Thoughtful Moments

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 4, Issue 151, 5 September 1941, Page 2

Thoughtful Moments

"ON GUARD," by the Rev. W. Allen Stevely Standing guard is one of tl\c commonplaces of life to-day. Everything is guarded. Factories, roads, bridges, and a thousand other thing? are under watchful eyes day and night. The sight of soldiers, sailors and airmen is a familiar one. Guardianship is part of the atmosphere of our national life to-day; and it is an impressive fact that men are" called to watch over and 'defend all the things which are dear to us. In former days we were inclined to take all these things for granted, and to regard! them as ones by right, now the lesson is being driven home to our minds that we have to do something to defend that right. Perhaps amid all the horrors of war, one of the gains which will come to us is the knowledge that rights are empty and vain, unless: we are willing and able to shoulder responsibility for them. Perhaps, in former days we were slack and inclined to take things too easily. Now all that is changed—and the change is all to the good. •

But in reviewing the spirit of watchfulness and alertness which is so evident, everyone knows thit it is more than the outward, material things avc arc now calied upon to guard. It is true that the outward things arc precious, to us— our land, our homes, our fields, our coasts: without them, we should be poor indeed. Our hearts go out in sympathy to the people of other nations whose land is under the domination cf an aggressive power. Their coasts arc invaded, the produce of their fields is not their own, and they have no fireedomMo travel the familiar roads which they looked upon as their own. Any nation in that servile condition must move our hearts to pifr; and our hope and prayer is that Ave shall not fall into the grip of that power ourselves. But there are other things to guard, beside our seas and land. There are inward things as well: and we cannot take these things are granted any more than we can take for granted the frecs dom of our lands and coasts. We must not lose the battle for our spiritual inheritance.

Our spiritual inheritance, is only ours if Ave arc prepared to defend it with all our might and main Neither an individual's soul nor a nation's soul is a territory. You cannot mark out its boundaries, vet it is the most real thing in life It must be defended against all the hostile powers which try; to invade and capture it for their own purposes. We cannot take the soul's welfare for granted any more than we can take for granted the freedom of our lands and coasts. Some people are blind to that fact. They imagine that no effort is needed to maintain the health and integrity of the soul. That is a serious mistake. We require to defend ones souls day in and day out, or we lose them. The inner warfare is always going on. "Watch and -pray," said our Lord. And think of this! In a lonely spot near the Cornish coast, there is a church which has a romantic history. It was built over 600 years ago, and for the first three centuries of its history, it was the scene of regular Sunday and week-day worship. It stood in a little hollow among the sandhills, its spire like a finger pointing upwards, clean and swept of the drifting sand. The constant tread of many feet marked the path plainly. The walls echoed with praise, and were fragrant with prayer. There fisherwives came to pray—one to give thanks that her husband had coma back safe from sea, another to pray' for her sons in peril on the sea. and another to tell to the heart of God, her sorrow for those who

OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE (Supplied by the Whakatane Mmist ers' Association).

i But that need not be the end of the story any more than it was tla end of the story of the little Cornish Church. The church Avas found! It happened in this way. One night there was a particularly violent storm Avhich caused some of the accumulated sand to shift. Next day a passer-by noticed a strange pinnacle of stone peering up from the ground. He investigated it, and called others to his help; and they began to Soon they discovered that they Avere unearthing the spire of a buried church. The Avhole neighbourhood became interested in the discoA'ery. Everyon? Avho could help took part in the operations, and before long, all the sand Avas cleared away. The little church in all its beauty Avas disclosed, and became once more the scene of praj'er and Avorship. And that too, is, or may be, a parable for our day. The fierce blitzkrejg of the past 12 months has bloAvn aAvay much of the sand which has accumulated by the neglect and indifference of 3'ears; and many are coming to realise the value of the things by which men live. "Watch and pray," said our Lord.

church stood in the sandhills, its spire like a linger pointing upwards. In those days the coast of Cornwall was liable to severe sandstorms. The: wind whisked up tne sand from the shore and carried it in dense clouds inland Avhere it settled deeply. Fields, bushes, and even houses were often buried in this way. Landmarks were obliterated, the whole configuration of the would never come home. The little countryside changed. The little church fell a victim to the invading sand. At first, the parishioners swept it away as fast as it settled. But after a time they grew careless and indifferent, and the sand began to acqumulate. Dt covered ths paths, and the graves in the little churchyard, it crept up the walls, it blocked the doors, until by and by the church was last, vanished completely out of sight! No bomb had destroyed it. No fire had consumed it. It was still there--only forgotten and ignored! For years the very locality of the building was entirely lost and forgottenPeople walked right over it without any knowing that it was buried underneath. A lost church! There are ruins of churches causcd by the fury of fire, others by the ravages of war, and as men behold them, they exclaim, "How sad!" But sadder far it is to contemplate n church forgotten and lost. What was the cause? The drifting sand? Yes, in a sense but a truer answer would be the neglect of those who should diavc defended it, and safeguarded it from the invading sand. If succeeding generations had coiitlnued the good work of these Avho had gone before them, and kept the paths clear, if they had been vigilant and not slack, the building would never have been lost. Bui one individual after another gave up the habit of Sunday worship, gave up caring to defend what pioneers had bequeathed to them, and so the invading sand won.

It is a parable for our day. It the Christian Church is to main* tain its witness, it can only be by unflagging vigilance, and unwearied loyalty on the part of her members. The forces of irreligion, the drifting sands, of carelessness, indifference, and neglect must be continually swept away. If this is not done, the sand will win. That has been the trouble in our land and in other 'ands for years past. Slackness, indifference, and love of ease and pleasure have resulted in the obliteration of spiritual landmarks. Eternal values have been forgotten anc' ignored, and worship smothered by materialism. The spiritual heritage handed on by the pioneers has not been defended and preserved.