The Simplicity of the Gospel: Speaking to Students

There are different ways of speaking to students. I could begin by saying the ontological argument for the existence of deity has now been relegated to the limbo of obscurity, and some of us might take it in, others might not. I would rather speak tonight on the simplicity of the gospel, because deep truth, profound truth, is always simple. Sometimes it's too simple; sometimes people want to complicate it, they feel they're almost insulted by simplicity.

I've spoken to students in the neighborhood of Los Angeles for a number of years now, and I'll probably say some things tonight some of you have heard me say in some connection before, but maybe not with a particular sequence. If you're a Christian, I suppose you know that consensus, that concentrate of our creed, which we call the Apostles' Creed: I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord. You know it all the way through. But you will find there the simple facts, and I'd like to illustrate them from personal encounters with pilots in the Pacific, and taxi drivers in Bombay. Simple illustrations. I don't expect you to remember all these illustrations, but perhaps the truths that they illustrate will stick in your mind.

When I was in Brazil, our meetings normally began at seven o'clock in the evening and closed about midnight. We made a special regulation that none of our meetings would go on beyond midnight, because the people had to get up early to go to the six o'clock morning prayer meeting. So of course I had to preach quite a lengthy time, from probably about half past seven until about three minutes to twelve. So I bought myself this little wristwatch. It's a Jaeger-LeCoultre, this wristwatch from Switzerland. It has a seconds hand, a minute hand, an hour hand, and an alarm. If you listen carefully, perhaps you'll hear the alarm, because it's a simple little device. I'll put it on the rostrum for a sounding board, and let you hear it for yourselves. I use this to get up in the morning. I also use it occasionally when I preach, but my wife says that somebody else ought to set it.

I was showing this watch in a meeting in a Presbyterian church not so long ago, when a man came up to me and said, I'm a member of the church session. How much do those watches cost? I told him. He says, we're going to buy one for our minister for Christmas. If I told you fellows and girls this watch was neither designed nor made, you'd laugh in my face. If I turned around and said, well who made it? You wouldn't have known the name of the maker if I hadn't told you, Jaeger-LeCoultre. And although there are quite a number of people on university campuses who believe that the world began by chance, to me it doesn't make much sense. The Christian alternative is more reasonable, that we owe the design of our universe to the planning of a superior intelligence, the supreme being, the first great cause whom we call God.

You say, well I've met people who talk about chance as if the world began by chance. I encountered a pilot once like that, and he said, well why do you have to have a faith or a philosophy? Chance could explain everything. I took out a half dollar and tossed it for him. I asked him if it was heads or tails. He said, heads. I said, what's the chance of getting heads? He said, one out of two. I said, why one out of two? I had a reason for asking. I once mentioned this in Johannesburg, and a lady raised her hand in a meeting and said, one out of seven. That intrigued me. I said, why one out of seven? She said, that's the way I find it. And I couldn't shake her conviction. She must have tossed quite a bit to get one out of seven. But the reason we say one out of two is that there are only two sides to a coin, therefore you're bound to get heads or tails. It's bound to be one or the other.

I take it most of you know something of the mathematical laws of probability. Recently some folks won a prize in the Irish hospital sweepstakes. Humans can tell you the exact probability or chance they had of winning that prize by the number of people who bought tickets, the number of those who shared in tickets, the number of horses that ran, and so forth. When you roll dice, the chance of getting six is one out of six. The chance of getting two sixes in succession is one out of thirty-six. The chance of getting three sixes in succession is one out of two hundred and sixteen, and the chance of getting four sixes in succession is one out of one thousand two hundred and ninety-six. I said to my friend, the pilot, what do you think is the chance of getting twelve sixes in succession? He said, I'll let you tell me. I said, one out of two billion one hundred and seventy-six million seven hundred and eighty-two thousand three hundred and thirty-six. Is that right? Then I said to him, what's the chance of getting dice to roll the same way all the time? He said, that's fantastic. I said, yet you talk about the chance of bringing this universe into being.

The great French philosopher, Le Comte du Nouy, has estimated that the chance of producing a protein molecule at the rate of a hundred chances per second would take, in years, the figure one followed by three hundred and fifty-two zeros. And most scientists have agreed the Earth isn't as old as that. Well then, if you say that the most reasonable thing is to assume that the design of our universe is due to the influence of a supreme intelligence, then what are we going to say?

