A. W. Tozer The Spiritual Man

Almost every Christian wants to be spiritual, but few know what the experience means. A lot of unfounded comfort would be swept away and much true consolation would be received if we could get straightened out.

It is difficult for us to shake off the notion that a man is as spiritual as he feels. Our basic spirituality seldom accords with our feelings. There are many carnal persons whose religious emotions are sensitive to every impression and who manage to keep themselves on a very high plane of inward enjoyment but who have no marks of godliness upon them. They have a low boiling point and can get heated up over almost anything religious at a moment’s notice. Their tears are close to the surface and their voices carry a world of emotion content. Such have a reputation of being spiritual and they themselves may easily believe they are. But not necessarily.

The spiritual man is indifferent to his feelings; he lives by faith in God with little care about his own emotions; he thinks God’s thoughts and sees things as God sees them. he rejoices in Christ and has no confidence in himself and is more concerned with obedience than with happiness. This is less romantic maybe but stands the test of time.

A. W. Tozer The Spiritual Man is from Alliance Weekly 5 December 1951

A.W. Tozer Men, Our Most Critical Need

The most critical need of the Church at this moment is men, the right kind of men, bold men.

The talk is that we need revival, that we need a new baptism of the Holy Spirit – and God knows we must have both–but God will not revive mice. He will not fill rabbits with the Holy Spirit.

We languish for men who feel themselves expendable in the warfare of the soul, who cannot be frightened by threats of death because they have already died to the allurements of this world.

Such men will be free from the compulsions that control weaker men. They will not be forced to do things by the squeeze of circumstances. Their only compulsion will come from within – or from above.

This kind of freedom is necessary if we are to have prophets in our pulpits again instead of mascots. These free men will serve God and mankind from motives too high to be understood by the rank and file of religious retainers who today shuttle in and out of the sanctuary. They will make no decisions out of fear, take no course out of a desire to please, accept no service for financial considerations, perform no religious acts out of mere custom, nor allow themselves to be influenced by the love of publicity or the desire for reputation.

Much that the church – even the evangelical church -is doing today, it is doing because it is afraid not to do it. Ministerial associations take up projects for no higher reasons than that they are scared into it. Whatever their ear-to-the-ground, fear-inspired reconnoitering leads them to believe (or fear) the world expects them to do, they will be doing come next Monday morning with all kinds of trumped-up zeal and show of godliness. The pressure of public opinion calls these prophets, not the voice of Jehovah.

The true church has never sounded out public expectations before launching its crusades. Her leaders heard from God and went ahead wholly independent of popular support or the lack of it. They knew their Lord’s will and did it and their people followed them – sometimes to triumph, but more often to insults and public persecution – and their sufficient reward was the satisfaction of being right in a wrong world.

Another characteristic of the true prophet has been love. The free man who has learned to hear God’s voice and dared to obey it has felt the moral burden that broke the hearts of the Old Testament prophets, crushed the soul of our Lord Jesus Christ, and wrung streams of tears from the eyes of the apostles.

The free man has never been a religious tyrant, nor has he sought to lord it over God’s heritage. It is fear and lack of self-assurance that has led men to try to bring others under their feet. They have had some interest to protect, some position to secure, so they have demanded subjection from their followers as a guarantee of their own safety. But the free man – never; he has nothing to protect, no ambition to pursue and no enemy to fear. For that reason he is completely careless of his standing among men. If they follow him, well and good. If not, he loses nothing that he holds dear. But whether he is accepted or rejected, he will go on loving his people with sincere devotion, and only death can silence his tender intercession for them.

Yes, if evangelical Christianity is to stay alive under the twin threats of Catholicism and Communism, she must repudiate the weaklings who dare not speak out, and she must seek in prayer and much humility the coming again of men of the stuff of which prophets and martyrs are made. God will hear the cries of His people as He heard the cries of Israel in Egypt, and He will send deliverance by sending deliverers. It is His way among men.

And when the deliverers come – reformers, revivalists, prophets – they will be men of God and men of courage. They will have God on their side because they are careful to stay on God’s side. They will be co-workers with Christ and instruments in the hands of the Holy Ghost. Such men will be baptized with the Spirit indeed and through their labors He will baptize others and send the long-delayed revival.

