out that word "look," with his whole life an index finger pointing to
Jesus. If we might be like that. Every man of us may be in his life, in
the great unconscious influence of his presence, a clearly lettered
signpost pointing men to the Master. All true service begins in personal
contact with Jesus. One cannot know Him personally without catching the
warm contagion of His spirit for others. And there is a fine fragrance, a
gentle, soft warmth, about the service that grows out of being with Him.

The beginning of John's contact with Jesus that day, and Andrew's, was in
looking. Their friend the herald bid them look. They found him looking.
They did as he was doing. Following the line of his eyes, and of his
teaching too, and of his life, they looked at Jesus. And as they looked
the sight of their eyes began to control them. They left John and
quickened their pace to get nearer to this Man at whom they were looking.
There never was a finer tribute to a man's faithfulness to his Master than
is found in these men leaving John. They could not help going. They had
been led by John into the circle of Jesus' attractive power. And at once
they are irresistibly drawn toward its center.

The basis of the truest devotion and deepest loyalty to Jesus is not in a
creed but in Himself. There must be creeds. Whatever a man believes is of
course his creed. Though as quickly as he puts it into words he narrows
it. Truth is always more than any statement of it. Faith is always greater
than our words about it. We do not see Jesus with our outer eyes as did
these men in the Gospel narrative. We cannot put out our hands in any such
way as Thomas did and know by the feel. We must listen first to somebody
telling about Him.

We listen either with eyes on the Book, or ears open to some faithful
mutual friend of His and ours. What we hear either way is a creed,