SUNDAY READING.

Taranaki Daily News, 8 October 1921, Page 9

SUNDAY READING.

THE SACRED COMMONPLACE “And, behold! the bush burned with fire, and the bus'h was not coneumed.” —Exodus 111. 2. (By Rev. A. H. Colling, New Plymouth.) “Solitude is the mother country of the strong.” If proof be demanded it is found in the experience of Moses hr Midian, and “the strong son of God” m Nazareth, and the great Saint Paul in the desert of Arabia. "Impulses of deepest mood, Come to us in solitude.” This vision of the burning bush came'to Moses on the edge of eighty years, one half of which had been spent in silence and in solitude. If hie life had ended; then, nothing he had done would have given him any place in history. But times of waiting are not times of waste. The upper room prepared the way for Pentecost, and Midian was the preparation for the wilderness wonders. line man who has not learned the art of tarrying until he is “endued with power from on high,” has missed the' secret of Jesus, who would not be hurried into premature disclosure of His divine task. Eighty years’ preparation for forty yeans’ leadership seemed disproportionate, as thirty years’ noiseless waiting in Nazareth seemed needless self-efface-ment; yet these are the facts, and they should be pondered by a precocious age, that imagines that wisdom grows with a beard, and mistakes activity for progress. The wilderness of Midian, with its iinpressive silenee and its illimitable horizon, was a better place to meet with God than the heavy, langorous air and perfumed splendor of Pharaoh’s court. No wait is too long, and no discipline too exacting, which gives life its true direction, and puts a tempered edge on the soul. All the great ■ ministries of the world have found their inspiring, in fellowship with God, whether it be John Howard entering the prisons of Europe, or the “slum sisters” of East London, or Moses freeing a nation of slaves. Contact with the Divine rouse* the mind, gives deftness to the hand, and puts passion in the heart. It was th? vision of the Almighty that stirred Moses to the depth of his spirit. Yet the vision came not in blinding splendor. The sight Moses witnessed was not half so awful as the drama Elijah witnessed [on the same spot centuries later. A clump of acacia bushes ablaze! There i was nothing arresting in that alone. The same thing had happened many a time before, when a spark from the flint of a huntsman had fallen on brushwood baked to a tinder by the desert sun. But Moses was in a reflective mood, and to him the sight became a sign that spoke to his heart of God. It was the glorification of the commonplace. Just as the oft-defeated spider spoke to Bruce taught him to save his country, just as the tuft of moss saved Allingo Park from i despair, so t'he wilderness bramble that burned, but did not burn out, opened the gates through the natural to the supernatural, and seemed to the man of God tne very shrine of Deity. For though the heaven of heavens cannot imprison the Most High. He dwells in the heart ' of a dewdrop, the voiceless lips of flowers are His living preachers, and the silent heavers declare His glory. But Nature tells her secrets to quiet and reflective souls, and is silent to all beside. The wriggling earth-worm says nothing to most of us, but Darwin thought it worthy of prolonged study, with results that startled the world. So humble as was the Httle ragged, sapless thorn bush, springing up and living its solitary life amid thedesert sand, it was not too humble to be a temple of God, was not too gross to burst into lambent flame when He came, and was not too fragile to be gifted with undying life; and such an> we. If God dwells in us, we ehall live as long as He, for the fire God has kindled is an immortal spark.

“I sought for God in star-sown space. Beneath the seas I made a. stair, And laid the primal forges bare. I asked if he were bid Neath cairn and pyramid; I questioned rune and Kann, And bones as old as man.

There was no voice, nor beck,-nor trace. To lull the ache of my despair; Aly lattice-roses touched my face, And God was there.”

You may tell me this is not the chief point. You may eay the interest culminates where the bush burned, but did not burn out. Can you explain that ? Well, if you expect me to give you the rationale of a miracle, I am not equal to the demand. The blazing brilliance may have been due to phosphorescent gleam, or an electric glow, or material fire. I don’t know. No one knows, and the lack of knowledge does not bother me. Life is full of mystery, and religion is not its only sphere. You cannot explain your own finger-nail. By we are schooled to patience, reserve and modesty. The science and philosophy of the burning bush I leave to others. The religion of it is the main thing. The acacia bush did not whittle and waste, for God was there. That is the truth to ponder well. Afoses was a living man because God is the living God. Israel, though dwelling amid the blazing wrath of Pharaoh, lived because Jehovah was death’s destruction. “It is of His mercy we are not consumed.’ There isn’t one of us who might not sing:

“Oft in trial I have been, Alany dangers I have seen, But have been upheld till now, Who could hold me up but Thou?”