A.W. Tozer Men, Our Most Critical Need from Alliance Weekly 05 December 1951

A. W. Tozer We Must Die If We Would Live

“Let me die… lest I die… only let me see Thy face.” That was the prayer of St. Augustine.

“Hide not Thy face from me,” he cried in an agony of desire. “Oh! that I might repose on Thee. Oh! that Thou wouldst enter into my heart, and inebriate it, that I may forget my ills, and embrace Thee, my sole good.”

This longing to die, to get our opaque form out of the way so that it might not hide from us the lovely face of God, is one that is instantly understood by the hungry-hearted believer. To die that we might not die! There is no contradiction here, for there are before us two kinds of dying, a dying to be sought and a dying to be avoided at any cost.

To Augustine the sight of God inwardly enjoyed was life itself and anything less than that was death. To exist in total eclipse under the shadow of nature without the realized Presence was a condition not to be tolerated. Whatever hid God’s face from him must be taken out of the way, even his own self-love, his dearest ego, his most cherished treasures. So he prayed, “Let me die.”

The great saints daring prayer was heard and, as might he expected, was answered with a fullness of generosity characteristic of God. He died the kind of death to which Paul testified: “I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” His life and ministry continued and his presence is always there, in his books, in the church, in history; but wondrous as it may be, he is strangely transparent; his own personality is scarcely seen, while the light of Christ shines through with a kind of healing splendor.

There have been those who have thought that to get themselves out of the way it was necessary to withdraw from society; so they denied all natural human relationships and went into the desert or the mountain or the hermit’s cell to fast and labor and struggle to mortify their flesh. While their motive was good it is impossible to commend their method. For it is not scriptural to believe that the old Adam nature can be conquered in that manner. It is altogether too tough to be killed by abusing the body or starving the affections. It yields to nothing less than the cross.

In every Christian’s heart there is a cross and a throne, and the Christian is on the throne till he puts himself on the cross; if he refuses the cross he remains on the throne. Perhaps this is at the bottom of the backsliding and worldliness among gospel believers today. We want to be saved but we insist that Christ do all the dying. No cross for us, no dethronement, no dying. We remain king within the little kingdom of Mansoul and wear our tinsel crown with all the pride of a Caesar; but we doom ourselves to shadows and weakness and spiritual sterility.

If we will not die then we must die, and that death will mean the forfeiture of many of those everlasting treasures which the saints have cherished. Our uncrucified flesh will rob us of purity of heart, Christ-likeness of character, spiritual insight, fruitfulness; and more than all, it will hide from us the vision of God’s face, that vision which has been the light of earth and will be the completeness of heaven.

A. W. Tozer We Must Die If We Would Live is from Alliance Weekly 28 November 1951

A. W. Tozer The Use And Abuse Of Humor

Few things are as useful in the Christian life as a gentle sense of humor and few things are as deadly as a sense of humor out of control.

Many lose the race of life through frivolity. Paul is careful to warn us. He says plainly that the Christian’s characteristic mood should not be one of jesting and foolish talking but rather one of thanksgiving (Eph. 5:1-5). It is significant that in this passage the apostle classifies levity along with uncleanness, covetousness and idolatry.

Now obviously an appreciation of the humorous is not an evil in itself. When God made us He included a sense of humor as a built-in feature, and the normal human being will possess this gift in some degree at least. The source of humor is ability to perceive the incongruous. Things out of focus appear funny to us and may stir within us a feeling of amusement that will break into laughter.

Dictators and fanatics have no sense of humor. Hitler never knew how funny he looked, nor did Mussolini know how ridiculous he sounded as he solemnly mouthed his bombastic phrases. The religious fanatic will look upon situations so comical as to excite uncontrollable mirth in normal persons and see nothing amusing in them. This blind spot in his make-up prevents him from seeing how badly his own life and beliefs are out of focus. And just so far as he is blind to the incongruous he is abnormal; he is not quite as God meant him to be.

Humor is one thing, but frivolity is quite another. Cultivation of a spirit that can take nothing seriously is one of the great curses of society, and within the church it has worked to prevent much spiritual blessing that otherwise would have descended upon us. We have all met those people who will not be serious. They meet everything with a laugh and a funny remark. This is bad enough in the world, but positively intolerable among Christians.

