inability of the members of God's family to recognize and do their own
work. One of them, and that not the least, is the loss to the member
himself—a loss of opportunities of usefulness, and of growth in grace.
The member which is never used in its appropriate office loses its
vigor, and often becomes paralyzed beyond recovery. We have all heard
of the East Indian devotees, who hold their hands above their heads
till they grow into that position, and cannot be taken down; and I
have somewhere read of a nun who never used her hands, but kept them
clasped in the attitude of prayer till the joints became useless. We
think such conduct a horrible misuse of God's gifts, and rightly; but
we should do well to examine ourselves, lest we fall into the same
error with respect to our spiritual faculties. But as a limb which has
been partly paralyzed by misuse or disuse may often be restored by care
and exercise, so no one need despair of regaining a good measure of
usefulness, however faulty they may have been in the past.
Another trouble is that the uselessness of some members of the body
throws additional work on the others. Everyone knows that when the skin
refuses its office, the lungs and other bodily organs are overworked,
and often become diseased in consequence. Think, for a moment, what
would be the effect if the work of any ordinary parish were fairly
divided among those who were able to do their share, though that share
were ever so little. Suppose, for instance, that every woman who is
able should lay by two cents a week for the women's auxiliary, and
should devote one hour a week to working for it! Suppose that every man
capable of teaching a class of boys should next Sunday offer to do so!
Suppose every church-member who has not a valid excuse should be ready
to undertake any piece of work pointed out by the rector! A venerable
saint of God once remarked that there were in almost every church two
classes of willing members—a small class who were willing to do all the
work, and a large class who were willing they should. How would the
labors of the first class be lightened if the second class would awake
to their duty!
Dear friends, let us examine ourselves whether we are doing our duty as
members of the Church, which is the Lord's body. Let us see whether we
have been shrinking or standing idly aside, and in the way of others,
as idle folk almost always are. And if we find, after honest inquiry,
that such has been the case, let us resolve that it shall be so no
more. Let us ask forgiveness for all that is past, and with humility
and docility strive hereafter, in the words of the catechism, "to do
our duty in that state of life to which it shall please God to call us."
Neh. iv. Rom. xii.
_SIXTH WEDNESDAY IN LENT._
_THE HOUSEHOLD OF GOD.—Continued._
ONE of the principal duties of the members of the household or family
is loyalty—faithfulness to their head and to each other. The word
covers a great deal. So far as our Great Head is concerned, it means
obedience first of all—constant, unquestioning, cheerful obedience.
That, and that alone, is the true test of our love; as He Himself tells
us: "He that hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that
loveth Me." "He that loveth Me not, keepeth not my sayings." (S. John
xiv. 21-24.) We are to obey, not when we feel like it, not when it is
easy, not alone when we are in the society of fellow-disciples, but at
all times, and in all places. Without such loyalty, no protestations
of affection, no outbursts of enthusiasm, no efforts of church or
missionary zeal, are of any value in the sight of our Master.
We are "to keep and 'seek for' all the commandments of the Lord our
God." (1 Chron. xxviii. 8) We are to study His written Word diligently,
and not only so, but we are to watch carefully for indications
of His will in our everyday lives for occasions of obedience and
service. There is not one of us but can see, on looking back, a
hundred occasions of doing God service, which we have allowed to pass
unimproved simply from the want of watchfulness. The little events of
our daily lives are so many angel messengers bringing words from our
dear Head, but too often we do not see their lovely faces, because we
never look at them till they have passed us by.
The path of obedience is not always made smooth and easy for us, any
more than it was for our Leader. The gate is strait, the path is
narrow, the hills are high, the waters deep. It was when the disciples
were crossing the lake in obedience to the Lord's command that they met
with the storm. It was when they were laboring in His cause that they
were to be scourged and stoned and slandered by the very people they
were trying to benefit. Our very carefulness and zeal for Him may lead
us into collision, yes, even with our fellow-servants. But what then?
The disciple is not above his Master, nor the servant above his Lord.
He has never promised us an easy journey. It is much that He has placed
in our way many a living spring and many a flower and shady tree, and
that He shows us, from time to time, from His Delectable Mountains, a
view of that Celestial City which is to be our journey's end.
