"My mask is all worn out with teardrops
At night when it's laid on the shelf;
I may make the world think I'm happy,
But I can't hide the truth from myself."
The above lines spoken by a famous clown years ago might well have applied to a young comedian named Sidi Musa.
He was a professional entertainer and singer. He sang and told side-splitting stories wherever he could find a group to listen. His contagious good humor and endless repertoire of funny songs and jokes never failed to captivate, amuse and thoroughly entertain.
To those who knew him, life to Sidi Musa appeared to be one long series of lyrics, laughs and jests. If one of his many fans had been asked to point out a happy man — a man without a care regarding life or death — he would probably have pointed to Sidi Musa.
But was this really true of him? The answer is, No! Behind the mask of careless frivolity lived the real Sidi Musa: a young man with an empty heart, an accusing conscience, and a sad, gnawing anxiety over the future of his soul. He was in the dark — and he knew it — and he craved for light.
As a religious Moslem he prayed more than tradition enjoined, even to the point of wearing himself out. What little money he made he spent to buy help from the "reader" class. He appealed to them constantly that they would give him from the Koran (the book containing the religious and moral code of the Mohammedans) a single verse upon which he could anchor his soul. But without avail, for in that book there is no such verse.
One day, driven to despair, he filled his shoes with small pebbles and walked some fifty miles, hoping and praying that the "Great Allah" would look down with favor upon his self-inflicted penance, and give him his heart's desire — peace.
Reader, perhaps you, like Sidi Musa, are wearing a mask of gaiety and mirth as a cover-up for an empty, sin-burdened heart. You may be "the life of the party" but your popularity will never remove your dread of eternity or give peace to your soul. There is One and only One who can give you abiding rest and peace. That One is Jesus, and to you He calls at this moment. He would have you know that He has "made peace by the blood of His cross" (Col. 1:2020And, having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven. (Colossians 1:20)). Come to Him now, just as you are, and prove the truth of the grand old hymn:
Precious, precious blood of Jesus!
All the price is paid;
Perfect pardon now is offered,
Peace is made.
All of poor Sidi Musa's efforts only proved to him that Moslem prayers, fasts and self-inflicted wounds could bring him no peace. But the Lord Jesus, who loves to give rest to the heavy-laden, sought him out, saved his soul and gave him eternal peace.
Like every conversion to Christ, Sidi Musa's salvation was a miracle. His restless travels took him one afternoon to a Moorish market where thousands of Arabs were gathered to barter, buy and sell. It was never an easy place for a Christian missionary to preach the gospel. The persecution of the Mohammedans was keen and Sidi Musa mingled with the hostile crowd and joined the opposition.
But, in spite of the demonstration, Sidi Musa's ears were quick to pick up the strange and wonderful words which fell from the preacher's lips. Wonderful words of life! They subdued his anger and constrained him to withdraw from the rabble and stand close to the speaker where he drank in every word he had yet to read and say.
When the crowd finally dispersed and the missionary departed, Sidi Musa discreetly followed him to his home. There he anxiously inquired if it were really true that one could know, here and now, that he had passed from death to life, and know that he was saved?
When assured by the missionary from the Word of God that such was verily true, he exclaimed: "Man, I have prayed and toiled and suffered for this! To think that God grants me eternal life on these terms. It is wonderful, wonderful!" He believed, he was saved.
Note: Sidi Musa is now at home with his Savior, Jesus; but his visit to our missionary station, and his never-to-be-forgotten story lives on. Often when I see the heedless, the careless, the prodigal, living in apparent disregard of all the grace and claims of Christ. I say to myself: "Let me tell them of the gospel, for who knows but that behind that ripple of laughter, that jest, that boast, there may beat a sin-darkened, inquiring heart."