MY JUDGMENT

MY JUDGMENT

            I was standing at the end of at the end a long, endless queue of people, waiting impatiently for my turn to enter that door that led to what seems to be an auditorium. When my turn to enter came, a huge auditorium, full of people came into view.

            Though it was full of people, I was surprised to notice the eerie silence. I could hear some whispers here and there, but generally, it was silent. Then, a man entered through a small side door on the left carrying what seems to be a long pole. He stood up and all eyes focused on the rather large door on the right side of the stage. He said, “Hear yea, hear yea. Everybody, on your feet, for our honourable judge,” as he tapped the floor three times with his pole.

            We all stood up, and all eyes focused on the rather large door on the right side of the stage. “That should be the judge,” I thought. He was rather tall and very impressive, elegant, and even magnificent. His presence could be felt in the four corners of that hall. We could only gape at Him. He walked to the judge’s seat. As he sat, he said in a relaxed powerful voice that pierced the heart and soul of everyone, “Let the prosecutor and the defender come in.”

            A third door at the back opened and in came to two opposing sides. First, the prosecutor, he was also big, smelled foul, and hissed as he walked to the front. He sat on the left side facing the judge, and turned his back and stared – at me. He smiled but all I could see was the most cruel pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. I tried to look elsewhere, evading his stare. I felt my heartbeats and my knees tremble.

            Then, the defender came. He walked quietly to his seat on the right side facing the judge. Before he sat down, I noticed his hands. Each had a hole in it. He also turned around and looked at me. It was the most compassionate pair of eyes I have ever seen.

            Three more taps on the floor and everyone sat and kept quiet. It was a nervous silence – eerie and nervous. The prosecutor, the accuser stood up and started talking. “You,” his finger pointed to me, “you are first.” Someone pushed me to the platform. I didn’t even see who it was.

            The prosecutor then started his litany of my sins. I was shocked at how detailed and precise he was at narrating them. Even the things I did in secret were now announced for everyone to hear. At the corner of my eyes I could see some people whispering and some others giggling. They were talking about me, my sins. Oh, if I could only melt away right then and there. If I could only disappear at will. Imagine my most embarrassing secrets being announced for everyone to hear. The prosecutor ended with a roar – an insulting sarcastic roar. “She belongs to hell! Sentence her to hell. No one deserves hell more than she does.” Then, he sat down.

            Again, there was a hush in the room I expected the judge to echo what the prosecutor said. “She does deserves to be in hell!”

            Then, the defendant stood up. “Your honor,” he started. “She is not guilty.” Everyone reacted. “Not guilty? How can that be? She’s guilty! Guilty, guilty!”

            I could only bow my head down in admission.

            The prosecutor stood up again. In an angry voice, he announced, “the sin of covetousness?” The defender said, “Not guilty.”

            “What about the sins of commission? When she did what she should not have done?” “Not guilty,” my defender said.

            “What about the sins omission? When she did not do what she ought to do?” “Not guilty.”

            “The sin of lying and cheating?” “Not guilty.”

            “The sin of hatred?” “Not guilty”

            “What?” the prosecutor screamed. And my defender stretched out his open hands and said, “Not guilty, Your Honor. Because of this,” and he showed everyone his nail-pierced hands. The Judge stood up and with a powerful compelling voice declared the verdict, “Not guilty.”

            It’s true. It is true. Those who are in Christ have been forgiven. We have been declared not guilty. Amen and amen!

A NIGHT IN THE HAUNTED HOUSE

        One terrifying Halloween night, a young man who was dared by his friends, approached an old, dilapidated, abandoned house at the end of a deserted cul de sac. His friends dared him to stay for one night in this house that everybody feared. Haunted stories about this house have been going around and this young man, known for his courage and bravery, accepted the dare, saying, “I will stay for one night in that house and nothing wrong can happen to me.”

        Reliable sources claimed that on nights, especially Halloween nights, when there was a full moon, they heard the sound of chains being pulled while blood curdling screams can be heard from the background. On other nights, an anguished moaning came from the windows, where, if one took a peek, the three dead former owners could be seen walking in their funeral attires, plotting their revenge against their killers.

