Captain Hedley Vicars, awaiting in November, 1851, in Canada the arrival of a brother-officer, sat in his room idly turning over the pages of his Bible. His eye alighted on the words, 'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin'. Closing the Book he said, `If this is true for me, henceforth I will live, by the grace of God, as a man who has been washed in the blood of Christ.' (1 Pet. 1. 17-20; 1 John 1. 7)
Queen Victoria, as was her wont, often visited the humble and the poor. On one orrasion she had been seeing a lonely cottager who was a happy believer in the Lord Jesus, and before leaving had enquired if she could do anything for her. 'I have all I want, thank your Majesty,' said the poor woman. 'But I should like to do something for you,' said the Queen. Again came the response, 'I have all I need, thank your Majesty, but if your Majesty would promise me one thing I would be very glad.' 'I shall do that if I can,' replied the Sovereign. 'Oh, your Majesty, if you would just promise to meet me in Heaven.' Softly and firmly came the Queen's reply, 'I shall do that in virtue of the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ.'—Selected
(I Pet. 1. 17-20; 1 John 1. 7)
Martin Luther once visited a dying student and asked the young man what he would take to God in Whose presence he must shortly appear. The young man replied, 'Everything that's good, sir.' Luther, surprised, said, 'How so, seeing you are but a poor sinner?' The youth replied, 'I shall take to God in Heaven a penitent, humble heart sprinkled with the blood of Christ.'
(I Pet. 1. 2; Rev. 7. 14)
A. Fallaize, for many years a missionary in North Africa, addressing a large audience at a missionary meeting, told of a lady missionary whose service in the Gospel led her to visit the tents of nomadic Arabs who passed, and camped near the town where she lived On one of her visits she came to a tent where a woman stood, engulfed in deep sorrow and anxiety. Entering, she saw lying on a mat on the floor an Arab lad, sick, emaciated and evidently dying of tuberculosis. She asked the mother, `May I tell him a story?' Receiving a nodded assent, she knelt down beside the lad and began to tell the story of the Lord Jesus and his sufferings and death for sinners. She described how he was beaten, crowned with thorns, led out of the city of Jerusalem, nailed to a cross and left to die, and explained simply how He there bore our sins and now lived in Heaven to forgive the sins of those who came to Him. The lad lay with closed eyes, but toward the end of her narration he opened them and appeared to take some interest in the story. She left, to return the next day, when she told the same story, emphasizing the fact that the blood of Jesus Christ was shed on the cross for the forgiveness of the lad's sins if he would only come to Jesus. This time the sick boy showed a greater interest and his face seemed to lighten up toward the end of her narration. Next day, thinking it might be well to introduce something new into her message, she began to tell of the birth of Christ and was describing the place where He was born when the sick lad raised his hand and said, 'Not that! Not that! Tell me about the cross and the blood and the forgiveness of my sins.' And again the same moving and marvellous story was told.
When the lady missionary returned again she found the woman still sad and weeping bitterly: but there was no lad on the mat inside her tent. She asked the mother how he had died. The mother, when she saw he was dying, had called the Mohammedan priest who came with his copy of the Koran and began to read aloud to the dying lad. Then she described how he had feebly raised his thin hand and said, 'Not that! Tell me about the cross: about the blood and the forgiveness of sins.'
(Lev. 17. 11; Eph. 1. 7; Heb. 9. 22)
During a cruel and bloody war, a commander took an oath in the presence of his troops that he would slaughter the entire population of a certain town, and in due course the bloodhounds of war were let loose on the defenceless people. Now it so happened that a fugitive, seeking for a shelter, saw a sight which was indirectly the means of saving both his own life and the lives of others. He spied a number of soldiers as they broke into a house, the inmates of which they put to the sword. On leaving it, they fastened up the place again, and one of them, dipping a cloth in a pool of blood, splashed it on the door, as a token to any who might follow of what had taken place inside.
Quick as his feet could carry him, the poor fugitive sped away to a large house in the centre of the town where a number of his friends were concealed, and breathlessly told them what he had seen. At once it flashed upon them how to act. A goat was in the yard. It was immediately killed, and its blood splashed on the door. Scarcely could they close the door again when a band of soldiers rushed into the street and began to slay right and left. But when they came to the blood-marked door they made no attempt to enter. The sword—so they thought—had already entered and performed its work in that house. Thus, while the many around were put to death, all inside the blood-sprinkled door were saved.
(Exod. 12. 13; 1 Cor. 5. 7)