THE DAY OF REST. S0UL-DRIFTING.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 247, 17 March 1888, Page 7

THE DAY OF REST. SOUL-DRIFTING.

By Rev. <T. G. Rogers, B.A.

Ihcrcforo we ought to give the moro earnest heed to the things that, were hoard, lest haply we drift a way from them.— Hebrews ii. 1 (Rovised Version). Heke we have a new word, and, to soino extent, a new phase of thought, for which we are indebted to the Revised Version. The word "drift*' is found here, and here only, and the change which il introduces is one not in the word only, bub in the thought. There is a \ery distinct difference of idea between the two versions. To Jet the thing which we have heard slip from us is one thing, for ourselves bo drill away from their inilueoco over us is another. The essential e.ui-e ot the change may be the came in both cn^e*. Bub the one suggests the idea of truths fading away frrm the memory in which they once lived ; the other the giiiduul es-eape of the soul and life from a force by which they were once swayed. 1" this latter conception we have a truer view of the relation of the scul to the truths of God, as well as a more bug gestive picture of the way in which that relation may be disturbed. The one represents the truth as a treusuie which we hold, and w Inch it would be impossible to value too highly or to guaid too jealously ; point to it as a cieed tho very acceptance of which is to be esteemed a virtu* to be practiced by onrsel/es and enforced in others ; the other treats it as a spiritual lorce which is to renew, subdue, dominate ourselves. The danger against which these Hebrew Christians are warned, and we through them, is the decay of thiv power. Even the great truth of the Gospel, which they ha'i learned not from angols, bub from the Son of God flimeelf, might lose some of that vividness by which it had once so deeply affected them. The impressions which once stirred their hearts to their very depths must in the very nature of things lose their freshness, and in the eager competition of other ob jeots and interests, their powers might be seriously diminished. An influence which once was absorbing and omnipotenbjmight be checked and balanced, and so reduced by principles and motives of another order, as to be almost neutralised. Then without any violent wrench from the associations they had made, they might drift away from the centre of spiritual life and Christian law, I. What is this drift? It is, then, the dying out of impression, the decay of faith, the gradual loss of force which is anticipated and against which warning is given. Let us look carefully at the nature of this evil. Drift suggests, the idea of an undesigned, unobserved, to some extent unconscious movement. The thought of a deliberate apostacy, due to a change of < pinion and principle brought about by careful investigation and accepted with more or less reluctance, under the pressure of arguments to which no answers presented themselves, is excluded by the woid. It is a more sub- ] tile, insidious, gradual kind of change which j is indicated. The sacred writer is not contemplating a change of attitude toward the Gospel brought about by a previous intel- ] lectual movement to which the man himself had been a party, but one which very I slowly, but very certainly, reflects the sileut action of unseen and unrecognised foices which arc at work within and around him, and the ultimate effect of which may be an utter loss of all which once he most valued, and an abandonment to influences which ho once regarded with mingled ] hatred and dread. In this, indeed, there is cnty a general characteristic of gicat spiritual changes. For the most part they aie not sudden — it is doubtful, indeed, whether, regarded as a whole, they are ever sudden. The n'rsfc thought that awakena a soul to &eek after God may be a flash - B'.vift and unexpected as lightning— of remorse, of hope, of penitence, of any of the feelings which stir a soul lrom its apathy and security ; but the full eettiug up of the heavenly kingdom is by little and little. I dare not ' deny, I have no desire to deny, that there j are cases in which the turning of the soul j to God may be instantaneous. But even ' where this may appear to be so closer inquiry would probably show that there had been previous preparation leading up by little to this great result. Sunctific^tion must always be gradual, often slow. 11. Mark the sourcea of this evil. It is not eosy-~if it be not impossible — for a Christian to live in the world without being exposed to influences unfriendly to his faith and loyalty. He may indeed escape contact with those who directly aesuil the Gospel and rob him of his trust in the Saviour ; but he cannot thus get outside the range of the world's influence, and what does this seclusion really mean ? It is a cowardly attempt to avoid the perils and temptations of his intercourse with other men by withholding that power to affect them lor good which it is his duty to exert. The expedient is not a veryhonourableone ; it is doubtful whether it is likely to prove very successful. There is in it nothing of the chivalry of Christian heroism ; it way be found that it has as little of the far-see-ing wisdom of true sagacity. We must go into the world ii we are to aid in the work of its salvation. Our Lord's idea of the work of His Church, so far as I am able to understand it, is not the gathering in of a «mall company out of the world, but the conquest of the world iteelf for Him. The leaven is cast into the barrel of meal because the whole is to be leavened. Surely the lesson is that we must enter into the work and conflict of society in order that we may baptize ifc with the spirit of godliness, isolation may seem to be safe — it iB seeming only— but certainly it means a direct shrinking from duty. It is for us to influence the age and the country in which we live ; and in order to do it we must mingle with it. No Christian needs to offer an apology for interesting himself in the common pursuits of men around him ; the apology would be needed rather if we were to retreat to some spot of sacred seclusion, and there to sigh over the growing degeneracy of men, and set up come artificial barrier to guard himself against the invasion of its evil. We have something higher and grander to do tnan thus to take care of our own souls. We have to sanctify the world ; and if, in our endeavour to do our share in , this great work, we should seem to peril even our own souls, we have the promise of the Lord Himself that He who loseth his life for His sake .shall find it. , But the danger is real. A Christian cannot throw himself into the associations of common life, interest himself in the thoughts and pursuits' of the world, diecues the subjects in which' it is interested, or come within- the circle in which it is supreme, without ' exposing "himself to ' danger. There is danger in the* air ; and that is the very kind of danger -which is most to be dreaded; The ideas which are current — which, indeed, are universally 1 ' accepted— may coritain" in* themselves, the seeds of «vil which it is'noft eafcy to resist. Bht, in truth/ there is something which is more "übtlef and on 'that account more dangerous' even than idoa^what • .we t describe* as*

