The Value of Easter Day

 " An angel rolled away the stone, and sat upon it." Matthew 28:2.

       Surely the angel of Easter morning did a superfluous piece of work! To roll away the stone of the sepulchre was a very important thing; but to sit upon it afterward - surely that was a useless task! Is it not a lame and impotent conclusion to a great deed! We should have expected the Easter angel, after rolling away the stone, to have been described as winging his way "beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb." But, when we are called to see him sitting on the old gravestone, is that poetry, is that beauty? Yes - the grandest poetry, the most subtle beauty. It is a far finer image than would have been depicted in the angel flying home. It is not enough that the stone of my grief should be rolled away; it must be glorified. Many a sorrow, when it passes away, leaves soreness behind. It is no longer the place of my tribulation to-day, but it was the place of my tribulation yesterday. I weep over my yesterday; I need something to explain my yesterday. To-day has been glorified; I want yesterday to be glorified too. I want to see the angel in the place where my old sorrow lay- on the stone of my former sepulchre. The glory of Easter morning is that it brightens past mornings. It tells me that what I called death was never there. It throws a light upon the ancient graves. It answers the long-repeated question, ''To what purpose is this waste?" It dispels my complaining over the vanished years. It dries my tears shed for the shortness of human life. It vindicates the past justice of my Father.

       Lord of Easter Day, let me see the angel on the gravestone! I cannot see Thy rising; I am born too late for that. But on every gravestone Thou hast left an angel sitting; the stone has itself become radiant. I used to cry for a chariot of fire to bear me beyond death. The chariot comes not, but the angel at the grave is better; he makes the cloud of death itself Thy chariot. Reveal to me that angel at the grave! Give me a view of death as a hallowed thing! It has long been to me the king of terrors; my gravestone has held a spectre. Take away the spectre, and put an angel there! If I saw an angel on the stone, I do not think I should need to see it rolled away. When I was a child I would have abolished the thunder; I thought it was the voice of disorder in the world. I would not abolish it now; I know it is the rhythm of Thine own voice. What has made the change? It is the presence of the angel. The thunder has not been rolled away, but it has ceased to be to me a discord; it has become a chord of Thy music. So is it with death this Easter morning! An angel sits upon the former spot of gloom! Thou hast glorified my pain of yesterday! Thou hast exalted my valley of humiliation! Thou hast peopled my desert of silence! Thou hast lighted my path of despair! Thou hast put the myrtle where the briar grew, the fir tree where the thorn grew! The stone of the sepulchre is not less heavy; but the weight of affliction has become a weight of glory.

The Burden In Heaven

 "For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life." 2 Corinthians 5: 4.

       "Not for that we would be unclothed."  I understand Paul to mean ''not that we would be unclothed of our burdens in the future world." And this is a very strange saying. Paul is comparing earth with heaven. He says, '' In this tabernacle we groan, being burdened." We expect him to add, "when we get to heaven we shall make up for it by a life of ease." On the contrary, he says the advantage of heaven will be that we shall be able to hear our burdens, '' mortality shall be swallowed up of life." The burden which is a hindrance here will cease to be a hindrance there. Why does not Paul rather want to get rid of it altogether - to be unclothed of it? Because he sees a use for it yonder. I remember when I was minister of Innellan attending the last hours of a little deformed girl. She had been a lifelong invalid. She had borne years of pain with the most extraordinary patience. I asked her, in wonder, how she could bear so bravely. I expected her to answer, "I weep now; I shall laugh yet" - '' I go on foot now; I shall have a carriage yet " - " I have poor raiment now; I shall wear diamonds yet." Instead of that, she said, "O sir! you know I am training to be a ministering spirit." That little girl had seen the bridal of the earth and sky - the marriage supper of the Lamb.

       For indeed, my soul, what thou needest is not an unclothing of thy burden; it is that thy burden should be swallowed up in the life of love. Why has thy Father given thee a burden here? To make thee long for the beauty of heaven? A burden is a bad preparation for beauty. If Heaven is exclusively a place of flowers, thou shouldst be in the garden now. Why art thou not now in the garden? It is because thou art not training for a garden. Thou art training to be a ministering spirit. That is why God does not unclothe thee of thy heavy garments. The heavy garments are the fashion up yonder - only, they no longer oppress. God would not diminish thy load; He would strengthen thine arm. There will be more weights to carry in heaven than on earth. Wouldst thou enter into the joy of thy Lord? The joy of thy Lord is burden-bearing. He began by feeling the heaviness of the vesture; but love made it a garment of praise; and now His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Thou shalt not need to be divested of thy care when thou shalt enter into the joy, into the sympathy, of Jesus.

The Pain That Is Divine

 "Every branch that beareth fruit, He purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit." John 15: 2.

       Man commonly inflicts suffering upon unpromising objects; the greatest criminal gets the heaviest sentence. But the penalties which God inflicts are upon the lives of promise, and because their promise gives hope of amendment. Two boys are brought before you, both convicted of lying. The one has been false all his life; the other has never lied before. You will probably decide to punish the first more severely. God's decision is the opposite. Instead of two boys, the passage takes its illustration from two branches. The one bears nothing; the other bears less than it ought to do. You would think the former would be treated more drastically. No, it is the latter. The former is simply removed from contact; the latter is subjected to severe discipline. Why? Because the penalties of God are proportionate not to the sin but to the promise. And, in pursuance of this law, our moral pain is proportionate not to the sin but to the promise. Paul suffers more inward pain than Nero - because he has more goodness in him. I never read of Nero beating on his breast and crying, ''O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from this body of death!" He had not love enough; he had not faith enough; he had not light enough. The pain of Paul came from the life higher than his own the life of the tree.