I was in New Guinea at a place called Sansapor in the extreme western tip. It was cannibal country. Real live cannibals all around us. They didn't eat any of our American boys. We were paying them for working for us. Gave them an assured meat supply. I suppose they'd rather have spam than Americans anyway. Not quite as tough. And they were quite content to work for us.

We moved out of Sansapor on our way to Morotai, Dutch East Indies. We left behind a jeep, a Papuan native who had never seen a jeep in his life before, came down the mountains followed by his wife. They'd never seen such a thing. So the wife said, what is it? He said, I don't know. What do you call it? I don't know. Where did it come from? I don't know. What does it do? I don't know. He didn't know anything about it. He'd never even seen a wheelbarrow, let alone a jeep. But one thing he recognized was the seat, so he sat on it. He blew the horn, pulled the brakes on, put them off again, changed gear. But he didn't know what it was all about.

He happened to touch the self-starter button. It rocked him because he'd been left in gear. Didn't make much sense, so he went on his explorations. He opened the glove compartment, closed it again. He looked under the seat. He moved one seat back and pulled it forward again. He touched the self-starter button again. Again it rocked him. But the third time he tried it, he happened to have his foot heavily on the clutch pedal. So you know what happened. The engine started running up front. Again that was entirely novel in his experience. It sounded like a great cat purring. He thought he'd better get out and run around the front and see what was making the noise. When he did that, it stalled.

He got back in again. It took him a little time to start it again, but when he did, he had enough sense to realize that this thing on which his foot was resting had something to do with it stopping. So he decided to take his foot off the clutch pedal slowly enough to give him time to run around the front and see what was making the noise. And when he did that, the whole jeep began to move forward with him, which really scared him. He ran away and didn't come back for 20 minutes. But when he did get up enough courage to come back, he had learned to drive. His wife said, what is it? I don't know what to call it. What does it do? He said, it goes by itself. That would be a pretty fair translation of the word automobile. It goes by itself. She said, where did it come from? He said, I don't know, but whoever made this must be a lot more intelligent than I am.

And as we look at this amazing universe, we'd have to say, whoever made this must be a lot more intelligent than anyone at UCLA. In fact, than the whole of UCLA put together. In fact, than all the atomic scientists in Russia and the United States and the rest of the world put together. And we call him God. So we begin by saying, I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. We can have different views as to how he made the world or how long it took him to make the world. But we believe in a supreme being. I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth. But I believe in Jesus Christ, his only son, our Lord.

I was once talking to our medical officer on the island of Morotai. He'd been a noted obstetrician in Philadelphia, but of course he wasn't practicing in the Air Force. And he and I shared a tent together.

During the air raids, we kept our minds off the danger by arguing about politics, social philosophy, and anything at all. Inevitably, it got around to religion. "Look, chaplain," he said, "God is nothing more than an idea in people's minds." I said, "You mean destroy the human race and there'd be no God?" He said, "That's what I mean. God's an idea in people's minds. You go to the savage South Sea Islanders over in the Solomon Islands. They hear the thunder and they say that's God. We know better. They use God to cover their ignorance."

"But," he said, "go to India and you'll meet a higher type of peasant there. He doesn't call thunder divine, but when the epidemic breaks out, he rushes to the temple to burn incense. He says, the gods are angry. Talk to an Australian. He knows better. He says, God is the first great cause, the supreme being. But can't you see what I'm getting at? The further we push back the frontiers of knowledge, the less our need of God."

I said, "There's just one thing wrong with your idea. I'll give you an analogy. You ask a South Sea savage from the Solomon Islands, have you ever heard of King George?" He said, "Me British subject, me belong King George." "Have you ever seen King George?" "No, him very far away." "Then how do you know there's such a person?" "Me belong King George, you American soldier." "Yes, but how do you know they're not just fooling you?" "Me British subject, you American soldier, me belong King George." You can't shake him. He has chosen to believe in King George.