tendencies. In the one we have something palpable, which wo tost and examine, for which we may demand evidence, and, if it be not produced, may reject. But of the other it is difficult to lay hold. They are like those minute perms of disease, supposed to float in the air, about which •■cience taller 7ery learnedly, and to which it ascribes n good deal of mysterious power, ] but >vhich it cannot detect. It is in the tendencies of the age — tendencies which may have much in them that is beautiful and admirable — that the peril of which I speak lies. They assail us on the side we least expect danger, and they have so fair and winning an aspect that it is hard to meet them with stern resistance. The scientific temper, thy spirit of charity, sympathy with all forms of goodness, unfetteied liberty of thought and action— what could be more beautiful than these ? What true man desires to hold iabt, by a principle which cannot endure the test of the mest careful and searching scrutiny ? The external results, indeed, may be the same in the caso of one who Ins dufted away from principles and maxims he once held sacred as in that of tho faithful servant of conscience just described ; but the effects on the characters of the men are in strong contrast. The ono has followed what he believes to be the path of light, and has been careful to ascertain it ; the other lias simply yielded to tho dominant foico of tho. uge and society to which ho belongs, Ho i-j broadest of tne broad in these libcial time?-, just as he would probably have been among the most severe in days of greater narrowness. He shouts for liberty to-day, and is ready to avail himself of its privileges to i he utmost ; but in a less happy time he would have been just as likely to bwell tho ! chorus of the persecutor?. j This is what is to ba deprecated and condemned in drift. It is utter helplessness ; the abnegation of independent thought ; what is more, the practical renunciation of all care for right. It is sad to see numbors adopting a line of conduct altogether opposed to their old ideas of the right, without being able to give any satisfactory or even intelligent reason for their change ! They have come under a new set of influences, and they have never paused to consider how far thoy were good, and, therefore, to be welcomed, or wherein they were evil, and to be resisted at all costs ; but thoy have indolently allowed them to govern them. The ono question on the answer to which thtii decision should have hinged is one they have never cared to ask. The books or magazines they read, the talk of the society to which they belong, the example of others who maintain a Christian profession — all have told upon them, and they have not paused to consider how far their action was right. In truth, there has been no appeal to principle whatever. They are simply the victims of drift. 111. Is it necessary to point out the possible and even probable consequences? A little vessel which has been torn from its moorings, and is being carried far out to sea by the strong currents which are bearing it withersoever they will, may be engulped in some hidden quicksand, dashed to pieces on some rugged rock, carried thousands of miles away and strandei on a distant shore. The possibilities of evil are limitless to the ship which has lost helm and rudder, or has no one capable of using them wisely, and is at tho mercy oi wild winds and waves. When we read, in the story of Paul's shipwreck, that the sailors let the vessel be driven, we know that it was the expedient of utter despair. It was only when the violence of the tempest had disabled them for further resistance; when their sails were rent in pieces and their masts, one by one, cut awuy ; when their rudderwasgoneor theshiprefueed to answer toits guidance; when the vessel, even lightened of all its cargo, still laboured hea\ily in the trough of the sea, without making any progress, that its captain left it to drift. It waß but abandoning the choice of calamities, the confession that hope was gone, and that it remained for them only to accept their fate whatever it might be. There need be no truer picture of a soul that is drifting. It has escaped from the truths which once held it with a certain degree of force, which was a restraint from evu and a stimulus to good. Day by day they are receding into the distance, and becoming moro dim and uncertain, while the soul, acted upon by all varieties of influence, is borne thither and thither, uncertain in its aimß, unstable in its course, unconscious of the fate to which it may be hastening. One thing only in sure about it — it is every day being carried further and further from all which once it loved and valued. Kocks of barren unbelief, or whirlpools of seductive pleasure and indulgence, may be in the path on which it is advancing, but there seems no power to arreat its course. Tho position of men who have allowed themselves to be overborne by tbe forces of the society in which they move, is sufficiently sad to contemplate. Probably they have no idea of danger, and, indeed, may be priding themselves on the greater light ana liberty which they enjoy. They are emancipated from notions ot their childhood which they now look upon as mere superstitions. The world wears for them anew aspect, and life a new brightness,, their minds are not peopled with unworthy fears, nor their consciences troubled by needless scruples. But all this change has come upon them not as the result of more matured thought and conviction but simply as the effect ot influences under which thoy have been brought. There is no principle in it, and in that is the serious peril. Their souls have almost lost independent power. Opinions, habits, practice are being shaped by tendencies into the ultimate issue of which they have not oared to inquire. W ere they c ver quie ly to look back they'might be startled to find how far they have already been carried. And the drift is still out to sea. The lights on the shore have almost vanished, and they are drifting further and further still. Insensibly they are being carried further and further from Christ. His name has not its pld charm,' nor love to Him its former ardour. Even now* they would shudder at the thought of denying and forsaking Him ; but if they would sit down and seriously examine their heart and conscious they might find a state of things which would startle and distress them. They shrink from strong proclamations of the Gospel, and complain that in them truth is put too badly. They dislike fervid utterances of spiritual feelings, and desire that more of expression and restraint should be exercised. Above all, they dislike all that pre'sßes home; on the conscience the guilt of sin, and tbue close the appeals of Christ with force and cogency. This attempt to reduce. and minimise, to rationalise and , emasculate, the Gospel is the curse of our day. It % the perilous drift which, unwatched, will 'bear'us out intothe waste of etormy waters)' „ hidden in^ clouds which no' stars light up, and swept by tempests which may- strand, us oh the rocks of unbelief and despair. IV. Whait'islthe^rejmedy'for a^tliis'? 1 Where thereUs so easy an abant^ment. of the old truth it' surely must at any time, have had but, a feeble ans un^e&caii^hold , upon, the he^rt;. <"tp, is possible (^at.,ihen may* drift into, not a spiritual hfe, guV a religious profe£Bion,,,withp,uf ,being brought at all undeiv^t^idom^io^pl^the^lford^ Christ. :3tg4s 9P* jSft'.^^^jW^pherja