Let us not allow a perverted sense of humor to ruin us. Some things are funny, and we may well laugh sometimes. But sin isn’t funny; death isn’t funny. There is nothing funny about a world tottering upon the brink of destruction; nothing funny about war and the sight of boys dying in blood upon the field of battle; nothing funny about the millions who perish each year without ever having heard the gospel of love.

It is time that we draw a line between the false and the true, between the things that are incidental and the things that are vital. Lots of things we can afford to let pass with a smile. But when humor takes religion as the object of its fun it is no longer natural—it is sinful and should be denounced for what it is and avoided by everyone who desires to walk with God.

Innumerable lectures have been delivered, songs sung and books written exhorting us to meet life with a grin and to laugh so the world can laugh with us; but let us remember that however jolly we Christians may become, the devil is not fooling. He is cold-faced and serious, and we shall find at last that he was playing for keeps. If we who claim to be followers of the Lamb will not take things seriously, Satan will, and he is wise enough to use our levity to destroy us.

We might add here that we are not arguing for unnatural solemnity; I see no value in gloom and no harm in a good laugh. My plea is for a great seriousness which will put us in mood with the Son of Man and with the prophets and apostles of the Scriptures. The joy of the Lord can become the music of our hearts and the cheerfulness of the Holy Spirit will tune the harps within us. Then we may attain that moral happiness which is one of the marks of true spirituality, and also escape the evil effects of unseemly humor.

A. W. Tozer The Use And Abuse Of Humor is from Alliance Weekly 14 November 1951

A. W. Tozer Narrow Mansions

Any list of the spiritually great must include Augustine, Bishop of Hippo. A hundred informed men who might vote on who were the mightiest Christians since Paul would be likely to differ widely, but it is safe to assume that every one of them would mention Augustine. So great was he, intellectually and spiritually.

The ages have known how great a Christian Augustine was, but apparently he himself did not know. At the beginning of his famous devotion work, the Confessions, he says, “Narrow is the mansion of any soul; enlarge Thou it, that Thou mayest enter in.” This was spoken in utter sincerity, and it may give us a hint of the secret of his greatness.

Augustine’s vision of God was so tremendous that his own little capacity to receive seemed to him intolerably restricted. God was to him so vast, so worldfilling, that no temple could contain Him, no shrine enclose Him. He fills heaven and the heaven of heavens, and the world itself is too mall to receive Him. And when Augustine looked within his own heart he saw only narrowness and constriction; and it made him sick. “Enlarge Thou it!” was the involuntary cry of his soul.

How vastly different is this from the self-satisfied spirit we see everywhere these days. To be saved appears to be the highest ambition of most Christians today. To have eternal life and know it is the highest aspiration of many. Here they begin and here thy end. Around this one theme they build their narrow temples, and in these cramped confines they sing their congratulatory songs and offer their cheery thanks.

The widest thing in the universe is not space; it is the potential capacity of the human heart. Being made in the image of God it is capable of almost unlimited extension in all directions. And one of the world’s worst tragedies is that we allow our hearts to shrink until there is room for little beside ourselves. Wordsworth lamented the fact that as we get older our world grows smaller and the “light that never was on land or sea” dims slowly down and goes out at last.

Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison house begin to close
Upon the growing boy.
But he behold the light and whence it flows.

At length the man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.

Of all persons Christians should have the largest hearts; to them the narrowing of the heart should be an unthinkable calamity. They should seek for inner enlargement till their outward dimension gives no hint of the vastness within. To be great outwardly and small with in is a kind of hypocrisy, but the modesty that hides a spacious interior under a simple exterior must be most pleasing to God.

One of the most stinging criticisms made against Christians is that their minds are narrow and their hearts small. Most of this is probably unfair and untrue, but that it can be made at all is sufficient cause for serious heart searching and prayer. Godliness suggests godlikeness, and to be Godlike is certainly to be magnanimous. God enfolds the world in His heart and contains the created universe. Restricted sympathies make us unlike God, and the bravest thing we can do is to admit it. Nothing is so futile as trying to defend our moral introversion against the sharp eyes of the world. We should remove the ground of the criticism rather than deny it.

