MBIA UNION COLLEGE LIBRARY TAKOMA PARK 14 MD. • wow« « • • 4locilt: 'we THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR ® that with a little clay made of dust and spittle, Jesus caused blind eyes to see. And that in turn set many tongues a-wagging: THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR is a non- "Why, that Galilean?" fiction weekly. It is published for young adults who are capable of asking sincere "He? He made you see?" questions, and who seek to know the "Everybody knows he's a sinner!" counsels of Scripture. Its contents are chosen to serve readers who want to The healed man could not—or reach maturity—spiritually, socially, in- tellectually, and physically. Its staff cared not—to answer their quib- holds that God is man's heavenly Fa- bling, but replied, "Whether he be ther; that Jesus is man's Saviour; that genuine Christians will strive to love a sinner or no, I know not: one God supremely and their neighbors as thing I know, that, whereas I was themselves. Its pages reflect an expanding ob- blind, now I see." jective from 1852 to 1968. First it was essentially a vehicle for providing That was not the only time that youth Sabbath school lessons. Now it Jesus with so little did so much. One also provides many added services for a generation that should witness the time He did it with just one word. literal return of Jesus and the restora- You remember that Mary Magda- tion of a sinless world to the universe of God. lene came to Jesus' sepulcher. It A was early in the morning. We sur- mise that she had slept little, if any, Pinch all night. An outcast woman, she Editor WALTER T. CRANDALL had been made clean—had been Associate Editor JAMES JOINER of remade a woman in the sense in Art Editor T. K. MARTIN which the Creator designed her. Layout Artist ALAN FORQUER Salt But her Benefactor, her best Friend, SHARE Editor MILDRED LEE JOHNSON had been crucified—was dead! And tears were all she had to bring in Editorial Secretary MILDRED ADAMS by LINNIE KEITH loving remembrance to His tomb. Editorial Consultants But she must come, and she had THOMAS S. GERATY come—only to find the tomb empty. THEODORE LUCAS, DONALD E. MAN- NE evening as we were going Only? No! she heard Could it SELL, CALVIN E. MOSELEY, JR., GERALD R. NASH, F. DONALD YOST O through the cafeteria line, he be? "Mary." It was! It was her name. winked at me. Then I really knew Just her name. And she turned to Circulation Manager S. L. CLARK he liked me." see the living Jesus—Rabboni, her Field Representatives C. M. WILLIS Those words came from the wife Master! CLIFFORD OKUNO of one of my colleagues my first He was there. Alive. Her Friend— year out of college. Only a wink did all mankind's Friend—was there. He it. After that, she knew—and they was there in a more meaningful, a Published by the Seventh-day Advent- both still know. Many of life's pre- more eternal, sense than ever He ists. Printed every Tuesday by the Re- view and Herald Publishing Association, cious, most meaningful awarenesses could have been before the Geth- at Takoma Park, Washington, D.C. spring from ostensibly insignificant semane, the Calvary, experience. 20012, U.S.A. Second-class postage paid at Washington, D.C. Copyright, 1968, incidents. Since that day 2,000 years ago, Review and Herald Publishing Associa- Again, there was the time in my many a Mary—in an American shift, tion, Washington, D.C. 20012. To contact the editorial staff, write, early life that my sister and I were an Indian sari, an Eskimo parka— or telephone Area Code 202, 723-3700. farmed out for the day in the home has looked up in her anxiety, in her Subscription rates to U.S. and U.S. possessions: one year, $7.95; in clubs of of two of our playmates while our longing for understanding, her need three or more, one year, each 56.25. parents went shopping, via horse and of a friend—to hear in her soul that Rates slightly higher in Canada. All other countries: add 80 cents postage buggy, to our county seat town. Voice calling her by name. each year per subscription. When they returned at dusk, even Just a name spoken, just a little A month before you move, notify THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR of both the bag of candy we had learned to clay made from dust and spittle, just your old and new address. Any cor- expect upon such occasions took sec- a pinch of salt—and what a differ- respondence about your subscription should