proached us graciously, discreetly clad in a flowing black chiffon sari, dainty black sandals and match ing sun-glasses. She had a smooth, clear complex ion, and her jet-black hair was drawn back into a soft, French roll. Sentries in their pill-box booths proudly salut ed their Rani though barely seen through the dark ly stained car windows. Then the vehicle moved slowly down the broad pavement, out the great gate and into another world. An observer would never have guessed this to be our initial meeting, so warm and mutual did the conversation turn to be. Our sorrows, joys, responsibilities and convictions were all frankly shared. I found this royal lady none other than the woman I had believed her to be, a woman seek ing God. The afternoon sped by. On our return trip to the palace the Rani, apparently satisfied with her findings, turned to me and softly said, “ I wish you could visit me in the palace, but my husband is so rigid about blue-blood!” Wistfully I wondered if that honor would ever be conferred upon me, although I knew the Lord had promised this very thing when upon entering Biola for India, He had promised through Proverbs 22:29, “ Seest thou a man diligent in His business? He shall stand before kings.” I was fully aware that the Rani’s temple had been the scene of much blood-letting, with sacri fices fully recognized as efficacious for sin. Hindus correctly deem man as the sacrifice par excellence, but fail to comprehend that only the One “Who knew no sin” has already taken away the sin of the world, that man by faith “might be made the righteousness o f God in Him.” The great need of the hour, as a selected evan gelist said recently, is that men and women in high social circles be won to Christ that they in turn might influence their own needy peoples. The work of the Lord needs well-rounded “ Philips” who not only are capable o f evangelizing the masses, but just as apt in hitching on to the royal chariots to point the humble élite to JESUS. m
she recognized the transforming power of the Word of God and conscientiously brought her en tire family with her each Sunday. During one such Sunday worship service, a bearer elbowed his way with an urgent message. The Rani’s host was now dying, and his believing wife urged us to visit and pray. So we promised to call the following day. The host’s heart had been open to the gospel, for he had seen through the foolishness o f idolatry long before, and was now resting in the faithful ness and love of Jesus. His amazing response to treatment astounded the Rani. She had spent a small fortune on this important officer in various city hospitals, only to have him returned a hope less case! Hitherto, strictly adhering to customary seclu sion, the Rani now sent an invitation for a get- acquainted-visit, not to the palace in the absence of the Raja, but for a country drive in her private limousine. The King had held fast to protocol, keeping his Queen in strictest seclusion, only re laxing this custom when vacationing in the hills. The élite in the district were irked at this rigidity, but wisely avoiding jealousy amongst his subjects, the Raja was unyielding. Fully aware of the significance o f the Rani’s gesture, we with gladness accepted the invitation only to find the day was deemed an inauspicious one! However, the elements co-operated, and after a delay o f a day or two we were informed that the visit was to go forward as planned. Ringing his bell continuously, the spirited cycl ist had pedalled the Rani’s rickshaw to our door. Springing to the ground, he had delivered the fol lowing instructions : “ The car and escort will wait beyond the bridge.” So, losing no time, we quickly squeezed into the vehicle and were off down the dusty, bumpy road to the highway where the vil lagers, seemingly aware of the honored invitation, scattered smilingly, leaving a clear path to the bridge. The toll collector had knowingly nodded us on to the waiting vehicle ablaze in the brilliant sun. Curious, the mob peered as the uniformed escort with quiet dignity transferred us into the immaculate vehicle, which then moved off quietly and in through the open gate, right into these cloistered courts. As I waited the arrival of the Rani, I noted the artistic private temple, depicting several incarnations of the great hero Vishnu. The black idols, thirsty for sacrificial blood, stood guarding the doors. They furnished a perfect han dle for the message of salvation, to point souls to the great Door of the sheep, whose precious blood opens the way into the holiest of all, the very presence of the living God. Suddenly a door opened widely, and assisted by a jubilant maid, the Rani made her appearance. Curtsying beautifully, with a ready smile she ap
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JULY/AUGUST, 1969
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