Paul was a little man with a vast interior life; his great heart was often wounded by the narrowness of his disciples. The Christians at Corinth especially gave him much pain because of their inward constrictions. The sight of their shrunken souls hurt him too much, and he once burst out in a cry of mingled indignation and love,”our mouth is open unto you, O Corinthians,our heart is enlarged. Ye are not straitened in us, but ye are straitened in your own afflictions. Now for a recompense in like kind (I speak as unto my children), b ye also enlarged” (2 Cor 6:11-13 R.V.).

If any wonder how they can enlarge their hearts we hasten to tell them that they cannot do it. Paul said, “Be ye also enlarged,” but he did not say, “Enlarge yourselves.” That they could not do. Only God can work in the heart. The Architect and builder of the soul alone can build it anew after the cyclone of sin has gone over it and left only one small room standing.

We may expect a wondrous enlargement if we surrender our hearts to God and ask Him to begin to work within us. And who knows what He can do if we take our hands off and let Him work? “How knowest thou what nobility God has bestowed on human nature,” asks Meister Eckhart, “what perfections yet uncatalogued, aye, ye undiscovered?

And one singular characteristic of the enlarging life is that it is quietly unaware of itself. The largest heart is likely to be heart praying, “Narrow is the mansion of my soul. Enlarge Thou it.”

A. W. Tozer Narrow Mansions is from Alliance Weekly 31 October 1951

A. W. Tozer Autumn Winds Are Blowing Again

Autumn Winds Are Blowing Again is from Alliance Weekly 17 October 1951

The fall of the year brings with it a world of emotions as rich and varied as the notes of an organ. The spring is more stimulating and fuller of expectation, but there is about the fall a quiet strength which the spring lacks. It is not a wonder that so many serious-minded people love the fall,

“When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,
And winkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill.”

To the farmer the first signs of autumn bring a warm sense of well-being. He no longer wonders whether his crops will turn out well. The full shocks of corn, the yellow pumpkins smiling between the, the high-piled hay mows and the full silos assure him that God’s summer has been good to him and his work has been rewarded.

It’s about this time of year, too, that a goodly number of men become strangely affected and begin to look off across the fields with an eager light in their eyes. For hunting season will soon be in, and the sound of gunfire and the baying of dogs will make sweet music over the hills and across the meadows. Not everyone hears this call out of the blue mists and the briar patches, but those who do need no one to interpret. They respond like the wild duck to the migratory instinct. After the first few days of absent-mindedness they may be seen searching about for their old hunting coat or carefully polishing up thier favorite gun, while the smell of fine oil mingles with the fragrance of burning leaves everywhere.

That’s the fall for some people. And who would say that it’s not good? Maybe it’s one of the few innocent things left in the world now

The womenfolk are not likely to be affected these fall days the same as the men, but neither can they wholly escape the spell of autumn. In the country the landscape is afire with color as the oak and the maple put on their last display of beauty before they go to sleep for the long winter. And those women who live pent-up in great cities may still enjoy something of the wonder of nature, if in nothing else than the sight of asters in the park or in a touch of goldenrod along the path in some chance vacant lot between the buildings.

We are not much given to moralizing on natural objects, but who can fail to notice the parallel between God’s great lovely world and the little tribes of flesh and blood who inhabit it? Is it not plain that every human being runs through the same stages as the seasons? Spring, the time of childhood and youth when all the world is big with promise, a promise which the later years invariably fail to keep. Summer, the period of full power when life multiplies and it is hard to believe that it can ever end. Autumn, with its repose after toil, a gracious tapering off of our fuller powers, a kindly preparation for our longer rest. Winter, when the leaves have dropped away and the last sign of life has disappeared. Then only faith remains to assure us that there will be for us a bright tomorrow.

To the man out of Christ, the fall of the year, in spite of its many charms, must surely bring with it a deep and hidden terror. For it speaks of the approaching end, the time when it may be said, “The summer is ended, and we are not saved.” It would be good indeed if the autumn winds could preach to the lost soul of the brevity of life and the long winter ahead.

The true Christian will not be saddened by the winds that herald the approach of winter. Like the wise ant he has made his preparation, and while the gusty tempest howls over him, he will sleep sweet in Christ while the circle of the heavens moves on toward the consummation of all things of which Moses and the prophets have spoken.

