Thoughtful Moments

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 05, Issue 67, 19 June 1942, Page 2

Thoughtful Moments

OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE

"JOHN SMITH GOES TO CHURCH" AiV ORDINARY MAN IN WAR, TIME, Yesterday John Smith got into a discussion with his neighbour, and in the course of it he made the remark: "You know, Fm a very ord-i inary sort of chap." If Ave saw him walking along the street this evening we would agree—a very ordinary sort of man. It was on a recent summer evening that John Smith went to church. Lt had been very warm earlier in the day, but as it began to cool in the evening he had said that y breath of air would do him good, and so he had taken a walk. His walk brought him near to the church door. He saw a number of people moving in: he could even hear the word of greeting between them and someone welcoming them in the vestibule; and he found himself thinking, "Will I go in?"

"Will I Go In?" He didn't decide at once. It AvaS an attractive evening out there in the sun; there seemed little enough sunshine these days; a man felt starved of sunshine, and ready to hoard it when it was there. But then he thought, it would only be l'or an hour; it would be something different. And then lie remembered that it was quite a long time since lie was last in church. He wasn't arguing with himself; it. was just that different thoughts came drifting through his mind. But when lie got to the door he mounted the I steps and went inside.

it was a little strange, he felt, seated there. Perhaps, it Avas the contrast with the bright sunshine outside; "dim. religious light,'" he quoted. Here the glare Avas gone, the noises of the street were hushed, it was cool and quiet. The Day of Prayer Then it came to his mind that the last time he had been to church was on a National Day of Prayer. That was tile time they had all been sio concerned about Peter, his boy Avith the Forces in the Middle Eiist. In that month they diseoA'ered you can haA'e both too much news and too little news—too much news of advances of troops in action, and too little news of your own lad. when you don't know how he is faring, or even where he is exactly.

They had gone to church that Day of Prayer, the whole family of them. His wife Alary and their daughter Alice had sat in the pew with him, and they had all been curiously one that day as they joined in prayer for the nation and for those in the perils of battle. He remembered now how heartily ho had joined in the opening Psalm •: God is our refuge and our strength In straits a present aid. Therefore, although the earth remove, We will not be afraid. He remembered how the whole service had that day meant something lor him jjnd the others. It seemed to be dif|prent from other services, more real,' somehow.; [And then he remembered (for these things will come to mind) how he had- thought then that there was more in this church-going than he had been making of it, and how he had said to himself, "It isn't good enough, this forgetting about the Church and neglecting it. I must do more about it."

Crowding Thoughts These thoughts were interrupted. Tiie minister Avas in the pulpit and was announcing the first singing— the 11? Ist Psalm. John Smith took no great part in the singing. Pie would have described himself as "no. great musician," and the psalm had no sooner begun than thoughts

(Supplied by Uic Whakatnne Ministers' Association)

kept crowding in. An early , line caught his attention— My safety cometh from the Lord. Safety was a much more important matter nowadays. There was Peter, whom they so often thought of, st'll "somewhere in the Middle East." News was so aggravatinglv slow! He might be anywhere—Syria or Libya —and' he might . . . And safety wasn't .just a matter of the firing line. Now it Avas—-"The front line runs; through every home,'" and they were often compelled to realise it. Mary realised it only too Avell. Really, it was getting to be quite a business Avhcn the sirens Avent . . . "Let us read the Word of God," said the Minister. John: Smith had often felt that the Bible Avas a strange book; so much of it Avas about far-ofT centuries and people very different from us; and never could feel quite at home in it, somehow. But there had been times Avhcn he had found there some plain, direct words; they seemed to stick out in the passage read as if someone had put a direct message into the pages of seme old story. There Avas a verse in this passage that lie had turned up and ay as following: "Thou Avilt keep Mm in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee." That Avas very relevant! "Perfect peace" of heart and mind seemed a very long Avay off in these days; but here Avas someone Avho ltncAV about it, kneAv the Avay to it! Maybe it Avas something of that pea.ee that he'd been feeling since lie came in here to-night.

The Prayer of Intercession came next. Prayer for others; he remembered a text heard long ago, "The Lord turned the captivity of Job when he prayed for his friends." While he prayed he thought of those others. He had forgotten about many of them—refugees cast adrift, people with no homes, those enduring long illness, those wives and mothers and j fathers who 21111 st /low go mourning, thousands .who had . anxieties like his, and thousands who had far j greater anxieties. And he? He had his own problems and trials, but he'd allowed his own to absorb him. Even in his heme—when his wife was irritable, he'd been realising too little the strain there was on her. And he'd been impatient and grousing, grumbling about food, and lack of news, and the crowded buses, and cigarettes. John Smith began to feel quite a bit ashamed of himself. The sermon began. His thoughts went with the preacher's, but alongside went his private thoughts. The Wrong Lines

He had had the privilege of a Christian upbringing; he had entered on the privileges and the responsibilities' of Church membership; and he knew that he hadn't been "pulling his weight." It was a serious business. People were talking about "a decline of religion,"' and he had been at fault, with others like him. He'd got on to the wrong lines, somehow. A Mood of Resolve The sermon ended, and it left. John Smith in a new mood —a mood of resolve. He was conscious of his privilege in the Christian heritage. He had a new understanding of religion as a force in life. He felt there was something here available; for him—a strength, a steadying in-! iluenee, an inspiration. He needed the Church, and the Church needed himThe mood of resolve found words in the last hymn : Rise up, O men of Cod! Have done with lesser things: Cive heart and soul and mind and strength. To serve the King of kings. The hymn finished, the Benediction was pronounced; the people responded with their "Amen," and then bowed in silent prayer. John Smith rose with the others and made his Avay out ol the church with a new calm and strength and resolve.