“Did you ever think of Christ as having come voluntarily away from heaven and glory to live down here and be crucified in your place, just as if He had been the sinner, not you? Have you ever considered Him there upon the cross in your place, where you belonged, bearing upon His sinless self every thought and word and action, and even that indifference of yours, just as if they had been His sins, and bearing it even unto death?”
As the young chaplain talked, he seemed to be possessed of a supernatural power to create a picture of what he was saying, so that as he went on, with simple words like strokes of an artist’s brush, there appeared a vision before the listeners’ eyes of the Christ, standing before His persecutors; standing before Pilate and those unbelievers who would stone Him, kill Him, anything to get rid of Him. Somehow Charlie began to feel himself one of those unbelievers who had not accepted the Christ for what He was willing to be to him, and a great desire came into his heart to align himself with the followers of Jesus, and not with the unbelievers. He felt it so keenly that he longed to be able to go up to that silent figure standing alone and tell Him he wanted to follow Him. It was not pity he felt, for somehow that quiet figure of the Savior of the world, who seemed to be standing up there on the platform alone, had a majesty about Him that defied pity.
And now came the cross, and Jesus, lifted up with all that sin—sin of the whole world—upon Him, and all the world’s death punishment to bear! Never before had Charlie Montgomery felt that he himself had had anything to do with hanging the Son of God upon that cross. But now he suddenly saw it. Charlie Montgomery, who had always been so proud of himself that he had gone through school and college against such great odds, always so smugly sure that he was doing the right thing, and always would do the right thing, he had been one who had helped to crucify the Son of God when He was dying for him!
It was very still in that big hall. The speaker had utmost attention. Perhaps all those young men were seeing that same vision of Jesus, up there suffering for their sins.
Once Charlie gave a quick glance around and saw the deep interest in all eyes. Even the boy by his side was all interest. Jesus, the Savior of the world, was holding them all, and Charlie Montgomery felt that he had found what he had been seeking—a Person. Jesus the crucified was what he sought. It was his mother’s Christ. He had a strange feeling during the closing prayer that he wanted to slip up to that platform and tell the Christ who had been dying there for him that now he believed. That now henceforward through what days were left for him to live, he wanted to walk with Christ. He bowed his head quietly and found there were tears on his face.
As the petition at the close of that wonderful message came to an end, the big man with the great voice and the red hair began to sing.
“I would love to tell you what I think of Jesus,
Since I found in Him a friend so strong and true;
I would tell you how He changed my life completely,
He did something that no other friend could do.”
How that voice stirred the throng of young men! And then Charlie felt himself to be a part of a company of astonishingly saved people. There was no reasoning it out. Jesus
Christ had been up there before them all, dying for them, and Charlie had found out he was a sinner, too, with all the rest of them. The singer went on giving his testimony.
“No one ever cared for me like Jesus,
There’s no other friend so kind as He;
No one else could take the sin and darkness from me,
O how much He cared for me!”
When it was over they stood there looking toward the platform.
“Wantta go up and speak to him?” asked Walter shyly. “He don’t mind. He likes the fellas to come up, and he’s swell about explaining things he’s said. The fellas all call him ‘Link.’”
Charlie gave a thoughtful look at his young companion.
“Have you been up before?” he asked.
“Sure, I been up a coupla times. I like ta hear him talk.”
“All right! Come on!” said Charlie, and followed his young guide up to the front, where Link Silverthorn was talking interestedly with a lot of the men, as if they were all intimate friends. So they drew nearer and nearer to the eager group around the speaker, until they could hear, and became a part of the innermost group. At last Charlie came to be in the forefront, listening, with keen eyes on Link Silverthorn.
And then suddenly Link’s eyes caught Charlie’s glance, and he came down the steps of the platform and stood beside the young lieutenant, placing a kindly hand on Charlie’s arm and reaching down to grasp his hand.
“Are you saved, brother?” asked the young chaplain.
Charlie looked steadily into Lincoln Silverthorn’s eyes, with no reserves in his own glance.
“I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “I’d like to be. I’m going out in a few days on a commission where there is very little likelihood that I shall ever return to my own world. I’ve always believed in Christ and His dying for the world, but it never, somehow, seemed to have anything to do with me personally. Tonight you made me see Him. What do I have to do?”
The young chaplain smiled with a great light in his eyes.
“‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,’” he quoted, “but that means more than a mere intellectual belief. It means a real heart belief. It means accepting Him as your personal Savior. Accepting what He has done for you. Are you willing to do that?”
“I am,” said Charlie steadily.
“Then let’s tell Him so,” said Link, and the two slipped down on their knees beside the wooden bench, while Link prayed.
“Lord Jesus, here’s a seeking soul who wants You. He says he is glad to accept what You did for him, in taking his sin upon Your sinless self and suffering the penalty of death that was rightfully his. We’re asking You now to fulfill Your promise when You said, ‘He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.’ Take him now, dear Lord, and show him how to walk with Thee.”
