"Yes," says some one, "it is a beautiful creed--if only one could
believe it." Christ took the birds and the flowers for His text, and
preached of the love of God for man, but is that the only sermon the
birds and flowers preach to us? Does not "nature, red in tooth and claw
with ravine," shriek against our creed? And when we turn to human life
the tragedy deepens. Why, if Love be law, is the world so full of pain?
Why do the innocent suffer? Why are our hearts made to sicken every day
when we take up our morning paper? Why does not God end the haunting
horror of our social ills? They are old-world questions which no man can
answer. Yet will I not give up my faith, and I will tell you why. "I
cannot see," Huxley once wrote to Charles Kingsley, "one shadow or
tittle of evidence that the great unknown underlying the phenomena of
the universe, stands to us in the relation of a Father--loves us, and
cares for us as Christianity asserts." And, perhaps, if I looked for
evidence only where Huxley looked, I should say the same; but I have
seen Jesus, and that has made all the difference. It is He, and He
alone, who has made me sure of God. He felt, as I have never felt, the
horrid jangle and discord of this world's life; sin and suffering tore
His soul as no soul of man was ever torn; He both saw suffering
innocence and Himself suffered being innocent, and yet to the end He
knew that love was through all and over all, and died with the name
"Father" upon His lips. And, therefore, though the griefs and graves of
men must often make me dumb, I will still dare to believe with Jesus
that God is good and "Love creation's final law."
But while thus, on the one hand, we use Christ's doctrine of God to our
comfort, let us take care lest, on the other hand, we abuse it to our
hurt and undoing. There has scarcely ever been a time when the Church
has not suffered through "disproportioned thoughts" of God. To-day our
peril is lest, in emphasizing the Divine Fatherhood, we ignore the
Divine Sovereignty, and make of God a weak, indulgent Eli, without
either purpose or power to chastise His wilful and disobedient children.
"God is good; God is love; why then should we fear? Will He not deal
tenderly with us and with all men, forgiving us even unto seventy times
seven?" The argument is true--and it is false. As an assurance to the
penitent and to the broken in heart, it is true, blessedly true; in any
other sense it is false as hell. He whom Christ called, and taught us to
call "Father," He also called "Holy Father" and "Righteous Father." Have
we forgotten Peter's warning--we do not need to ask at whose lips he
learned it--"If ye call on Him as Father ... pass the time of your
sojourning in fear." This is no contradiction of the doctrine of
Fatherhood; strictly speaking, it is not even a modification of it;
rather is it an essential part of any true and complete statement of it.
Peter does not mean God is a Father, and He is also to be feared; that
is to miss the whole point of his words; what he means is, God is a
Father, and, therefore, He is to be feared; the fear follows necessarily
on the true idea of Fatherhood. Ah, brethren, if we understood Peter and
Peter's Lord aright, we should be not the less, but the more anxious
about our sins, because we have learnt to call God "Father." "Evil," it
has been well said, "is a more terrible thing to the family than to the
state."[12] Acts which the law takes no cognizance of a father dare not,
and cannot, pass by; what the magistrate may dismiss with light censure
he must search out to its depths. The judgment of a father--there is no
judgment like that. And if it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands
of the living God, for him who all his life through has set himself
against the Divine law and love, it is a still more fearful thing
because those hands are the hands of a Father.
But this is not the note on which to close a sermon on the Fatherhood of
God. Let us go back to a chapter from which, though I have only once
quoted its words, we have never been far away--the fifteenth of St.
Luke, with its three-fold revelation of the seeking love of God. The
parables of the chapter are companion pictures, and should be studied
together in the light of the circumstances which were their common
origin. "The Pharisees and the scribes murmured, saying, This man
receiveth sinners and eateth with them." These parables are Christ's
answer. Mark how He justifies Himself. He might have pleaded the need of
those whom the Pharisees and scribes had left alone in their
wretchedness and sin, but of this He says nothing; His thoughts are all
of the need of God. The central thought in each parable is not what man
loses by his sin, but what God loses. As the shepherd misses his lost
sheep, and the woman her lost coin, and the father his lost son, so,
Christ says, we are all missed by God until, with our heart's love, we
satisfy the hunger of His. The genius of a prose poet shall tell us the
rest. We have all read of Lachlan Campbell and his daughter Flora, how
she went into the far country, and what brought her home again. "It iss
weary to be in London"--this was Flora's story as she told it to Marget
Howe when she was back again in the glen--"it iss weary to be in London
and no one to speak a kind word to you, and I will be looking at the
crowd that is always passing, and I will not see one kent face, and when
I looked in at the lighted windows the people were all sitting round the
table, but there was no place for me. Millions and millions of people,
and not one to say 'Flora,' and not one sore heart if I died that
night." Then one night she crept into a church as the people were
singing. "The sermon wass on the Prodigal Son, but there is only one
word I remember. 'You are not forgotten or cast off,' the preacher said:
'you are missed.' Sometimes he will say, 'If you had a plant, and you
had taken great care of it, and it was stolen, would you not miss it?'
And I will be thinking of my geraniums, and saying 'Yes' in my heart.
And then he will go on, 'If a shepherd wass counting his sheep, and
there wass one short, does he not go out to the hill to seek for it?'
and I will see my father coming back with that lamb that lost its
mother. My heart wass melting within me, but he will still be pleading,
'If a father had a child, and she left her home and lost herself in the
wicked city, she will still be remembered in the old house, and her
chair will be there,' and I will be seeing my father all alone with the
Bible before him, and the dogs will lay their heads on his knee, but
there iss no Flora. So I slipped out into the darkness and cried,
'Father,' but I could not go back, and I knew not what to do. But this
wass ever in my ear, 'missed,'"--and this was the word that brought her
back to home and God.[13]
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