JESUS TEACHING FROM A BOAT, Hofmann
XXI
THE THIRD MARK
The horror of darkness.
Have you ever stopped to think how terrible it would be if we had no Guide to show us the way of eternal life? Do you think you can imagine the bitter disappointment of those who have sought a guide and have failed to find it? We may now pass over lightly some of the more serious questions of life; we may even at times reject the teachings of our instructors as unnecessary. But there is a fixed fact which all the world has come to recognize—one that sooner or later confronts every individual. It is that the greatest thing in life after all is the knowledge of God and the satisfaction of having found the way of eternal life. The disappointment that follows the failure to find that way is expressed in words of beauty and childlike simplicity by an Indian. In 1832 a chief of the Flatheads, with some of his associates sought the wigwams of the white man in quest of the Way of life. This is what the chief of the Flatheads said when he turned to go back to his people:
The speech of an Indian chief.
"I came to you over a trail of many moons, from the setting sun. You were the friends of my fathers, who have all gone the long way, I came with an Indian an eye partly open for my people, who sit in darkness. I go back with both eyes closed. How can I go back blind to my blind people? I made my way to you, with strong arms, through my enemies, and strange lands, that I might carry back much to them. I go back with both arms broken and empty. Two fathers came with us. They were the braves of many winters and wars. We leave them asleep here by your great water and wigwams. They were tired with many moons (of journeying) and their moccasins were worn out (on the trail).
"My people sent me to get the 'White Man's Book of Heaven.' You took me to where you allow your women to dance as we do not ours, and the book was not there. You took me to where they worship the Great Spirit with candles, and the book was not there. You showed me images of the great spirits and pictures of the good land beyond, but the book was not among them to show us the way. I am going back the long, sad trail to my people, in the dark land. You make my feet heavy with gifts and my moccasins will grow old in carrying them, yet the book is not among them. When I tell my poor, blind people after one more snow, in the big council, that I did not bring the book, no word will be spoken by our old men, or by our young braves. One by one they will rise up and go out in silence. My people will die in darkness, and they will go a long path to other hunting grounds. No white man will go with them, and no White Man's Book to make the way plain. I have no more words."
It will be difficult to find in modern literature words more pathetic than these. Yet, how vividly and impressively they describe the condition that exists in the Christian world. The Indian came out of a land of darkness to seek Light, and finds only a world of darkness. He seeks a guide, a book that shall point the way to heaven; he finds grossness, and a worship of the flesh-pots of Egypt. He must of necessity enter alone upon the long journey to the happy hunting grounds. It will be his great adventure.