        That Halloween night, the brave young man clutching his father’s shotgun, cringed as he walked to the haunted house. He looked up and saw that indeed the moon was full. When he reached the house, he swung his sleeping bag and canteen through a broken window, climbed through the tree, and entered the house. Lighted by the full moonlight that seeped through the holes in the roof and ceiling, he found his way to one of the bedrooms after he walked through cobwebs, trash, broken furniture, and torn curtains. He laid out his sleeping bag next to the fireplace in the very spot where the former owners supposedly gasped their last terrified breath.

        He heard so many sounds as he tried to close his eyes, lizards saying, “Tuk-cooo,” doors and windows opening and closing slowly, and making that eerie horrible sound. Even the rustling sound of the leaves on the trees around the house combine with the many nocturnal insects and birds to even heighten the uneasy feeling of freight and terror.

        The young man consoled himself by thinking, “They are just sounds. They will not hurt me.” And then, a thunderstorm came. And with it, the flash of lightning and sparks of light in the room. And these are now creating some forms of moving shadowy figures in the room. He looked around and saw “someone” floating towards him, his hands ready to strangle him. He closed his eyes tight, and waited for the cold hands to touch his neck but... nothing touched him.

        When he opened his eyes, there they were: two wide burning eyes were at his feet staring at h8im. As if someone left his head at his feet, facing him, and now, his eyes are focused at him. He thought, “Now, these are for real, there really is a monster in this house, and he is in this very room.” He looked again, and there they were. He closed his eyes and he looked again, and again, and again, hoping that the pair of eyes would disappear, but they just stayed there. They continued to stare at the terrified young man. Suddenly, he realized one thing. His father’s shotgun was beside him. He mustered all the courage he had, slid his right hand to the gun’s trigger and with his left hand propped himself up, and while sitting down, aimed at the pair of eyes. He shot and then screamed so loudly that the neighbours were awakened and thy all rushed to the haunted house.

        They all went to the house where the young man’s screams has not stopped. What they saw baffled them. He had shot his toes.

        When darkness is all around us, we cannot see clearly. We see things that are not even there. And we make the wrong decision and the wrong move.

        Jesus Christ warned that we should not walk in darkness. He even called Himself “The Light” that will make our ways visible, clear, and therefore, correct.

        As Christians, we should not walk in darkness. We have the light of the world in us and with us. We don’t need to see things that are not there. We don’t have to shoot our own toes.

REFLECTIONS FOR THE LORD’S SUPPER SUNDAY

            “Our Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed...”(1 Corinthians 11:23). Immediately, our wandering attention is caught and we are compelled to focus on the unfolding drama of an experience of a person that finds no rival anywhere else in terms of the intensity of its pain and on the other hand, the boundless good that it would bring to humanity.

            “Our Lord Jesus...”: such a powerful confirmation of the identity of Jesus. He is Lord. He is not just any other guy with the name Jesus (which was not exactly a rare name in those days). He is the Lord. He is not even to be classified with any other powerful man in the political or social scenery. He is the Lord Jesus.

            “Our Lord Jesus...”: such a powerful confirmation of our unusual spiritual privilege. He is not only the Lord Jesus. He is OUR Lord Jesus. He is not a stranger. To others, He may be the judge. To others, He may be an acquaintance. To many others, He may be just a name. To some other people, He may just be a person whose historicity is of doubtful certainty and whose claims in life are open to disbelieving questions. To us, He is OUR Lord. He is not only just any Lord. He is OURS. He is not only OURS, We are HIS.

            “Our Lord Jesus, on the night He was betrayed...”: such a silence – generating description of the reign of darkness. It was at night. It happened in the darkness of the night. It happened at a time usually devoted to finding rest for tired bodies and dried up spirits.

            “On the night He was betrayed...”: there would be no rest for the Saviour that night. There would be no soothing words for the entire duration of the agony-filled night. The day’s troublesome scenarios became troublesome realities that night.

            “On the night He was betrayed...”: It was all the more painful because a friend led it. Of course, only a friend can betray another. The harm inflicted by an arrogant enemy is called an assault. The harm inflicted by one knight to another in an even contest is called honourable defeat. Only the harm inflicted by a friend may properly be called a betrayal. “On the night He was betrayed...”

            It was even more painful that the betrayal took place at the time and place devoted to prayer. They were there to pray. They were there to seek the face of God. However, in the darkness of the night, it was the face of the betrayer that would appear and with a kiss that humanity would never forget, identified the Lord to those who came to arrest Him.

