SUNDAY READING

Taranaki Daily News, 3 December 1921, Page 9

SUNDAY READING

THE ENDURANCE OF CHRIST. “For consider Him who endured such gainsaying of sinners against themselves, that ye wax not weary, fainting in your souls.” —Heb. XII. 3. (By Rev. A. H. Collins, New Plymouth.) The eleventh chapter of this anonymous letter consists of a series of sharp, clean-cut, cameos of men who “through faith’ wrought righteousness,” lightning sketches of great souls who lived at the dawn of human history. In swift succession, and with a single stroke of his deft pencil, the inspired artist depicts Abel with the smoke of his sacrifice curling skyward; Noah turning aside from his daily task to build an ark for safety, wdien there was not so much as a fleck of cloud on the horizoh; Abraham steeling his heart against home and kin, that he may go out in quest of the living God and a vital faith; Moses refusing royal favors, and putting himself at the head of a rabble host, that he might kindle in their dull hearts the sense of manhood which Pharoah had well nigh whipped out oL them. Th e and others like them make up the Bede Roll of Hebrew heroes, a true

saints calendar of the Jewish Church. It is a noble recital of great-souled, high-minded men and women, whose liw's are shining examples of simple fidelity i and sublime courage. As much as if this nameless author would say: “'Behold this cloud of godly witnesses in a godless .age! See how, amid deep shadows and awful shame, these ancients held on to j unseen realities, and schooled their hearts to patience and hope.” I These heroes arc described as “witnesses,” and we use tflio word in the double sense of spectators and martyrs, as those who see and those who suffer. It is (in the second sense the word is used in this connection. They bore Witness to ; the point of martyrdom. Witness of

■what? First, to the fact that human nature, our human nature, is capable of ■chaste and chivalrous deeds, and that is la truth wezneed to have drummed in our •ears. Some of bur modern writers make ; sport for the Philistines by sneering at (human virtue. Tibciir heroes are villains. Their plot represents the seamy side of life. They tell ns “Every man has bis price,” and having done their vile work, they cry: “This is the stuff of which man is made! These are the sons of your gods! These are your immortals!” But half truths are ever the most obi stinate of lies, and such representations I qf man are half truths, and the baser ' half to boot. You do not understand ! Ci - om«vell when you have studied the wart on his. cheek. A modern city must 1 not be estimated by its mental hospital land its gaol. Human nature must not be [judged’ by the society journal and [freak parties. Human nature must be judged by its best, and not by its worst, by its saiints and heroes, and not by its rascals and its deadbeats, by its Saint Johns and not by its Caligulas, by “the glorious company of the apostles” and

j not by the criminal! classes. Florence I Nightingale is a truer representative of i womanhood than Becky Sharp, and | Adam Bode than Pecksniff. These sun I crowned souls hear witness to the nobility, in life and deed, possible to men when stirred by the breath of the Alin ighty. I solemnly charge fou to refuse to believe that human nature is evil and only evil. Refuse to accept the z dictum that ingratitude and treachery and Ines exercise lordship over human hearts. Great is the mystery of inquity. but greater still the mystery of godliness! The world as we know it seems hard and cruel and selfish in our hours of gloom; but there is another and a better side. The wonder is not that people’ are so bad: the wonder is that they are so good. There is more kindness than cruelty, more blessing than cursing, more love than hate. People would ratlher hdlp a friend than hinder a foe. rather do good than evil any day, and the good men do. all unconsciously, rise in ceaseless praises to the throne of God. Prate how we will about the dogma of “total depravity.” No motlher believes it when she looks into the cradle of her firstborn, or lover when he looks into the eyes of his befloved. But the worth of their witness lies, not so much in great and shining gifts as jn thoir massive goodness. Greatness alone is seldom attractive; it awes rather than wins. Tn the city of Rome there stands Michael Angelo’s statue of Moses. The stern law-giver is represented with long hair streaming over his mantle, and as you gaze on the figure a sense of solemn

wonder smites the heart. Admiration is lost in dread. So it is when greatness is divorced from goodness. But when the “pillars” which are for “strength” are crowned with the “lily work” which is for “beauty”: when* the sturdy oak is graced with the clematis and the rose, the eye is pleased and the heart is refreshed. So with this shining rank. They witness to the world that chief amongst the working forces of the world is goodness. They project themselves across the centuries, because they gave themselves in utter hardihood, and unflinching courage. to the doing of God’s will, and scorned the consequences. They witness to the immortality of infloence. Death has not touched them. Bravely they tciiled for issues they could not see. They devoted their lives to God, and died without seeing the fruit, but when the c- :, v of God shall stand complete, those