       No more, then, my brother, canst thou say with the men of old time, ''He is afflicted; therefore he must be bad." Thou wouldst be nearer the truth by the opposite sentence, "He is afflicted; therefore he must be good." In the moral world it is in fine weather that the glass falls. Be not discouraged that the glass falls; in the sphere of the heart it means not rain but sunshine. Be not dismayed although with each peak thou climbest the mist seems to deepen. Abraham never saw the mist till he began to ascend Mount Moriah. He saw it not in Egypt - where his life was really bad; only in the hour of his obedience did there come to him the call to sacrifice. Dost thou ask why Abraham was afflicted on the mount and Lot left scathless on the plain? Because Abraham was on the mount and Lot was on the plain. It is whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth; it is His light that makes thy shadow. Tremble not at the shadow, fear not when thou enterest into the cloud. It is only in thy transfiguration moments that God prepares a cloud for thee. It is only on the summit of Moriah that He bids thee yield thine offering. It is only on thy road to Canaan that He shows thee a path through the desert. The Father gives hard lessons to His promising son.

The Relation of Theism to Christianity

 "Every man therefore that hath heard and hath learned of the Father, 

cometh unto me." John 6: 45.

       The idea is that if a man believe in a personal God he ought, if he would be logical, to accept Christianity. Every man that has learned of the Father should, in strict reason, come to the Son also. There are men who call themselves Deists. They say, ''Have we not a God of nature - a God who meets the eye; why supplement that faith by a mystery?" Jesus answers "to clear away a mystery - the silence of this God of nature." The God of nature meets the eye; why does not He also meet the ear? Nature, you say, teaches you that there is a Father. It is well; but why does not that Father speak? I can understand one losing sight of a heavenly Father; but I cannot understand one having Him in sight and yet believing in His silence. Can you imagine any father sitting beside his little boy from morn to eve and never uttering a word? He could not; he would be bound to speak. It would be quite immaterial whether he said anything new. Love rarely does say anything new; but it delights to repeat its old things. It is not the revelation that is important; it is the revealing, the breaking of the silence, the communion of soul with soul.

       And so, my Father, is it with Thee. I do not know whether in the voice of Jesus Thou hast told me any new secret about the universe. It is Thy voice itself that breaks the great secret. I have received little light on old mysteries. Thou hast told me nothing new about the origin of life. Thou hast left unsolved the enigmas of space and time. But Thou hast spoken. Thou hast said, "I am here; " that is all; but that is heaven. I care not so much what Thou sayest as that I should hear Thy voice. The revelation I want from Thee is the revealing of Thy love. I care not though it should only tell the old, old story. I reck not though it should unbar no secret, though it should unclasp no mystery. Only let it speak - speak truisms, speak platitudes, speak repetitions. Only let it sound a note in the silence - a note which shall say, " I am with you, I remember you, I love you." Its reiterations will be the dearest message of all; its repetitions will be the sweetest message of all; its old, old story will be the gladdest message of all. My love will never weary of hearing the refrain of Thine; therefore, even though nature had told me all, I should still welcome the voice of Jesus.

The Slavery Which Glorifies

 "Ye are not your own. For ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's." 1 Corinthians 6: 19, 20.

1 Corinthians 6: 19, 20

       This is the only note of triumph I have ever heard sounded over the condition of a slave. Is it not a marvelous note? ''Ye are not your own; ye are bought with a price; ye are the property of another; therefore glorify your master in your body and in your spirit." Can slavery glorify either a servant or his master! Can it glorify the body; does it not bring weariness! Can it glorify the spirit; does it not bring depression! How could Paul thus speak of a slave! Because there is one kind of slavery which does glorify both the servant and the master; it is love. The heart is never glorified till it gets an owner. Before that time body and spirit are very listless. But when the owner comes, when love comes, then body and spirit leap up together; the eye sparkles; the cheek mantles; the feet bound; the laugh rings; the pulse beats quicker; the yoke becomes easy, and the burden light. There is no homage to the master of a heart like the glory of that heart. When it brightens at his presence, when it leaps at his approach, he is glorified. He would not feel his ownership complete if it did not bring this glory, for the proof of my mastery over your heart is the gleam and glitter of its chain.

       I thank Thee, O Lord, for this one slavery -  the bondage of my heart. It is the charter of my glory. All the beauty of my heart lies in its chain; it sparkles most where it is bound. Never let there come to me an emancipation of the heart. I would have freedom in all else. Let the hands be free, let the mind be free, let the will be free; but let the heart ever have its chain. Thou whose name is Love, let me ever be Thy bondsman. I would not be the bondsman of any power but Thee. There are things in which I should always like to be independent. I should not like my body to be fettered; I should not wish my reason to be bound. But I should always covet Thy chain - Love's chain. I should not wish the independence of the heart. I should not like to have nobody to care for. I should not desire my affections to escape from the cage and be free. Love, Divine Love, Im- mortal Love, be Thou the master of my soul!

Renewal In Christ

 "He that sat upon the throne said 'Behold, I make all things new.'" Revelation 21:5.

"Blessed are the peacemakers..."