            “Our Lord Jesus, on the night He was betrayed, took bread, and when He had given thanks...” Such majestic attitude! Such a sublime demonstration of spirituality! Betrayed, and yet, He gave thanks! Betrayed, and yet He would not forget the giver – The Father in heaven. Betrayed, and yet He would not neglect the duties of relationship – He had to say thank you to the Father.

            “Our Lord Jesus, on the night He was betrayed, took bread, and when He had given thanks...” He took bread. He would give nothing less than His own life. He took bread. He would love by giving up His own life. He took bread. Nothing else would suffice. His finest gift was His own life. He gave all and He gave everything. He gave fully for you and for me.

Our Heritage From The Past To The Future

            We are here today, on a spring board, from where we can reach the highest possible level of Christian scholarship, consciousness, and development because they cleared the way! They, who have come before us, left their comfort zones, stretched their tent curtains, braved unknown paths, cleared the way through dense wilderness, working on historical relay to get us where we are now.

            They brought the heart and mind of our faith from its conception in the Garden, through its infancy in the Land of Ur, childhood in Canaan, adolescence in Egypt, youth, maturity, and even regression in the Promised Land, rebirth in Jerusalem, and Christian recreation in Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth. We are here today, holding in our hands the solid heritage of yesterday and the wonderful promise of tomorrow because they, the trailblazers, delivered and handed the faith to us!

            We are here today, throbbing with life, because Noah built that ark. We are here today, guided, enriched, empowered, because Abraham followed God’s call to Canaan; Joseph sheltered his family in Egypt; Moses led Israel through the desert; Joshua led God’s people into the Promised Land; David consolidated the nation and even showed us how, despite human frailty, one could be after supreme wisdom; Job defined and modelled the meaning of patience and endurance; John, the Baptist cleared the way for the Christ and set the high mark for principled spirituality; Peter recognized and identified Jesus as the Christ and, very helpfully, showed us how to rise from failure and shame; Paul understood, processed and articulated the lofty truths of God’s redemptive work and wrote great volumes for generations to learn and teach. Yes, we are here today because these and numberless other men and women received revelation, inspiration, and commission from God and, selflessly – even heroically – they not only served as faithful custodians but also as zealous messengers to their compatriots and to succeeding generations.

            Even when the writing of the Holy Scriptures already ceased in Revelation, the writing of the story and doctrine of Christ’s Church and the passing of the legacy, was continued by the martyrs, by the succession of thinkers and leaders who lived, redefined, and fine tuned the faith to changing times. From the dark corridors of history ring the voices of Calvin, Knox, Luther, and many more, joined by the drone of nameless Bible scribes and copiers, printers, and librarians, and other contributors to the preservation, multiplication, and distribution of the Holy Scriptures! Then, the work of missionaries, especially in the so-called Age of Voyage and Discovery, reached far flung islands and continents, eventually – us. Very recently, the work of Christian broadcasters literally fulfilled prophecy that the Word would be preached to all the nations! Indeed, through cutting edge broadcast and other communications technology there is at present, no square inch of the earth’s surface inaccessible to the proclamation of the Gospel!

            We are here today because they, the trailblazers, cleared the way! They received and passed on God’s heritage, message, and blessings to us through energetic toil and loving sacrifice! They marched into unknown lands, braved rejection and opposition and transcended personal limitations. They unquestioningly received what was given them, walked the walk of faith, becoming links in an unbroken chain of defenders, heroes, and promoters of the faith. Indeed, we are here now because they cleared the way – because they laid down their lives to be building blocks of The Way!

            Today, we stand at a spot where the paved way ends, confronted by a different kind of dense wilderness unimaginable to those who have gone before us: a jungle tangled with Space Travel, Laser and Digital technology, Satellites and Wireless Communication, Microbiology, Cloning, Climate Control, Atomic and Biological Warfare, Genetic Engineering, Star Wars, Social Breakdown, A New World Order, etc. These high tech monsters and other 21^st Century dragons pose a unique challenge to our faith and faithfulness! Will the road end on our present spot? Of course not! We have the legacy of unbroken links of heroes from the Patriarchs to the Prophets to the Apostles to the Martyrs to the Reformers to the Missionaries! In fact, our latest and freshest links to our glorious and ever-marching heritage are the people who brought us to the saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ like the fiery preacher at camp, that patient teacher at school, that anointed singer at the concert, and yes, that usher at church. While many things have, indeed, changed, many things have nonetheless remained the same. It’s still the classic battle between good and evil, the clash between the body and the spirit. The choice of only two destinies: Heaven or Hell! Thanks to our strong heritage, this generation is more than amply provided with knowledge, wisdom, and inspiration! By the power of our God who led our spiritual ancestors through the wilderness behind us, we can and we will keep clearing the way for our heritage to continue the jungle before us!

