THE CHRISTMAS MESSAGE.
CHRISTMAS DAY had come once more, bringing not only its message of
"Peace on earth" from God, but of goodwill from men to men; for into
many a poor home had gone gifts to gladden, and Christmas cheer to
chase away, for the time at least, some of the clouds of poverty and
care that hung so heavily there.
To the Mellors it had been an unusually good time; a substantial dinner
of beef and plum pudding from the Mission Hall, a present of groceries
from Phil's employer, two hundredweight of coals from Mr. Armstrong,
and new jackets for Phil and Rob, made by Mrs. Forbes' clever, kindly
fingers, out of one of her husband's big police overcoats, all combined
to make the day a very happy one; and though there was genuine regret
that the father was upon a suffering bed, yet both to wife and children
Stephen Mellor's absence was undoubtedly a source of peace.
The week that had elapsed since his accident had been a week of unusual
quietness and comfort in the home. To Rob, the chief joy of Christmas
Day lay in a surprise that he had for Mr. Jasper; for not only had
the Mission Hall folk sent an ample supply of dinner to the Mellors,
but, in response to Rob's earnest pleadings, a good basinful of beef,
potatoes and pudding had been given him for his old friend; and no
sooner had Rob swallowed the last mouthful of his own dinner, than
Jasper's portion, which had been carefully put close to the fire to
keep warm must be taken round.
As fast as his little legs could carry him Rob speeded down Preece's
Place with his precious burden. The shed was soon reached, and in
response to Rob's knock Jasper appeared at the door.
"Halloa, Rob, I thought Christmas Day was a sort of stay-at-home day to
family folk like you. What's brought you here?"
But Rob was too excited to say much, until, having put the basin on the
table, and taken off the newspaper wherewith he had covered and hidden
the dinner, he turned round and gasped out, "There!"
Jasper was fairly surprised. "Why, where has this sprung from?" he
said. "Have you and Phil been stinting yourselves to give your old
friend a taste of Christmas fare?"
"No, Mr. Jasper; our Mr. Armstrong sent it to you, every bit; only I
didn't want you to know about it until 'twas all here." And the child
stood beaming with delight at his friend's pleasant surprise.
"Ah, but I guess if Mr. Armstrong sent it, it was Rob Mellor asked for
it, eh?" And tears came into the old man's eyes at this fresh proof of
the child's genuine love.
"Why, yes, of course, he knows all about you, Mr. Jasper, and what a
great friend you are of mine; and you know he'll be very glad to see
you when you come to the Hall."
Jasper laughed. "One of these fine days, Rob, perhaps! Wait till the
spring comes, and we shall see. But anyhow you must give him my very
best thanks for this beautiful dinner;" and sitting down, he began to
taste the goodly fare that Rob had brought, while the child crouched
down at his feet, close to the stove.
"I like Christmas, Mr. Jasper, don't you?"
"Well, Rob, I like Christmas dinner, but I don't see much in the day,
except that sometimes it sets a man wishing he had somebody belonging
to him."
"But it's Jesus Christ's birthday."
"So I've heard say, Rob; but what of that?"
"Why, Mr. Jasper, don't you see, if He hadn't had a birthday down here,
He wouldn't have ever lived down here, and then died for us that we
might go to heaven. Teacher says that for a long, long time God had
promised that He would send a Saviour to die for us, to save us from
being punished for our sins; and then one night, in the very middle of
the night, the angels brought the message that the Saviour had come;
and I should think everybody was glad. Then the shepherds that the
angels spoke to went off directly to see the little baby that was to
grow to be a man, and then to die; and when they looked at Him, they
knew that God had kept His promise, and they were so glad, because He
was going to be punished instead of them; and that's why He's called a
Saviour. I can find it in the Bible, if you like, because I have read
it my own self; it's in the second chapter of Luke;" and Rob jumped up
and reached down the old book.
"It's rather hard words," he said. "I don't know that I can read it
all."
"Never mind, Rob; you leave it open there. Maybe I'll have a look at it
myself by-and-by."
And when the child had gone, and he was left alone, he did "have a look
at it," not only by the light of the lamp that burned at his side, but
by the light of God's Holy Spirit shining in his heart.
That light had indeed of late been making manifest the evil, and
showing him that he was a sinner; but God never does His work by
halves, and now the same light should reveal to him God's provision for
sin—a Saviour.
Carefully did he read the Gospel narrative of the birth of Christ;
the joyous message that had come from heaven to earth on that first
Christmas morn. "Unto you is born this day a Saviour."
"Unto you;" but did that mean a favoured few? Nay; what said the next
verse? "I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
people." "All!" then that must include him—Jonas Jasper! "A Saviour
which is Christ the Lord." "The Lord," why, that was God Himself; the
Lord who said all the terrible things about sin was the Lord who came
to be the Saviour! For the first time in his life Jonas began to see
the two sides of God's heart, His hatred of sin, and His love for the
sinner. He hated sin so much that He must punish it; but He loved the
sinner so much that He bore the punishment for him.
For a long time the old man sat with his eyes fixed on the words, as
if trying to take in their full meaning. "It's just what I want, and
no mistake," he said to himself. "'A Saviour.' I shouldn't be afraid
to die then, if my sins had all been punished. 'My sins'—and I used to
think I wasn't a sinner, but a respectable fellow who could hold his
own before God and man. Anyhow, it's a good thing I've found it out.
