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vision, of a perfect propitiation for the sins of the believer; but the application of the propitiation is never gracious; it is none other than the faithfulness and justice of the Father. Therefore grace does not appear in the forgiving and cleansing of the Christian’s sins. The Scripture gives four names to Christians, taken from the four cardinal graces so essential to man’s salvation: saints for their holiness, believers for their faith, brethren foy their love, dis ciples for their knowledge.—A. Fuller. I D O N ’T BELIEVE The following: poem was prompted by the fulm inations of a Congregational preacher at Eagle R ock, Cal.: I don’t believe the Bible was inspired. I can’t conceive that God would have de sired To lead His Israel, whom He loved so well. Up to H is Canaan from* Egyptian hell. I don’t believe the story o f the fall; I won’t concede that Adam lived at all. I w ill accept no theory o f sin That counts the Serpent or the Devil in. I don’t believe in miracles. You see My reason tells me that they couldn’t be; And so, the m iracle of God Himself, W ith all the rest, I lay upon the shelf. I imist believe that Jesus really died. (A ‘‘Cloud o f W itnesses” has testified); But that He rose again I w on’t adm it; ’Twould be a miracle. I can’t stand fo r it. I don’t believe that Jesus went to stay In a ‘‘far country” , ’gainst H is Coming Day; That statement bold I must also bewail, And count it simply as a fairy tale. I don’t believe that Christ w ill come again; He is here now, within the hearts of men; Since Pentecost He’s been here all the while; Perhaps that’s why men are so free from guile. I don’t believe that Jesus died fo r me; He is divine, and so, indeed, are we. W hy need atonement thro’ a Savior’s blood, Since all mankind is pure, and just, and good ? I won’t believe the world is grow in g w orse; Who holds to that must be him self per verse. Mankind is better; look around and see How all we Modernists uplift Society. WM. D. PAGE, Eagle Rock, Calif.
THE READ MYSTERY . A gentleman, who thought Christian ity was merely a heap of puzzling prob lems, said to an old minister, “ That is a very strange verse in the ninth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, ‘Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.’ ” “Very strange,” replied the minister; “but what is it, sir, that you see most strange about it?” “Oh, that part of course,” said the gentleman, patronizingly, and with an air of surprise, “ ‘Esau have I hated,’ Is cer tainly very strange.” “Well, sir,” said the minister, “how wonderfully are we made, ahd how dif ferently constituted. The strangest part of all to me is that He could ever have loved Jacob.” ; There is no mystery so glorious as the mystery of Ood’s love.' I ate ate RAVEN OR DOVE? When the flood began to recede, Noah sent out a raven from the ark which re turned not to him again because she found food and freedom on the carcasses which floated on the surface of the water. He later sent out a dove which came back with a twig in her mouth, hut which, after being sent forth a second time, came not back to him because she had found food and liberty in the boughs of the trees. How many people there are who feed their imaginations on) the rot tenness there is in the world; they look for that which is corrupt; its existence they “roll as a sweet morsel under their tongues.” They seem to be moral scav engers. Others look for that which is clean and beautiful and dwell in an at mosphere that is fragrant with their own purity of thought and nature. Both find what they look for, and enough of it to satisfy their demands. It may be that we cannot all be doves, but let us not all be ravens!—Baptist and Reflector.
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