who dug the foundations will rejoice equally with those who shall rear the capstone. But if this wonderful epistle had ended with the eleventh chapter, none of us would have been satisfied. I do not say the record wjnild have been valueless, for it is a groat thing to have been introduced to such illustrious company, but we should have suffered from a sense of incompleteness. It would have been like a splendid picture with the central figure loft out. The example of the Saints is fine, but it falls short of the best. The eleventh chapter needed the twelfth to complete it. We are grateful for the story of Abid and Noah, and Abraham, the story of Moses, and Sam-

son, and Jepthah; but there is one greater than those to whom all the i Saints cry aloud, saying: “Thou art the | King of Glory, O Christ!” And so, when this obscure writer had recounted the (names and deeds of men who lend such lustre to the old Testament, he crowns I the record by recalling the Master Himjself. “Read the story of the Saints.” he j seems to say; “steep your mind, fire | your imagination, kindle your heart at. i their story; but ponder and worship : Him who endured; consider the Lord of |Men and Angels.” And this is still the i way of wisdom. Back to Jesus Christ i is still the road to a simpler faith, a purer ethic, and an accession of spiritual power. The permanent value of the law and their prophets is their witness to the Christ. .The sacrifices of the Levitljcal code point to the Lamb of God.

David’s harp thrillled to his praise. Isaiah’s vision points to the place called Calvary, where the bramble s-pikes ran red. The Gospels an dEpistles had never been written but to tell the story of His life and death. The weird and wonderml chapters of the Apocalype culminate .n the throned Lamb and the redeemed standing on a sea of glass. Read the story of the saints and martyrs; harken to their witness; copy their heroisms; imitate their faith; but consider Jesus Christ, for our tangled national policies, our social frictions. and our religious differences will never come right until He is considered, K trusted and followed. Note, however, that the special aspect, of Jes<us Christ’s character we are bidden to ponder is His endurance. “'Consider Him who endured such contradiction of sinners.” These Hebrews were menaced by special difficulty. It was a time of revoilubionary change. The old order was

passing away. Evi) was enthroned and aggressive. Persecution was rampant. "The Christians to the lions” was the slogan of the hour. The smell of burning pitch* was*in the air. Sinister black spots were in the Emperor’s pleasure grounds. The world of thought’ was heaving like a sea in a storm, and truth was being cast in new forms of expression. The church needed nerve, and the one way to get it was to “consider Him” who lived so victoriously. Poor from the cradle, with none of the alleviations money can buy, confronted by suspicion, His motive challenged, His deeds misjudged. His spirit maligned, doubted by His brethren, forsaken by His friends, kissed and betrayed < by judas, taunted by the mob, denied justice by His Roman judge. He held on His way in victorious calm! But physical pain was not and is not the hardest part. To .any man of sensitive "Hionor to Tie under a charge of evil deeds from which the spirit shrinks, as the flesh from a live spark, is harder than anything else. “A wounded spirit, who can bear it?” Men said, that Jesus was in collusion with devils! Wickedness pressed in upon Him on every side. All the sin of the world seemed to rush out upon Him. Imagine a case. Think of a vicious family. Father and mother drunken; their sons are gaol birds, their daughters impure, all save one, and she is sensitive, refined and pure—a human lily 5 growing up amid thorns and “stinkwort !” The others don’t mind —the disgrace is nothing to them—but she, poor girl, feels the burden of it. The crimes and discredits of the family meet in her heart like a sheaf of spears.. Their cruelty and neglect are nothing compared with the blot, on the family name. Now that was the place Christ took. “He was numbered with the transgressors and bore the sins of many.” He who knew no sin was made to sin for us.” He whose holy soul shivered at the touch of defilement as when rough hands strike harp strings, “was wounded for our transgressions.” Yet the writer does not dwell on the physical anguish, but ■

on the sublime endurance. In a world like this Christ could not suffer less than He did. The wonder is not that He suffered; the wonder is that He bore it all so calmly. Once or twice He visibly winced. Once or twice His face twitched and His cheeks grew white. Once He turned to the Father in a spasm of pain and prayed for respite. For the rest Ho endured. If tears fell, it was in secret. He asked no sympathy. He refused a drug to dull the pain. He locked. His lips and lived through it. Does that seem far away from the pinch of things? W<* shall not suffer martyrdom or die on a cross for trutji’s sake. Perhaps npt; and yet there are times when endurance is a finer thing than daring' deeds To take slights, misrepresentation. failure and loss., and say nothing about it; to go on without applause or visible success; to be just faithful to your task and your ideals, is that easy? Is it? A little’ child fell under the fett of an elephant, which seemed likely to stamp out its life. When the danger was passed, the child was asked what were its thoughts, and he said: “I just asked Jesus to help mo to keep quite still.” Wheq, the ponderous things of life conic stamping past and •threaten disaster, it is a simple and sublime thing to ask Jesus to help us to keep qiStp still, and it will help if we “consider Him who endured such gainsaying o£ sinners.”