p. 138 | THE TELEGRAPH IN PALESTINE

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 1, 1877

THE TELEGRAPH IN PALESTINE.

By Edwin B. Raffensperger

The “Keely Motor” it seems is yet before the public. Recent notices of that wonder of wonders assure us that it will prove all that has been claimed for it. Be this as it may, we must not be surprised at any thing. We are accustomed in these latter days to glorify the magnetic telegraph, and to speak with great self-complacency of this wonder of the nineteenth century. What can be more astonishing than the fact that a message may be transmitted around the world on wire?

But the people of Palestine, in the first century, witnessed the working of something far better than any of the modern systems of telegraphing. Without the intervention of electric machine, voltaic piles, needles, coils, registering apparatus, armature movements, posts, wires, cables, glass and rubber insulators, or any of the appliances by which operators now transmit messages, “a healing word” is sent instantaneously a distance of twenty-five miles. No atmospheric disturbance, no accident to the wires or machinery, no want of skill on the part of the operator, endangers the transmission.

Behold its effect.

There, in the sick-chamber of a family belonging to the upper-class, honored and respected, surrounded by all the comforts of life, lies a child—perhaps the only son of doting parents. For days and nights they have watched the progress of the disease. It baffles the skill of all the physicians, and defies the efforts of kind friends and neighbors. At last, with broken and bleeding hearts, they give up in despair. They have exhausted the last remedy, and still the child grows worse. Is there no hope? Can mortal skill suggest no restorative? Have we done all that can be done to save our darling?

“Yes,” say the parents, “we have done all we could, and oh how willingly would we give all our possessions for the restoration of our dying boy!”

“No,” says one, “not all. Physicians can’t save him; medicines can do him no good; but there is One who is greater and wiser and better than all physicians. He attended a marriage not long ago, and, while there, actually converted, for the benefit of the guests in attendance, six large vessels of water into excellent wine. That man can save your child.”

The agonized father acts upon the suggestion, and starts at once for Cana of Galilee. He makes no apology for his rudeness, but rushes at once into the presence of the miracle-worker. His manner indicates to all his terrible earnestness.

“Come down to Capernaum at once; my son is dying,” is the touching request.

“Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe,” is the ambiguous response.

The anxious nobleman needed a gentle reproof. Here he had rushed into the presence of Him who had ability to open eyes, unstop ears, still waves, and raise corpses; and yet, in his heart, he limits the power of Jesus, and seems to think that nothing but his actual presence can do any good for the dying child. He has faith enough to go to Jesus, but seems to doubt his ability to send help so far. He repeats the request: “Sir, come down ere my child die.”

The response is, “Go thy way, thy son liveth.”

With the utterance of these words there goes forth a power that is felt in that distant sick-chamber. To the astonishment of the attendants, a sudden, a striking, an unprecedented, an unaccountable, a miraculous change takes place. The pulses at once become regular, the skin moist, the eyes natural, the limbs strong, the voice right, and the dying child leaps up from his couch, and is just as well as any of the attendants.

The next day the father, strong in the faith that the Saviour’s word is true, is delighted to hear as he approaches the house, “Thy son liveth.”

“At what hour began he to amend?” asks the nobleman.

“Yesterday, at the seventh hour, the fever left him.”

Here now was a “mathematical proof” that the telegraph worked accurately.

Thus the ruler reasoned: “Yesterday, in Cana, at one o’clock in the afternoon, I besought Jesus to heal my son; and here in Capernaum, twenty-five miles distant, at one o’clock precisely, the fever left him.”

Is it any wonder that this man and his whole house believed? May just the same incident serve to establish our faith in the ability of Jesus, who is still the Lord of life. Yea, more, are there not similar responses to the prayers of God’s people now? Can we not detect these wonderful coincidences on every page of the history of prayer? God has placed the foot of the ladder reaching to Heaven, with angels ascending and descending, at our very feet. It is our privilege to pray. It is our duty to pray for our dying sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, and friends; and while we are yet speaking, God will hear and answer.—Edwin B. Raffensperger, in Christian Weekly.