is in the professing Christian world a large amount of more Ruperficialism— a religion which ia little more than pious veneering of the common life. Principles are accepted without proper examination. A profebaion of religion is made in compliance with custom, rather than in obedience to deep-rooted Christian sentiment. Truths are held, but not realised, a*s indwelling forces in tho soul. Is it surprising that when other influences? are brought to play that the grip of truth, never really strong, is gradually relaxed, until it is lost altogether? Tho cure is to be sought only in tho more complete authority of truth over the soul. Take heed to the things which were heard. Let them have their proper sway and dominion over the undovstanding and the hoo-'t, the conscience and the will. One tiling is certain. Traditional opinion?, however venerable and sacred, can never havo over us tho supremacy which belongs to living truth. Nur must truth only be understood or accepted as a matter of logical ini!eience. It must be realised, if it is to have an actual dominion in the soul. Some men trouble themselves at the idea thub certain particular dogmas or opinions are fading out of men's beliols The fnr greater danger is lest those which remain should not have their rightful sway. To us there is no value in a truth unless it purify, onuoble, and inspire us; and of, thesp supposed truths which it is said me pawing out of the creeds how many are there which were opinions, and nothing more. They did not lift men nearer to (Jod ; they did not make them rnoro loyal to Chriet ; tluy dM not in-phe them to bo mote self-denying or courageous and, iv truth, thero was not in them tho power to do this, since they wero little more than opinions on puroly speculative questions. The Gospel will nob suffer by the fact that these speculations are treated as open questions within the pale of Christendom. But it will suffer if the living Christ should become in any sense, unreality to the soul ; if, instead of possessing the heart with a trust that nothing can weaken, and a love that nothing can quench. He should never be fossilised into a dogma, or degraded into the fetish of a sacrament, or lost in the pleasant dream of misty sentiment. Tnko heed that He ever bo presented to the soul in all the fulness of His love, in all the preciousness ot His salvation, in all the authority of His grace. The Christ Himself is the truth vo have heard. Take heed lest you lose the sense of His love. Watch against everything that would make Him less real. Yield up the •oul to be possessed by Him, and He will hold you fast, so that you shall not drift from laith, from holiness, and from God.