During the Reign of Terror of the French Revolution, one morning’s executions began with three men: a rabbi, a Catholic priest, and a rationalist skeptic.
The rabbi was marched up onto the platform first. There, facing the guillotine, he was asked if he had any last words. And the rabbi cried out, “I believe in the one and only true God, and He shall save me.” The executioner then positioned the rabbi below the blade, set the block above his neck, and pulled the cord to set the terrible instrument in motion. The heavy cleaver plunged downward, searing the air. But then, abruptly, it stopped with a crack just a few inches above the would-be victim’s neck. To which the rabbi said, “I told you so.”
“It’s a miracle!” gasped the crowd. And the executioner had to agree, letting the rabbi go.
Next in line was the priest. Asked for his final words, he declared, “I believe in Jesus Christ — the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost — who will rescue me in my hour of need.” The executioner then positioned this man beneath the blade. And he pulled the cord. Again the blade flew downward — thump! creak! — stopping just short of its mark once more.
“Another miracle!” sighed the disappointed crowd. And the executioner for the second time had no choice but to let the condemned go free.
Now it was the skeptic’s turn. “What final words have you to say?” he was asked. But the skeptic didn’t hear. Staring intently at the ominous engine of death, he seemed lost. Not until the executioner poked him in the ribs and the question was asked again did he reply. “Oh, I see your problem,” the skeptic said pointing. “You’ve got a blockage in the gear assembly, right there!”
