Pointer's

THE NATURAL BRANCHES

Have you ever baptized a member of the Hebrew faith? No?

Then have you ever really tried? Or do you unconsciously consider them out­side the reach of the gospel that we preach? Do you consider all Hebrews cursed because of the cruci­fixion? If so, then to what extent do the Gentiles share in this guilt? And further, who drove the nails into the Master's hands and feet and pierced His side, and crowned His innocent brow with thorns? These were Gentiles. We may properly conclude, then, that any curse consequent to the crucifixion is on both Jew and Gentile. On the Jew for condemnation and the Gentile for execution. And upon us all for our participation in the sin that occasioned His death.

Why then this worldwide neglect of the natural branches by the individual evangelist? Protestant­ism has emphasized the Jews' part in the crucifix­ion with such vigor that it has alienated him from Christianity and from a large part of the com­munity. This, rather than traditional Judaism, has done more to render the Jew inaccessible than anything else. In a recent council session, the Cath­olic council has suggested a reapproachment to the crucifixion question in terms of universal guilt. This is obviously an evangelistic approach and, I may say, a wise one. Too long has the wild olive tree boasted against the natural branches. If for no other reason than our spiritual indebtedness, Chris­tianity must reach the natural branches. E. E. C.

"BRING THE BOOKS"

Among the last recorded words of the great apostle is this simple expression, "Bring the books." Books were a vital part of this veteran preacher's life, and now in his closing hours he longed for the comfort and inspiration of great books. Books are wonder­ful friends, always ready to share ideas with you; and if you neglect them, they never resent it.

Addressing a group of ministers at an important meeting, my friend, the late Dr. William Stidger, was stressing the importance of reading. He said: "A man who stands before the public must read. He owes it to himself and his hearers to read at least one new book a week." This startled some of those present and one spoke up: "You don't really mean that, do you? How can a busy minister find time to read? A book a week! That's fantastic! Why, the average minister does not read a book a month."

"True," replied Dr. Stidger, "and that's the rea­son he is average. And he always will be average until he changes his pattern of life."

Yes, books bulge our horizons. They lift us out of mediocrity. Good authors always challenge us to do better. To keep abreast of the times ministers must read much and often. For one to suggest he does not have time is to confess he is not really or­ganized. We always have time for so-called essen­tials, such as meals and social appointments. And reading is an essential.

President Theodore Roosevelt was making a long journey on the train. (No air travel in those days.)

It was already after midnight, but a friend found the President of the United States immersed in a book. "You seem to like reading," he remarked.

"Yes, I do," replied the Chief Executive. "I like it, and I also know how essential it is. I was so busy today that I did not get my book read."

"You mean a book a day?" he asked.

"Yes, that's what I mean, and I have read at least one book a day for many years."

With the pressing burdens of a nation upon his shoulders Theodore Roosevelt made time to read.

He was a minister of state, not a minister of the gospel, yet Paul's counsel, "give attention to read­ing," was so vital to him that he closed the conversation with the assertion that he never felt the day complete until he had read his book. If hard work and application makes a man a genius, then he was. But genius comes more by perspiration than by inspiration. So "bring the books."

R. A. A.

SHALL I CRY?

G. Campell Morgan has aptly said, "Fallen man is a living lie, a ruined instrument." His only hope of redemp­tion is in the glorious light of the gospel. To the gospel minister there is no alternative to the com­mand of Isaiah 40:6. "The voice said, Cry." Not with muted whisper nor apologetic murmur. "Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet" (Isa. 58:1). What you have to say is worth saying, therefore it merits audience. Emphasize it! Speak with passion born of compassion. With desperate intensity urge God's people heavenward. To the question "What shall I cry?" there is but one an­swer now—"Cry!"

Second only to the imperative fact, is the ques­tion, "What shall I cry?" Tell them that "Flesh is grass," and that grass withers. It is not self-sustain­ing. It must be constantly nourished from without. Shortage of water, sunshine, or nourishing soil and it withers away. Declare the depravity of human nature and its helplessness to save itself. Lay bare the sins of the house of Jacob. Tell them more. Preach the perpetuity of the Word of God. Call their attention to the true and living God. Tell them that "the Lord God will come with strong hand." And that "he shall feed his flock like a shepherd." In fact there is enough to preach on in Isaiah 40 to span the lifetime of the average minister. The man with the zeal to pry will find plenty about which to cry! Won't you try?

E. E. C.