SUNDAY COLUMN.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXV, Issue 3, 28 December 1912, Page 7

SUNDAY COLUMN.

FACING THE NEW YEAH

(By Prof. David Smith, D.D.)

A few seasons ago a little yacht was cruising among the Western isles of Scotland, and one sullen evening a gale set in from Hie broad Atlantic. It came moaning over the long, rolling swell, and caught the frail craft off a perilous, lee-shore. There wae no shelter at hand, but the old skipper had known that treacherous coast from boyhood, and he said that there was a harbour some distance away and lie thought ho could make it. And so, through the darkness lit only by the gleam of phosphorescence in her wake, the little ship went plunging on her course amid the wild welter of wind and wave. At length she swung into smooth water, and they let go the anchor, and turning into their berths went peacefully to sleep. In the morning the master came on deck and surveyed the scene —a little loch, girt about by dark purple mountains. It was a quiet haven but, looking towards the entrance, he beheld a narrow channel with sharp rocks jutting here and there, and all awash with boiling surf. To think of passing that way! The least swerving of the tiller, and those jagged teeth would catch the frail timbers and grind them to splinters, and every life would perish. He gazed a while, then he shuddered, and, turning to the old skipper he exclaimed : “Did we—did we pass there in the darkness?”

And this is a parable of life. We know something of the goodness and mercy'which have followed us all our days, hut there is more, immeasureably more, that we have never noticed ; and we shall never realise what a debt we owe to the unseen love which has attended us until we get Home to the City of God, and from its shining battlements survey the long road which we have travelled over the wide wilderness. We shall then perceive in the clear light of eternity what perils we have escaped—the hidden snares, the lurking foes, the rushing torrents, the dizzy precipices which we have passed securely in the darkness, because an unseen hand war. holding us and guiding our blind steps. Then we shall realise what we owe to the love of God. When this passing world is done, When has sunk yon glaring sun, When we stand with Christ in glory Looking o’er life’s finished story, Then, Lord, shall I fully know,

Not till then how much I owe.” It will be lan amazing discovery. “Did we pass there in the darkness?”

Meantime it is hidden from us. Go

back in thought to your boyhood. You remember that schoolmate, of yours, that bright, clever lad, always your rival and often your better. By and by you betook yourselves to college, you and he; and it seemed as though a career of high distinction lay before him* • But he took the wrong turning, and where is he now? Ah! it is a sad story—a father’p. shame, a mother’s broken heart, an unknown grave' on the other.l side of the world. And you—you are here at this hour, undishonoured, with a peaceful memory of the past and a good hope for the years to come. And what has npicle the difference? it is not that you were wiser or stronger, but simply that you have been “kept by the power of God.” His unseen love has preserved you in your going out and your coming in. > f rr\rt

One thinks of that story of St. Francis of Assisi—how once he was assailed with angry speech, and pelted in Halm fashion with opprobrious epithets and loaded with all the charges which could be heaped on the worst criminal. He listened meekly and then confessed that it was all true. And when his assailants wondered, he explained: “All these crimes and worse than those, I had committed, unless the favour of Heaven had preserved me.” If we but knew it, there is none of ~us that is not a monument of God’s mercy. His hand has been holding us, His heart has

been planning for us, all these bygone days, and this is the strong assurance wherewith it is given us to face the New Year and encounter whatever it may have in store for us—that the love which has always encompassed our path, unfailing, and unforgetting, will still attend us in the year which lies before us, and all our days and years unto the ehd.

Amid the manifold resolutions which we are forming on the threshold of the New Year, let us not omit this—that we will loyally accept our appointed places, whatever they may be, and make more than we have ever made, of the simple, homely, tender, and gracious things which are, after all, our most precious possessions. And withal, let us keep stedfa'stly looking forward. This is the Christian attitude. This world is continually getting emptier for us, but our consolation is that the unseen world is getting correspondingly richer. And it is this, which makes heaven attractive to us. When her boy has emigrated; the mother finds a new interest in the far-off land where he has gone to dwell. Once it was nothing to her, but now, when she sees its name in the newspaper, her heart leaps within her, and though she loves her home, she would be glad to cross the ocean, that she might see her boy’s face once more. It was because Joseph was in Egypt that Jacob-was content to go down there. And that is what makes heaven real and alluring: it holds so much that is precious to us. Keep looking forward. Our heritage, if we be Christ’s lies yonder. “In the Shadowless Land. Behind the light of the setting sun.” Our earthly life is a journey, and the end is ever drawing ever nearer. And our gladness is that it is a homeward journey and the destination is our Father’s House. We are travelling home, and that makes a blessed difference. You know how, when you have driven him far, your horse grove weary, and plods along with drooping head and stumbling . feet. Gut suddently he lifts his head and steps out briskly; for he has recognised the familiar road, and he hastens to reach his rest. And we are going home. Another stage of the journey is accomplished. “■A few short years of evil past, We reach the happy shore, Where death-divided friends at last, Shall meet to part no more.” PRAYER. Oh God, how broad are the welcomes of Thy love; Thou dost shut the door upon, none ; Thou dost wait to be gracious ; Thou art longing for prodigals. Thy mercy is as a great deep, it is like Thyself—i mmeasurable, unspeakable. To Thy 'mercy as shown in the Cross we all come, there we leave the burden of our sin, there we learn to hope and trust and love. Do not turn any of us away from that tender, blessed and healing Cross.—Amen.