November 1931
T h e
K i n g ' s
B u s i n e s s
485
... By LOUIS S. BAUMAN
The Haughtiness of Men Bowed Down I saiah 2:10-22 o N ahead , through the mists of twenty-seven centuries, went the glance of the eagle-eyed prophet, Isaiah, to behold the day when the nations shall “beat their swords into plowshares” and learn war no more (cf. Isa. 2:4). However, he solemnly informs us that, just before that day, “the lofty looks of man shall be humbled, and the haughtiness of men shall be bowed down, and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day. For the day of the Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up ; and he shall be brought low” (Isa. 2:11, 12). Already, heads that have been holding themselves “proud and lofty,” boasting their fullness of practical, sci entific gray matter, are beginning to realize that they are succeeding only in making a spectacle of themselves in a great world crisis. They failed to ward off a World War that has beggared almost every nation on earth. Now, in a world of plenty, millions starve; and in a world where there is so much to be done, millions have nothing to do ! What a commentary on this proud and lofty age! Little wonder is it that one of the greatest living news paper writers, writing recently in The Los Angeles Times, sneers at the pretended “bigness” of men who have so miserably failed us, saying: “Big business” has made a sad spectacle of itself. When a difficult time came, all that emerged from its brain cavity was a squawk. Our finance kings showed that, in the last analysis, they don’t know any more what it is about than a Hopi squaw. Again, he says: M oney F lies . This financial depression will bring about a great change in the thought processes of America. The batting average of the millionaire is due for 'a con siderable revision downward . . . F allen H eroes . The greatest reason for the collapse of the millionaire as a person of distinction, however, is that we have seen his insides. Before this panic, the money kings, whom Upton Sin clair calls, with great emotion, “our capitalistic masters,” were thought to be seers of such financial profundity and erudition and imperial power that they touched buttons and caused international panics, pulled strings and caused world wars. When it came to a show-down, we discovered to our pain that the Morgans and the Schwabs and the other money kings really know as much about economics as Bull Montana knows about playing a zither. Then he pays tribute to the power of the old Book: Sane and practical is the recommendation of the British radio interests for a return to prosperity. Every radio owner, as well as every one else, is asked to repeat the twenty-third psalm every day—“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” If this is done faithfully, it will do more than all the phoney advice given by “big business.” And I mean this literally and reverently. And then he adds: Since the World War we have entered into a mon
strous and disgusting debauch of materialism. We have worshiped the golden calf, and it has answered our -frightened prayers only with bleats. Yes, it is about time for “the lofty looks of man” to humbly bow before One long despised, but who is the only One who can answer with something besides “bleats” when the heart of the world is wrung with anguish and despair. The Sad Failure of “Men of Renown” G enesis 6:4-13; M atthew 24:37 T he writer and his wife have just completed a 7,000- mile jaunt which took us across or within a full one- half the States of the Union—from Long Beach on the Pacific, on through the heart of the nation to Atlantic City on the Atlantic, and back again along the shores of the Gulf of Mexico and the Rio Grande. The thing which made the strongest impression upon us was the goodness of God in causing the earth to pour out its riches so bounteously upon an undeserving world of men. Superabundantly the earth has thrust forth its wealth for the supply of every need and luxury that the millions of American people can know. Our journey began among great citrus groves laden with golden fruit, untold miles of vines hanging heavy with sweetness, and countless fields overburdened with vege table wealth. Even the desert beyond the San Bernardino Mountains was “blossoming as a rose,” the date-palms bowing heavily with their luscious burdens. The prairies of western and central Kansas were being piled high with vast stores of wheat, begging for a market. From eastern Kansas to Ohio, we were hemmed in along the way by walls of corn, never surpassed for size and weight of grain. Apples, peaches, plums, pears, berries—in fact there were fruit and vegetables in such abundance that tons and tons were rotting ocrthe ground because no one seemed to desire them sufficiently to pick them up. Through the Southland, hundreds of thousands of bushels of sweet potatoes, such as only the Southland can grow, literally begged for some one to purchase them “with a song.” There were vast cotton fields, but the same old story—a story significantly told by one great bale on the corner of a busy street in Houston, Texas, bearing A big sign, “Please put me on the bare back of some poor boy;!” From ocean to ocean and back again, the chief employment of hundreds of men in the oil fields seemed to be to fight against the earth’s desire to over whelm the nation with an unprecedented supply of oil and gas. Great coal mines everywhere were being held back be cause of an oversupply of the precious “black diamonds.” Tremendous herds of cattle and sheep were waiting over time for man to call for their vast supplies of meat, hides, wool, butter fats, and milk. Not only this, but the long track was lined with banks, stored with rusting silver and gold, wondering why it had lost the power to circulate. One-half the gold of the earth lies corrupting for want of use, along that pathway. All along the trail were mighty mills, running part time, or sometimes standing idle, wondering why they were not being used to help put those bales of cotton and fleeces of
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