“And now, brother, will you tell Him, too?”
Charlie was still for a moment, and then he spoke, his eyes closed, his head bent low and resting on his lifted hand.
“Lord, I believe. Forgive all the years of my indifference. Stay by me, and show me the way.”
Neither Charlie nor Silverthorn had noticed young Walter kneeling down beside them, his head reverently bowed, his eyes closed.
The gathered groups around the platform had drifted a little farther away, talking in low tones, mindful of the ones who were kneeling. As the two arose, Walter rose with them, stepping back shyly. It was only then that Silverthorn saw him and put out his hand to touch the lad.
“And how about you, buddy?” asked Link Silverthorn. “Don’t you want to be saved, too?”
“Yes sir,” said Walter, his eyes lighting up. “I am. I did it yesterday.”
Link’s eyes shone.
“Are you glad you did it?”
Walter flushed, and he lifted brightening eyes.
“Yes sir, I am. A lot, I am! It’s easier to go on now, sir.”
“That’s right, fella,” said Link, giving the boy a hearty grasp of his hand. “Are you two fellows—brothers?”
Walter shook his head.
“We’re from the same hometown,” offered Charlie, with a warm lovingness in his tone that made Walter’s face flush again and his eyes lighten.
“He’s the best quarterback in football you ever saw!” burst out Walter enthusiastically.
“Oh, so he’s your football hero, is he? Well, that’s great!
And now, I hope you’re both going to be the best Christians this army ever saw, and win souls for Christ wherever you go.”
“Okay!” said Walter. “That’s what we—that’s what I want, too.”
“Here, too,” said Charlie, smiling. “I guess it was his doing that I came here to
night, and I’m glad I came. I thank you, sir, for the help you’ve given me. I think I can go out now without worrying.”
“Oh, I’m glad to hear you say that. I certainly am, and I’m glad to have had a little hand in it. I’ll remember you fellas, and I’ll be praying. I’ll be praying that if it’s God’s will, He’ll bring you both safe home again, alive and sound and well.”
Then suddenly he motioned toward the big redhead who had sung.
“Here, Lute, I want you to meet these two fellows. They’ve just found Christ, and one of them’s going out on a hard assignment that doesn’t give much hope of returning. I want you to remember these fellows and pray for them, and when we pray together, remind me about them specially, will you, Lute?”
“That I will,” said the big man, with a wide genial smile. “Praise the Lord! He’s able to keep you true all the way through, fellows, and able to bring you back again, too, no matter how great the odds. But if instead He calls you Home, why, that will be all right, too, won’t it?”
Charlie gave a grave sweet assent to that, and Walter nodded with a seraphic smile. Walter knew what he was doing and was content. And for the first time since Charlie had left Blythe, a great peace came to dwell in his heart.
They walked along together, with a ring to their footsteps, and finally separated.
“Isn’t he swell?” said Walter at last, really thinking aloud.
“He certainly is,” said Charlie. “I’m glad you took me there! And I’m glad you belong, too. That makes us sort of buddies in a special sense, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does! Good night, I never thought I’d ever have anything as grand as this in my life, not in the army anyway. Having you come to Christ along with me! I didn’t think I’d ever be tied in any company as fine as you. And to have you find Him, too, at the same time. It’ll be something to remember always. Gee, but Mom’ll be glad when I write her about this. You don’t mind if I tell her about you, too, do you? She knows who you are. She’s always been glad to help me get away to one of your games, and she’ll be awful pleased that you’re a Christian.”
“Mind?” said Charlie. “Why, no, I’m glad! I only wish my mother were at home now and I could write to her about it. She’d be glad, too.”
And then they parted for the night with a heartier handclasp then even football would have brought about.
Chapter 10
The next three days were a time of great strengthening for Charlie Montgomery in many ways. The morning found him summoned to an audience with an instructor in the special mission that was to be his in the near future, and his heart swelled with the tremendous import of what each move he was to make would mean toward victory in the great task he had undertaken.
Yet he found that the thought of it did not appall him as it might have done, now that he had taken the Lord Jesus Christ for his Savior. When he had time to think of it all, it was as if he were going out hand in hand with God’s Son, they were yoke-fellows in this work to put down evil that had a grip on the world. God must want it stopped, and had put it into the hearts of men to go out and stop it, to put an end to the selfish ambitions of men who did not consider God, men who were out to destroy all good thoughts and motives and even to destroy the thought of God, if they could. Somehow as he thought of it, it seemed to him that God was going to use him for His own purposes, and he was solemnly glad. And glad, too, with a light heart, because his heart was right with God. Whatever came now, whether life through a hard way, or the death that seemed to be the inevitable outcome of this undertaking, he was safe, a child of God! Saved through His blood!
