SUNDAY READING

Taranaki Daily News, 2 September 1916, Page 9

SUNDAY READING

CHANGE AND THE UNCHANGEABLE. 'SERMON PREACHED BY REV. A. If. COLYILE, M.A., AT ST. MARY'S CHURCH. NEW PLYMOUTH. "Thou, Lord, in the. beginning hast laid t(ie foundation of the earth, and the heavens arc the work of Thv hands; they .shall perish, but Thoii shalt endure. "They all shall wax old like a garment, and as a vesture Thou fthalt change them and they shall be changpd: I'iit. Thou are the same.-"—P*. 102 20=27. Wihat a dilTerence there always has been between the Eastern and Western worlds in their views of change. If it he true that "Sever the twain shall meet," it is very largely because of this fundamental difference! Although one great Eastern at least., whom we are proud to claim as our Ally is undoubtedly drawing nearer to western ideals and customs and habits (though very wisely not swallowing all), I think it is true to say that to Easterners generally cfoamgo has always been a disturbing factor; it has seined to contradict their deepest instincts. They have generally regarded change suspiciously as an unreal thing, a flickering shadow cast upon the eternal calm by the unfortunate restlessness of man, and have endeavored to escape from it by detachment, by withdrawal, striving deliberately to live below the surface of their own lives, and looking out thence upon the changing world with the dreamy eyes of contemplation. How differently do we of the Western races think of life. The unchangeable, whether in the .world without or in the human mind, would seem, if it could be discovered, to have little attraction for us. We think rather contemptuously of anyone or Miything that remains the same through' all change. "Oh," we say, "So-and-so isn't an inch further on than he was twenty years ago." or "such-and-surih a town is exactly the same as it was when I first went there." To us what is unchanging is dull and stagnant, tame and uninteresting—"unprogressive"' is the condemnatory adjective we apply to it. And we feel just the same about spiritual things. Anyone who is spiritually alive cannot do with what is placid, stodgy, prejudiced in religion; anything calling itself spiritual in a Church or an individual that is hard and fixed and immovable has no sort of attraction for us. And here, surely, our instinct is true. Creation did not finish Avhen God "in the beginning laid the foundations of the earth." 'Die Lord and Giver of life is always giving, always creating,

OPENING UP Os'EW AVENUES OF SPIRITUAL THOUGHT, leading us into new spiritual adventures, inspiring within us ''new thoughts of God, new hopes of Heaven.'' The spiritual life of man is always changing, always moving., but towards what? 'Hare is our danger, 'Jest we forget." To what goal are we moving? What is the great ultimate purpose behind and beyond this constant change and movement? Are we not tempted to forget by the very restlessness of our lives the great unchanging ,God and Him Who is "the same yesterday, to-day and forever." My friends, never perhaps ini the history of tlic world was it more necessary to steady our lives by the thought of the unchanging God than it is to-day. The passion for change, for something new, has reached in our age the most intense expression that the world has ever seen. Our fathers, for instance, were for the most part content to remain all their lives in one village or town. They were settlers. To most of us the thought of "settling" anywhere permanently would be most distasteful. The population swings to and fro .like a tide. Even in a small town like this people are always "shifting," as they say, and in a big town like Auckland there is a continual eddy round the circle of the suburbs. Again, if anything is wrong with our health or spirits, the first remedy wo think of is a change. "You must get away for a bit,'' says a doctor (thoroughly good advice, no doubt); while the increased means of locomotion and the variety and cheapness of entertainment have intensified this restless spirit. The vary phrase "moving pictures" is a sign of the restlessness of the times. There are people whom we all know who seem to have been bitten by the gadfly of restlessness. It is almost impossible for them to be quiet for an hour. To sit still for a whole evening and read or think would seem to them a wiekwl waste of time. And it is 'hard for the unquiet spirit to pray. A very few minutes for evening prayers is difficult enough. So in the multitude of their activities, sometimes useful, often very trivial, the great Unchangeable is forgotten; "be still and know that I urn God" has no message for their souls, and there is nothing steadfast on which to stay their hearts in the day of evil tidings. So it is in the religious life of the Church. There is, as I have reminded you, necessarily and rightly in religion

THE CAPACITY MR CHANGE AND 'DEVELOPMENT. The Holy Spirit is a progressive teacher. He is the Guider and Controller of the inner life and the Developer of the spiritual instinct. Now there is danger lest the restlessness of modern life should break away from all spiritual guidance and throw off all spiritual control, and become impatient of all spiritual development. People drift about irresolutely from one church to another. They take up with some weird and fantastic religion, and because, perhaps, it contains one little nugget of truth t'l\ink that they have discovered -tlit whole gold mine. Disappointed, they soon pass on and try something else. They leave the church in which they have been baptised because they think they .have outgrown its creeds, and straightway embrace another form of religion which demands the utmost credulity, and the flat denial of all common-sense. There is something terribly pathetic about all this restlessness. Surely it does not prove that man is consciously forsaking God. Nay, it shows rather that the soul of man is becoming so ravenously hungry for spiritual food' that it can swallow anything; yet there is danger, danger in the shallow thought, "■anything for a change," danger lest in the multitude of dishes men are keen to taste they get spiritual indigestion suvd turn away fwrni good wholesome food, danger lest f)he spiritual life of man become unbalanced and lie drift further and further from bis only sure moorings—the unchanging and unchangeable God and that steadfast "Rock of Ages" the love of Christ Jesus our Lord.