We are to be loyal not in deed only, but in word as well; and, strange
as it may sound, I believe this latter kind of loyalty to be rather
more rare than the former. There are many disciples who will obey
the Master, often at a great sacrifice, who will never open their
lips for Him. They will hear His name lightly spoken of, His claims
derided or denied, and never open their mouths in His defense or to
assert their own faith in Him. They will believe Him to be the only
way of salvation, and yet never make one effort to bring to Him their
servants, their work-people, even their own children. An officer who
should behave in this way where the honor of his flag was concerned
would have the straps torn from his shoulders. We need not sound a
trumpet before us, nor make any parade of our own goodness; but we can,
and we ought always, to own our allegiance to Him, and to speak for
Him. And to the end that we may do this, we must take care to walk so
that our lives shall not contradict our words, and that we may speak
from our own experience. "We have seen Him!" is the argument which no
infidel can answer.
Is. lviii. S. John xiv.
_SIXTH THURSDAY IN LENT._
_THE HOUSEHOLD OF GOD.—Continued._
THE members of a family or household owe a duty, not only to their
head, but to each other. They are bound in honor to help one another
when help is needed, to sustain each other in trials, and to bear each
other's burdens; and the honor of one is the honor of all, and the
shame of one is the shame of all.
So it is in the Church, which is the household of God. We are members
of one body, and so of each other. If one member suffers, others suffer
with it; and not one can grow in spiritual grace and strength without
directly or indirectly benefiting others. If one member is poor or
afflicted in mind, body, or estate, his fellows are bound to help him.
If he be assailed with slander or detraction, the others are bound to
defend him; and so on to the end of the chapter.
I suppose that no one—certainly no church-member—will deny that these
words are true in theory; there are many, thank God, to whom they are
true in practice. Would to God they were so to all! But, alas! to how
many are those with whom they worship on Sunday, with whom they kneel
at the chancel rail even, of no more real interest than the horses
they pass in the street. How many will sit next to a person in church
for years, and never exchange a greeting. How many actually look
down on their fellows who work for a living, or who are not of their
particular set! A woman has been known to object to the formation of a
church guild because "it would bring in everybody on an equal footing.
We would rather confine the thing to our own set." It is to be hoped
such extreme instances are rare; but that rector or church worker is
exceptionally happy who has never found his efforts for the good of the
parish hampered by such feelings and prejudices.
Again, a woman in poor or even moderate circumstances will not go to
church herself, or send her children to Sunday-school, because she
cannot dress herself or them as well as somebody with twice her means.
She is always looking out for affronts, and resents every kindness and
attention as an attempt at patronage.
Nor is this the worst. Members of the same church will not be content
with neglect or mere passive envy. They will actually try to injure
one another. It is a shame to have to say it, but it is true. A man or
woman will kneel at the altar with another, and partake the emblems of
their dying Saviour's love. They will do this, and then, before they
are fairly out of sight of the church door, will repeat a scandalous
story to that person's disadvantage—a story which they do not know
to be true, and which there would be no use in telling if it were.
Two communicants will quarrel, and keep up a grudge for years. I have
known a person leave her parish church and go to another because, as
she said, she could not go to the communion with such an one; as if
the Lord's body were divided into parishes! So the Lord is shamed and
wounded in the house of His friends, and the world says, ironically,
"See how these Christians love one another!"
Oh, dear friends, fellow members of Christ, saved by the same infinite
love and pity, washed in the same atoning blood, ought these things
so to be? Are we not fasting for strife and debate when we pretend to
keep Lent? Have we not all one Father? Has not God created us? "Why do
we deal treacherously, every man against his brother?" (Mal. ii. 10.)
Can the eye say to the hand, "I have no need of thee!" or, again, the
head to the feet, "I have no need of you!" (1 Cor. xii. 21.) Can we
wonder that the world does not care for the Church, while it sees the
members of the church so indifferent, to say the least, to one another?
Oh, let this holy season see every grudge renounced, every feeling of
envy or pride put away, every quarrel made up! Let the blessed feast of
Easter see us working and praying and loving as one in our risen Lord!
