It seems easy to see something peculiarly holy, something deeply
religious in the occupations and acts of the priesthood or the
ministry. But thinking of these as religious and of such service as
divine we fall into the habit of thinking that they alone, in all the
world of action, are divine. We set on one side of life the religious
service limited to these formal acts and on the other side what we call
the secular life and service.
We have sacred days, sacred deeds, sacred callings, religious services;
all separate from the rest of life, belonging in a department, a
pigeon-hole, by themselves. Whatever is not of these is of the world,
worldly, secular, lacking in the peculiar aroma of sanctity that
attaches to the church or the profession of religion.
There are many who desire to do some religious work; who fain would
engage in divine service. There is in almost every breast a desire to
do something high and holy, something that is not necessary,
utilitarian, with some other motive than bread-winning. But there
seems to be no opportunity; such deeds are supposed to belong to
special callings; one must be ordained to do divine service.
The truth is, divine service is the duty and high privilege of every
human being; we all are divinely called to the ministry; the service of
God and humanity belongs to us all. We must not wait for ordaining
hands nor ecclesiastical robes nor for the environment of official
sanctity. Every impulse to do good, to show human love, and do loving
service is a commission from high heaven.
The good Master invites men and women to His kind of service, the
highest and holiest known to all the ages. He never was separated to a
clerical calling; He did not wait for an ordaining council nor did He
confine His divine service to prayer and praise or to the activities of
the church ritual. His divine service was the service of the sons of
men, the going about doing good.
Heavenly work is not work for some far off heaven; it is the work of
making this present earth like heaven. The work of God is not working
for an absent deity; it is doing the work that the God of all love
would do in this world; it is being feet and fingers, voice and lips to
the great Spirit who is over and in us all. It is making that spirit
of love real, actual, concrete to our fellows.
The holiest work in this world may be done in the humblest places; the
most divine service may not be in the cathedral but in the cottage; the
angels may pass by the intoning choir to listen to a mother's crooning
cradle song or to watch the patient service, the loving kindness shown
in washing the faces or wiping away the tears of dirty and destitute
children.
The holy service which will fill your heart with joy and give you the
unfading crown of eternity, never will be done if you are waiting for
some ecclesiastical uniform to do it in. Whatever is done in the
spirit of the infinite love, in the spirit of the great Master, that
truly is divine and glorious.
It is the good work that is glorious. It is a thing more truly divine
to do well your daily duty, to put out good, honest work, than it is to
wear a clerical garb or perform professional religious duties. The
honour, the worthiness, the glory of your work may be measured by the
spirit in which it is done and by its helpfulness and worth to the
world.
All life becomes glorious as we see that even in the least of our daily
tasks we may be doing the will of God, that it may be just as necessary
a part of the divine service that I should serve at a desk, a counter,
or a machine, should sweep a room or tend a child as that another
should preach or pray. For the great Master of all who knows all our
work, measures it all, not as we do; He sees the glory of the cup of
cold water and the divinity of the commonplace.