            Christian of today, remember the Christians of yesterday from whom you had the privilege to receive and think of the Christians of tomorrow to whom you have the duty to give. Run the Christian race of the 21^st century that only we, the children of the 21^st century, can and should fight. Join the unbroken link of heroes and heroines and receive the heritage of God, the beginning, middle, and end of our quest!

Daniel 6 : 10 - 23

Daniel 6: 10 - 23

¹⁰Now when Daniel knew that the writing was signed, he went into his house; and his windows being open in his chamber toward Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed, and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime.

 ¹¹Then these men assembled, and found Daniel praying and making supplication before his God.

 ¹²Then they came near, and spake before the king concerning the king's decree; Hast thou not signed a decree, that every man that shall ask a petition of any God or man within thirty days, save of thee, O king, shall be cast into the den of lions? The king answered and said, The thing is true, according to the law of the Medes and Persians, which altereth not.

 ¹³Then answered they and said before the king, That Daniel, which is of the children of the captivity of Judah, regardeth not thee, O king, nor the decree that thou hast signed, but maketh his petition three times a day.

 ¹⁴Then the king, when he heard these words, was sore displeased with himself, and set his heart on Daniel to deliver him: and he laboured till the going down of the sun to deliver him.

 ¹⁵Then these men assembled unto the king, and said unto the king, Know, O king, that the law of the Medes and Persians is, That no decree nor statute which the king establisheth may be changed.

 ¹⁶Then the king commanded, and they brought Daniel, and cast him into the den of lions. Now the king spake and said unto Daniel, Thy God whom thou servest continually, he will deliver thee.

 ¹⁷And a stone was brought, and laid upon the mouth of the den; and the king sealed it with his own signet, and with the signet of his lords; that the purpose might not be changed concerning Daniel.

 ¹⁸Then the king went to his palace, and passed the night fasting: neither were instruments of musick brought before him: and his sleep went from him.

 ¹⁹Then the king arose very early in the morning, and went in haste unto the den of lions.

 ²⁰And when he came to the den, he cried with a lamentable voice unto Daniel: and the king spake and said to Daniel, O Daniel, servant of the living God, is thy God, whom thou servest continually, able to deliver thee from the lions?

 ²¹Then said Daniel unto the king, O king, live for ever.

 ²²My God hath sent his angel, and hath shut the lions' mouths, that they have not hurt me: forasmuch as before him innocency was found in me; and also before thee, O king, have I done no hurt.

 ²³Then was the king exceedingly glad for him, and commanded that they should take Daniel up out of the den. So Daniel was taken up out of the den, and no manner of hurt was found upon him, because he believed in his God.

HEROES' FOOTPRINTS

Scene 1: The Communist President was found by his wife, the First Lady, brooding and alone in a room in the Presidential Palace.

Blessing: Ah, so there you are. Good evening, my husband, the President of this nation. I have been looking for you. Why are you here, in this solitary place? Have you been thinking about your brother again?

Aries:  I miss my brother so much. You know that he’s my one and only family. After my parents died, he was the only one who looked after me.

Blessing: But that is the past, Mr. President. We have not heard from him since several years ago. For all you know, he might have died in the war – he and his wife.

Aries: Don’t say that. I forbid you from saying that. He is not dead. He and his wife are alive. They are alive.

Blessing: Alright, alright. You are hurting me.

Aries: Forgive me. You know how attached I am to my brother. Please don’t talk that way about him. He and his wife took care of me until the time I joined the army.

James: Your Highness, I have to report to you something about the rebels who have been hiding in the mountains.

Blessing: Those rebels again? They are such pains in our necks! Why don’t you just order that they all be killed? Get rid of all of them.

James: I agree, Your Highness.

 Aries: I cannot do that.

Blessing: Why?

Aries: Because every man has the right to trial – to be tried and heard. They should be given the chance to defend themselves.

Blessing: But the law does not apply to the lawless. They are rebels.

James: And they have been giving us so much problems.

Aries: That’s why they are rebelling. They have been unjustly treated – were not given the right trial – to defend themselves. If I don’t treat them justly, the rebels will continue to grow in number.

