A FINE story of two brothers was told by one of the boys concerned.
Once I saved Tom from a promised whipping for leaving down the bars when he went after the cows at milking time, thus allowing the young cattle left in the pasture to get out. Father had reproved him several times, till finally he threatened to whip him if it happened again. Weeks passed, and then he left the bars down again. The cattle got into the corn and did much damage.
The next morning father said nothing, but went about his usual work. Tom was gloomy; there was an air of depression in the house, and I was greatly troubled. I couldn’t bear to have Tom whipped, nor could I blame father. At last resolving to speak to him, I approached him slowly, for I did not feel sure of my ground, and stood still without saying a word. He looked up at me, and said,
“Well, Joe, what is it?”
“I have come to you to speak about Toni, I don’t want him whipped.”
“I don’t know how you can help it, my son. I cannot have my crops destroyed in this way, and I must keep my word.”
“Father, didn’t you read this morning in the lesson: ‘He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, ... and with His stripes we are healed’?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I will take half the blows you intend to give Tom.”
“I can’t do that, Joe; Tom is the transgressor, not you,” father answered, his face softening, and his voice trembling a little. Then looking at me keenly, he asked: “Does Tom know you have come to me?”
“No, he knows nothing of my coming.” My father stood leaning on his pitchfork with both hands, looking down on the ground. At length he said,
“Go and bring Tom.” I found Tom on the front porch with a sober face, trying to study.
“Come with me, Tom; father wants you.”
“I know what he wants,” he answered, turning a little pale. After a moment’s hesitation he arose, saying, “I might as well go and have it done with.” Father stood as I had left him. He did not seem to see us; he was lost in reverie.
“Father,” I ventured timidly, “Toni is here.” He looked up at us both quickly; then said,
“Toni, do you remember these words in our Scripture-reading this morning: ‘He was wounded for our transgressions; He was bruised for our iniquities, ... and with His stripes we are healed’?” (Isa. 53:55But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)).
“Yes,” said Tom, greatly surprised. “What do you think those words mean?”
“That Christ suffered for us,” replied Tom, his voice unsteady and his face flushing up.
“Well, Joe offers to suffer for you.” Tom turned to me with a look on his face I shall never forget, and exclaimed,
“No, Joe; you shall not do that” Then flinging his arms around my neck, he kissed me, and said, “The stripes belong to me, father.” Tears were falling down my father’s face, and for a moment he could not speak. Then he said,
“No, Tom, I cannot punish anybody now. I do not think you will ever forget this day. If you do, remember, Joe’s offer holds good. I love my children, and want to do them all the good I can; but I must be obeyed, and this is one way of doing them good. You may go now.” Then, with great awe upon us, we went to the house.
The Lord Jesus not only offered to bear half the punishment for our sins, but He bore the whole (Isa. 53:66All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:6)), and we go free if, through faith, we believe on Him, and accept Him as our Substitute and Saviour.
ML 05/16/1937