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T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
October, 1942
place, or in Jerusalem, the Holy City. Listen again: It is not essential where, but how, and whom, and by whom. The place was insignificant—neither in this mountain nor in Jerusalem— not where but HOW and WHOM. True worshipers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth . . . Any where, in the home, in the desert, in the field, at the well, in the sanctuary, whenever and whenever the heart bows upon its knees. Wherever the heart bows . . ."God is a Spirit. They that worship Him must worship in spirit and in truth . . . This man talks as—as the Messiah w ill talk, when he comes— "I know,” she announces seriously, “that when Messias cometh . . . he w ill tell us all things.” The Stranger’s Revelation Then it was that the startling reve lation came— to a mind already pre pared by hunger for divine truth, and prepared also by the sense of her own sinfulness, by the thirsting of her spirit for satisfaction, by the sighing of her soul for rest—puzzling, throb bing, terrible words—revealing and thrilling wbrds they .were, as the stranger made his great announce ment there at the brink of the rustic old well. The words would ring in her mind all the way home, all the way along the singing slope of Ebal, all the way up the trail of life itself. She had said, “I know that when Messias cometh' . . .’’ and he had replied: “I • THAT • SPEAK - TO - THEE - AM - HE” ! 1 that speak to thee AM HE • . . I • AM . . , , Dazed, beautifully bewildered, she stares for a moment into the masonry- lined shaft of the upper part of the well, and into the soft limestone-,, walled lower part. ■ And then, suddenly the interview is over. Twelve strange men appear upon the scene, evidently friends of this prophet—this Messiah1 Swiftly, she turns, forgetful of why she had made the hot, dusty trip, under the blazing sun, not understanding, perhaps,-why she had providentially come, to the well at this hour rather than at some other—forgetful of the waterpot itself. She left it standing there, and hurried away to the city. Was there a song within her heart, perhaps? It was a song of the water that was the gift of God—“ For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is' eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” My friend, you stand now at God’s well. Let me ask.you, “WILL YOU DRINK NOW?” Believing and drink ing are the same thing. W ill you leave your Xvaterpot and begin today to carry within your heart a flowing well?
is speaking strange words—mysteri ous words: "If thou knewest the _gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee. Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water." Living water . . , How well he knew her aching heart, her longing for the truth, for a satisfaction that could quench the*terrible thirst within her soul—that could blot out the awful memories of sins committed, blot out the sins' themselves . . . BLACK SINS . . . could fill the awful void within her heart' the gnawing hunger of her spirit which all the wells of earth’s pleasures could not satisfy—could only intensify; and af terward smite with the sword of re morse. ■. . . But she does not know, not yet, who this man is—this God-Man. Not until afterward . . . She drinks only the surface meaning of his words, not from their depths, as she says, in essence, “The well is deep, and you have nothing—no water jar with which to draw, no cord long enough to reach one hundred feet to the water." The Stranger’s Offer Again he speaks—strange, mysteri ous words, burning words, .the very fire of which awakens within her again the thirst of her spirit—“Who soever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up. into ever lasting life . . .” One drink of the water of life, and, within the one who drinks, there is born an artesian spring that flows forever. One drink, and an eternal spring is born! What is he saying? . . . Who is this man? Perhaps after all he is only speaking of material water to satisfy the natural thirst of the appetite . . . Foolishly, she speaks in reply, g“Sir, give me this water, that I thirst not, neither come hither to draw.” And then, like a sword, the words leap from the man’s lips—like a sword piercing, because they tear a gaping wound within, and in one swift stroke lay bare the ugly, festering sin of her life— "Go, call thy husband"! Go, call thy husband! Strangely then, her eyes are opened.’ Those tvords are like the light of a blazing sun, as they cast the shadow of her sin across her memory, and in that light she sees . . . “ Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet.” A prophet was a man of God gifted with supernatural knowledge. He would know how to worship God. He would know where— whether in this mountain which her own people claimed to be the right
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• Pam ri-by who pause at tht drinking fountain at the Church of th« Open Door, Los Angeles, are offered far more than the satis faction of their physical thirst. Above the fountain (pictured in the above sketch) ap pears the gracious assurance of Christ, "Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst.” Stirred by these words to a consciousness of their own soul thirst, men and women have turned aside to enter the Lord's house, there to hear the Word of Life. WHERE SOLDIERS SEE PRAYER ANSWERED [ Continued from Page 365] soldiers come in for a cup of' hot coffee or tea, a huge slice of home made cak-e and a moment before the open fire, they are willing to listen to anything that goes with it! When they learn that all this is made avail able by ¡people because of their love pf the Lord Jesus Christ, they mani fest a sense o£ gratitude to them and to Him. From then on they are re ceptive, to the gospel as the claims of Christ are pressed. And personal work is carried on continuously. The Soldiers’ Views of Morning Cheer What do the boys, themselves, think of the Center? Their letters leave no doubt of their appreciation. One writes: “As an honest Christian sol dier’s view of. the Morning C h e e r Center, I feel that it is a God-sent building. I praise God for a social center w h i c h partakes of spiritual worship as. well, and has good litera ture. It is really a fine place for ahy soldier, morally, physically, or spirit-
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