       To make things new is not the same as to make new things. To make new things is the work of the hand; to make things new is the work of the heart. Whenever one sits upon the throne of the heart, all things are made new. They are made so without changing a line, without altering a feature. Enthrone in your heart an object of love, and you have renewed the universe. You have given an added note to every bird, a fresh joy to every brook, a fairer tint to every flower. The greater part of this world is painted from within. Its deepest colors are given to the eye by the heart; when the heart grows pale, nature grows wan. When Christ sits upon the throne of the heart, He brings roses to the field. He does not make new things, but He makes things new. I do not think we are aware how much the value of a thing depends upon a thought. What is the difference between the wound inflicted by the surgeon and the wound inflicted by the malefactor? It is a thought - the difference between a purpose of pain and a purpose of mercy. Such is the change which, to me, Christ makes on this world. It is a mental change -  altering the physical view. It is just the difference between a purpose of pain and a purpose of love. I once thought the ills of life were messages of vengeance - the thunderbolts of a vindictive God. But when Christ mounted my heart's throne, the thunderbolts became musical. Death was a chariot to bear me home. Pain was an operation to heal disease. Bereavement was a lifting of my treasures to a safer bank. Poverty was the test of my love. Clouds were the trial of my faith. Surprise was the proof of my patience. The fires of life were the cleansing of the golden chain.

       O Thou who art seated upon the throne of the heart, my knowledge of Thy love has made all things fair. The emerald rainbow of my soul has put new lights in the sky. Yesterday the whole creation was groaning and traveling in spirit; but it was in spirit, not in fact; it was a thought in the soul that put sackcloth on the sky. To-day there has come a new thought to my soul; and creation groans no more. The world has caught fire from the joy of my love; the heavens declare its glory; the earth showeth its handiwork. Not only does the Jay sing it; the very night reflects it. Dark places have caught the glow of Thy presence. Every valley has been exalted; service has been ennobled, sacrifice has been beautified, patient suffering has been reverenced, humility has been made regal, self-restraint has been glorified, the sharing of sorrow has been called blessed, the surrender of the will has been called Divine. The virtues of the vale have become the merits of the mount; the poor in spirit have the kingdom, the meek have the inheritance, the sacrificial have the comfort, the unsatisfied have the promise, the merciful have the crown, the peace-makers have the royalty, the martyrs for truth have the empire over all. Jesus, the very thought of Thee has made this world new! Dr. George Matheson

The Principle of Heavenly Rank

 "Every man in his own order: Christ the first-fruits; afterward they that are Christ's."  1 Corinthians 15:23.

       The influence of caste would seem to be ineradicable. We are told that God has leveled down all men in a common condemnation; yet here we read "every man shall rise in his own order." Why not? If you were to reduce all men to one level to-day, they would be quite unequal to-morrow; the best men would come to the front in a few hours. "But," you say, "I expected better things of heaven. I thought in the other world we should be done with all this cutting and carving, this separation of masses and classes, this raising of barriers between man and man. How it disappoints me to hear that a man has to keep his own order! "Nay but, my brother, "what is the order? Who are those that are to stand in front of the throne? It is the men of sacrifice - the men who have most power to hurst the barriers. Christ is ''the first-fruits" because Christ has gone deepest down. Then come ''they that are Christ's " - they that have washed their robes in the blood of self-forgetfulness. Behind them are the rank and file - those who are still unfit for service, who themselves need to be served. These are the invalids of the camp; they require to be waited upon; they go not forth to battle against sin and Satan. In the present world they would have been called the people of means, people of independence, people who keep attendants; but in the coming world the attendants themselves are to have the first room.

       Prepare me for my heavenly rank, O Lord! Thou hast said that the least shall be greatest in Thy Kingdom; prepare me for my coming high position. I speak of preparing for death; that is an easy thing; I have only to practice torpor. But the hard thing is to practice for that which makes heavenly greatness. I could easily make ready for earthly greatness; I should learn to domineer in a week. But to  serve, to help, to minister, to perform menial offices, to retire into the shade that another's light may shine - that needs a long education. I have often wondered why helpful souls are taken away by death. I do not wonder anymore. I leave school when I am fit for this world; the ministrant souls leave school when they are fit for Thy world; they are the ripest fruits of the garden, and they are ripened by fire. The front flowers are Thy Gethsemane flowers - Thy Passion flowers. My place in the New Jerusalem will be determined by my conquest of exclusiveness; and nothing conquers exclusiveness like pain. They who have passed through the furnace of earth come out to Thee unbound. They are freed from the shackles of all caste; therefore they are the prime-ministers of Thy Kingdom.

God's Chosen Servant is Jesus.

Self Surrender

 "As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine ; no more can ye, except ye abide in me."  John 15: 4.

Branches of The Vine.

       No individual becomes great by his own individuality; he only reaches greatness through the life of another. Why is the patriot distinguished? Because he abides in a larger life - the life of his country. Why is the philanthropist distinguished? Because he is a member of a larger body - the body of humanity. Why is the poet distinguished? Because he is part of a larger spirit - the spirit of nature. The truth is, every one of us only begins to live by the act of dying. The branch bears fruit because it loses itself in the tree. An individual man is glorious in proportion as he feels himself to be another. If a branch were conscious it would not say " I am a branch," but " I am a tree." If a subject of the Czar said to a subject of King Edward, ''Russia would beat England in war," the latter would feel sore. Why? Because he has identified his own life with the life of England; her triumph is his triumph, her defeat is his defeat; the branch claims to be the tree. So is it with the Christian. He makes Christ a personal matter - rejoices when He is honored, weeps when He is defamed. I saw a German professor crying like a child over prevailing infidelity. The world would have wondered; it would have said ''Nobody is hurting him!" He would not have admitted that; the branch felt itself to be the tree.