So then you have a right to say to him, "What do you think King George is like?" Can you blame him if he answers in his own experience? In the Solomon Islands, the chief of a village has four wives. The chief of an island has 400 wives. So he says, "King George, very big chief, 4,000 wives." That would be a rather primitive idea of constitutional monarchy. You go to India, you come across an Indian peasant there. He knows that King George doesn't have 4,000 wives, but he thinks in his terms. He knows of the local Raja, and he knows there's a Maha Raja, a great Raja in the next state, and he knows of the Mughal emperors of India, and he knows that the British kings took their place, so he says, "King George, imperial Raja, very big Raja." That's his idea.

Then you talk to an Australian, and he says, "You Yanks don't understand. King George doesn't tell us what to do. He's only a symbol, like your flag. He reigns, he doesn't rule." But you talk to someone in London, he said, "I went to Cambridge with King George when he was Duke of York." You talk to Princess Elizabeth, she says, "He's my daddy." You talk to an American, he says, "Well, it's all right for the limeys to have a king, we have no objection. Matter of fact, we rather like and respect the British royal family. But we wouldn't have a monarchy in America. We got rid of George III, we don't want any other Georges." Then you talk to a Russian, and he's quite snappy about it. He says, "He's a cat's paw of the capitalist system, and we shall destroy him."

I said, "There are seven different ideas of King George, but the point is this: if there is such a person, what people believe about him doesn't change his character. And if there is a God, what people believe about him doesn't change his character." And the medical officer said, "Well, you got something there. Then how could anyone know anything about God?" I said, "He has been revealed to us by Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ was not an ordinary man. He said, 'Before Abraham existed, I continue to be.' He claimed some extraordinary things. He didn't say, 'I will show you the way.' He said, 'I am the way.' He didn't say, 'I'll explain you the truth.' He said, 'I am the truth.' He didn't say, 'I will give you the key to life.' He said, 'I am the life.' He said, 'I am the alpha to the omega, the A to Z.' He said to Philip, 'He that has seen me hath seen the Father.' He was God made manifest in the flesh."

My little boy David came home from Sunday school talking about God. He was just five years of age at the time. He said, "God did this and God said that and God did the other thing." I thought, what does a child of five know? I've been taught that God was omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, transcendent, imminent. So I said, "David, what do you think God is like?" He said, "That's easy, Daddy." "Easy?" "Yes," he said, "God is just like Jesus." I couldn't say anything more profound than that. He was a living photograph of God. God made manifest in the flesh.

My wife is a South African girl. To most Americans, Africa is sort of a big place, way out that way, beyond Florida, full of black people. It really amuses me to go to churches and see the role of honor of missionaries. It says Mary Jones, Cuba, and Peter McGregor, Argentina, and then you'll find five or six, Africa. There are 35 countries in Africa. I think there are closer to 40 now in some of these new republics. It's a huge continent. However, when I tell people that my wife is an African, they look at me rather queerly for a moment. I explain that she's a blonde African. There are blonde Africans in the extreme South. But people still can't picture her. All I need to do is take out my wallet and show you her photograph.

How can any one of us picture Almighty God? But he was revealed to us, as much as he could be revealed, in a human personality, Jesus Christ. So I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, the Lord. You say, well now, aren't we all sons of God? Don't you mean that he was God in a little greater degree than the rest of us, or perhaps was aware of it more than others? No, there's a difference there. It's true that by creation we're all children of God.

I like to give this illustration. If I took a block of granite and a chisel and a mallet, and I began to hammer out, cut out a statue of a little boy, supposing it turned out to be lifelike, they might put it in some museum or art gallery and say that's the work of Edwin Orr. And people say that's lifelike. But that's quite a different work to my children. My daughter, fortunately for herself, favors my wife, but the two boys are like me. And as soon as people lay eyes on them, they say, well, we know who your father is. As soon as they say David or Alan, although they're both slightly different from each other, they both resemble me to a certain extent. The difference between that block of granite and my son Alan is that he is of flesh and blood and bone and brain as I am. The other is the work of my hands. We are the work of God's hands, but Jesus Christ was the only begotten Son of God. God is eternal, he is eternal. God is omnipotent, he is omnipotent. God is omnipresent, he is omnipresent by his Spirit. And so we believe that he was God revealed to man.

