It was in an Eastern city, nearly nineteen hundred years ago. A funeral cortege had just passed out through the city gate. The dead man was the only son of his mother and she was a widow. Much people of the city were with her.
And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not.
And He came and touched the bier: and they that bare him stood still. And He said, young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And He delivered him to his mother. And there came a great fear on all; and they glorified God.
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It was in another Oriental city some twenty-four hundred years ago. A funeral had just passed out through the gate. Much people of the city followed and the mourners wept as only those without hope can weep. China's greatest sage, Confucius, was passing and heard the wails for the dead. He saw the procession slowly wend its way to the hills outside the city. He passed on to his house—not to eat—but to mourn and fast, in bitterness of soul, for his helplessness.
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For nearly twenty-four hundred years, China has sought to follow the teachings of her dead sage. Today, China herself lies dead-dead in sins. Both the sage and his teachings have proved helpless and hopeless.
Have you any knowledge of help and hope for such a state?
Do you know a Savior who can give life? I know of a world that is sunk in shame, Where hearts oft faint and tire, But I know of a Name, a NAME, a NAME! That can set that world on fire!