       My soul, hast thou realized the secret of thy greatness? It is not thine independence; it is thy surrender to another - to Christ - to universal Man. It is not even self-denial that will make thee great; what thou needest is not more privation but larger enjoyment. I hear thee speak of the forgetfulness of self. Yes, my soul; but the solemn question is, the manner of thy forgetting. How wouldst thou forget; shall it be by death or shall it be by life? Thou canst forget thyself by chloroform; but that is not greatness; it is the unconsciousness purchased by dying. But I know of an unconsciousness which is purchased by living - living in the life of another; it is the thing called love. The branch could forget itself by being withered; it prefers to forget itself by being in the vine. Get into the vine, my soul! Get into the life of another - the other! Feel thyself a member of His body! Identify thy interests with the interests of Him! Let there beat one pulse between thee and thy Lord! Let His grief be thy grief; let His joy be thy joy! Let thy prayer be the Lord's Prayer, His six golden wishes thy six golden desires in life! Let Him and thee join in prayer together - for the hallowed Name, for the coming Kingdom, for the accepted Will, for the nourishment of life, for the reign of mercy, for the end of sin! Thou shalt reach the sleep of God's beloved when thy forgetfulness of self shall be the remembrance of Jesus.

Lazarus Bound

"Then Jesus shouted, 'Lazarus, come out!'

 "And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with graveclothes; and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go." John 11: 44.

       A man's resurrection does not accomplish everything. Lazarus had received the new life, but he retained the relics of the old corruption; he rose from the dead bound with the graveclothes. The command, "Lazarus, come forth!" had to be followed by another mandate, ''Loose him, and let him go!" It is ever so. When we are lifted into the life of Christ we present at first a most incongruous spectacle. We are like Nebuchadnezzar's image - one part gold, the other clay. We profess to be risen from the dead, and yet we show traces of the sepulchre. Old habits linger; old weaknesses remain. So far as clothing is concerned, there is at first no difference between the risen Lazarus and the dead Lazarus; the difference is all within. But that is an enormous difference. You and I may meet on one landing of a stair. Outwardly we are on the same level - one height above the ground. But our intentions are opposite; I am coming down the stair; you are going up. Mine is a movement toward the earth; yours is a resurrection movement. So was it with Lazarus. He was on a level with the past in point of apparel. Measuring by the eye you might have said, "Judas seems as good as he." But Judas was putting on his graveclothes; Lazarus was about to take his off; the one was coming down, the other was going up, the stair.

       'My brother, do not measure thyself by thy garments! Thy garments may be of earth long after thy life has come from heaven. Be not dismayed that when thou hast crossed the Red Sea, when thou hast heard the sound of the timbrel, when thou hast listened to the triumph of Miriam's song, thou hast not left Egypt all behind! Be not dismayed that beyond the sea there lies, not the immediate Canaan, but the dry, parched land of the desert! Be not dismayed that on thy walk to the New Jerusalem thou art met by the unhealed lepers of thy heart! Though old tempers rise, though old jealousies crop up, though old pride reappear, though moments of old doubt return, say not that thy faith is vain! Knowest thou not that the enemy lingers in the suburbs after the city is taken! Is it not written, "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light!" Thy light is the last thing to be given; it is to follow thy waking, to follow thy rising. When thou risest from the grave, hand and foot and eye are still bound; thou canst not run, thou canst not work, thou canst not see. God's first gift to thee is the power to feel, yea, to feel pain; thy new like thine old birth is but a child's cry. But the cry is the cry of enlargement; the pain is the pain of convalescence. Yesterday, the graveclothes were no barrier to thee; to-day, they are; therefore, to-morrow thou shalt hear the mandate, ''Loose him, and let him. go!"

Amber Nelon Thompson sings "We Shall Behold Him!"

Instinct And Reason

"Faith At The Cross"

 "Faith is the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

       Swallows which have never seen a foreign summer migrate toward that summer. How do they know of its existence? They have no personal memory; their parents have no words by which to tell them; how do they know to travel toward sunny skies of which they have had no experience? In other words, what is their evidence of things unseen? Would you be shocked if I said it was faith. Indeed I can give no better answer. These swallows are moved by an impulse which they cannot explain, which I cannot explain. Perhaps a magnetic influence attracts them in one direction. Perhaps the image of a summer sky is imprinted on the retina. Perhaps they move by a simple feeling of unrest. In any of these cases it is what in the spiritual world I call faith. It is an impulse beyond present experiences leading the bird to anticipate a coming experience. In the case of the swallow the truth of the impulse is proved; it lives to reach the summer to which it flies. But suppose it always died before reaching the goal, it would then be like you and me. We also have an impulse to fly beyond our environment. We are born in the winter, and in the winter we die. Yet we are ever seeking a summer we have never seen - a summer which is not here. Generation after generation pursues its flight to the unknown land of light and warmth. Each drops weary by the way; but its successor resumes the wing. It is faith's wing. No swallows have come back to tell us of the summer sky; but still we fly persistently - through cold, through dark, through storm, through rough blasts of obloquy, through chills of contempt, through hours of weakness and weariness. Is it not a most unreasonable flight?

       Yes, my brother, there is no reason in it; it is higher than reason - it is instinct. In all prophetic things, trust thy faith before thy reason. Reason is against the migration of the swallows; reason is against the labors of the bee; it would be easy to demonstrate, from reason, that both were in a delusion. Yet the swallow has proved right; the bee has proved right - right by instinct. Thou, too, hast an instinct, my brother; it is called faith. Reason has taken many of thine instincts away. But she has left thee this one - the prophetic power of the swallow, the prophetic power of the bee. To thee, as to the swallow, God has given an impulse of unrest - a necessity to migrate towards skies thou hast not seen. To thee, as to the bee, God has given the impulse to seek a tabernacle of which thou hast no experience - the dwelling-place of the Most High. I hear men speak of songs of the season. Thou hast a song before the season - a song which is in vogue among the angels. There bloom in thy heart flowers that are not yet in thy ground. The bird of the air sees the storm before it comes and flies from it; thou seest the calm before it comes, and fliest to it. Faith is thine evidence of things not seen.