Now we've dealt with two facts. I believe in God, I believe in Jesus Christ. The Creed specifies who he was. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived of the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried. He descended into Hades. The third day he rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and sits on the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. It describes him specifically in case people were to talk about him vaguely.

I was talking to a lady in San Diego. I forget whether she belonged to Unity or Religious Science or Christian Science or some other such organization, but she assured me cheerfully, "I believe in Christ." I said, "I'm glad to know that. Have you accepted Christ as your Savior?" She said, "You don't understand me. I believe that Christ was the idea and Jesus was the man." I said, "I beg your pardon?" She repeated it. "I believe that Christ was the idea and Jesus was the man and he realized the idea." But that's not the Jesus Christ of the Creed. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord who was conceived of the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, and it describes his life and death. Not that he was an idea.

My wife, as I told you, is South African and I suppose I know South Africa as well as I know California. My wife and children and I spent a happy vacation in the Sabi River country where our game are protected. Drive along the roads, meet with lions and elephants and giraffes on the highway. It's a traffic offense to get out of the car. If you survive, you're fined ten pounds. If you don't survive, they don't prosecute. I've heard the lions roar as they made the kill. It's a cruel business. Those big cats that look so pretty, stalk helpless creatures, antelope like Impala, beautiful antelope, at night, they ambush them. They don't begin to roar until they make the kill. Then they roar to collect the other members of the pride to share the meat. That's their nature.

They're beasts of prey, but they maintain the balance of nature. Where our white hunters have killed too many lions, antelope have increased so fast that it caused a destruction of vegetation and soil erosion. There's a whole balance of nature involved. If it weren't for our pussy cats, perhaps we would be overrun with mice and rats. If you overfeed your cat, he won't eat the little animals which he's supposed to prey on. But that's what God intended them to be, beasts of prey. A pig is a scavenger. But I don't think that God Almighty intended us to lie and to lust and to kill and to steal.

There's something wrong with human nature. We are the only living creatures who have a sense of sin, of falling short. The other animals obey their instincts. We can go contrary to instinct. But we often defy what we know to be the best, which is the law of God. That's what the scripture teaches, that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. All have sinned. Not as an exception. Every last one. I've traveled throughout the world. I've met people by the hundred thousand. I have never yet met a man that denied that he was a sinner. I met one who told me that sin was an illusion, but he admitted that he suffered from the illusion. So we're all sinners. And we come up against that fact of sin. We are sinners. And sin brings its own punishment.

The scripture says the wages of sin is death. We are so familiar with scripture, some of us, that we forget what it means. The word wages, it's a singular, means what we earn and deserve. The wages of sin is death. We earn it. Mrs. Elmer Roosevelt wrote to us when we were at Westover Field about a man who was serving his third term in the guardhouse. Apparently, he had worked on a farm next to Hyde Park. He seemed to be quite a decent fellow. And Mrs. Roosevelt was rather worried about him, why he was always in jail. And she wanted the chaplain to look into it.

I found that he had been sentenced to three weeks in the guardhouse, then three months, then six months, and now he was serving the third maximum sentence. I found out she was quite right. He was a well-behaved boy without any vices. He was obedient to the commands of his officers. He was a dandy shot. He dressed well. He obeyed military discipline, except for one little weakness. Every time they gave him a weekend pass, he never came back. And the military police collected him in due course and brought him back, and he was charged with being absent without leave and finally with desertion. He was discharged under Section 8. The military won't stand for that sort of thing. You couldn't say that they're brutal. You cannot run an army apart from obedience. You can't run a school apart from discipline. You can't run a family apart from discipline. You can't have good health apart from the laws of health. You can't ignore gravity. You can climb the Los Angeles City Hall and jump off the top and say, what do I care about gravity? The Los Angeles City Hall won't be hurt. You'll be hurt.

