# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1882_S29 # Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration) The Mutheran Pioneer. A MISSIONARY MONTHLY. PUBLISHED BY THE EVANGELICAL LutHeraN SynopicAL CoNnFERENCE oF NortH AMERICA. R. A. BISCHOFF, Editor. Entered at the Post Oflice at St. Louis, Mo., as second-class matter. Vol. IV. St. Louis, Mo., August, 1882. No. 8. A Dear Old Bible. A few days ago an old English Lutheran farmer from Pennsylvania came to our study and brought us an old well-worn English Bible which he requested us to place in our College library. The Bible had been given to him in the year 1817 when he was ten years old, and he read it through 97 times. When his eyes grew dim with old age, he was obliged to get a Bible with larger print. ‘ But this Bible,’”’ he said, ‘‘has been my dear companion and friend for many years, and I would like to have it preserved in a Lutheran library.”” We gladly complied with the wish of the old Christian, and gave. his dear old Bible a place in our College library. There it stands as a wit- ness of the power of God’s Word. No human book could have been such a dear companion and friend to the old Christian farmer. Such a boek he might have read once or twice and then he would have been done with it, be- cause it could teach him nothing more, and to read it again would have been like spending time in going over the alphabet. But this Bible he read ninety-seven times and found something new, something fresh, something unutterably sweet and comforting at each suc- cessive reading. It passed with him through days of sorrow and joy. Over its pages he hung many a day and night with tears of con- trition, with smiles of gladness and of hope. When disappointment came, when the de- sertion of those whom he trusted came, when the bitterness of enemies came, when disease came, when the last look upon the face of some loved one came, when the deep shadow of a grave came to rest upon his heart and home— in every trying experience of his long life this Bible was his dear friend and comforting com- panion. ‘And I know,” he said, as he left our study, ‘‘that on my dying-bed I will be sus- tained by the sweet promises which I learned from the dear old Bible.” —> +oaror Two Planks. There were two planks laid across 2 stream, one of which was sound and the other rotten. A man came along and tried to walk on both, but down he fell into the water. So he who partly trusts in the righteousness of Christ and partly in his own righteousness will surely fail of eternal life. Christ is the only way to heaven. ‘Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved,’’ Acts 4, 12. It is not the work of Christ and something added that saves us, but the work of Christ alone, apart from anything and everything we can do or feel, as having the slightest merit in the sight of God. The finished work of Jesus is the only sound plank upon which sinners can cross over the river of - death into eternal life. Don’t try to walk at the same time upon the rotten plank of your own righteousness, of your own good conduct, of your good feelings, or of anything you find in your own sinful self. It is a rotten plank. And if a man tries to walk on a sound and a rotten plank at the same time, he will as cer- tainly fall into the water, as if neither were strong enough to bear his weight. Trust only in the finished work of Christ and you shall be saved. A minister was making a pastoral visit to an old Scotch woman, who had for a long time been trying to be saved. _Her cottage could be reached only by passing over a rapid brook that was bridged by a single plank. At first he feared to venture up, but the woman seeing his hesitation hurried from the door with the cry, ‘‘Just trust it’’; and in a moment he stood by her side. ‘‘Woman,” he said, ‘‘the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from.all sin ; just trust it? She did give up trying to walk on the rotten plank of her own efforts. She sim- ply trusted in the blood of Jesus, and her peace was like a river. ——>- oe Believing Enough. A short time ago, says a pastor, 2 woman came to see me as an inquirer. Speaking to cher about the Lord Jesus, I asked her what she thought of Him. She replied, ‘I think He is One who can do anything.” ‘Then He can pardon your sins,’’ said I. «‘‘Yes,’’ she said, “TI know He can pardon my sins, if I believe enough.’” After some further talk, which showed me that she was, like many others, longing for more faith, I took up my Bible, and, turning to Acts 10, asked her to read aloud to me the 43d verse. She read as follows: ‘*To Him give all the prophets witness, that through His name whosoever believeth.in Him shall receive re- mission of sins.’’ ‘*Have you not left out a word?’”’ I asked. ‘*No.’’ - ‘‘Are you sure?”’ “Yes,” she replied, as her eye again ran over the verse. ‘‘ Now, read it to me once more,’ I asked; and again she read the verse aloud. When she had done so, I said, ‘‘Are you quite sure you have not left out a word?’’ ‘Yes, quite sure.” ‘‘Then,’ I said, ‘you and the Apostle contradict each other; for he says, ‘whosoever believeth in Him,’ while you say, ‘whosoever believeth enough;’ now, who knows best, and who is likely to be right?’ “The Apostle is right, quite right,’’ said the woman, her eyes beaming with joy. A Hard Way. There is not a day passes but you can read in the pages of the daily papers, “The way of the transgressor is hard.’’ ‘ You go to the Tombs in New York City and you will find a little iron bridge running from the police court, where the men are tried, right into the cells. The New York officials had put up there in iron letters on that iron bridge, “The way of the transgressor is hard.’’. They know that it is true. Blot it out if you can. God has saidit. Itistrue. ‘‘The way of the transgressor is hard.’’ On the other side of that bridge they put these words—‘‘A Bridge of Sighs.’’ I said to one of the officers, ‘‘What did they put that up there for?”’ He replied that most of the young men— for most of the criminals are young men—as they pass over that iron bridge went over it weeping. So they called it the Bridge of Sighs. “What made you put that other, ‘The way of the transgressor is hard’?’” “Well,’’ he said, ‘‘it is hard. I think if you had anything to do with the prison you would believe that text, ‘The way of the transgressor is hard.’”’—Selected.