Ron Kenoly sings "We Will Wait" Live.

The Revelation of Heaven That Comes From Earth

"If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they he persuaded, though one rose from the dead." Luke 16: 31

       Jesus does not mean that a man would not be persuaded of a future life if a departed soul were to reappear. That would not be true; and Jesus never says what is not true. It would be a direct refutation of His teaching; is not the power of His own resurrection just the fact that it is a message from the dead! But you will get a flood of light on the passage if you ask, What did the rich man in this parable need to be persuaded of? What was he in doubt about during life? The existence of God? The existence of a heaven? The existence of a hell? There is no evidence of any such scepticism. What he did doubt was the eternity of love. He allowed a miserable beggar to lie at his gates uncared for, and to be fed by the accidental crumbs which fell from his table; the dogs showed more humanity. When he got into the future life he found that he was unfit for it. It was a life of ministration; and he had never learned to minister. He said, ''I am tormented in this place;" he felt deserted, unbefriended, alone. He thought if a dead man were to appear to his five brothers on earth it would help them to be charitable. Jesus says it would not. He says the spirit of love cannot be created from the outside. No opened heavens will give it; no sights of beauty will give it; no scenes of horror will give it; it must exist within.

       My soul, why complainest thou of the silence beyond the grave! It is not from beyond the grave that thy revelation of heaven must come. If the essence of heaven were beyond the grave there would be openings in the cloud every day to let thee see through. But the essence of heaven is below, within. Wouldst thou find the river of its life; cry not for the wings of a dove to bear thee upward. Not in the scenes of mystery shalt thou find that river. Thou shalt only reach it in the commonplace street where Moses and the prophets dwell. While thine eye is on the stars thou art missing thy revelation. Lazarus is lying at thy gate - broken, afflicted, desolate. Israel's children are lying at thy gate - outcasts from the Egypt of civilization, foundlings picked up from the gutters of the Nile. Moses calls thee to save them; the prophets call thee to save them; the burning bush calls thee to save them. Wilt thou hear Moses and the prophets and the burning bush? Then hast thou reached the very essence of heaven - love. Wouldst thou tell thy five brothers that they are immortal? Thou needst not send a message from the tomb. Show them the power of love. Show them the power that here and now can make a man live outside his own environment. Show them the life that can find itself by loss, raise itself by burial, clothe itself by divestiture, enrich itself by poverty, glorify itself by lying in the dust. Then shalt thou ask no more a voice from the grave. 

"Lazarus begging for food."

The Place of Human Effort In Religion

 "And the Lord said unto Moses, wherefore criest thou unto me? Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward." Exodus 14:15

Luke 4:4 and Deuteronomy 8:3

       There is a time when the best service of God is not prayer but action. God says to Moses, "Why spend your time in crying for Divine help when there are human hands fit for the work; instead of speaking to Me, speak to the children of Israel, that they go forward." Moses had always been lethargic about action; his natural meekness may have been want of energy. He seems to have expected a purely Divine interference - a bolt from the blue, or an earthquake, or a legion of angels; his vision of the burning bush doubtless to him suggested something drastic. He perhaps even thought it wrong to use physical means. Ought not God to have all the glory! If God willed that the children should recover, there was no use for a doctor. If God was their natural preserver there was no need for vaccination. There was a short road to the land of Canaan - the Divine road; why take the human way! God answered, Because it is the long way; because it requires more time and trouble, and therefore more faith and love. And so God answers still to every soul that asks why He has made life so difficult. He says, "It is better to gain than to get; it is better to win than to wear; it is better to conquer your possession than to carry it, unresisting, home."

       I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thou hast led me towards the land of Canaan by the long way. With Thy full presence I could have reached it in an hour; but then, I might have lost it in an hour. I should not have been fitted for it, trained for it, educated for it. I thank Thee that on my pilgrimage Thy face has been veiled to me. If Thy power had been perfectly active I should have had nothing to do. I might have closed the hospitals, the infirmaries, the houses of refuge. And the closing of my care would have been the closing of my love. The invalids would have been cured at my expense - at the expense of all that is good in me. I should have had no room for pity, no place for solicitude, no corner for care, no margin for human sacrifice. I should have had neither Martha's portion nor Mary's - neither the working nor the waiting. But, O my Father, I bless Thee that Thou hast left me room for both - room to work and room to wait - human power and human patience. I bless Thee that there is silence enough in heaven for my voice to be heard on earth. I bless Thee that the veil of Thy temple has not been wholly rent in twain. If it were. Thy light would dispense with my faith, Thy force would supersede my acting, Thy will would prevent my effort, Thy sacrifice would make useless my love. I will praise Thee for the rim of darkness round Thy sun -  that Thou hast sent Israel's children by the lengthened way!

The Men Who Have No Work

 "Sit ye here while I go and pray yonder." Matthew 26: 36. 