When I say the wages of sin is death, it is not that God is a kind of super policeman going around eager to give out tickets. No, no. But rather that sin brings its own punishment, and the wages of sin is death. And death has been passed upon all men because all have sinned. So now we've talked about the human race. We know that we're sinners. We know that sin brings a punishment. Some people resent it greatly. A man said to me, I don't see why God shouldn't give eternal life to everyone. I said, look, now supposing I say to my son Alan, you're going to study to be an engineer. I'm going to give you $2,000 to help you get going, but I expect you to get a job and help yourself through school, but I'll set aside $2,000. And I say to my son David, you're going to study to be a minister, so I'll set aside $2,000 for you. And somebody called Joe Blow comes in off the street and wants $2,000 for himself. I said, why? Well, you gave $2,000 to him and $2,000 to him. Why don't you give $2,000 to me? I said, I'm under no obligation to give $2,000 to you. I'm thinking of bringing an Irish boy over from Ireland, an orphan. I may adopt him and give him $2,000 too, but I don't give it just to anyone.

And as far as I know, eternal life is a gift of God. The gift of God is eternal life. He gives it. No one's entitled to it. He gives it to whomsoever he will. And he has chosen to give it to those who repent of their sinful ways and accept Jesus Christ as their Savior. I was chaplain of the Hollywood Christian group in its first two years, being one of the founders. And one day a cowboy star came to me and he said, how does God forgive sins anyway? I quoted scripture right away. In Christ we have redemption. In Christ we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our sins according to the riches of his grace. He said, what you're trying to tell me is that Jesus died for me. I said, yes. He said, I've heard that since I was so high in Sunday school, but I don't accept it. I said, why not? How could anyone die for me? Look, he said, we're holding a man for murder. If I go to the chief of police and say, I feel sorry for this fellow, let me take his place. Would they let me take his place? He said, they would not. He said, don't tell me that God loved me because I would go and tell the chief of police, I've got such a love for this fellow, I'll take his place. They still wouldn't let me take his place. He said, how could Jesus die for me?

I said, well, that's a difficult thing to explain, but perhaps I could illustrate. When I was seven years of age, I used to play ball out the back. Diagonally across the lot from our house was a house of a fellow called Albert Mann, and his house was in the way. Every time we hit the ball hard, we were sure to break one of his windows. One day he rushed out and he shook his fist diligently and he said, the next one of you brats breaks my window, I'll break your ear. He said a lot of other things that I couldn't repeat it in a Christian church. Who do you think was the next brat to break his window? I didn't stop running until I got home, but my long-legged sister got home first, and she told mother what I'd done. That I didn't mind, I could manage mother, but for some obscure reason, my father was in the kitchen. He should have been at work. He was a breadwinner, he was supposed to be winning bread or whatever the breadwinners did.

It didn't take me long to make a quick decision. I'd been told by my parents and my teachers that recreation and fresh air were very good for a boy. I decided I'd get more of them, so I started for the back door. My father grabbed me by the wrist. He said, you're coming with me young man. I said, but daddy, that man will hit me, that man. He said, you're coming with me. I went reluctantly. My father knocked the old-fashioned knocker. Mr. Mann came to the door. My father said, here's the boy that broke your window. Mr. Mann didn't spend much time on me. He gave me just a quick glare, and then he turned to my father. He said, now look here, I'm not unreasonable. I know that kids can't help breaking windows. I broke windows when I was a child. But tell me all, why is it that every time there's a window broken in this neighborhood, it has to be my window? He said, I don't mean to forgive the boys, but he said, I've had to fix eleven windows this summer already. He said, somebody has to pay for it, somebody has to pay for it, somebody has to pay for it. My father paid for it, I was forgiven, and I learned the first principle of forgiveness, when you're forgiven, someone must pay.

Twenty years later, my sister's husband borrowed some money from me. Every time I tell the story, I strike a sympathetic chord in someone's heart. There are different marriage customs in different parts of the world. In South Africa, a Zulu will save up enough money to buy a wife. In India, the girl's parents will give you one for taking away. But in Ireland, where I was born, as soon as a man marries your sister, he feels entitled to apply for a loan. He borrowed a hundred pounds from me, worth about five dollars per pound sterling in those days. He offered to pay back a pound a week for two years. I said, I won't charge you interest, you can skip Easter week and Christmas week, but one pound out of your pay every other of the fifty weeks of the year. I never got a penny. He used to come to my birthday parties and wish me many happy returns of the day. I said, when are you going to return the money? But he was full of excuses, he was a gambler, and they're just not responsible as far as money is concerned. I bore him a grudge for two years, then I forgave him.

