August 30

The Word, a powerful weapon

“For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart” (Heb. 4:12).
“O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord” (Jer. 22:29).

In our Protestant land where the Bible is taken for granted, we are apt to forget the impact the first simple reading of the Gospel story can have. Is it not possible for us today to read its simple passages expecting it to affect us and others as powerfully as it did the persons in the following story?
The story is told of a colporteur in Sicily, trudging along the road in the gloaming with still a few miles to travel to his destination. A black-cloaked rider came cantering up behind him and demanded to know what was in his bag. He had fallen into the hands of one of Sicily’s brigand chiefs! The bag was opened and the books displayed. “Ah ha! You are the man who sells pestilential books which corrupt the morals of simple people. I have heard about you.


I’ll burn the accursed books though, and then I’ll shoot you dead!” The colporteur thought and prayed very hard for a moment; then he said, “Sir, before you burn my books and shoot me, I will ask one thing. Let me read some passages from them.” The brigand agreed to this last request, and the colporteur took out a Gospel of St. Luke. “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and he fell among thieves . . .” The brigand listened carefully, and when the story was finished he said he liked it, and agreed that that book at least needn’t be burned. The colporteur selected another, reading this time from the Sermon on the Mount: then another, reading the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians; and so it went on until he had read something from every one of his books, and each time the brigand had been pleased, and had agreed that such a book could not corrupt anyone’s morals. He was most surprised to find that there were no more books left, and felt in the bag and in the colporteur’s pockets to make sure. Then he let the colporteur go on his way, which he did, praising God for his escape.
Years afterwards the colporteur received a letter from America. “My dear friend, do you remember the brigand who stopped you one night on the road? I am he, but a brigand no longer. I have never forgotten you nor the words you read to me. They saved me from an evil life, thank God.”

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