E. Stanley Jones once told a story about a custom of the people on the Island of Formosa hundreds of years ago to offer human sacrifices. A kindly emperor, however, by the name of Goho, changed all that. According to his law, only animals, not humans, were to be sacrificed. But there was a terrible drought and the crops failed altogether. Once again the people clamored for a human sacrifice. “Very well,” said Goho, “tomorrow morning at dawn go into the forest and find your victim for sacrifice. He will be tied to a tree and wearing a red robe. Strike him for he is your sacrifice.”

Early in the morning the men rose with their clubs and found things to be just as Goho said. There was the sacrifice tied to a tree and wearing a red robe. They rushed forward and slew him. When they pulled the robe and uncovered the face, they were horrified to see it was Goho, their own beloved emperor. By his death, Goho was able to do what his law could never do; change the hearts and minds of his people forever. Never again were human sacrifices offered. And on Formosa, the red robe became a symbol of a changed life. Men discarded their dingy robes and put on red ones as if to say, “I am Goho’s person.” They became known as persons of the robe.

That’s who we are friends. Persons of the robe.