But which of the two of us suffered, the sinner or the sinned against? Not the sinner, he went free. I could have taken him to court and I could have seized his furniture and I could have had an injunction against him. But the moment I forgave him, I suffered. And it taught me the second principle of forgiveness. The one that forgives is the one that suffers.

I gave this illustration not so long ago in the Mayor's Parlor in Los Angeles City Hall. And a financial expert there asked an open question. He said, does that apply in every case? He said, for instance, when you forgive a man who's embezzled money? I said, yes, I think it would apply there. He said, I could see that, but supposing somebody slandered you and you said, well, I'll forgive you. I said, look, if you want to put it legally, if a man slanders you and you forgive him, it's tantamount to saying, I could take you to court and sue you for $40,000 for slander, but I'm forgiving you. The one that forgives is the one that suffers. He bears it himself. And slander can do a lot more damage than $40,000, as you well know.

So we can say simply, the reason why Jesus Christ died was that someone had to pay. And the reason it was Jesus Christ who died was Moses couldn't die for me, nor Joshua, nor Peter, nor Paul. It had to be Christ, because Christ was God made manifest in the flesh. Only the one who forgives could suffer.

My friend, the cowboy actor, said, well, that's good to know, but not much good me asking God to forgive me. I said, why not? Well, he said, I'd go and do the same things next week. I know myself, he said, I've signed the pledge dozens of times and gone back to the drink. I said, well, you don't understand salvation is not merely the forgiveness of sins. You're thinking of blackboard and all your sins written on the blackboard and God wipes it clear. But I said, God does more than that. God not only forgives our sins, but he gives us a new life. And I quoted Ezekiel, I will take out of you the stony heart and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my spirit within you and cause you to walk in my ways.

That's why I'm most impressed by people whose lives have been changed for Christ, not merely those who say glibly, well, praise God, I accepted Christ 12 years ago and they're still living the same way as they were before. I don't quite accept it. I believe that God gives us a new life.

Chaplain Wyeth Willard of the United States Marines was driving me to catch a train in Boston. We just changed from summertime to standard time and I missed my train. I called the pastor up in New Hampshire where I was supposed to preach. I said, look, I've missed my train. I'm very sorry. The next train doesn't get me in until quarter to nine. Can you keep the people singing from half past seven to quarter to nine? He said, that's no good. I said, what are you going to do about it? I said, do you want me to cancel the meeting or come late? Look, he said, we advertise you rather widely, so I want you to come. Where are you speaking from? I said, Boston South Station. He said, take a taxi to Logan Airport. I said, I've already made inquiries and there's no plane. As a matter of fact, I said, your time Concorde isn't on the line. He said, I know, but one of my members has his own plane. He's a reserve pilot. I happen to know he's at home. I was talking to him just a moment ago. He said, I'm going to call him and he'll fly down for you. I said, you take a taxi because he'll get there almost as quick as you.

I got there in half an hour and he got there in 45 minutes. He walked up to me in blue jeans. He said, are you Edwin Orr? I said, yes. Missed your train? I said, yes. I missed my supper. I said, I'm sorry. He said, well, I'll do it for the pastor any time. Ever flown before? Lots of pilots ask that. They don't want an airsick passenger. They want to be warned, of course. I said, thousands of hours. Hey, where is this? I said, 13th Air Force. Were you out in the Pacific? I was all the way from Guadalcanal around to Tokyo. He said, I was with the 5th Air Force. Were you at Morotai? I said, I was on the 3rd day. I wasn't there for several weeks after they got in. They had to make a strip for us. I said, I remember. He said, I'm glad to have you. Boy, this is great.

So we walked to the plane. They had a lovely little two-seater plane. He put me in the front seat in the plexiglass bubble. He sat higher up behind me. Dual controls. Controls in front of me, front of him. We took off. It was dark. Below us were the twinkling lights of Boston. We're 3,000 feet up. When I realized, he misunderstood me. Well, he says, if you don't mind, I'll eat my supper now and you can fly the rest of the way. I meant that I'd flown as a passenger for thousands of hours, not as a pilot. But the thought came to my mind, here's a chance to learn. I tried to put pedals. I banked it. I pushed the throttle in, pulled it out again. What do you think of her? I said, she flies like a bird. He says, a pretty nice little bus.

