Biographical Sketch

For all his failures, David still obeyed the greatest commandment in the Law: he loved the LORD his God with all his heart, with all his soul, and with all his might.

The young lawyer peered through the early morning darkness. His gaze was directed toward Fort McHenry, which guarded the entrance to Baltimore Harbor. Throughout the previous night, September 13, 1814, he had strained his eyes to try to see the fort. The “bombs bursting in air” had periodically illuminated the darkness, giving a brief but reassuring evidence that “our flag was still there.” From the deck of the British warship where he was temporarily detained, the lawyer, Francis Scott Key, could only watch in helpless anxiety as the “perilous fight” was waged. All night the bombardment by the British navy had continued against the handful of American defenders who garrisoned the fort standing “between their loved homes and the war’s desolation.”

The young missionary eagerly awaited the arrival of his bride. For months Henry Martyn had been expecting his beloved Lydia to make the journey from England to take up residence with him at Danapur, on the banks of the Ganges River in northeast India. Week after week passed as he waited for his bride.

Contentment does not come naturally to the selfish heart of man. Neither did it come naturally to the Apostle Paul. In a letter to the Philippians, he testified that it was through hardships and adversity that he had “learned to be content” (Philippians 4:11). We too must learn contentment through the daily experiences of our lives.

Rare in this world is genuine contentment. Very easily we can compare ourselves with others and then grumble and murmur about our difficult lot in life. Covetousness arises very naturally to the heart of man, and it is very easy to envy the blessings that others enjoy. While it may seem that our trials and difficulties are insurmountable, we can always find another man in circumstances that are worse than our own. Today’s biographical sketch looks at the inspiring example of a pastor who not only became blind and lame, but even lost his voice. Still, he remained content with the providence of God.

In every circumstance, Elisha was content with God’s provision and protection. According to II Kings Chapter 6, on one occasion while Elisha and his servant were in the village of Dothan, an entire army was dispatched with the express purpose of capturing Elisha. The man of God remained perfectly calm and content in the midst of almost certain capture.

Who was Dr. Moon, the bold proclaimer of truth on Treasure Island? Irwin Moon was born in Grand Junction, Colorado on November 3, 1907. The scientific age was dawning. The Wright brothers had recently flown their gravity-defying invention—the airplane—at Kitty Hawk. Internal combustion engines were powering automobiles in a bid to replace horses and mules. Young Irwin had an early hunger to be a scientist and take part in this fascinating new world.

A young Babylonian general and royal prince named Nebuchadnezzar had recently defeated the Egyptian forces at the Battle of Carchemish on the Euphrates River. Following this brilliant victory in 605 B.C., Nebuchadnezzar marched his victorious army through the various subjugated provinces, demanding tribute and taking captive promising young men who could be trained and eventually serve as local officials in the expanding Babylonian Empire. During the final, tragic days of the Judean monarchy, a young Hebrew prince named Daniel was one of those taken captive by Nebuchadnezzar’s conquering army.

From time to time throughout history, God has raised up certain men to become champions of truth in their generation. In the days of the American War for Independence, an unlikely hero from rural Virginia became known as the “Trumpet of the Revolution.” His bold proclamation of truth, his willingness to confront apathy among his countrymen, and his courage to raise a timely warning against tyranny earned him this descriptive title.

Twelve dusty and weary warriors approached the edge of the Israelite encampment. For forty days, these twelve men had been scouting in enemy territory, in the land that the children of Israel knew as the “Promised Land.”

Barnabas never wrote a book, although some scholars suggest that he may have been the writer of the Book of Hebrews. No record exists of Barnabas ever preaching a sermon. Nor, as far as the record goes, did Barnabas ever pastor a church or have a solo ministry of any kind. Rather, he is always linked with others and found humbly in the background. However, Barnabas is important not for what he did but rather for those whom he influenced. There are times when influence is stronger than power or position. In fact, in a very real way, influence is power, and Barnabas had the power of encouragement, the power of example, and the ability to give gifts to the Church—gifts that would keep on giving.

We often hear the claim that the Pilgrims stole land, resources, and crops from the Indians. Plenty of scholars promote this view who see all European settlers as robbers and all North American natives as victims. However, there are plenty of scholars who vigorously deny all wrongdoing on the part of the Pilgrims and paint all Indians as bloodthirsty savages who killed and plundered, and needed to be placed in subjugation. Before any hasty or emotional judgment on the question of relations between European settlers, known commonly as “Pilgrims,” and native inhabitants of Cape Cod, known commonly as “Indians,” it is important to view the settlement question in the light of a broader, historical view.

Tax collectors were despised by patriotic Jews in the first century. Tax collectors, or “publicans,” were viewed as collaborators with Roman tyrants at best, and merciless parasites or outright thieves at worst!

We have become so accustomed to price tags that we take them for granted. But one hundred fifty years ago, price tags were rarely used in most stores in America. Merchants and consumers were accustomed to the system of barter and trade. If a merchant thought that he could sell you a good axe for ten dollars, why would he let a customer buy one for only seven dollars? Merchants intentionally did not show their customers a fixed price. But this system led to much corruption, and many people were taken advantage of over the years through unscrupulous and greedy “negotiations.”

One of the most astonishing series of promises ever given from God to man were bestowed to Abraham. When the Lord called Abraham to leave his home in Ur of the Chaldees, God promised him: “I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing: And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed” (Genesis 12:2–3).

Titus stands as a splendid example of a young convert to Christianity who learned quickly to “adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour” (Titus 2:10) by living a pure life in an impure world. Every temptation faced by young men in our own increasingly godless society was faced by Titus as he walked the streets of Corinth and traveled throughout the island of Crete.

The emaciated monk wept bitterly, kneeling on the floor of his cell at the monastery. Try as he might, he could not break the chains of impurity and sin in his life. The pious monk had renounced the world. He had tried unsuccessfully to flee all temptation. He had taken the Augustinian vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In his search for absolution, the man had left a promising legal career and had given away all of his worldly belongings. He had come to the monastery to find peace and seclusion from the world. However, even there away from all evil, he had discovered to his horror that his own heart was full of sin. Masses, candles, beads, fasting, penance, and even painful flagellations (beatings) could not drive lust, pride, and sin from his heart.

The sunset slowly painted the snowy mountain peaks with a golden glow as a party of weary trappers approached an encampment of Snake Indians. The Snakes were usually accepting, even welcoming, of white men. The tired, hungry mountain men seemed reasonably assured that their hosts would offer them food and a warm place to sleep.

The Hebrew boy who had once been betrayed by his brothers, accused by his master’s wife, and forgotten by his fellow prisoners was now arrayed in fine linen, wore the gold signet ring of Pharaoh, rode in the second chariot, and bore a gold chain about his neck. Wherever he went, people bowed in his presence.

As a young man, he had been a drunkard, a gambler, a fighter, and a man known for violent outbursts of temper. But all that had changed before the war when the Lord Jesus had transformed Alvin. He was now a man of meekness, a humble Christian who cared for his mother, farmed his land, and looked forward to marrying his fiancée, Gracie, if he ever got home again to the mountains of Tennessee. When he was drafted upon the entry of the United States into the First World War, he had written simply on his draft card: “I do not want to fight.”