Saturday, May 19, 2007

Parson Sam Blane in Faith (Part 1)

I.

Parson Sam Blane was lean and tall. By any standard he was a handsome man, but he paid little attention to his physical features.

His thick, black hair was naturally wavy, and his skin was smooth and deeply tanned. He spent many hours under the sun, riding the trails of the West, traveling from one town to the next on a somewhat regular circuit.

At each town, he would deliver a Sunday sermon. Then he normally spent another day or two, meeting with church elders and counseling members of the congregation. Then, after a day’s rest, he would purchase supplies, saddle up and ride to the next town.

Parson Blane was a man, not yet thirty years old, who was wise beyond his years. The general lawlessness of the West had taught him to be cautious, alert and as rugged as the untamed land he traveled. He was keenly aware that to spread the Gospel, he first had to survive. And the dangers were real. During his three years as an itinerant preacher, he had battled wild animals, hostile Indians and men who had no respect for the law. On the trail and even in some towns, he wore a six gun on his hip. And he knew how to use it.

“You headin’ out today?” the storekeeper asked.

“Yes, Zeke, I am,” Blane said. “By the way, when am I going to see you in church?”
“Oh, you know me, Parson. I’m not a church-going man. Never had much use for the Lord. And I figure he’s got no use for me.”

Blane remained silent for a moment. Then he said, “I think I’ll take another sack of beans. Almost ran out the last time I headed up to Abilene.”

Zeke reached under the counter and brought up a bag of beans. “Here, Preacher, I want you to try these. It’s a special brand, and I think you’re gonna like ‘em.”

“I think you’re wrong about that,” Blane said, taking hold of the sack.

“You’re not gonna like ‘em?”

“I’m talking about the Lord having no use for you.” Blane smiled.

“Oh, that!”

“In fact,” Blane continued, “since you’re offering these special beans, let me offer you something special.”

Blane reached into one of his saddlebags on the counter and pulled out a Bible. “Here, I want you to have this.”

Seeing it, Zeke said, “No, I don’t think so, Parson—“

“Zeke, all you need is faith.”

“With all due respect, Parson, I don’t believe in anything I can’t see.”

“So, you don’t believe in gravity?”
“Well, yes, of course, I believe in gravity. I’m standing on the floor, ain’t I?”

“You don’t see gravity, do you?

“Well, no, but that’s different!”

“How is it different?”

“I don’t know; it just is!”

“Well, since you have faith that something you can’t see is going to keep you on the floor, why can’t you have faith that something you can’t see is going to save your soul?”

Zeke chuckled. “Parson, if you don’t beat all. You think word games can get me to believe in your Jesus Christ?”

“No,” Blane said. “But reading this Bible can.” He reached out his hand, holding the Bible for Zeke to take.
Zeke pushed back Blane’s hand still holding the Bible.

“Alright, Zeke, can I ask you a question about these beans.”

Zeke perked up. “Yeah, they’re a special brand. Came in just yesterday.”

“So, you haven’t tried them yourself?”

“Not yet.”

“Then, how do you know these beans are special?”

“The supplier sent a flyer in the carton. The flyer told all about how the beans are grown.”

“So, you know the beans are special because the flyer said so?”

“That’s right. I also know the supplier. He always delivers quality product.”

“Okay, now let me show you something.” Blane opened the Bible to the Book of Romans, Chapter 5 and Verse 8. He tilted the open Bible so Zeke could see the page. Placing his finger on the verse, Blane read aloud: “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”

Zeke looked up from the Bible.

“Zeke, you ever had anyone other than Christ love you so much that he died for you?”

“No,” Zeke said solemnly.
“Me neither,” Blane said. “Here, you take this Bible. It has the power to give you the faith you need to be saved from the penalty of sin.”

Blane held out the Bible, again.

Zeke hesitated.

“I know the supplier,” Blane said. “He always delivers quality product!”

Zeke eyed the Bible, but he did not take it.

Blane asked, “What do you have to lose? If it doesn’t work, then you’re right back where you are now. If it does work, then you gain the faith that saves your soul and that puts God’s love in your heart.”

After a long moment, Zeke said, “Okay, Preacher. I’ll take the Bible, and I’ll read it. But I’m still charging you for the beans!”

II.

The first day on the trail to Abilene came and went. On the morning of the second day, dark clouds rolled in, and Blane knew he was in for a storm.

The Black beneath Blane, in contrast to his normally high-spirited but controlled temperament, had grown restless. The mighty animal knew the coming storm meant thunder and lightning, and he disliked such atmospheric disturbances.

Blane, himself, was displeased by the thought of getting drenched by the inevitable downpour. So, by mid-morning, he began looking for suitable shelter. Being familiar with the trail ahead and knowing of no place to hole up, he veered from the trail and headed west.

After a time, he saw smoke rising in the distance and turned the Black in that direction. With a gentle nudge of spurs, Blane brought the animal to an easy lope.

By now, the temperature had dropped and the wind had picked up. Feeling another nudge of spurs, the horse lowered his head and broke into a smooth gallop.

The sound of the bridle, the leather saddle and the steady breathing of the horse played a familiar, rhythmic tune against the wind.

