SUNDAY COLUMN

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 59, Issue 16, 29 October 1938, Page 3

SUNDAY COLUMN

NEWS OF THE CHURCHES. (Conducted by the Ashburton Ministers’ Association). MY DIRTY, MUDDY BOOTS. (By the Rev. J. R. S. 'Wilson, R.D.). I heard of a young fellow during this wair whom a. Padre came across in Egypt in a godless regiment. He was a bright Christian. The Padre asked, “How do you come to be in tins crowd?” lie replied, “Padre, 1 will tell you. It was all because oi a man whoVas in our regiment when 1 joined up. Ho was a bright Christian fellow. Every night before he lay down to sleep lie knelt beside liis bed. Wie in the room could not stand, it and used to pitch everything we could get hold of at him and wo showered all sorts of insults at him. One night 1 came in drunk. Iti was a dirty, wet might. There was that fellow at his bedside in prayer. It was more tnan I could stand. I sat down and began to take off a muddy boot. I cursea him, I took and. shied my hoot at lnm as hard as I could drive. He did, not look round ancl never said a word. I took off the other hoot, took better aim and got him on the side of the face. Again he never looked round and never said a word. I rolled over into bed amd, fell fast asleep. In the morning, iWilien I awakened, “Rieveille” had gone and I. knew there would he mare “O.B.” for me, —more trouble. I thought of my dirty muddy boots and uniform, and knew that that would make it worse for me than ever. But then I looked and there by my bedside were my boots, cleaned and shining, and, my uniform brushed and polished,—all ready for me. It was that fellow who had done it. I had to go to him and ask him where lie got that from. He tolcl me, and 1 found Christ.”

Is that not just what is meant by “Receive ye the Holy Ghost?” Receive the Spirit into your wholly surrendered life and let Him so deal with you that in eve/ry experience of life, and in every situation of life, too, you may manifest to unbelievers the Spirit of the Lord Jesns. That is what will win them and, bring them to Christ. Do we know what it is to have victory through the indwelling Soirit of Jesus? Do we know what it means to “Receive Him?” THE PRIMACY OF PRAYER. A perusal of the biographies of men of past' days who have been greatly used of God reveals the fact that their power lay in their prayer-life rather than in their native gifts. We know and admit that prayer is our greatest need, brings thie greatest blessings am a achieves the greatest results, and yet we passively allow the Adversary to keep us from prayer, to distract our thoughts, to cool down our ardour. Let us look into the prayer-life of some of God’s saints, and gain some inspiration from them. i Joseph Alleina rose at 4 a.in. for his business of praying till 8 a.m. It he heard other tradesmen plying their business before lie rose, lie would exclaim, “O bow this shames me! Dotli not my Master Reserve more than theirs?” Martin Luther claimed: “If I fail to spend two hours in prayer each morning, the devil gets the victory through the day. I have so much business, I cannot" get on without spending three hours daily in prayer.” Of Hudson Taylor it was said that the sun never rose on China, but what it found him praying. William Bramwell, who went through his circuits like a flame of lire, said, “I. find, it necessary to begin at five in the morning, and to pray at all opportunities till ten or eleven at night.” ■Susannah Wesley, despite tine cares and work of bringing up nineteen children, shut herself in alone with God for one hour each day. John Welch thought the day illspent, if he did not spend eight or ten hours in prayer. He kept a plaid to wrap himself when he arose to pray at night. iHis wife would complain when she found him. on the floor, weeping. He would imply, “Woman, I havfe 3000 souls to answer for, and J. know not how it is with many of them.”

R. Murray McOheyne often rose a great while before day, and, loved nothing so much as to get to a solitary place to pray. “I ought to spend the best hours of the day in communion with God. It is my noblest and most fruitful employment and is not to be thrust into any corner.” SONGLESS BIRDS. "Restore unto me tho joy of Thy Salvation.”—Psalm li, 12.

There is a most arresting difference between a. singing bird and a. bi,rd which lias no song. Even fine feathers offer no adequate compensation for the absence of song. I have sat in a wood which was thronged with semi-tropical birds in gayest attire, and it seemed like Westminster Abbey at othel* times than the hours of worship, 'when it is crowded, with moving visitors, but the organ and choir are silent and there is no sound of praise. A wood with .a singing thrush in it, otr a robin, or a nightingale, is transformed. The gloomy twilight becomes a dim, religious light, and the wood becomes a temple. A bird with very plain feathers is a very fascinating creature if it is endowed with exquisite song. Yes, song is very captivating. I have known a country road thronged with people alter darkness had fallen, and, they had gathered to hear a nightingale sing. And all this leads mo up to a very challenging word about (religion. Does not the religious life become fascinating only when it ‘lias found a song? Does not piety become arresting only as it breaks into praise? IDbes not spiritual devotion become alluring only when duty is changed into love and harsh obedience ripens into joy? If religion has no joy it has no vital contagion. If it has no joy it has no glow in its own heart, and it lacks the power to kindle fine in others. A joyless religion is like a dripping wood,, .with a drenched bird or two on its branches, hut with no quickening song at the heart of it.

And such was the plight of this psalmist. He had lost his song. He .had lost the joy of the divine communion. The lire of devotion had somehow smouldered, and everything was dull and gloomy. When he sought the Lord there was nothing of the lover’s thrill in his going, hut rather the mood, of a slave turning again to his monotonous task. He went moodily. There was no eager sprightliness in his stops, because there was no joy ill hishearl. Ilis prayers were devoid

of praise. His petitions did not rise ! like a lark to the accompaniment of j “melody divine.” Somehow he had j lost his song, and all liis ways were, heavy.

It had not been always so. In otlier clays his joy in God had set bis steps to music. “J will sing of mercy and of judgment!” “I will sing aloud of Thy righteousness!” “I will sing praises unto the Lord!” “O come, let us sing unto tliie Lord a new song!” He had known what it was to crowd God’s gates wtih thankful praise. He would, begin the clay with singing. “My voice* shalt Thou hear in the morning, 0 Lord.” And snatches of song mingled with all the labour and interests of the clay. Aye, even God s statutes had become his songs in the house of his pilgrimage. How had he lost his song? Who knows how songs are dost ? Perhaps by sheer thoughtlessness. Tier haps by neglect. More likely by sin. Joy and sin can never be in concord. When we are in ways of sin we may manufacture something which looks like joy, but it is not th|e real thing; it is only galvanised, it is not vital. It is not the joy of the Lord. We cannot keep the bird-note when our purity is lost. Joy flees away in fear when a loathsome thing comes into the soul. Ancl so this man turns to the Lord for the purity li/e had lost, that in recovered purity he might find the lost joy. “Create" in me a clean heart, 0 God, and renew a right spirit within me.” That is the first step to the restoration of joy. First tho lost health, and then tlie lost song. The chords will vibrate again when they have been cleansed and refined by God’s holy grace. And where else can we turn for cleansing but to the Fountain of holiniess? And we do not turn in vain. The way to the Fountain is cheery with words of pji’omse. “They shall return, and com© with singing!” “They shall rejoice even with joy and singing; and sorrow ancl sighing shall flee away.” When the Lord lias taken from our souls everything that defileth we are a new creation —“Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, ancl the time of the singing of birds is come!” —Rev. J. H. Jowett, D.D.