       It is a hard thing to be kept in the background at a time of crisis. In the Garden of Gethsemane eight of the eleven disciples were left to do nothing. Jesus went to the front to pray; Peter, James, and John went to the middle to watch; the rest sat down in the rear to wait. Methinks that party in the rear must have murmured. They were in the garden, but that was all; they had no share in the cultivation of its flowers. It was a time of crisis, a time of storm and stress; and yet they were not suffered to work. You and I have often felt that experience, that disappointment. There has arisen, mayhap, a great opportunity for Christian service. Some are sent to the front; some are sent to the middle. But we are made to lie down in the rear. Perhaps sickness has come; perhaps poverty has come; perhaps obloquy has come; in any case we are hindered and we feel sore. We do not see why we should be excluded from a part in the Christian life. It seems an unjust thing that, seeing we have been allowed to enter the garden, no path should be assigned to us there.
       Be still, my soul, it is not as thou deemest! Thou are not excluded from a part of the Christian life. Thinkest thou that the garden of the Lord has only a place for those who walk and for those who stand! Nay, it has a spot consecrated to those who are compelled to sit. There are three voices in a verb - active, passive, and neuter. So, too, are there three voices in Christ's verb ''to live." There are the active, wrestling souls, who go to the front, and struggle till the breaking of the day. There are the passive, watching souls, who stand in the middle, and report to others the progress of the fight. But there are also the neuter souls - those who can neither fight nor be spectators of the fight, but have simply to lie down. When that experience comes to thee, remember, thou are not shunted. Remember it is Christ that says, "Sit ye here.'' Thy spot in the garden has also been consecrated. It has a special name. It is not ''the place of wrestling," nor "the place of watching," but "the place of waiting." There are lives that come into this world neither to do great work nor to bear great burdens, but simply to be; they are the neuter verbs. They are the flowers of the garden which have had no active mission. They have wreathed no chaplet; they have graced no table; they have escaped the eye of Peter and James and John. But they have gladdened the sight of Jesus. By their mere perfume, by their mere beauty, they have brought Him joy; by the very preservation of their loveliness in the valley they have lifted the Master's heart. Thou needst not murmur shouldst thou be one of these flowers!

The Veiling of God's Face

 "He holdeth back the face of His throne, and spreadeth His cloud upon it." Job 26: 9

       A hiding of God's sovereignty is a startling thing. We can understand a hiding of His beauty, for the beauty of the minor chord may only appear in the symphony. We can understand a hiding of His counsels, for we in our ignorance might not see the good of them. But we should always like to see His sovereignty. The most startling thing about the hiding here spoken of is its deliberateness. If it were merely said that man cannot fathom God, we should accept it as a truism. But it is God Himself who here designs the unfathomableness. There is a double act of concealment. He first ''holds back the face of His throne," and then "spreads a cloud over it." It is an elaborate movement for veiling; and it disturbs us. But consider what is veiled. Is it really the throne of God? No, it is only the face of the throne. The face of the throne is that which looks forward; it is God's sovereignty seen in advance. He will not reveal that. He will reveal the side of His throne - He will give strength for the present need. He will reveal the back of His throne - He will let us see His providence in retrospect. But He will not show us the face of His throne; He spreads a cloud over the future glory.
       And is this not well for thee, O my soul! Thy Father does not wish to compel thee to come in; He would have thee come by thine own will. Therefore He conceals the glory. How could any man resist the glory - the face of the throne of God! Would not such a vision rob thee of thy freedom! Who would not climb the hill of God if it were always crowned with sunshine! If there is too much light there can be no test of love. It is easy for thee to seek thy God when thou seest the rainbow of emerald and the blaze of sapphire. But if the rainbow were extinguished, if the sapphire blaze were quenched, if the face of His throne were covered, couldst thou seek Him then? If it were  to be proclaimed that there would be no judgment-seat, no books opened, no partition between the right hand and the left, would virtue be to thee still as beautiful? Couldst thou choose her in plain attire? Couldst thou love her without God's adoption ring? Couldst thou wed her with no material dowry? Couldst thou cherish her with no hope of reward? Couldst thou work for her, toil for her, sacrifice for her, though through the midnight air there came no murmur of the approaching song "Good and faithful servant, well done"? Then hast thou vindicated the silence of God; then mayst thou bless thy Father that He has held back from thee the face of His throne.

The Architecture of Man

 "For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 2 Corinthians 5:1

"Now He that hath wrought us for the self-same thing is God." 2 Corinthians 5:5

       I understand the meaning to be that man was not made, or ''wrought," for the present world, but for another world; we are living in a shifting tabernacle, and we have the furniture of a permanent building. There are three sets of houses with which we come in contact; two of them are quite intelligible; the third is always a puzzle. There is the small house with poor furniture; we know that this means the life of toil. There is the large house with grand furniture; we know that this means the life of riches. But there is a third - the small house with grand furniture; and this mystifies us. There is an incongruity about it. We feel that the furniture was not made for  the edifice - that it was meant for another and a better edifice. So it is with man. The most pronounced feature about him is his incongruity. He is not a miserable creature; he is not a divine being; he is a mixture of both. He is a little house with gigantic pretensions. The furnishing is quite inappropriate to the edifice. The edifice is a shifting tabernacle with no permanent resting-place. But in front of it there are magnificent grounds laid out - grounds which must be lost unless there be a permanent building. The grounds are the aspirations in front of reality. We are confined within a narrow space; but we are seeking nothing less than a Christ.
       Yes, Thou fair Christ, I am in search of Thee! From my tiny window I stretch out my hands to catch the heavens. It is not only in what men call religion that I seek Thee; all my aspirings are aspirings after Thee. In the study of art I am seeking Thee; I am in search of a perfect beauty. In the reading of fiction I am seeking Thee; I am trying to figure a life fairer than the children of men. In the love of music I am seeking Thee; I am striving to imagine a harmony deeper than that of the spheres. Thou art the inappropriate garden in front of my tabernacle. Therefore I know that I have a building somewhere. I know that these permanent grounds would never be laid out for a shifting tent. I know that the electric light would never have been furnished for a house which cannot stay. Thou wouldst not build a massive ship if the sea were to be dried up. I behold as yet no trace of the waters; but the ship is already here; that is my hope of glory.