Did Aloses read the parable? Did Afoses understand the prophecy? Did ihe look along the vista of years and see the destruction of 'Egypt’s pride and chivalry—the wilderness passed, and he, with eye undimmed and natural force unabated, entered the happier Canaan, than that which spread its verdant fields and sunlit landscape, as he waited translation from Bethpeor’s height? Did he see the Jewish Church living amid the burning anger of seventy years’ captivity? Did he look beyond and behold the Church of the Redeemer still preserved alive through the Neronian persecution? Did he understand how God Himself is searching and cleansing fire, so that what we call everlasting punishment is everlasting mercy—Divine love consuming the dross and refining the gold?

“That nothing moves with aimless fe'et. That not one soul shall be destroyed, Nor cast like rubbish to the void,

When God shall make the pile complete.”

Did Moses sae all this?® Probably not. But we who stand on his shoulders may see farther,

Someone was asiked. if he believed in ghosts, and he answered, “No; 1 have seen tod many.” That was sarcasm;this is sober truth. If I ehould ba asked, “Do you believe in miracles?” my answer would be, “Yes, for I have seen so many. My own life is a miracle. I have seen the bush burn and not burn out. I have seen scanty fare for one make a royal feast for two. I have seen the dead rise at the voice of the Son of God.” Miracles? Aye! we are encircled by them day by day. If the wonders of the Old Testament are the inventions of men, the inventors must have been dull and prosy men, lacking’ in poetry and insight, for the every-day happenings of modern life are more wonderful. Puck, that mischievous sprite of "A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” said: “I'll put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes.” But Puck was too slow. We girdle the earth in forty seconds! Voices of the dead past sing to us Tn the phonograph. Actions of the living and the dead move across the picture screen. One instant the city lies in darkness and the next is aiflaze with light! How was it done? By the moving of a switch! Was the burning bush more wonderful? Was the crossing of the Red. 'Sea a greater mir- , acle than Sir Ross Smith’s flight around

the world in his airship? > David slew Goliath with sling and stone, because the sling carried further than the lunge of the giant’s javelin. But a British rifle kills at a thousand yards, and naval guns strike with a thunderbolt ships twenty miles away! Any one of these things would have been declared unbelievable by our fathers, but yesterday’s marvels are eclipsed by the doings of today, and the greatest miracles are just the glorification of the commonplace. If you would escape the miraculous you must exchange earth for Afara, and even then miracles may follow you. Years ago, says Hillis, a poor Italian went out to a sandy waste -in California- He could not have chosen a spot more sterile. Something must have whispered to his heart, “Son of man, can these dry bones live?” and he answered, “Yes, they can.” For he planted a vineyard; acre by acre it grew until it became too great for one man, and a corporation was formed; and to-day it is the most productive vineyard in a State of vineyards. The reason? Because one scorching summer day the roan scooped with bare hands, and found the hot sand moist; then he struck the rock and tapped the spring! Clever son of Italy? Aye, clever enough- to co-operate with God instead of working against Him. That’s all. “Father, what’s that?” said a boy, as the storm flame darted across the dark sky. The boy was Benjamin Franklin. “Lightning,” said his father. “I don’t believe it is lightning,” replied the lad. “I’ll catch some.” So he ’ wrought the marvel of bottling some bluish stuff, and studied it. He did not discover much except that it was not lightning. Presently another man examined it. “I know what it is,” said Morse, “it is a messenger; I’ll teach it the alphabet and send it on errands.” Another passed that way and said, “Alorse is mistaken; it is not a messenger. It is too quick: it is a candle.” So he twisted it into an incandescent lamp, and midnight glowed like noon. “Candle,

indeed,” said another, scornfully, “it is a speaking trampet.” and he coiled it in a telephone box, and set the world, talking miles apart, in a stage whisper. Thus does the world of wonders grow, and miracles sleep in the busy brains of men! You object that these are the works’of men; but I answer, “No, these are the works of God the Almighty wrought through men.” He spoke to Moses by the 'blazing broom-bush. He spoke to Franklin by some blue stuff caught and corked in a bottle; He speaks to you and me in daily providences, and, last of all, and most clearly, He has spoken to us by His Son, “the root out of a dry ground, the bush that burned and shall never burn out. “Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”