Blessing: Don’t be paranoid, my husband. Your army is the largest and most powerful in this side of the earth. You are unbeatable!

James: It is true, Your Highness. The other armies are afraid of us.

Aries: That’s easy for you to say. If we continue to oppress and maltreat people, the people will take their side... and who can oppose the citizens? No army is greater than its own citizenry?

Blessing: My husband, you think too much. Don’t worry. Our nation is on our side.

Aries: I really hope so.

James: Hmmm....

Aries: Speak up, Gen. Catipay.

James: Your highness, our soldiers have arrested a handful of rebels. We wish to present these prisoners to you. We will learn so much from them.

Aries:  You do what you need to do, but don’t kill them. Find out their hideout. Get names. Who are their leaders – who provides for their weapons and food?

James: Yes, sir! We will do that.

Aries: I want to face the leader. Only the leader.

James: Yes, Mr. President.

Scene 2: The leaders of the rebels are presented to the President.

James: Greetings, Mr. President, First Lady.

Blessing: Ah, my loyal General, come! Tell my husband here that he has the power of life and death in his hands. He can have anyone killed anytime he wishes. He can order all those rebel annihilated if he so wishes. Right?

James: You are absolutely right, Madam First Lady.

Blessing: Ha ha ha ha ha... see?

Aries: So, what brings you here, my General?

James: Mr. President, I have with me now the leader of the rebels who are giving us problems, and his wife.

Aries: Ah, very good. Bring them in.

James: (exits and comes back with Tana and Chris) (pushes them down on the floor) Bow low to your god.

Chris: He will never be our god. There is only one God in heaven and on earth, the Lord God of Israel.

Tana: He is just a human leader. He can never be God. You make him powerful, but God’s power comes from Himself.

Aries: (looks at the rebel with shock) Chris, Tana? My brother. (runs to Chris and embraces him) How are you, my brother... my sister-in-law? I have been wondering where you are.

Chris: Mr. President, my brother, we have been fighting your soldiers who have been abusing our people – thru heavy taxes and land grabbing.

Aries: I miss you so. Prepare the banquet table. We shall have a feast. You and I will eat together. My wife, this is the brother I have been talking about. See? We look alike. And this is his wife, Tana.

Blessing: My husband, no, you do not look alike. He is poor and dirty.

Aries: (lifts up the face of his brother and notices his blood, soaked faces) What have they done to you? Who did this to you?

James: Mr. President...

Aries: Who did this to you? Tell me.

James: Mr. President, we had to interrogate them, and they would not talk.

Aries: What?

James:  He is the leader of the rebels, and she is his wife.

Aries: What? That can’t be true. Tell them it’s not true. Just tell them it’s not true and I will have you released right now.

Chris: It is true, Mr. President, we are rebels. We are your enemies. We led the rebellion because we could not stomach your soldiers’ abuses.

Tana: The two of you are brothers, but my husband is so unlike you. You are a tyrant who kills our people for your pleasure. You convict them without trials for crimes they did not commit.

Aries:  No, that’s not true. I don’t kill people for no reason. Chris, my brother, you know that. Our parents taught us justice. And you, you can’t be the leader of something that opposes me. You are not the rebels’ leaders. Right?

Chris: It is true, my bother. We are the leaders of the rebels.

Aries: Huh?

Chris: I’m the leader of the rebels. I am a Christian. I believe in Jesus Christ. I cannot bow down to you, the tyrant of the people.

Aries: Stop it. Stop it. How can you believe in something that represents everything that’s against me. You are my brother. You should believe me. I am the god – here.

Chris: Yes, you are my brother, but you are not God. You can’t be God.

Aries: Come here, Chris...Tana. You do not understand. I have the power to release you. Stop talking. Don’t oppose me in front of them. Just pretend to believe them. Then, I will have your released. And if you promise never to rebel against the authorities, no one will go after you anymore.

Chris: But we cannot pretend, Aries. We believe in what we are fighting for.

Tana: Yes, we will continue to fight you if you release us. You have committed many crimes against the people and now you killed the poor ones who rebelled. We will oppose you and your rule.

Aries: But I must have you killed, then.

Chris: That’s the only way to stop us.

Aries: Chris, Tana, do you understand what you are talking about?

Chris and Tana: Yes, we understand.