enclose the address label from ond best. First it was, "Mamma, Mrs. ence! the magazine or wrapper. If the post McCalla's beans tasted so strange!" No, Jesus in person does not walk office is unable to make delivery, your subscription will be suspended until a Mother quickly explained that the the streets of Nazareth, of Paris, of correct address is supplied. invalid McCalla boy could not have Calcutta, of Washington, D.C. Be- salt in his food. But what a differ- fore He left, though, He told those ence a pinch of salt would have closest to Him, "I have given you Photo credits: Cover, Wellesley Muir; p. 9, cour- made! an example, that ye should do as tear of Elizabeth Wakefield. Since those childhood days I have I have done." done a great deal of thinking about How He simplified this business of VOLUME 116, NUMBER 38 SEPTEMBER 17, 1968 life's little things. You remember Christian living! 2 The Youth's Instructor, September 17, 1968 tying, so I took the housing off. It was bulging with shavings. I emptied them into the empty wastebasket, finished sharpening the pencil, and cast a hur- ried eye around the room to make sure that everything was in proper order. Finding it in what I considered to be good shape, I raced off toward A the cafeteria. Next morning, while our youth TASTE problems class was discussing proper amusements, the door was pushed OF open and the principal's secretary DORMITORY leaned inside the room. As Miss Hop- kins paused, the secretary announced: LIFE •••4,,Orc"..c. "There's an urgent telephone call for Syd in the principal's office." I was glad that Miss Hopkins re- frained from making one of her cele- brated remarks as I left her classroom. She knew how to deflate the pompous and discomfit the smart aleck, and it wasn't always fun to be on the receiv- r- p 1059 BY REVIEW AND HERALD IRS SCHLAIKJER, N A , ARTIST ing end of her comments. Evidently she sensed my embarrassment because she went on with the class as though Sweepings, Shavings, and Shame nothing strange had happened. As I strode the short distance to the by SYDNEY ALLEN, Ph.D. principal's office, my mind raced to and fro. What had happened? No one PART THREE had ever been called out of class with such urgency before. FTER classes the next day, I went curring tasks. He emphasized that the I stepped into the office and an- A to see John Clough, the work vast expanse of concrete floor must be nounced my presence. The reception- superintendent to whom I had been swept every day. He showed me how ist pointed to a partly opened door assigned. I didn't realize that assign- to wield the broom efficiently: (1) and said, "Go right in. Mr. Parker's ment to his department placed me give it a push, (2) then a sharp rap expecting you." I had never been near the bottom in the campus peck- on the floor to dislodge dust, (3) then treated with such high-level pomp in ing order. Cleaning classrooms, offices, a withdrawal stroke, and (4) repeat. all my life. I poked my head into the and chapels seemed far more pleasant He detailed the duties in the wash- office. to me than cleaning cow barns, hen rooms and ended up in his own office. "Did you send for me, Mr. Parker?" houses, and sheepsheds, so I felt no He emphasized that he wanted his of- "Why yes, Syd. There's a telephone sense of lowliness about my new work. fice thoroughly swept and dusted every call for you—you may use my phone." Mr. Clough assigned me to be the day. He gave me strongly worded in- I picked up the receiver, fully ex- janitor for College Hall, a large gym- structions that the wastebasket by the pecting to hear the anguished voice of nasium and auditorium used by the side of his desk must be emptied every some relative reporting the maimed or school in fall, winter, and spring, and day without fail. dying condition of a loved one. In- by the Southeastern California Con- I got out a push broom, scattered stead, I heard Mr. Lamb. ference during summer. My supervisor the oily sweeping compound across the "Good morning, Syd," he began. in this new place would be Mr. Lamb, floor and began my work. The only "Well, good morning, Mr. Lamb," whose physical-education classes were sound in the deserted place was the I replied. "What can I do for you?" conducted in the building and who "swish, crack, swish," from the broom. "I'll tell you what you can do for was charged with responsibility for its When the floor was clean I serviced me," he said.