I mind Phil said one day 'twould be a dreadful thing to find it out
afterwards."
"'Tis bad enough now, but I begin to see a little hope, if God has
sent a Saviour! I never used to think these things concerned me, but
it seems to me now the Bible must have been written on purpose for me;
anyhow it just fits me. How I wish I had started reading it before!
Halloa, what's that?" and Jasper listened, as a sound of singing broke
upon his ear, sweet, clear, childish voices outside somewhere.
[Illustration]
"That's Phil and Rob, I'll be bound, come carol-singing to their old
friend. What voices they've got, to be sure! No wonder they pick up
something when they start that! What is it they're singing?" And before
opening his door Jasper stopped to listen. They were close outside, so
the words came clearly.
"Jesus, my Saviour, to Bethlehem came,
Born in a manger, to sorrow and shame;
Oh, it was wonderful, blest be His name,
Seeking for me, for me."
"Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
Dying for me, for me."
"Jesus, my Saviour, the same as of old,
While I was wandering away from the fold;
Gently and long did He plead with my soul,
Calling for me, for me."
"Jesus, my Saviour, shall come from on high,
Sweet is the promise as weary years fly;
Oh, I shall see Him descending the sky.
Coming for me, for me."
The voices ceased, and for a moment Jasper stood, before opening the
door, as the refrain echoed in his ear, "Seeking for Me, dying for me,
calling for me." He would like to have been alone just then, to think
it all over; but the lads were knocking for admittance, and he couldn't
keep them outside, so the bolt was drawn, and in came the singers, cold
indeed (for it was real Christmas weather), but full of spirits and
cheeriness.
"How did you like our hymn, Mr. Jasper?" And Phil seated himself as
close as possible to the stove.
"Very much, Phil; but there's one fault to find with it."
"What's that?"
"Why, 'twas too short by half; you should get hold of something longer.
Why, I'd no sooner begun to listen than you stopped."
"We'll sing it again if you like."
"So do, then; but wait a bit till I'm settled in my chair all
comfortable. Rob, there's just room for you to curl in there. Now we're
all straight."
In a minute the boys sang their Christmas hymn once more, and again the
words fell on Jasper's ear:—
"Jesus, my Saviour, on Calvary's tree
Paid the great debt, and my soul He set free;
Oh, it was wonderful, how could it be
Dying for me, for me."
After they had finished there was perfect silence for some minutes.
Phil saw that Jasper was lost in thought, and motioned to Rob to keep
quiet; but presently the old man in very low tones broke the stillness.
"Yes, it was wonderful, wonderful!"
"Did you speak, Mr. Jasper?" and Rob's hand found its way into his
friend's.
"I think I was talking to myself, Rob, and that isn't fair, is it, when
you come to talk to me? I like your hymn very much; where did you get
it?"
"Oh, it's in our Sunday School book, and we learnt it up at John
Street; we sang it at lots of places last night about the streets,
after I left work."
"And picked up lots of pennies, I daresay?"
Phil laughed.
"Well, we did pretty fairly, I think; we've paid our lodgings right on
for next week, so that's nice, and we have a little to go on with."
"And what do you expect me to give you for your singing?"
Phil looked up in astonishment.
"Why, nothing, Mr. Jasper. You don't suppose we sang for that, do you?"
"No, I don't, Phil. I believe God sent you to sing to me to-night;" and
there was a strange earnestness in Jonas's voice as he said the words.
"Anyhow, I'd like to hear you once more."
"Not the same one again, Mr. Jasper; we've got such lots we know."
"I don't think you'll beat the one you sang just now, Rob; but you
shall please yourselves."
So after a moment's discussion they sang the same words once more.
"And now we'll finish up with a fresh one." But Jasper hardly heeded
them as they commenced to sing again. The words already sung seemed to
have taken such a hold of him, as he sat there pondering over them.
Presently the boys suddenly ceased their singing, and Rob said,—
"I've forgotten the next line, Phil; what is it?"
And Phil replied,—
"Remember, I'm the sinner
Whom Jesus came to save."
Jasper started; for like a voice from heaven the words fell on his ear.
The boys finished the hymn, and then, seeing that their old friend was
not inclined to talk, they quietly wished him "good-night," and crept
away into the cold dark night, leaving Jasper alone.
They were a little bit puzzled over him; he was so quiet, and not like
himself, as Rob said. But could they have seen him after he had closed
the door upon them (and bolted it, to prevent intruders), they would
have been still more astonished; for there he was upon his knees, his
eyes filled with tears, and his hands clasped in prayer.
"O God," he whispered, "I think I can understand it now. Thou didst
send Thy Son to be a Saviour, and I'm the sinner that Jesus came to
save. Oh, I am a sinner, and a big sinner too; but I can't be too
bad for Jesus. Save me now, Lord; wash me in the blood of Jesus now,
to-day!"
He paused, and then added softly,—
"Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, dying for me. Seeking
for me. I do thank Thee, Lord Jesus! I do thank Thee, Lord; it's all
right now!" And rising from his knees, the old man sat once more in his
chair, lost in happy thought.
Christmas. Yes, the best he had ever known; for to him, as to the
shepherds of old, had come a message from heaven—sung, not by angels,
perhaps, but by children, sent of God, as truly as was that angelic
band in Bethlehem's fields. And the result had been the same; for
Jasper, like the shepherds, went and found the Christ, and knew that
God's Christmas gift to him had been "a Saviour."