Some years ago I was living in one of the Alpine valleys of Southern France, preaching to one of the little Huguenot congregations while I was pursuing my studies at the University of Grenoble. Every Thursday morning I walked four miles up the valley to a little centre where I taught a score of children about God. In that village there lived a Roman priest who, on Thursday, used to come down the valley to a village near the one where I lived. Frequently our paths crossed, and at times we found ourselves going the same direction.
My parents had been married for almost twenty years before I, their only son, was born. We all know how eagerly a son’s birth is anticipated after there has been a line of girls in a family. It would appear that my home was no exception to the rule. There was, therefore, some excitement among that household when I finally put in an appearance, and this was increased by the fact that I was the smallest of all the babies in our family. My father could carry me quite easily in one arm. I rested quite comfortably, I am told, with my head above the palm of his hand and my feet in the bend of his elbow.
In the early chapters of the Gospel of John, we have a striking contrast between two characters who heard two great messages given by the Lord Jesus. In the third chapter, Nicodemus comes on the scene, and in the fourth chapter we meet the woman at the well. Both were privileged to hear for the first time wonderful truths concerning the work of God in the salvation of a soul.
The Greek language is very strong when used to speak of the power of God. Our English word “power” translates several different words from the Greek text of the New Testament. There is the word dunamis from which we get “dynamo” and “dynamite”; it is a word that means “explosive power”. This is the word used by Paul in the great verse: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Romans 1:16).
When John G. Paton landed in the New Hebrides to begin his mission work, he faced an enormous task. The language had never been written – he had to listen to the speech of the natives and write down in his notebook the sounds that he heard them speak.