So shall we be meet partakers of that Holy Table. So shall the power of
the Church for good be increased a thousand-fold, and the Lord pour out
a blessing till there shall be no room to receive it.
Mal. ii. 1 Cor. xii.
_SIXTH FRIDAY IN LENT._
_THE HOUSEHOLD OF GOD.—Continued._
WE must never forget that we are members of our Lord's great family,
wherever we may be. The earthly family tie is not broken by absence,
by distance, or even by death. The brother in California, the father
on the distant frontier, are the brother and father still, followed
by faithful prayers, by fond wishes, and remembered with tender tears
at every family anniversary. Even though the wanderer be a prodigal
as well, though it come to this, that his name is never heard, yet he
is not forgotten. His place is empty, and must remain so, because it
can be filled by none but himself. He may have forgotten his duty and
renounced his family name, but the tie of blood is still there, and he
cannot break it if he would.
It is so in the Household of God. Once a member, always a member. We
may wander away, we may ignore our duties and forget our birthright;
like the prodigal, we may journey into a far country and waste our
substance—which is not ours, but our Father's—with riotous living;
but though rebellious, we are His children still. But not to speak of
that case at present, let us look a little at one or two others. You,
my friend, have not been to church in months, perhaps years. You are
shut up by illness or infirmity, and cannot go into the house of the
Lord. It is a great misfortune, no doubt; and yet it is not as bad
as it might be. You are not cut off from the Lord's family, nor even
from the services of the sanctuary. With your Bible and prayer-book
you can follow the Church services throughout the Christian year. Some
kind friend will keep you informed of the work that is going on in the
parish, and you may perhaps be able now and then to give it a little
help. Your church paper or missionary magazine will tell you the news
of the Church at large, and you can at least follow with your prayers
the good enterprises of which the time is so full. And if you cannot
go to the Holy Communion, your pastor will gladly bring it to you. It
is a wonder to me that invalids do not oftener avail themselves of
this great privilege. Many persons seem to think it a service reserved
for dying hours. "Has your sister had the Holy Communion since she was
sick?" was the question asked of an intelligent English woman. "Oh,
no!" was the answer, in a tone of surprise, "we do not think her in any
danger." It is to be feared that too many look on this ordinance as
a kind of magic rite, by which they are somehow to be bewitched into
Heaven at last, however they may have neglected it in their lifetime.
To those who are by absence deprived of the services of our Church I
would say the same. Never allow yourself to forget your church ties,
any more than you would forget your family relations on account of
absence, but cherish them all the more. I would not have you stay away
from the public worship of your fellow-Christians, or refuse to help
them in their good works. On the contrary, I would have you assist them
in every possible way, and maintain the most friendly relations with
them. But never, never forget your own household of faith. If possible
let no Sunday or holy day pass without joining in her worship. Work for
her, pray for her, speak for her, at all proper times. How often has it
happened that one such faithful member has been the seed from which has
grown a vine bearing fruit unto eternal life! You cannot be deprived
of all church privileges so long as you have your prayer-book, and if
you use faithfully what you have, the Lord will send you others. Above
all things, never allow yourself to forget that you are a member of the
Lord's body.
It is possible that this book may fall into the hands of some one who
has forgotten his birthright, who, like the Scripture prodigal, has
gone into a far country, and is trying to satisfy the hunger of his
soul with the husks of this world—with money or land, or low, vile
pleasures fit only for swine. To such an one let me say, your place in
your Father's house and heart and table is still open to you. No one
has taken it. No one ever will take it. It stands waiting for you, and
unless you come home to occupy it, it must stand forever empty. Oh, my
brother, my sister, remember that you are still God's child! You must
be so, you cannot help yourself. Rebellious you may be, disobedient,
ungrateful, lost to love, even to shame; you are still the child of
God. Even though you have never been baptized in His name. He created
you, and He has cared for you all these years. Return, then, to His
House and His love while there is yet time, lest at last the door
should be shut, and you be left to yourself, an orphan in the universe.
Dan. iv. St. Luke xv.
_SATURDAY BEFORE PALM SUNDAY._
_THE ALABASTER BOX._
THE selections of Holy Scripture set forth for the days of Holy Week
are so abundant and so important that any one who studies them as they
deserve will have little time for any other reading. * I propose,
therefore, merely to glance at some one event of each particular day,
following the chronology adopted by Dean Farrar.
