the cross-pieces. It was hot and humid and the man, even though he wasn’t actually nailed to the cross, was really suffering as again he was trying by his own efforts to gain merit. As Manuel and Roberto watched, the idea was bom. They were too young to join the Flagellantes. A d u lt p e o p le would not have allowed it. But this was something they could do. And so it had come about that Manuel was “playing Penitenfia,” and Roberto was to be the one who brought him something to drink. They could not build an actual cross but a tree near the “man on the cross” se rved as well. The authorities would not stop them for they did not know. But Manuel was getting so very tired and thirsty and still Roberto did not come. He could hear the noise of the crowd below. Sometimes it all ran together like the sound of the breakers on his island home; now it was going further away. Was the crowd leaving? Where was Roberto? “ Roberto,” he tried to call as he felt himself slipping and knew dimly that he was falling but could do nothing about it. . . . The place where Manuel awoke was very clean and had a queer smell. He had never been in a hospital before but he knew that was where he must be. He was glad to be alive, though when he tried to move he knew something was wrong.
“ Poor little fellow;” he heard a voice that sounded like the Ameri canos he had heard that morning. “ It is a miracle he was not killed. It will take those bones time to heal but he should then be as good as new.” Manuel slowly opened his eyes and looked first into the face of the American doctor and then into the eyes of the little Filipino nurse. She was smiling at him and Manuel felt reassured and less afraid. “Manuel,” she said softly. For Roberto had come. He had been running back with a drink when he had seen Manuel fall. He had called for help and soon Manuel was being cared for by willing and skillful hands. So they knew who he was. He was not lost. “Manuel,” the nurse continued. “ You believe that God died today, don’t you? And when you tried to be the ‘man on the cross’ today, you were truly trying to feel a bit of the suffering of the Lord when He was nailed to the cross?” “ Yes,” Manuel whispered. “But you see,” the little nurse went on, “ God didn’t die today. The Lord Jesus Christ died for you. He died for me. But He died once and for all. And then He rose from the dead and His resurrection from the grave was proof that His sacri fice had been accepted by God the Father. And all we need do is to give Him our hearts. You see, the Flagellantes can gain nothing by
shedding their own blood. The ‘man on the cross’ is only blasphem ing God, though he doesn’t know any differently for he has not been given the Word of God.” “ You are a Protestante?” Man uel whispered. “Yes, but I am first a Christian, accepting the only atonement there is through the shed blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, rejoicing that He lives and I am His.” Manuel listened but said nothing more. All day he thought about what the nurse had told him and read the tract she had given him. It was in Tagalog and right across the front page were the words: “He Died for Me.” Was it true? Had the truth been kept from them? Manuel was thinking as he had never thought before. And when on Sunday morning, Easter Sun day, a group of Christian Filipino young people came to the hospital ward, Manuel could join in from his heart though he didn’t know all the right words when they sang, “He Lives” and “ Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” Bearing shame and scoffing rude, In my place condemned He stood; Sealed my pardon with His blood: Hallelujah1 What a Saviour! He read the words again from the tract. It was true! And as soon as he got out of the hospital, he resolved he would tell Roberto and his parents about this wonderful thing that had happened to him.
"C A L L O F T H E N O R T H ” A R C T I C M I S S I O N S , I N C . F O R M E R L Y A L A S K A M I S S I O N S ,
I N C O R P O R A T E D B o x 7 5 6 A N C H O R A G E , A L A S K A
A n evangelical nondenominational missionary m inistry to Alaska and the A rc tic regions. A faith Mission organized On the field and operated on the field. A challenge to consecrated virile Missionaries who are willing to be obedient to the W o rd o f God . For fu ll information , contact or write to : ARCT IC MISSIONS, INC. Rev. John M. Gillespie, General Director, Box 756, Anchorage, Alaska
APRIL 1957
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