Not that the sermon of the morning had given her any doubts. It could not have done that even if it had been strong in arguments and logic, and not weak, garbled statements of half-facts she had known all her life, for Joyce was a Christian, rooted and grounded in the Word, and had lived too many years in a sweet communion with her Saviour to have been shaken even a little in her sweet faith. No, it had made her angry, tremblingly, impotently angry. She felt as if she could not stand it that words like those should have been preached in a Christian pulpit under the name of an orthodox faith, and no one put in a protest. She longed to be a man that she might do something about it, a prophet that she might cry out; a wise leader that she might come to the people and tell them how the curse of God would be upon them if they listened to words like those—how their souls would be lost—!
She sat down on her wooden box in her small home, going over it all with sorrowing heart. She did not even take off her hat, so absorbed and excited she was. She went over the Bible verses that she knew that proved the minister had been wrong, verses that she had learned when a child, and her heart began to swell with triumph over the wonder and the joy of the salvation that was hers.
“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.”
“For by the works of the law shall no flesh be justified.”
“For by grace are ye saved, through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works, lest any man should boast.”
“Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.”
How her heart thrilled with the words as she said them over, and how she rejoiced that she had been taught in the Word. Sunday after Sunday during her little girlhood it had been the regular afternoon employment for her and Aunt Mary to learn a chapter in the Bible, or a group of verses that Aunt Mary had selected during the week on some special topic. Sometimes she had done the selecting herself and had taken such joy in finding out a group of verses on a certain topic. Now they came flocking from her fine memory like a troop of strong angels sent to protect her.
“Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy he saved us, by the washing of regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost; which he shed on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour.”
How she wished she had her Bible that she might spend the afternoon hunting out other verses! What else was there about the blood? Ah!
“Without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sins!”