As Blane had hoped, the smoke was rising from the chimney of a cabin. Beside the wooden structure was a barn. He reached the buildings as the first thunder rumbled across the heavens. Dismounting the Black, Blane heard a man’s voice.

“Who is it?” the man yelled in a hostile tone.

Blane turned toward the window from which the man had yelled and saw a Winchester pointed at him.

“I’m Parson Blane. I’d like to stable my horse and wait out the storm. I mean you no harm.”

“You a preacher?” the man yelled.

“Yes, sir, I am. On my way to Abilene.”

Slightly softening his tone, the man said, “Okay, stable your horse and come on in.”
“Thank you, sir.”

Inside the barn, Blane heard the crack of thunder, low and close. The Black’s eyes were wide, but he stood steady. “It’s alright, boy,” Blane said in a soothing voice.

He stripped the animal of the saddle and rubbed him down. Then he picked up his saddlebags and walked to the barn door. The first drops of rain had begun to sprinkle the ground.

Blane jogged across the open area from the barn to the cabin and then he knocked on the door. When he heard the man’s voice, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The man was sitting at a table in front of the fireplace. He held the Winchester, trained directly on Blane. “First thing you do, Mister, is take off that gun belt and hang it there by the door.”

“Yes, sir,” Blane said. “Like I said, I mean you no harm.”

The man nodded, but said nothing. He continued to hold the Winchester steady.

“I’m assuming,” Blane said, “you mean me no harm either. Am I right about that?”

The man leaned back in his chair. “You’re still alive, ain’t ya?”

As Blane hung his gun belt on a hook, he said, “Yes, sir, I’m still alive. But you have me wondering for just how long.”
“Mister,” the man said, “as long as you are who you say you are, I reckon you’ll live a lot longer than if you ain’t. Now, empty out those saddlebags on the floor and let’s take a look-see.”

Blane had noticed it the moment he had opened the door. With the threat of the rifle pointed at him, however, the significance of what he had noticed had not registered in his mind until now. It was the smell.

“Who is hurt?” Blane asked bluntly.

The man sat up. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Someone in this house is hurt. I was a medic in the war. I live with the smell of blood and bandages and worse in my dreams. Who is back in one of those rooms?”

The man lowered the Winchester. He turned his head and yelled, “It’s okay. You can come out now.”

The door to one of the back rooms opened, and a woman and a little girl appeared.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Parson Blane,” he said, removing his hat.

“It’s my son, Parson,” the man said. “He’s laying back there with a broken leg. Fever came upon him last night. You say you know something about medicine?”

“Let me see him.”

The woman led Blane to the boy, and the man followed them into the room.
One look and Blane knew the boy was in serious trouble. “How long has he been like this?”

“Pert’ near a week,” the man said.

“You know of any doctor closer than Abilene?”

“I don’t know of any doctor, at all,” the man said.

“This boy needs a doctor right now. The closest doctor I know of is in Abilene. That’s a two-day ride. If we use that wagon in the barn, it will take us three or four days. If the boy stays like this any longer, he’ll die.”

“Can’t you do anything for my son?” the woman asked.

“I have no medicine to take down the infection. This boy needs a doctor! I’m no doctor!”

Blane quickly brushed past the man and his wife. For a brief moment, he stood in the outer room looking into the tearful eyes of the little girl. Even at that tender age, she knew her brother was dying.

Blane turned and rushed out of the cabin. The clouds had broken wide open, and he felt the fury of the wind and the rain.

He knew the boy would die quickly without help. Yet, with time running out, here, in the middle of nowhere, no help was to be had.

He stood and looked up. Then he yelled, “Why, God? Why?”

TO BE CONTINUED
* * *
COMMENT on FAITH (Part 1)

“In the Gospel God offers and gives to us the best things. There He promises grace, forgiveness, life, and salvation for Christ’s sake to lost sinners…Although all the promises of God…are the object of faith; the object of saving faith is the promise of God’s grace and forgiveness in Christ Jesus.

“A faith based on anything other than on the promise of God’s grace in Christ does not save, no matter how sincere this faith may be. Jesus Himself says: ‘He who believes in the Son has everlasting life; and he who does not believe the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abides on him’ (John 3:36).”[1]

For the non-believer: “So faith comes by hearing [what is told], and what is heard comes by the preaching [of the message that came from the lips] of Christ (the Messiah Himself).” (Romans 10:17, Amplified Bible)

For the believer: “(Although)…fluctuations of faith do not affect its saving power, (f)aith in the grace of God is not of equal strength in all believers. (And) (i)t does not constantly maintain a uniform strength in the same individual.”[2]

The way for the non-believer to gain faith and the way for the believer to gain greater faith are the same; that is, through the Gospel, whether it is “read, heard, or remembered.”[3]

In Part 1 of the story, Blane is faced with the impending death of the farmer’s son. The situation is a grim challenge to the strength of Blane’s faith.

Our story continues in the next issue.
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[1] Edward W. A. Koehler, A Summary of Christian Doctrine, Third Revised Edition, New King James Version, ed. Brent W. Kuhlman (St. Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 2006), pp. 196-197
[2] Ibid., p. 197
[3] Ibid., p. 255