As the day waned and the time for the evening service drew on, Charlie’s work with the instructor finished for the day, and his thoughts went more and more to the decision he had made the night before, and he seemed to have a revelation of himself. Only a few hours ago he hadn’t thought of himself as a sinner at all, or as one who needed saving. His only concern about this matter had been somewhat in the nature of going through a form of preparation for a change from life to death, as one would get a passport for a journey, or a reservation on a train, or register in the army.
What was it that had made the difference in him? Could it be that it was that one evening’s glimpse of Christ, as the man Silverthorn had described Him, and that had made the change in his whole point of view? He had seen Jesus with the eyes of his spirit. He felt as if he knew Him now. Was it possible that that one short view of Christ had acted as a measuring rod to show him where he was lacking? Had that brief transaction, on his knees, when he handed himself over to the Christ and took Him for his personal Savior, shown him how mistaken he had always been when he thought of himself as having no sin?
Of course he had not been conceited about himself. He was sure of that, for his mother had dealt determinedly with every possible showing of conceit in his nature, but he had thought of himself as a pretty fairly good fellow. Oh, a few imperfections of course, as anyone might have, but nothing to be alarmed about.
And now, why! Thoughts, feelings, even attitudes of mind, began to crop out and take the form of sin when seen in the light of the eyes of God, and of His Son, Jesus Christ.
Why hadn’t he known all this before, with a mother like his to teach him? A mother who loved God and lived her life as in His Presence? And yet he had never taken more than the mere head knowledge of a few facts that he had accepted without thought! And that wasn’t the way he had taken any other subjects that he had been taught. The difference must be that now he had seen Jesus, and before he had merely heard about Him and swallowed the knowledge as a fact to which he need give but small concern.
There were two or three invitations to go places from other men—officers, and some men he had met before, old college mates, but he put them all aside and went to the meeting with Walter.
They sat up very near the front this time, and received welcoming glances from both Silverthorn and Waite, who was still there, and it seemed sometimes to Charlie as if parts of the service were arranged for his own help, though of course there must be others in the same situation as himself. But his soul was hungry for this knowledge of holy things that was being given out here, and he was drinking it in eagerly. And again the preacher brought the Christ in vision before them all, and Charlie seemed to look into His eyes and get a recognition from those wise and loving glances, so that he came away from that meeting with a sweet assurance in his heart that he was Christ’s and nothing could harm him; even death could not take him out of the continual presence of his Savior.
It was after Walter had left him for the night that it came to him to wonder if Blythe knew the Lord in this way?
Oh, she must be a Christian. He had seen her going to church several times. He knew which church her people attended. But did she know Jesus Christ as Savior? Had she ever felt her need of a Savior, or was she careless about it all, as he had been?
Quite early the next morning, before the day’s routine called him, he wakened and wrote a very brief letter to Blythe, telling her of his experience. There came to his heart a solemn anxiety for her. Would she understand what he meant when he tried to tell her, or would she be hurt and think he was discounting her fineness and belovedness? He found himself shyly asking God to help him write that letter so she would understand, and so that no thought of any censorship could detract from its meaning.
Two days later Charlie got his order to move on, and with a parting blessing from Link and Luther Waite, and attended to the train by Walter Blake, he took his way again into the unknown.
There was a few minutes’ delay at the train, and the sorrowful Walter tried to think of all the things his bursting heart would like to say.
“I—wish I—was going—with you,” he choked out, blinking back the unbidden tears. “You—kinda—seem like—home folks!”
Charlie gave him a pitying glance and owned that he felt that way, too.
“I’ll tell you, kid, you might get a furlough pretty soon. Do you suppos
e you might get home at all?”
“I can’t tell,” said the boy. “I might! Depends on where they’re sending me. If I go overseas pretty soon they might let me stop off home for a day or so.”
“Well, say, kid, if you do get home, and it doesn’t take too much time from your family, I wonder if you’d deliver a greeting for me to a friend of mine?”
Charlie was merely figuring to take the lad’s mind off their parting, and he reckoned rightly, for Walter’s face brightened.
“Sure. I’d be proud to. Who is it? Your family?”
“No, they’re all gone. It’s—a friend of mine. Did you ever hear of the Bonniwells?”
“Sure I did. I useta deliver papers there, and they always bought magazines from me.”
“Then you know where they live?”
“Oh, sure! Big stone house on Wolverton Drive. Got a daughter name Blythe. Useta go to our school when you and she were in high school. She the one?”
Charlie grinned.
“You’re right, kid. How’d you know?”
“Oh, I’ve seen her around. Saw her at a coupla your football games. Saw her watching you play.”
“Well, that’s something!” said Charlie, realizing that was something he and Blythe had not had time to talk about. Of course he had seen her there, but he had not been aware of her watching him. She hadn’t been one of his crowd, and he hadn’t even ventured a greeting to her at those games.
“Well, think you could give her a message? Here, I’ll write just a line. Of course, if you lose it before you get there, it won’t matter. You can read it and repeat it.”