And is not true, my friend, that that which changes can never really satisfy the soul, 'and is not that fact constantly brought hoine to us? One of tile commonest disappointments which comes to us in this life is the tUinngoableiies* of our fellow creatures. Our natural instinct, the child's instinct, is to trust others, but we soon learn, and that without becoming cynics, how few are completely and absolutely loyal and steadfast? Personality as we know it in mankind is an uncertain and variable thing—a parsing mood, a sudden temptation, tlie company in which people find themselves, and love is disappointed' and trust betrayed. We know how often this happens, bow constantly we are disappointed in the steadfastness even of those who care for us, and yet it is our instinct to seek for someone who is

ABSOLUTELY UNCHANGEABLE, and the very strength of this instinct embitters the disappointment. One of the psalmists has expressed it for us in words that many sad hearts have, echoed: "It was not an open enemy that lias done me this dishonor, for then I could have borne it . . . but it was even thou my companion, my guide and my familiar friend." That is what makes the tragedy of many a friendship, of many a marriage; if. when so muc'h is promised and hoped, you find that what is promised is denied, and what was expected has found too high a standard. There may be love, remember, through it all. Peter loved Christ devotedly, and yet—"l know not the man." The truth is that there cannot be in human life and human love that perfect uncihangeableness for which we long. Not many live men and women are allowed to go through the world without feeling the pang of disappointment with others strike through the heart. And so, too, with ourselves. In spite of our restlessness, which, as f have reminded you. the conditions of mode™ life intensify, we do long to lind something certain and sure within, something that will give rest to our souls. We think that we are tired of our surroundings, when the truth is we are tired of ourselves. We constantly look forward some change of place, of circumstances, of companions, hoping that it will mean, greater peace and happiness and stability to our lives. "I can never be satisfied here," we think, "but when I get away to some other place it will be different," and I am not denying that change of scene and surroundings do often give temporary relief to the jangled nerves and the tired brain. But change in itself is a cumulative poison. The more you have the more you want, and the greater your restlessness, so that yon may travel the world over in search of peace, and it does but happen to you as to the poet, "When you are at Rome you would be at Naples, and when you are at Naples you would be at Rome," and that because the .restlessness is within, deep in your soul, and the cure is not to be found in tlie changing .world outside.

Where, then, shall we find the satisfaction of that instinct for what does not change, which expresses a great need in your natures? For remember what it is we really need —not monotony, not sameness which arises from the incapacity to be anything different, but a personal unchanging love in which we can rest, on which we can stay both our minds and hearts, and which we are assured abides for ever. That is what we all need. That alone will satisfy; and that is why we carniot find an eternal peace in any created thing. There are many people, sad and disappointed with others and with themselves, who discover .a certain healing power in the wonders of Xature, the beauties of God's 'handiwork. The sight of the sea, the return of the spring, the whispering of the trees, the majesty of the everlasting hills, can minister comfort to the bruised heart and the aching soul. Y'es. thank God. Nature celebrates day by day the sacrament of consolation to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. Yet these things, too, are changing and will perish. And how can these things satisfy a human heart that craves an eternal love? We are not all poets and mystics. Would we not rather

SEEK FOR WHAT SATISFIES in conscious Human life rather than' in unconscious nature? Is it not true that tlic snow which rests upon the mountain top and glistens in the sun is less beautiful than the poorest soul that 'lias kept itself unspotted from the world and reflects the light of God's love? Is not the constancy of the stars less wonderful than the determination of the weak-will-ed drunkard who for once lias said "Xo"? And is the majesty of the eternal hills so appealing as the trustful love of a little child? Yes, surely, it is in a conscious active life that- we seek and shall •Jind the satisfaction of our depest need. ■And here the Hebrew poets and prophets who gave us the psalms have shown us the truth 'and have indeed found, a sure point of reconciliation between Eastern and Western temperament, between Eastern and Western thought. "Thou. Lord, in the beginning hast laid the foundations: they shall perish but Thou s'halt endure. . . . Thou art the same." This Hebrew writer found the unchangeable not in th« created thing but in the Creator. By simplicity of mind and swift intuition he jfound himself in the presence of One Who need not be thought iabout as distant, noj' argued with as unknown-, but Spoken to as present; One of the same nature as ourselves. Who in Jesus Chrwt enters closely, intimately into every phase of conscious, active human life with understanding, purpose, love, but without the fickleness, the possibility of disappointing us which we too often find in human personality. It is a tremendous thought, the grandest that has ever dawned on the mind of man; -hack and back to it men come, back and back upon it they aire thrown, and the thought itself rests'them and takes away heartache and desolation. Dwell on that thought, my friends, now in these days ! of doubt aiid fear, when life itself seems j'sb uncertain, when many hearts are trembling for those who are far away, and the <lread of swift and sudden change has taken hold of us. Remember this one unfailing, abiding thing—the eternal love of God that cannot change. "Thoy shall perish, hut Thou shalt endure." Let everything human fail us, let all the circumstances of our life change, and our friends slip away from our .sight into the life beyond. Aye, let the heavens depart, the stars grow dim, the earth crumble away, but still Cod remains more to every living soul than Nature in her finest mood, more than '■what we long for Humanity to be. Let us lift up our faltering hearts to Him, and lean -our frail minds upon His unchanging strength, tuid amid all the changes and chances of this mortal life we shall know that "His greatness flows airowml our incompleteness, Round our restlessness His rest."