It was Sabbath afternoon-- our last Sabbath on Paata-- and we were walking through a neighboring village to visit some friends we hadn’t seen yet. I remember this village well from when we lived here before. It always had a dark, depressed feeling about it, but today it was worse than ever. As we walked through the village, we passed group after group of people who were intoxicated in one way or another. It was painful to see such pitiful demoralization, but what was even more painful was to see, in those clouded faces, the faces of the once-innocent children we grew up around. As we walked, I thought of the terrible environment they had to grow up in, and it seemed almost hopeless. Can anything good come out of this village-- this island? Then another thought crept into my mind-- They said that about His village… Oh, Lord! Is this what You came to for me?
I looked at the village again-- sin in its darkest hue was everywhere I turned. But this time I looked at it with awe and gratitude, because it began to dawn on me what He really came to for me.
“Jesus did not count heaven a place to be desired while we were lost. He left the heavenly courts for a life of reproach and insult, and a death of shame. He who was rich in heaven's priceless treasure, became poor, that through His poverty we might be rich. --DA 416
The same thought gives hope to the darkest corner of the world, because it was from Nazareth, a village “proverbial for its wickedness" that the Light of the world came.
“Measure the cord, if you can, that has been let down from heaven to lift man up. The only estimate we can give you of the length of that chain is to point you to Calvary.” --OHC 45