"Say to the Cities . . Behold Your God"

MAKE it as sure as you can," were Pi­late's parting words to the Pharisees, who seemed concerned about body snatchers. How this Roman must have congratulated himself when he learned from the centurion that Jesus was now dead. No more would he be troubled with this strange and silent revolutionary. Be­ing a pagan, the Roman governor was sure death was the end, the terminal point of all life's ambitions. Yet, when man has done his worst God can always add a clos­ing chapter.

The scenes that had disgraced the city were now all in the past and Pilate wanted to forget the whole incident, especially the Man he had scourged and sent to Gol­gotha. But there was something about that Teacher he could not dismiss from his mind. Although His body was outlined against the sky and later laid away in the darkness of a borrowed grave, Pilate could not forget.

A short time earlier the sun had hid its face, causing strange darkness to cover all the land. But that was hours ago and Pi­late was determined these events should be forgotten. Had he not washed his hands in innocency? But neither Pilate nor the

Pharisees could make that sepulcher "safe." Even though a Roman guard was placed at the entry, that tomb could not be kept closed, nor could the Prisoner be kept dead. It might be safe from all out­ward appearances, but in just a few hours the stone would rumble from the sepulcher and Jesus would step out alive!

That briefly is the story of the resurrec­tion, and to the Advent ministry the Lord's messenger gave her parting commission: "Of all professing Christians, Seventh-clay Adventists should be foremost in uplifting Christ before the world."—Evangelism, p. 188.

There is no more propitious time to tell the story of God's victory than the season known as Easter. What God did at Calvary affects not only Pilate and the crucifiers, but every man and woman who has ever lived.

The Christian religion is not just another human philosophy; it is the story of God's great plan to save sinners. There are many "do-it-yourself" religions. But all these over­look the fact that God has already recon­ciled the world to Himself. The redemption price was fully paid nineteen centuries ago. All that God asks of us is to tell the world the good news.

One of^-the strangest paradoxes of all time is the new movement called Christian Athe­ism—the "God is dead" advocates. And these are not among the ignorant classes, but in some of the universities.

If ever a generation needed to hear the forthright proclamation of the truth as it is in Jesus, it is this generation. Amid the confusion of our time let the people hear and feel the dynamics of the real saving gospel.

Glorious, more glorious, is the crown

Of Him that brought salvation down,

Thy meekness called thy Son;

Thou that stupendous truth believed,

And now the matchless deed's achieved,

Determined, dead, and done.

Yes, it is done, finished, accomplished. Our cosmic world stands differently re­lated to God than it was before the cross. It was His by act of creation; it is now doubly His because of His mighty act of redemption.

The most dynamic word ever uttered by human lips pierced the ghostly silence of that dark Friday afternoon. Like a clap of thunder those waiting near the cross heard Tetelestai—Finished! Mission ac­complished! This was no moan of defeat; it was a shout of triumph! Our Saviour's life was no "Unfinished Symphony." He had not lived in vain. He finished the work He came to do. By His death He reconciled the world to God.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote his own epitaph, part of which reads:

"Here lies one who meant well,

Tried a little,

Failed much."

And among the last words of Cecil Rhodes were:

"So little done,

So much to do."

But when Jesus gave that shout He knew the battle was won. He sensed that Satan had been defeated, that his kingdom had been overthrown.

Sacrificially Christ's work was finished, but in reality it had only begun. True, the world was reconciled to God, but His great ministry of intercession as High Priest had only commenced when He offered Him­self upon the cross. That very cross which men and demons thought would be the end of Him became both an altar and a throne. Until the end of time men and women of all ranks and races would turn their thoughts to that bald hill and claim forgiveness.

Even on that day of seeming defeat the Master began to see the results of the tra­vail of His soul. The thief who railed upon Him later called Him Lord. The persecutors who plotted the deadly deed admitted incidentally that He saved others. Because He could not save Himself and at the same time save others He gave Him­self that He might win a world and lead a lost race back to God. And the centurion who superintended the execution ex­claimed: "Truly, this was the Son of God."

When the apostle wrote to Corinth he said: "We preach Christ," but he added one more word, "crucified." That added word makes all the difference. To preach Christ as the apostles preached Him we must know from experience what it is to die with Him and be raised in resurrection power "from dead works to serve the living God."

Hugh Thomson Kerr states the case ably in these words: " 'We are sent not to preach sociology but salvation; not eco­nomics but evangelism; not reform but redemption; not culture but conversion; not progress but pardon; not the new so­cial order but the new birth; not revolu­tion but regeneration; not renovation but revival; not resuscitation but resurrec­tion; not a new organization but a new creation; not democracy but the gospel; not civilization but Christ. We are ambas­sadors not diplomats.' "—The Shepherd-Evangelist, p. 393.

An ambassador is charged with the re­sponsibility of representing his country. He does not speak his own words but makes known the message of his chief. And is that not our task?

In the war museum in London hangs a picture that the Royal Corps of Signalers commissioned to be painted. It depicts heroism seldom matched at any time. One of their company had been assigned to re­pair a broken cable. The fate of the whole battalion depended upon communication' getting through. Crawling out over no man's land this signaler discovered to his dismay that the broken ends would not meet. What could he do? He himself would be the line of communication. Lying there on the snow this brave man grasped a broken end in each bare hand, thus per­mitting the current to pass through his lifeless form. One word at the bottom of the picture tells the story—"THROUGH." What a picture of Calvary! Hanging on that ugly tree, His arms extended wide, our Lord took the broken ends and linked lost humanity with the God of love.

King David's lament over the death of his ungrateful, good-for-nothing son is a poignant revelation of a grief-stricken fa­ther: "0 my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee." He would have gladly given his life for his son but no gift of human life is great enough to save a soul. For "none . . . can by any means redeem his brother, nor give to God a ransom for him" (Ps. 49: 7). Only God who has life in Himself could die to save mankind. And that is what happened at Calvary. The atone­ment is the story of a King who took the place of a slave, of a Judge who became His own prisoner. On that dark day when Christ felt forsaken of His Father He was paying the redemption price of a rebel­lious world. "Would God I had died for thee," He cried. And so He did.

Fellow preachers, we must proclaim sal­vation in the light of the empty tomb. That which gave point and power to the apostolic message was not only the death of Christ, but the resurrection. Had He not been raised we would still be in our sins. He rose for our justification and now ministers at God's right hand for us. Soon He will return as King of kings and Lord of lords. "Of all _.professing Christians" let us be "foremost in uplifting Christ before the world."        

R. A. A