We were flying on. I knew that the moment I asked him a question that showed profound ignorance, then that moment he knew that I was no pilot. One thing that did bother me, the plane kept going up. I couldn't level off. Now, I'd seen DC-3 pilots, we called them C-47 pilots, push the joystick away from them to go down, put it towards them to go up. But those things seemed to be fixed. It was dark and I couldn't see, so I felt up and down to see if there was any kind of lock or swivel or something. We kept on going up. Then the pilot said to me, what height are you going to fly at? So I said, what height do you recommend? He said, you're supposed to fly at 3,000, 5,000, 7,000, 9,000 going north, 8,000, 6,000, 4,000, 2,000 coming south. I said, that's the way you keep them apart. He said, yes. He said, of course, you don't need to go too high to get to New Hampshire. I was quite willing to settle for anything, but the plane kept going up. Then suddenly I discovered the controls went in and out like an arm in a sleeve. Pull it out to go up, push it in to go down. And I was flying. I just felt like a kid driving his first car.

Then I was flying along, really enjoying it when the pilot said, where are you headed for? Honestly, I hadn't thought about that. So I said, what do I steer for? He said, you see that beacon out there? I said, no. He said, now watch, every minute on the minute, dash, two dots, watch now. There it is. I saw it. He said, that's Waterbury, Connecticut. I can't tell you to get there, you can't see it from here, but northwest another 20 or 30 miles, you'll find another beacon. Is that how they fly at night? Oh, that's only for light planes. The big planes have a radio beacon, a radio, what's the word? That's right.

We flew on and just as we got over Concord, the thought occurred to me, how am I going to bring this down? When he suddenly said to me, he crumpled up his paper, he wrapped his sandwiches and threw it down. He said, now if you don't mind, I'll bring this plane down. I know this airport like the back of my hand because I live here. I give that as a simple illustration of what God does for us. He gives us his Holy Spirit as a co-pilot. We're still at the controls. The word that's translated the comforter in the words of Jesus Christ is the word paraclete. Any Greek scholar will tell you it means one who stands alongside to help. So I'll give you the word co-pilot. He gives us his co-pilot, the Holy Spirit who guides us day by day. He'll tell us when we're off course, he'll tell us when we're flying too low or too high, he'll tell us when we're heading in the wrong direction. He won't snatch the controls from us, but if we committed to him, he'll bring us safely to port. The word heaven is Anglo-Saxon for haven. He'll bring us safely down.

So we come to a last point. What then do we have to do? Repent and be converted that your sins might be blotted out. The word repent is one of the poorest translated words in the New Testament. Most people think that repentance is a kind of feeling sorry. Repentance doesn't mean that at all. The Greek word for repentance is metanoia, which means changing the mind, but it means more than changing your mind the way you say so-and-so's always changing our mind. It doesn't mean that kind of change of mind. It means change your heart, change your attitude, change your mind, change in ways. Phillips in his translation puts it change your heart. It's a strong word. You know the word metamorphosis? You use that in science. That's like the word metanoia. It means a change of ways.

I knew of a fellow who was a pickpocket. His specialty was snatching women's handbags. He gave the women a good hard shove, grabbed her handbag, but he'd been brought up nicely, and so he always shouted sorry as he ran away. He didn't quit snatching handbags. He didn't repent. Repent means to quit. It means to stop, to change.

So repent and be converted that your sins might be blotted out. The word converted is not a mysterious word. It means simply to turn. The Greek word for turn and convert is exactly the same. Repent and be converted that your sins might be blotted out. Change your attitude and ways and turn from sin to God. Accept Jesus Christ by faith, and he will give you his Holy Spirit to guide you the rest of your human destiny. Those are the simple facts of the gospel.

Now you're adults and you can think for yourselves. All I'm going to suggest is that we bow in prayer, and while we're bowing in prayer, face up to it. And if you feel that you've come to know anything that you should know, come and talk to one of us afterwards, and we'd be glad to help you further to accept Jesus Christ. Let us bow in prayer.