A Singular Change of Fashion

 "The world is gone after Him." John 12:19.

        It is not often that fashion originates in the provinces. It is not often that the metropolitan press sustains the reputation of a book or singer on the authority of provincial journals. It is the lower that take their fashion from the higher. Imagine Belgravia eagerly inquiring for the latest culture of Bohemia! Yet here is a complete transformation of the higher by the lower. When Christ came He was the opposite of the fashion. Cecsar was the fashion. They were the extremes of the social ladder. Caesar was proud; Christ was lowly. Caesar was sceptred; Christ was scourged. Caesar had the crown of empire; Christ had the crown of thorns. Yet Christ is now at the top, and Caesar is nowhere. That IS what Paul means by "the fashion of this age passeth away." "The fashion of this age" means "the fashion of the Roman Empire." We have lived to see it pass; we have lived to see its opposite enthroned. There has come a new ideal of manliness - a reversed ideal. The chaplet once was woven for the men who strike; it is now wreathed for the men who bear. The mountain virtues are the things once called poor-spirited - courage in sorrow, meekness in trial, mercy in judgment, peacemaking in strife, purity in temptation; these are our patterns on the modern mount.
       And they are all from Thee, O Jesus! Thou hast changed the fashion of the world, nay, the fashion of my dream. I have come to admire what I once despised - all through Thee. It is my love for Thee that has changed my standard of greatness. It is because I have been down with Thee in Gethsemane; it is because I have climbed with Thee the steep of Calvary. It is not the altered fashion that has glorified Thee; it is the glory of Thee that has altered the fashion. I pass along the old road and behold great changes. I see no decrepit children put out to die. I meet no helpless invalids left to starve. I encounter no demoniacs walking neglected amid the tombs. I behold no deaf or blind crowding the highway for want of a home. I find no slave standing in the market for sale. I miss, above all, the streaming throng that used to follow the wrestlers in the ring. And when I ask, ''Where are they all gone - these once admiring crowds? " some pilgrim of the way points to the road Thou hast taken, and says "the world has gone after Him"

Religion and Immortality

''The dead praise not the Lord, neither any that go down into silence. But we will bless the Lord from this time forth and for evermore." Psalm 115: 17, 18.

       I should be disposed to call this the earliest Jewish argument for the immortality of the soul. I understand the Psalmist to mean: "If the end of man were death, he would not during life have the instinct of praise. A race of mortals destined to nothing but mortality would be a race silent to religion. Men designed for the dust would not lift their eyes and their voices in worship. The fact that we do lift our eyes in worship is a proof that the grave is not our goal. Nor does it seem to me that the Psalmist reasons badly. Why should man have a faculty above his environment! If he is made exclusively for this world, why should he seek another! If death ends all, I have a sense here that I do not need. I need all other of my senses here. I need the eye, the ear, the hand, the taste, the thrill of joy, the instinct of fear - above all, that balance of the whole called common sense. But I do not need the sense of another world; it is useless to me, it impedes me. I require the earthly hunger to guide me to the earthly food; but if there be no future, where shall the heavenly hunger guide me! Only to the depths of despair. Where has that heavenly hunger come from? I cry for earthly bread because I am prepared for that bread, because that bread is prepared for me. But if there be no preparation for a future in my soul, why does my soul cry for it! Wherefore should an accent of praise come from those who go down into silence!
       I thank Thee, O Father, that there is a voice within me which contradicts the silence of death. I thank Thee for my necessity to pray. It is the only gift that comes to me direct from Thee. I never got it from the earth nor from aught that was earthly. It has been strongest in me just where the world was weakest. It has come to me most powerfully when the roses have faded and the trees are bereft of their green. It has often been the last survivor in my soul. It has lived when the world has died. It has come to me when the flower has lost its perfume and the bird has ceased to sing. Like the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration, I have seen Thee when the cloud has fallen on all beside; I have seen Thee and I have cried to Thee. My cry to Thee has been like the ark in the flood; it has risen above a submerged world. Therefore, O Father, it is my olive branch of peace. It tells me I have something that will not die, not go down to silence. My rainbow of hope has come from my path of tears; I have learned in my tears what things the deluge cannot drown. They that praise Thee shall praise Thee forever.

Christian Simplicity

 "But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ." 2 Corinthians 11:3.

       The simplicity spoken of is not simplicity of thought but simplicity of choice.When Christ bids us "receive the kingdom as a child " He is not asking simplicity of thought. Children are not simple in thought. Look at the fearful questions they put‚- " Who made God?" "Where do the figures go when they are rubbed off the slate? "‚ - questions for the philosopher, for the scientist. But children are very simple in their choice. A child never sees more than two alternatives; a thing is either good or bad, right or wrong, beautiful or ugly. Paul says that in the moral world man has lost that simplicity; the serpent has beguiled him as it did Eve. How did the serpent beguile Eve? By obscuring the simplicity of the question at issue. Sin would never succeed unless it first obscured the question. Would any man hesitate between God and Satan if the simple alternatives were placed before him! But then the simple alternatives are never placed before him. The lower world is always painted in fair colors. It has stolen the flowers of Paradise and claimed them as its own. I never choose sin because it looks bad, but because it looks manly. The danger of sin is its counterfeit of glory. Satan in the wilderness is quite a Christian. He says to Christ, ''If you follow me I will help you to fulfill your mission more quickly." So speaks to all youth the hour of temptation.