Aries: Your blood is in my hand. I cannot order you to be killed. How can I do that? You are my brother.

Chris: If this is my destiny, I can’t go against it.

Aries: We can change our destiny, Chris. Just renounce Jesus. Pretend that you believe in me and be free.

Tana: We would rather die.

Aries: No, no. I can’t have you killed.

Chris: Then come to us and renounce communism.

Aries: What? I can’t do that.

Chris: Then, do what you must.

James: I am waiting, my Lord.

Aries: My brother, for the last time, I am begging you. Renounce Jesus, the Christ. Tana, ask him to obey me.

Tana:  I can’t and I won’t. (cries while shaking her head)

Aries: Then, die a most cruel death. (crying loudly)

Chris: So, be it. Our legacy will be heard by many, who will also be willing to die for Jesus – until Jesus is preached throughout the world.

Tana: Dying for Jesus? It’s an honor. (James grabs them both and pulls them away)

Aries: (wails loud) My brother!!!!

JONAH AND THE WHALE

JONAH AND THE WHALE

Anonymous

Listen, my friends, I’ll tell you a tale

How Jonah the prophet got caught by a whale.

That fish caught Jonah, and bless your dear soul

It not only caught him, but swallowed him whole.

Now part of my story is awfully sad –

‘Twas about a great city that had gone to the bad.

When God saw these people with such wicked ways

He said, “I can’t stand them more than forty more days.”

So He spoke to old Jonah and said, “You go cry

Against all those people, and tell them that I

Give them forty days only to get settled down –

And if they don’t heed you I’ll tear up the town.”

When Jonah heard God speak, he answered Him “No,

It’s against my religion, and I just won’t go;

Those Nineveh people mean nothing to me –

And besides, I’m against foreign missions, you see.”

So he went down to Joppa.  In that city he found

A ship bound for Tarsus, paid the fare and went down;

Found a comfortable spot there and fell fast asleep.

But soon came a storm raging on the great deep.

Then Jonah confessed it was due to his sin.

So the crew tossed him out, and the fish took him in.

Said the fish, “See here, Jonah, now don’t you forget,

I was sent here to bring you in out of the wet.”

On a bed of green sea weeds the fish tried to rest,

But Jonah was tough and just would not digest.

That fish became nervous and sorely afraid,

As he rumbled inside while the old prophet prayed.

He blinked his big eyelids and wiggled his tail,

And made for the shore to deliver his male.

Then coming near to shore he looked all around,

And coughed up old Jonah right out on the ground.

Jonah first thanked the Lord for His mercy and grace,

Then turned and looked that fish square in the face.

“Old fellow,” he said, “after three days you’ve found

When you tackle a good man, he’s hard to keep down.”

Jonah thought how much better his preaching would be

Since from Whale Seminary he had his degree.

Although the old prophet was several days late,

He preached from the time that he entered the gate;

‘Til the whole population repented and prayed

And the stern hand of justice and vengeance was stayed.

Now this is the lesson: God’s Word cannot fail.

When you think of backsliding – look out for the whale.

PAUL REVERE'S RIDE

PAUL REVERE’S RIDE

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town tonight,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light --
One if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street,
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,

And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the somber rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wing, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns!

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled--
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will awaken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

An Excerpt from DUTY-HONOR-COUNTRY by General Douglas MacArthur

An Excerpt from

DUTY – HONOR – COUNTRY

General Douglas MacArthur

            Duty – Honor – Country. Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you ought to be, what you can be, what you will be. They are rallying points; to build a courage when courage seems to fail; to regain faith when there seems to be little cause for faith; to create hope when hope seems forlorn. Unhappily, I possess neither that eloquence of diction, that poetry of imagination, nor that brilliance of metaphor to tell you all that they mean. The unbelievers will say they are but words, but a slogan, but a flamboyant phrase. Every pedant, every demagogue, every cynic, every hypocrite, every troublemaker, and, I am sorry to say, some others of an entirely different character, will try to downgrade them even to the extent of mockery and ridicule.

