Perhaps some of you think I am getting off my subject.  I am not; I am talking now about the old man, Uncle Sam, and his mission in the world.

It is the opinion of many that we are under no obligation to the islands of the sea, but these conservative souls should not forget that we are not only citizens of the United States, but of the globe on which we dwell and of the universe of God.  The world in which we live, lives because of the light and heat it receives from other worlds.  If the rolling sun in the heavens is under obligation to furnish light for our pathway, heat for our soil and warmth for our blood, are we not under obligation to carry the light of civilization to the people whose shores and ours are washed by the same waters?  If the full orbed moon is under obligation to pour its silver into our nights, and lift the tides until our rivers are full, are not we under obligation to lift the tide of hope in the heart of oppressed humanity, and pour the light of intelligence into the night of ignorance?  Did God give us this grand country, with its boundless resources, for us to draw our ocean skirts about our greatness and pass by our bruised and bleeding neighbor, lying half dead on life’s Jericho road?  If so, then call back our proud eagle of liberty from its pinion flight through the skies of national achievement, and make our national emblem the barnyard fowl that crows in the day dawn as if creating light instead of noise, and then runs for his roost when the shadows fall.

The Bible says we are fellow workers with God.  What does this fellowship imply?  It means there are some things we can’t do, which God must do for us, and some things we can do He won’t do for us.  He puts the coal in the earth; we must dig and blast it out.  He puts oil beneath the soil; we must bore into its wells and pump it out.  He gives us the earth and “the fullness thereof;” we must do the sowing and reaping.  He puts electricity in the air; we must bridle, saddle and harness it.  He empties the clouds into the basins of the earth and gives us oceans, gulfs and lakes; but we must build boats to ride them.  He puts humanity on the earth and bids us love our neighbor as ourselves.

Who is my neighbor?  Some seem to think only those who live in our immediate community.  I read of a minister of a city church who called upon one of his country members for a contribution for foreign missionary work.  The country brother said:  “I don’t believe in foreign missions, and I must say, ’No’.”

“Brother,” the pastor said, “the Bible says you should love your neighbor as yourself.”

“I do love my neighbors.”

“Who are your neighbors?”

“Those whose farms adjoin mine, and perhaps, those whose farms adjoin theirs.”

“How far do you own eastward?”

“To the third fence yonder.”

“How far do you own toward the west?”

“About a half mile?”