Wisdom of the Sadhu. Sundar Singh

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Wisdom of the Sadhu - Sundar Singh

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when I was tired, I often grew annoyed when people came to talk to me and ask me questions. I still grow irritated at times, but not as often as I used to. Moreover, I used to toy at times with the thought of giving up the self-denial required of a sadhu – of getting married and living in comfort and ease. Now, however, I see clearly that my calling is different, and that the gift of ecstasy God has given me is far better than any home, and far greater than any hardship I might endure.

      “He’s back! The Sadhu has returned!” The news ran like wildfire through the dingiest alleys of Kotgahr. No adult took notice; few even heard the excited cries above the din of the marketplace. But the children –the dirty toddler with the bloated stomach; the girl with the maimed foot; the boy with the scarred face; the scrawny offspring of the lepers, shunned even by the Untouchables – they heard the cries. Sundar Singh was back – and he was there again for them. And so they hurried – running, scuffling and limping – to his cave. It would be impossible to imagine a happier band of children.

      Meanwhile, many miles away, among the students of the Christian Boys’ Boarding School, Sundar Singh was changing the lives of other children too. C. F. Andrews, a close friend of the Sadhu, remembers:

      Whenever Sundar Singh was in town, he spent most of his spare time visiting the boys in the school. They sat up with him into the long hours of the night and became intensely eager to go to Kotgahr and live with him there, so that they might catch something of his brave spirit.

      The changes that resulted were marvelous to witness. One of the students, a cricketer and athlete, gave up assured prospects in government service for a life of Christian service. Another made up his mind to enter the ministry of the Church for a life of sacrifice and devotion. When one of the school sweepers, an Untouchable, fell ill, one of the boys who had come most under the influence of the Sadhu, went into the sweepers’ quarters, stayed with him and nursed him through his illness. Such a thing had never happened in the history of the school.

      One of the senior students returned late one evening, carrying on his back a man from the hills who was in the last stage of a terrible infectious disease. The boy had found him in an unfrequented place at the edge of the jungle, where he had been lying neglected, possibly for some days. Without a thought he loaded the man on his back and carried him for nearly two miles along a mountain track. Even the physical feat was remarkable; but the moral stamina that made him ready to risk a dangerous disease while others had passed by was more noteworthy still. Only because he was living with the Sadhu, did the inspiration come to this young man with such compelling force as to make him act in this manner. Still further, the humility and reticence with which this brave deed was done were themselves a reflection of the Sadhu’s spirit.

      What, it may be asked, was the attraction that made such a wonderful change? Nothing that was merely second-rate could possibly have effected it. No mode of living, half in comfort, half in self-denial, could have worked such a miracle. Indeed, those of us who did our work surrounded by too much outward comfort did not impress the young people. We did not think it possible for us to change our style of living, though we often talked the matter over. But Sundar Singh’s life could stand the test. It was reckless in its self-spending. He had counted the cost. The Cross was not preached only, but lived – and that made all the difference.

      II. conversations

      Parable

      the pilgrim

      There is a deep and natural craving in the human heart that can be satisfied nowhere except in God. Our being in this world is a test, a preparation for the deepest state of spiritual communion. But most of us, suppressing our deepest longings and disdaining God, seek satisfaction from this world. Such a path can only lead to despair.

      The story is told of a man who made it his goal in life to find peace and to satisfy all his desires. He thought that if he wandered the world, he would be sure to find a place where he could live a life of peace and rest without having to work or worry or suffer pain. Having made careful preparations, he set out on his journey. For months he wandered from place to place but could not find what he was seeking. One day he saw an old man sitting by the edge of a new grave. The traveler came closer and asked the old man whose grave it was. The man told him a remarkable story:

      Two woodcutters from my village went out into the nearby jungle to cut wood. By chance, I was also walking that way. I saw them and greeted them from a distance. They were seated near a bush in conversation and did not notice me. So I approached them, and as I came closer, one of them saw me and quickly covered something with a cloth. I asked him what was under the cloth. At first, the men tried to evade my question and keep their secret hidden. So I asked again. Finally, they told me their story, saying that I was to be the judge of what had happened, and I was to give them my advice.

      One of the men told me that as they were walking through the forest, they noticed something glittering under the bush. Coming closer, they found two gold ingots. When I arrived, they were debating what to do with this treasure. I told them that these bars were death traps in the guise of gold and they should be left under the bush and forgotten. I explained to them that I had heard about a banker in a nearby town who had been killed by burglars in his house. If the thieves were somewhere about and discovered the woodcutters with their treasure, they would not hesitate to kill them. Moreover, if the woodcutters kept the gold and were discovered, they would surely be accused of the theft and the banker’s murder. They nodded in agreement and said they would do as I suggested. Then I went on my way.

      However, they continued to argue over the gold, ignoring my advice. The first woodcutter demanded two-thirds share, because according to him, it was he who had discovered the gold; the other insisted that they should divide it equally. Finally, the first agreed. To celebrate, one of them went into the village to buy something to eat.

      Once separated, however, both men burned with such greed that each plotted to kill the other. When the woodcutter who had gone into the village returned, the one who had remained to watch over the gold attacked him and killed him. But the murderer did not live to enjoy the gold, because – not knowing that his companion had poisoned the food he had bought – he ate of it and fell dead. Now both of them lie in this grave.

      Looking over to another grave with a marble headstone, the traveler asked the old man, “Whose grave is that there?” The old man shook his head thoughtfully and said:

      That man was exceedingly rich. But now he is dead, and what use is his fancy monument? And look over there. Do you see that mound? That was a man who was proud and cruel, using violence and smooth words to take over a kingdom. Once he was in power, he demanded that all the citizens should satisfy his desires and worship him as a god. Then he was stricken with a fatal disease, and worms fed on him till he died. A few days after his burial, wild animals dug his body from the grave and feasted on it, scattering his bones over the graveyard. The head that had borne a crown was now a bare skull on the ground.

      As the traveler was pondering the meaning of what was being said, the old man continued:

      These stories illustrate human depravity, but there is also a solution. There is a stream of love in this world that gives health, joy, and peace. Those who live in this current of love (which is God) always try to do good to others and never return evil for evil.

      There was once a widow who, after mourning the death of her husband, had a dispute with her sister over the distribution of the property. Finally, the widow’s sister became so angry that she took the widow’s son and abandoned him in a basket in the river. A fisherman who found the child took him home and brought him up as his own son. The boy grew into manhood. One day, while selling fish in the marketplace, he unwittingly met his mother. Though she did not recognize the young man as her son, she felt pity for him, and invited him and the old fisherman to come and live with her.

      Not

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