* For the same reason I have named no selections from the Bible.
After the excitement which followed the raising of Lazarus, our Lord
withdrew from Jerusalem to a little city called Ephraim, on the edge
of the desert, where He seems to have spent some weeks in quiet and
restful retirement with His disciples. Six days before the Passover
He returned to the neighborhood of Jerusalem. He did not, however,
enter the city immediately, but betook Himself to the little village
of Bethany, the home of His chosen friends Mary and Martha, and their
brother Lazarus. It was at a supper made for their honored guest that
Mary's full heart overflowed in that offering which has made her name
sweet through all the ages, and on which her Lord bestowed the emphatic
commendation, "She hath done what she could."
She hath done what she could! She gave her Lord the very best of all
that she possessed—the alabaster vase of precious perfume, costly as
gold; an article of luxury, even with the rich. Are we doing the same?
Do we give Him the best of our time, our means, our labors? Or do we,
like the covetous Jews rebuked by the prophet, offer Him only that
which no one else will thank us for? "Cursed be the deceiver who hath
in his flock a male, and voweth and sacrificeth unto the Lord a corrupt
thing." (Mal. i. xiii.)
She hath done what she could! If she had been able to offer no more
than a bunch of sweet herbs gathered in the fields, we cannot doubt
that the offering would have been as acceptable to the Lord of earth
and sky as the costly ointment. He to whom belong the cattle upon a
thousand hills was as well pleased with the turtle doves—the sacrifice
of the very poorest—as with the oxen and sheep of the prince in Israel.
Let us never hesitate to give what we can because the gift is small.
She hath done what she could! It was her love which made the offering
acceptable. She first gave herself (2 Cor. viii. 5), and the rest
followed, as a matter of course. Let us honestly offer and present to
the Lord ourselves, our souls and bodies, our powers, our very weakness
and hindrances, and having done so, let us, as some old divine says,
"keep ourselves on the altar," taking back nothing of all that we have
given. The altar shall sanctify the gift, and make it as worthy of our
Lord's acceptance as was Mary's box of precious perfume.
_PALM SUNDAY._
_CHILDREN IN THE TEMPLE._
THE great event of the day was over. The Lord had come to Jerusalem,
fulfilling the words of the prophet. His had been a triumphal entry,
and for a little time it seemed, indeed, as if the world had gone
after Him. Only He Himself knew how evanescent would be the feeling in
his favor. Only He knew that some of the very tongues which had cried
"Hosanna!" would in no long time be as ready to cry, "Crucify Him!"
But there were other voices—innocent voices—to which the Lord could
listen with delight. The little children in the temple, who had
followed Him thither with their parents—possibly also those employed in
the musical service—continued to repeat the shouts of the multitudes
on the Mount of Olives, and the spacious courts resounded with their
shrill hosannas. His enemies were all the more enraged, and would have
silenced them, but the Lord refused, and justified their action. "Yea,
have ye never heard, Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings Thou hast
perfected praise"?
Nowadays the children's place in the temple is too often vacant. One
sees but seldom what was once the most common of Sunday sights—the
long, orderly rows of children, big and little, filling the pews on
Sunday. I cannot recollect when I first went to church, but I well
remember what a deprivation it was to be kept at home. If the morning
service was thought too long for the very little ones, they were taken
in the afternoon. But the afternoon service has been turned into the
evening, when the children cannot come out (it being considered by
careful mothers much more dangerous to take them to church than to
dancing-school); and at the morning service the clergyman may look over
twenty pews and not see half a dozen children.
Surely this is not right. Surely the praises of the little ones are as
acceptable now as they were on the first Palm Sunday. Children soon
learn to understand and join in the service. I shall never forget
being, many years ago, in a church where the responses were made so
faintly that one might think the worshippers were afraid some one would
hear them. All at once, in the midst of that cold, dying murmur, arose
distinct and clear the voice of a little child saying in devoutest
accents, "Good Lord, deliver us." All through the Litany the sweet
little tones were heard, and it was curious to hear how others near him
found courage to open their mouths.
