on high, he led captivity captive,” and His resurrection and ascension are not a mere promise, but the pledge of the resurrection and ascension of every one of His people. Cosmo Monkhouse could scarcely have had anything less than the resur rection of Jesus Christ in mind when he wrote that magnificent sonnet; “Prom morn to eve they struggled— Life and Death, At first it seemed to me that they in mirth Contended, and as foes of equal worth, So firm their feet, so undisturbed their breath, VICTORY THROUGH THE VICTOR [ Continued, from Page 127]
refused to get right with her husband. But Howard kept on praying. And other students prayed. Then a letter came. It was in June of 1940. Virginia was coming to Los Angeles with her church choir. She wanted to see Biola. Her visit would be at the time of the school’s “missions hour.” Howard and his student friends fell on their faces before God, asking Him to send some fiery missionary with a burning mes sage that would wake her up. The day she arrived in the city, How ard went to his night’s work in tur moil of spirit. He could not think. His tom heart cried to his God for help, but he could not really pray. Yet, as he worked with his hands and wept with his heart, the answer came. Words of Scripture were brought to mind, words that told him God had placed the man at the head of the house. In God’s sight, he and Virginia were still man and wife — in spite of divorce courts. He was called to the gospel ministry. How could he, with this sore in his life, experience the full flow of the Lord’s blessing in his future min istry ? Heretofore he had coaxed. Now he must shoulder responsibility and show his authority. He hurried home at one o’clock when his work was done. All through the small hours of the new day, he pored over his Bible, finding, under the Spirit’s guidance^ the pas sages that bore on his need. He held them up before his Lord—and God met him. He would be with him in the plan that came to him in prayer. The time for the missionary speaker came. Howard was tense with expecta tion. He took Virginia to the auditorium, the same place in which his own soul was roused and turned to God. But there was no missionary that day. It was near commencement time. There would be a song practice instead. Of all times for such an unusual occur rence! Howard’s heart sank. His hopes and dreams were dashed to pieces in an instant. But Virginia liked the musical di rector. In fact she was enthusiastic about the practice. She had had a pleasant surprise, she said when the class was dismissed. She had expected to find a queer, bespectacled outfit of students and faculty. But here were normal young people who loved to sing and knew how to make the courts ring with their music. There was power in it. She liked them. Yes, she liked them, but how would liking them meet the need of her life? That was Howard’s concern. His heart was sick with despair after the high pitch to which all his thoughts had been keyed for days past. That afternoon Howard was to drive Virginia to the station. She got in the car. But Howard headed toward the hills.
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