Happy man who knows that everything is well with him and that he will be among the blessed in that day when the breath of Jesus, like a breeze of spring, shall stir the sleeping dead to life again after the long night.

A. W. Tozer Autumn Winds Are Blowing Again is from Alliance Weekly 17 October 1951

A. W. Tozer True Service

Any serious-minded Christian may at some time find himself wondering whether the service he is giving to God is the best it could be. He may even have times of doubting, and fear that his toil is fruitless and his life empty.

This is not as bad as it sounds, and may actually prove to be an excellent thing for him–if he knows how to use it.

Christian service, like every other phase of religion, can become a very hollow affair. The church has marked out certain work and approved it as service acceptable to God, and for the most part the church has been right. But it should be kept in mind that it is not the kind or quantity of work that makes it true service–it is the quality.

Before the judgment seat of Christ, very little will be heard of numbers or size; moral quality is about all that will matter then. If we are wise we will give attention now to the quality of our service; it is obvious that it will be too late to do anything about it when the service is ended and the account rendered up.

The great weight of exhortation these days is in the direction of zeal and activity. “Let’s get going” is the favorite watchword for gospel workers, with the result that everyone feels ashamed to sit down and think. But it will pay to do it, nevertheless.

It would be a shock to most of us to learn just what God thinks of our breathless activity, and a greater shock to many to find out the true quality of our service as God sees it. For not all religious activity is accepted of God, not even when it appears to produce results and get things done. The Lord seeth not as man seeth.

Christian service, to be accepted of God, must be fresh and sincere. Whatever is done out of habit is not approved; anything done in a perfunctory manner is below the level of quality expected of us. The careless song, the sermon preached for no higher reason than because it is Sunday again, the tithe tossed into the plate, the testimony given because it seems the thing to do–not one of these will stand up under the searching eyes of God.
In Christian service motive is everything, for it is motive that gives to every moral act its final quality.

A. W. Tozer True Service is from Alliance Weekly 10 October 1951

A. W. Tozer Who Is In Debt To Whom?

The life Ideal was described by the apostle in the Book of Acts: “For David, after he had served his own generation by the will of God, fell on sleep.”

We submit that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to improve upon this. It embraces the whole sphere of religion, appearing as it does in its three directions: God, the individual, society. Within that simple triangle all possible human activities are carried on. To each of us there can be but these three dimensions: God, myself, others. Beyond this we cannot go, nor should we even attempt to go. If we serve God according to His own will, and in doing so serve our generation, we shall have accomplished all that is possible for any human being.

David was smart enough to serve God and his generation before he fell asleep. To fall asleep before we have served our generation is nothing short of tragic. It is good to sleep at last, as all our honored fathers have done, but it is a moral calamity to sleep without having first labored to bless the world. No man has any right to die until he has put mankind in debt to him. No man has any moral right to lie down on the earth till he has wrought to take something of the earth out of the hearts of men, till he has helped to free men from the tyranny of that same earth and pointed them to that kingdom that will abide after the heavens and the earth are no more.

David’s religion had social implications, but he was no mere do-gooder, no patcher-upper of the world’s hurts. All his service was rendered according to the will of God. It was the divine quality in his ministry that made it immortal. Many good deeds may be done whose final effects will not be lasting. A sick man laboring to cure the ills of another sick man may be a moving sight, but it can hardly be a reassuring one, for both will die at last. But the service that can bring the healing touch of God into human life is infinitely to be preferred to any other. It is the will of God that brings eternity into human toil.

We should remember that if we are to serve our generation we must get at it right away, for our generation will not be around long. Isaac Watts wrote:

Time, like an ever rolling stream
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

A great woe in the heart of Dr. Simpson was the number of persons who died each day. he could never quite get free from the terrible thought that his generation was passing away, for the most part unevangelized. One would need to go far and find anything so deeply affecting, so solemn, so awesome and wonderful as the chorus of his Missionary Cry, “They’re passing, passing fast away, in thousands day by day.” The grief of the Holy Ghost is in it.

We are all born in debt to the world, and that debt increases as we grow older. If we are wise in the Spirit, we shall see to it that we turn the tables and put the world in debt to us. This we can do only by serving our generation by the will of God before it is too late.