       Help me, O Lord, to unclothe the tempter - to divest him of his disguise. Much of my service to him is an unconscious homage to Thee. I mistake the altar on which I lay my flowers. I have never said, either with heart or lip, "Let me build a temple to Satan." If I loved Satan I should have said it long ago. But I have loved Thee, and Thee only. I have seen in the grounds of the tempter things that were ''pleasant to the eyes;" but they were all stolen from Thy garden; their perfume was the perfume of Eden. Let me regain the simplicity of the child's vision - not shallowness of view but depth of contrast. Let me cease to call duelling an affair of honor, war a military glory, atheism a freedom of thought, immorality a life of pleasure, drunkenness an hour of good-fellowship. Let me cease to clothe the bird of night in the plumes of the bird of paradise. Give me the child's uncompromising power of choice - ''I like this," "I do not like that." Let me see the King in His beauty; let me behold the slave in his deformity. May Thy day have no cloud; may the tempter's night have no star. I shall reach the power of childhood when I have learned the simplicity of a choice betwixt two.

The Real World

 "Who serve unto the example and shadow of heavenly things; 'See,' saith He, 'that thou make all things according to the pattern showed to thee in the Mount.' " Hebrews 8:5.

       We speak of the dead as being in the land of shadows.'' Shades of the dead" is a familiar expression; it suggests that the next life is an unreal life. The view of the writer to the Hebrews is exactly the opposite. To him the spiritual world is the only real world, and the natural world is the land of shadows. Instead of the future life being a sleep in which we shall dream of earth, earth is a sleep in which we dream of the future life. We sometimes ask whether we shall carry any pictures with us beyond the grave. This writer says we have fallen into a strange misconception. We think of heaven as needing the photographs of earth to wake earthly memory. He says that earthly objects are themselves the photographs of heaven. The Mount of God does not need to be made after the pattern of the human; the human has already been fashioned after the pattern of the Mount of God.

       My soul, hast thou weighed the comfort of this revelation! Often have I heard thee say, ''What if the future should be to me a foreign land!" Often have I heard thee ask, "Is there anything which man will carry over from earth to heaven?" Hast thou reflected what God has carried over from heaven to earth! Hast thou considered that the best within thee is only the shadow of something more substantial! Hast thou pondered the heavenly origin of things which thou callest earthly realities! Thou speakest of earthly ties -  the ties of family and home. Where did these come from? From the Fatherhood of God, from the Sonship of Christ. Thou speakest of the marriage ring. Where did that come from? From the bridal supper of the Lamb. Thou speakest of the joys of love. Where did these come from? From the Love that passeth knowledge. Thou speakest of the sights of beauty. Where did these come from? From Him who is fairer than the children of men. Thou speakest of thy career of ambition. Where did that come from? From the Son of Man ascending to His Father. O my soul, thou hast mistaken thy true home; heaven is thy home. Thou art not going to travel at death; thou art traveling now. This is thy foreign land. What thou callest present reality is but a memory - an echo of far-off bells. Death will not reach the bells; it will only make thee independent of the echo. The distance makes the sound a mere reflection; thou shalt hear the actual chimes when thou shalt reach home.

Christian Emulation

 "Even so ye, forasmuch as ye are zealous of spiritual gifts, seek that ye may excel to the edifying of the Church." I Corinthians 14: 12. 

"I will stick to Christ as a burr 
to cloth" Katherine Von Bora

       "Seek to excel." What a strange precept for a gospel of love! Is not the wish to excel, a very bad thing? Is it not the root of most of the evil in the world? Is it not the cause of jarrings and jealousies and jostlings? Does it not raise heart-burnings different from those of the disciples on the road to Emmaus? Yes; but look at the passage again. Look at the reason given for the precept: Forasmuch as ye are zealous of spiritual gifts. Paul says if they had been zealous for material gifts he would have given very different advice. To excel in a material gift means to excel others. The possession of outward fame depends on your superiority; the beauty of a particular type of face lies in its rarity.

       But to excel in spiritual gifts is not to excel others; it is to surpass our former selves. The value of a spiritual gift depends on its diffusiveness - on the number of people that have it besides myself. Joy dies unless it is shared. Love breaks the heart unless it is reciprocated. Knowledge makes a solitude if it is possessed by one alone - the solitude of the Son of Man. The gold of the outward world is precious 'from its scarcity; but the gold of the kingdom of God grows precious as it becomes ample.

       My soul, wouldst thou know whether thy gift is spiritual or temporal? Ask thyself the question, Why do I wish to excel in it? Is it that men may say, "He walketh among the golden candlesticks; he is the chief among ten thousand"? Then thy gift is temporal - a poor fragile, earthly thing. But is it that thou mayst make others rich? Is it that thou mayst share with those around thee? Is it that men may cease to say of thee, ''He is the chief among ten thousand"? Is it that thou mayst make thy brother glad? Is it that thy voice may cheer the toiling, that thy song may brighten the invalid, that thy reading may instruct the blind, that thy painted flower may gladden the infirmary, that thy music may beguile a sister's hour of weariness, that thy poetry may kindle the aspiring of drooping souls? Then is thy gift spiritual, whatever it may be. Be it stone and lime, be it verse and rhyme, be it earth and time, if it is meant for ''the edifying of the Church" it is a gift of the Spirit of God.