Dear friends, let us take the children to church. Let us not deprive
them of their birthright. Their place is in the Sanctuary as well as
ours, and they will soon learn to consider worship a privilege. They
will learn to love God's house when they are young, and when they are
old they will not depart from it.
_MONDAY BEFORE EASTER._
_THE FIG-TREE HAVING LEAVES._
THE Lord had, as usual, gone out of the city to spend the night. He
seems to have had no love for cities in general. He spent the dark
hours either at Bethany, or, as is very probable, He had slept with His
disciples in the open air, under the trees of the Mount of Olives. All
Orientals are rather fond of sleeping out of doors, and a night on the
grass, wrapped in their big mantles, is, to them, no hardship at all.
But returning to Jerusalem early in the morning, He was an-hungered;
and seeing a fig-tree having leaves, He came to it, if possibly He
might find fruit thereon.
The time of figs—the general harvest—had not yet come. But this
particular tree had put on its summer dress of leaves; and therefore
it was reasonable to expect that it should also bear fruit, since the
fruit of the fig-tree always precedes the leaf. Our Lord might have
expected to find some of the small green figs which there often come
to perfection in April or May. * But the tree was barren. It had not
even remaining any of the large purple fruit which hangs on till the
next season. It was barren now; it had been barren the year before. And
so the Lord pronounced its condemnation. "Let no fruit grow on thee
henceforth forever."
* NOTE.—Thomson, author of "The Land and the Book" (which ought to
be in every Sunday-school library as a book of reference), speaks of
eating the little sweet green figs as early as April.
Is there a possibility that one of us who have followed the Church
services all through this holy season may be, after all, like this
fig-tree? It is possible that we may be like the empty vine described
by the prophet—empty because it brought forth fruit only to itself?
(Hos. x. 1.) Oh, let us look to it, lest our Lord, seeking for fruit
and finding none, may pronounce against us also the awful sentence, "No
fruit grow on thee henceforth forever."
_TUESDAY BEFORE EASTER._
_THE HOUSE LEFT DESOLATE._
OUR Lord had visited the temple for the last time. He had silenced all
his enemies; He had frustrated all their deep-laid plans to entangle
Him in His own words. He had poured out on the Scribes and Pharisees
those terrible denunciations which filled up the cup of their spite
and fury to overflowing. Then looking about Him, doubtless, at the
magnificent building, and the still great and prosperous city with
its crowded inhabitants, His heart of love and pity overflowed once
more, as it had done at the time of His triumphal entry. "O Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them that are
sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together,
as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not." And
then came the saddest words of all. "Behold, your house is left unto
you, desolate."
Our Lord never entered the temple again. It stood in its majesty
for many a year, untouched by any outward enemy, throwing back the
sunbeams, a "pile of gold and snow." Yet was it as surely a ruin as
when the fire that devoured it was quenched in the blood of priests and
worshippers. For the Lord had departed and all the splendor was but an
empty show. The house was left, but it was desolate.
Probably none of those who crowded to hear the Lord's last words,
realized that they were the last. He had been going in and out among
them for three years. They had become, as it were, used to seeing
His miracles and hearing His teachings, and there seemed no special
reason why these miracles and teachings should not go on indefinitely.
Probably very few, except His bitterest enemies, had made up their
minds absolutely to reject Him. There was time enough, they thought.
But they were awfully mistaken. There was no more time. The clock had
struck, though they had not heard it. The Lord, whom they had pretended
to seek, had come to His temple, but the rulers there would have none
of Him. And so they were left to themselves, to fill up the measure of
their iniquities, and to be filled in turn with their own devices in a
manner more awful than the world has ever seen.
To every man and woman on earth there is coming a last time—a last
Lent, a last Easter, a last Sunday, a last chance. "God had appointed
a day." We know not what day, nor when it is to come, but being
appointed, it is constantly drawing nearer and nearer. And when once
the Master of the house has risen, and has shut to the door, it will
not be opened again. God grant that at that awful time, none of us who
have walked on together through this holy season, may be left outside
that door to knock in vain!
_WEDNESDAY BEFORE EASTER._
_THE LOST OPPORTUNITIES._