A. W. Tozer Who Is In Debt To Whom? is from Alliance Weekly 10 October 1951

A. W. Tozer It Will Not Go Away

A droll bit of advice sometimes given to persons who are being bothered by some disagreeable problem is, “Let it alone and it will go away by itself.” While the words are usually intended to be humorous, they express, better than many more serious words would do, an unfortunate habit which is altogether too prevalent among us. It is the habit of neglecting spiritual questions in the vague hope that they will stop bothering us and go away of themselves.

We all come into the world with one tremendous question facing us, the question of our relation to the God from whose hand we came. None of the heavy problems propounded by philosophy can equal this one in vital significance and solemn meaning for the individual man. So important is it that it may properly be said that no other question really exists at all till this one has been settled. And it will not settle itself; it must be settled by each one of us personally and individually. lf we ignore it, it will not go away. It will be there to haunt us in the last day we spend on earth, and it will be there to face us in the day of judgment when it is too late to do anything about it.

The question is not a philosophical one merely; it is not even a theological one. It is strictly personal. The deceitful human heart would like only too well to involve it in the fog of doctrinal argument and thus rob it of its real meaning. That is a common way to deal with it, but it is never a satisfactory way. The question will come back again out of the fog to demand a true answer, that is, a moral answer.

Two questions are embraced within the one problem: What shall I do with my sin? and what shall I do with Jesus which is called Christ? In spite of every effort of the pseudo-learned world to dispose of the sin question, it remains still, a perennial heartache to the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. It is one of those persistent pains that lies deep in the soul and never quite stops hurting. It just won’t go away. The devil and the busy sons of men have sought throughout the centuries for something to make this problem go away. They have invented how many thousands of amusements, they have created innumerable pleasures to take the mind off its central woe; but nothing works. Sin is still the world’s first problem.

The second question, What shall I do with Jesus? is the answer to the first one, for Jesus came to save men from their sins. Let us answer the second one rightly and the first one will be solved automatically. If we but come to Jesus with our sin upon us and without any hope except His mercy, we shall surely be delivered from the ancient curse. But remember, sin demands an answer. It won’t just go away. It must be carried away by redeeming blood, and redeeming blood was never shed by any other lamb except the Lamb of God.

A. W. Tozer It Will Not Go Away is from Alliance Weekly 3 October 1951

A. W. Tozer Convention Or Crusade?

Such a fast hold does inertia have upon almost everything religious that it takes a powerful and sudden attack by determined forces to move anything. It takes something like a crusade to get anything done these days. The principle of laissez faire is so firmly implanted in all of us that something in the nature of an earthquake is needed to jar us loose and start us on the right way.

It is an illuminating experience to read the history of the great spiritual movements that have blessed the world over the last 2,000 years. Scarely any of these began quietly; almost always they struck the earth with the suddenness of a cyclone. We have only to mention a few to prove our point: the ministry of John the Baptist, the appearance of Jesus Christ with His miracles, Pentecost, the Reformation, the Wesleyan revivals, the Great Awakening, revivals in Wales, in Korea, the strange and wonderful work under the Prophet Harris in Africa–the list is long.

These movements struck with the unexpectedness of lightning and found people without a defense against them. Methodism, for instance moved with the speed of a forest fire and took on the character of a crusade. The Christian and Missionary Alliance, though on a much smaller scale, had something of the crusader spirit about it. The spiritual certainty within the hearts of a select few became so white-hot that it set others on fire around it and started an unplanned movement toward a return to New Testament standards and the deeper things of the Spirit.

History shows another fact also: When the first heat of the originators of great movements had spent itself after their death, immediately another spirit entered and took over – it was the spirit of conventionalism. It retained the outward form of the orginal movement but lost all the inward heat. The movement ceased to move; its adherents gained popularity and lost power; the apocalyptic quality of its message disappeared; its new teachers set about to make its teaching acceptable to Christendom – and their success became at last their greatest tragedy.

It is a lamentable fact that the crusading spirit is almost wholly lost to the Deeper Life branches of the church. Modern crusaders are for the most part no more than high octane proselyters operating down on a level far below New Testament plateaus. They make all the noise and get all the notice, while hungry-hearted saints shake their heads in discouragement and wait for-what?

A. W. Tozer Convention Or Crusade?” is from Alliance Weekly 3 October 1951