3688 — The Round World Again
By Editor
A Methodist minister tells me that had the Pilgrims come the other way around the world, the seventh day of the week would come different—that on account of the loss or gain of a day, the going around the world makes the cycle of seven days of man a mere happen-so, or chance. Please explain. F. H. Presumably, then, this same Methodist minister is not at all particular as to Sunday; he does not consider that it has any holiness whatever. It is merely a chance as to whether we are keeping the first day; or, in other words, the first day is any day which we may so designate, depending on where we begin to number. In that case, of course, Christ did not rise from the dead on any first day of the week, but on no day in particular. Of course the mere statement of the thing shows its absurdity. The Lord rested on a definite day, blessed a definite day, sanctified or set apart, for man's use, a definite day. For forty long years during the wilderness wanderings of the children of Israel, a double portion of manna fell on the day before the seventh day. None fell on that seventh day. That which was preserved from the day before kept over the seventh day without spoiling, while that kept over from any other day became ruined by time. All this with a tremendous emphasis places the definite day of the cycle. Then, too, God's numbering would do this always, had it always been followed. It was "first day," "second day," "third day" of the weekly cycle, or Sabbath cycle. Consequently, the whole seven days themselves were called a Sabbath, or week; and the first day of that week was the first day toward the Sabbath, or into the Sabbath; and the second day, and so on. Man never could have forgotten the week if he had been true to his Maker; but God forestalled all this by pointing out, 2,500 years after the setting apart of the Sabbath, the particular, definite day to Israel. There is no question of a loss, or change, of time from that time to the resurrection of Christ; but nevertheless, in order that there might be no question concerning it, the Lord pointed out the Sabbath and the first day of the week, as recorded in Matt. 28:1: "In the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week." The Sabbath, then, was the day just previous to the first day of the week. There is no question whatever among scientific men regarding the loss of time since then. God knew that the world was round, as pointed out in another question, and He set apart the Sabbath for man, knowing that man would live on all parts of the earth. It is a mere cavil to say that if—and if—and if—this thing, or that thing, or the other thing, had happened, things would have been different. All that may be true, and may not be true. If the Lord had never set apart a Sabbath, we would not have had any; and if He had made the first day of the week the Sabbath, that would have been His Sabbath, but He did not. The Pilgrims did not come to us from the east; and if the world had been circumnavigated at that time, they would doubtless have understood clearly enough that they ought to make a change in time in crossing the Pacific Ocean. All that we need to know is the order of the days that God Himself so clearly established, and then keep the seventh day as it comes to us, or, if we wish to put it otherwise, as we come to it. The day may be considered stationary, and the earth rolls around to the day. We may begin on the eastern coast of Asia and proceed westward to the western coast of America, and we are in harmony with the people all the way regarding the day of the week. This is true, also, if we reverse our journey. It is only when we cross the great body of the Pacific Ocean that we either drop a day or add a day, depending on which way we are going. In one way, in going around the world, we continually lengthen our day, by going with the sun; and going the other way we shorten our day, by going against the sun; and in passing clear around the world, we either lengthen or shorten it to the extent of one day, and that men take into the account of their reckoning when crossing the Pacific Ocean, but nowhere else.