# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1890_S21 # Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration) w Che Lutheran Pioneer, | A MISSIONARY MONTHLY. PUBLISHED BY THE EVANGELICAL LUTHERAN SyNODICAL CONFERENCE oF NortH AMERICA. . R. A. BISCHOFF, Editor. Entered at the Post Oftice at St. Louis, Mo., as second-class matter. Vol. XII. St. Louis, Mo., June, 1890. No. 6. The last Hymn. The dear Lord's day was ending In a village by the sea, The uttered benediction ‘Touched the people tenderly. And they rose to face the sunset In the glowing lighted west, And then hastened to their dwellings For God's blessed boon of rest. But they looked across the waters, And a storm was raging there; A flerce spirit moved above them, The wild spirit of the air, And it lashed and shook and tore them, Till they thundered, groaned and boomed, And alas! for any vessel In their yawning gulfs entombed! Very anxious were the people On that rocky coast of Wales, Lest the dawn of coming morrows Should be telling awful tales, When the sea had spent its passion And should cast upon the shore Bits of wreck and swollen victims, As it had done heretofore. With the rough winds blowing round her, A brave woman strained her eyes, And she saw along the billows A large vessel fall and rise; Oh, it did not need a prophet To tell what the end must be, For no ship could ride in safety Near the shore on such a sea. Then pitying people hurried : From their homes, and thronged the beach, Oh, for power to cross the water, And the perishing to reach! Helpless hands were wrung for sorrow, Tender hands grew cold with dread, And the ship, urged by the tempest, To the fatal rock-shore sped. ‘She has parted in the middle! Oh, the half of her goes down! God have mercy! Oh! is heaven Far to seek for those who drown?” Lo! when next the white shocked faces Looked with terror on the sea, . Only one last clinging figure On the spars was seen to be. And near the trembling watchers Came the wreck tossed by the wave, And the man still clung and floated, Though no power on earth could save. “Could we send him a short message?"’ “Here’s a trumpet—Shout away !’’ 'Twas the preacher’s hand that took it, And he wondered what to say. Any memory of his sermon, Firstly—secondly—ah, no! There was but one thing to utter In the awful hour of woe; So he shouted through the trumpet, “ook to Jesus! Can you hear?’’ And “Ay, ay, sir!’’ rang the answer O’er the waters, loud and clear. Then they listened; He is singing, “Jesus, lover of my soul!”’ And the winds brought back the echo, “While the nearer waters roll,” Strange, indeed, it was to hear him, “Till the storm of life was passed,”’ Singing bravely from the waters, “Oh, receive my soul at last!’’ He could havo no other refuge, “Hangs my helpless soul on Thee,”’ “Leave, ah, leave me not’’—The singer Dropped at last into the sea; And the watchers, looking homeward Through their eyes, with tears made dim, Said, ‘‘He passed to be with Jesus, In the singing of that hymn.’’ —» oa oe Cleansed from Sin. A Hindoo, being anxious about his salvation, asked his priest, how he might be cleansed from sin. The priest said, ‘‘ You must drive a num- ber of iron spikes through your sandals, and on these sandals you must place your naked feet, and walk to the holy station, about four hun- dred miles. If, through loss of blood or weak- ness of body, you are unable to go on, you must halt and wait for healing and strength. When you have thus reached the station, you may hope, that your soul will be cleansed.” The poor Hindoo was in earnest to save his soul, and set out on his painful journey. At length he could go no further and sat down beneath the inviting shade of a wide-spreading tree. It happened that a Christian missionary lived near the spot; and at this very tree he was wont to take his stand, and to preach the | words of life to all that would gather to hear. The poor foot-sore Hindoo had not been here AES OE Oe ee long before the missionary came to his usual labor. He cried aloud: ‘‘ The blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, cleanseth us from all sin’? (1 John 1, 7). He began to show what sin was in the sight of God. He pressed guilt home upon his hearers and showed the utter hopelessness of man saving himself by his own doings or sufferings. He went on to show God’s way of salvation through the blood- shedding of His own well-beloved Son. These glad sounds fell upon the ears of the poor Hindoo like rain on the thirsty soil. He drank in every word, and, at length, plucking off his torturing sandals, he sprang up and cried out with joy: ‘‘Zhis is what I want! This is the thing for me!’’ He followed the missionary home; gladly received the word and believed it; and became a lively witness that the blood of Jesus Christ does indeed cleanse from sin. It had cleansed him. The same Gospel is still preached to sinners in order to cleanse them from their sin. To you, as to the poor heathen, comes the blessed message—‘' The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin,’’ from all sin, from ALL! That blood which made atonement for sin, bas been shed once for all, and now, by its cleansing power, it cleanses and saves all who trust in it. It does not need anything of yours to be added to it. Christ alone is the Saviour, and He will not share the glory of His finished work with you. You must be saved like the poor Hindoo. He threw away his sandals when he found Jesus as his Saviour; in like manner do you throw away whatever you find in your own sinful self, and cling only to Jesus. Yea, His dear blood and righteousness My jewels are, my glorious dress, Wherein before my God Ill stand, When I shall reach the heavenly land. Once in beautiful weather in May, Luther said, ‘What a picture of the Resurrection! See how the trees are dressed for their bridal! How delightfully all is growing green! What a pre- cious May! Ah, that we would only trust God! What will it be in the life beyond, if God can show us such great delights in this pilgrimage and this troubled life!”