Thoughtful Moments

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 7, Issue 28, 26 November 1943, Page 2

Thoughtful Moments

(Supplied by the Whakata

AN LXPIRING SUNDAY

Nt Ministers' Association)

.Mrs Missionary stood at the door 1 of her adol)e home. :it a village hi ' liie heart ol' North America. The sun : shone on the red root's of other adobe houses, on the dusty street where a group of almost naked children played, and on the. rutted hills across the valley. From north and south, and east and west ponchoclad Indians Avere gathering in the Ha/a, for this was Sunday the great market day of the week. A few men. with crude, reed-in-.stiiiments formed themselves into a hand., and marched along the street and through the Plaza. Stands were erected,, produce and other goods displayed., and soon the Plaza was turned into a bazaar, the noise increasing and the crowd becoming more unruly as the vendors of native beer disposed of their supply of chicha. Chola girls, their bright skirts adding to the picturc.squeno.ss of the became' gayer as tin: day wore on, the dark-haired babies on the backs of these mothers accepting all calmly. N Mrs .Missionary turned indoors with a. sigh. ".Mack, do you remember what Sunday morning was like at home?" she asked, wistfully. "Sometimes f- thiiik 1 would give anything to experience that lovely Sunday feeling- when everything is so quid and. restful, and even the birds have a special Sunday morn,ng .song." "Never mind, old girl," he comforted her. "till- lime next year we may be in New Zealand." A year later a happy missionary family came back to the land ot their birth, greatly rejoicing in all llie privileges of home, loving the qu.ei of tlie Sabbath., Avhen everywhere. "the spirit of pea.ee. pervaded the air. and the Avhole world drc.vsed in its Sunday best, sat down by the roadside of life to rest." The privilege of meeting for worship with others like-minded, the joys of fellowship,, were as balm to the weary missionaries. 'twenty years later Mrs Minister sat on the back Acrandah of her New Zealand manse—for the years had wrought this change—pondering these things., one quiet Sunday I.llom ing. The minister, with his sermon notes in hi.s hand, avallied up and down the garden path. "Have you noticed Jioav far back we as a country have slipped in the last twenty years?" she. enquired. "Ln Avhat way?" he asked, as he paused, in 'lis Avalk. "In regard to Sunday," she. said. 'When we came home there Avere no Sunday excursions, no Sunday .sports, and Sunday picnics were not considered good I'onn." "That didn't mean that CAcryone went to church." the minister observed.

OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE

No it didn't. But all things con-

sidered, there was more regard for Sunday. I think the public Avould haA'c been more shocked if a Sunday picnic, with the programme ol sports events, had. been reported in the local paper." Or the local golf club match advertised to be played on Sunday," lie supplemented. "11 is a matter of custom," Mrs Minister went on, "we are victims of custom. We have become, so used to Sabbath desecration that many fail even to recognise it, and our, Sunday is being lost." "It Avould be a good thing if we could transplant some people, especially Church people, into a country that has no Sunday," the. minister said, as, he resumed, his AvaSk,, "then they would know how valuable the day. is." "But. why Church people: especial--1 y?" his wife ell quiretl. "They could do Avith the experience." was the reply. "You will notice that because tins is a beautiful day .some of the seats will be empty. The car and the call of the country or the beach will be louder than the call to Avorship." Later, some, of these reflections were given at an Interdenominational Women's Organisation. A friendly discussion followed. "Do you think, Mrs Minister," one lady asked, "that if you don't live in a manse, you could bring a family up with that old-fashioned rechildren. On Sunday morning when 'You couldn't," the one sitting beside her affirmed, "the young people would resent it." I "We tell our children." Lite first speaker went on, "you must go to church, and Ihen you can have your games of cricket or tennis. "Doesn't that just prove Avhat I have been saying?" .Mrs Minister asked with a smile-. "Quietly and subtly our own pleasures are- encroaching until soon our Sunday will be dead. 'And Avhen its spirit, lias gone from the knowledge of men Ln their Avorld-wcary struggle, for pleasure, what then?'" A sweet-laced Avoman said quietly: "it is possible, even in a hurlyburly family, to keep Sunday as God's day., and make it loved by the children." Their she told this little incident. "Just now Ave have a ATisiior. a girl a little older than our children. On Sundady morning Avhen !l went into the girls' bedroom, there they were engrossed in their fancy,vork. My own little girl flushed scarlet, and looked most uncomfortable. "What are you doing, dear? You know better, don't you?" Then to the visitor, "You see., we put these things away 011 Sunday, and try to keep it different, and lovelier than any oilier day." "Yes," agreed, the visitor, "it starts the children of! with good ideas;, doesn't it?" It does.