            But these are some of the things they do. They build your basic character: they mold you for your future roles as custodians of the nation’s defense; they make you strong enough to know when you are weak, and brave enough to face yourself when you are afraid. They teach you to be proud and unbending in honest failure, but humble and gentle in success, not to substitute words for actions, not to seek the path of comfort, but to face the stress and spur of difficulty and challenge; to learn to stand up in the storm but to have compassion on those who fail; to master yourself before you seek to master others; to have a heart that is clean, a goal that is high; to learn to laugh yet never forget how to weep; to reach into the future yet never neglect the past; to be serious yet never to take yourself; to be modest so that you will remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength. They give you a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a freshness of the deep springs of life, a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, an appetite for adventure over love of ease. They create in your heart the sense of wonder, the unfailing hope of what next, and the joy and inspiration of life. They teach you in this way to be an officer and a gentleman.

            And what sort of soldiers are those you are to lead? Are they reliable, are they brave, are they capable of victory? Their story is known to all of you; it is the story of the American man-at-arms. My estimate of him was formed on the battlefield many years ago, and has never changed. I regarded him then as I regard him now – as one of the world’s noblest figures, not only as one of the finest military characters, but also as one of the most stainless. His name and famer are the birthright of every American citizen. In his youth and strength, his love and loyalty, he gave all that mortality can give. He needs no eulogy from me or from any other man. He has written his own history and written it in red on his enemy’s breast. But when I think of his patience under adversity, of his courage under fire, and of his modesty in victory, I am filled with an emotion of admiration I cannot put into words. He belongs to history as furnishing one of the greatest examples of successful patriotism; he belongs to posterity as the instructor of future generations in the principles of liberty and freedom; he belongs to the present, to us, by his virtues and by his achievements. In twenty campaigns, on a hundred battlefields, around a thousand campfires, I have witnessed that enduring fortitude, that patriotic self-abnegation, and that invincible determination which have carved his status in the hearts of his people. From one end of the world to the other he has drained deep the chalice of courage.

            As I listened to those songs of the glee club, in memory’s eye I could see those staggering columns of the First World War, bending under soggy packs, on many a weary march from dripping dusk to drizzling dawn, slogging ankle deep through the mire of shell-shocked roads, to form grimly for the attack, blue-lipped, covered with sludge and mud, chilled by the wind and rain, driving home to their objective, and, for many, to the judgment seat of God. I do not know the dignity of their birth but I do know the glory of their death. They died unquestioning, uncomplaining, with faith in their hearts, and on their lips the hope that we would go on to victory. Always for them – Duty – Honor – Country; always their blood and sweat and tears as we sought the way and the light and the truth.

            And twenty years after, on the other side of the globe, again the filth of murky foxholes, the stench of ghostly trenches, the slime of dripping dugout; those broiling suns of relentless heat, those torrential rains of devastating storm, the loneliness and utter desolation off jungle trails, the bitterness of long separation from those they loved and cherished, the deadly pestilence of tropical disease, the horror of stricken areas of war; their resolute and determined defense; their swift and sure attack, their indomitable purpose, their complete and decisive victory – always victory – always through the bloody haze of their last reverberating shot, the vision of gaunt, ghastly men reverently following your password of Duty – Honor – Country.

            The code which those words perpetrate embraces the highest moral laws and will stand the test of any ethics or philosophies ever promulgated for the uplift of mankind. Its requirements are for the things that are right, and its restraints are from the things that are wrong. The soldier, above all other men, is required to practice the greatest act of religious training – sacrifice. In battle and in the face of danger and death, he discloses those divine attributes which his Maker gave when He created man in His own image. No physical courage and no brute instinct can take the place of the Divine help which alone can sustain him. However horrible the incidents of war may be, the soldier who is called upon to offer and to give his life for his country is the noblest development of mankind.

            And through all this welter of change and development, your mission remains fixed, determined, inviolable – it is win our wars. Everything else in your professional career is but a corollary to this vital dedication. All other public purposes, all other public projects, all other public needs, great or small, will find others for their accomplishment; but you are the ones who are trained to fight; yours is the profession of arms – the will to win, the sure knowledge that in war there is no substitute for victory; that if you lose, the nation will be destroyed; that the very obsession of your public service must be Duty – Honor – Country.

            You are the leaven which binds together the entire fabric of our nation’s system of defense. From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation’s destiny in their hands the moment the war tocsin sounds. The Long Gray Line has never failed us. Were you to do so, a million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words – Duty – Honor - Country. But in the evening of my memory, always I come back to West Point. Always there echoes and re-echoes in my ears – Duty – Honor – Country.

            Today marks my final roll call with you. But I want you to know that when I cross the river my last conscious thoughts will be of the Corps – and the Corps – and the Corps.

            I bid you farewell.