Keruba was a highway robber and a murderer. He was leader of a band of brigands, who terrified a whole district in India, in the days before the English came to that country. They soon put an end to the lawless ways of the robbers.
Keruba found himself deserted by his old friends and alone; but more than that, his conscience, though he was a heathen, began to reproach him with the murders he had committed. In the night, dreams terrified him, and by day, remorse tormented him. He began to try to get rid of his sins, as most men do who feel that they are sinners, and know not the Lord’s grace. He would give to the poor, leaving himself barely enough to live upon; he would pass days and nights prostrate in the temples before the idols, he tortured himself in every way. The ignorant heathen around, who knew not his former history, thought him a saint, and fell down before him to worship him. But his conscience was still uneasy.
One day, he was in a town for some great heathen ceremony, when he was attracted by the sound of a little bell, quite unlike those used in the heathen temples. He asked what it was. He was told that it was calling people to a Christian service. As he had never before heard of Christians, he decided to go and see for himself.
Presently, the preacher gave out the text: “The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.” Keruba fixed his whole attention on the words the preacher was saying; he never took his eyes off him, the “words of life” were so new and strange to him. When the people had gone, Keruba waited to speak to the preacher.
“Is all you said quite true?” said he.
“Certainly, for God Himself says so.”
“You said, sir, that the blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin. Can that blood cleanse the stain of murder?”
“Yes, it can. If the murderer believes in the Lord Jesus, God declares that whosoever believeth in Him shall receive remission of sins.”
“Well, sir, but if a man had committed two murders, do you think it possible for him to be forgiven?” “Yes, he can be forgiven!”
“And five murders?”
“Yes, even five.”
“But supposing he had killed ten innocent people,” asked Keruba, with intense anxiety.”
“God can forgive and blot out ten murders.”
“But, sir, supposing he had committed twenty murders.”
“God can forgive twenty murders, for Jesus Christ’s sake.”
“Then He shall be my God,” said Keruba, his eyes filling with tears, which ran down his hard cheeks.
“O God,” he continued, “have pity on me, for I have killed twenty innocent persons! Sir, will He pardon me, even me?”
The Christian preacher listened to his confession of guilt, and to his account of self-torture. He wept with him and told him of the love of Jesus.
“Now,” said Keruba, “I have found the Lamb of God. You say He died for me. I feel in my heart that this is the truth.”
They knelt and gave thanks together. When Keruba rose, the load of sin and guilt he had so long been carrying, was gone. He went back to his friends, and told them what great things the Lord had done for him.
They were astonished at his words, and even more at the riant expression of his countenance. Many believed, and came to Jesus for salvation.
Keruba spent the rest of his life in seeking to gain worshippers for Jesus!
The hart panteth after the waters,
The dying, for life that departs;
The Lord in His glory for sinners,
For the love of rebellious hearts.
Call back all the days of the ages,
All raindrops come down from above;
All flowers of summers departed,
But think not to measure His love.
ML 03/31/1968