Why Shouldn't We All Become Spendthrifts?

Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 169, 19 July 1941, Page 6

Why Shouldn't We All Become Spendthrifts?

By Rev. C. W. Chandler

I CNV us h ave enough J ' money to emulate the "West j End"' swell whom one met on Ficcaidilly thirty years ago, and who had j nothing else to do but spend his i father's money, and run up hills with j Bond Street, tailors for dad to pay, and who was grossly insulted when j tradesmen sent in their "accounts I rendered.''

It must have cost his father very clearly keeping up the family name in the face of his son's profligacy. All the same, I don't think the prodigal's father in the parable was trying to save his own good name when he fell on his son's neck and kissed him. There's nothing selfish about the love of God. Nevertheless, although circumstances more than disinclination prevent many of us from painting towns red, a balance-sheet, faithfully drawn up of the way we spend our incomes would be very self-reveal-ing. It would provide us with a very fair index to our minds and characters, and, what is more, to the strength or weakness of our beliefs, let alone our convictions. Considering, however, the difficulty most of us experience in trying to make ends meet. I do not think we have much to fear from the Great Auditor, even if He does see the account of our receipts and expenditure for any given year. Balace-sheet of Time When it comes to the spending of time there is another tale to teli. I came across the following most interesting calculation the other day. It concerns a keen bridge player who took the trouble, for 12 years, to keep a strict account of how he spent his time. Here it is:— Sleep 4 years Work 27 s years Cards 2V 2 years Meals l?a years Odds and ends 1 year Holidays Vz year Approximate total .. 12 years Included in odds and ends was the time spent at church, and at outdoor recreations such as golf and motor- , ing. together with occasional visits \ to the theatre. "If the misuse of time were a : hanging matter, few of us would ; escape the gallows." I doubt not < that many of us have been just as < wasteful of our time, although per- i haps in different ways, and I must < confess that when I hear a man say, ; "I haven't time," I really wonder < whether he is telling the truth. 1 If the average man cannot make 1 a better showing, is it any wonder '< ( that the "times are out of joint"? Most of us are living utterly pur- 1 poseless lives. As though earning a : livelihood and spending it on com- 1 forts were really living. When an 1 extraordinary need arises we will 1 give a few hours to Red Cross or the ! Home Guard, only to lapse again into : the selfish groove when the occasion 1 for such added effort has passed. ! We Don't Get Anywhere < Individually, we don't get any- ( where. As we "progress" cigars, 1 pile carpets, motor cars and cares < take the place of cigarettes, lino- 1 leum, tram cars and a certain capa- 1 city for leaving all work-a-day wor- 5 ries on other people's shoulders. * Most of the things which make for 1 longevity can be enjoyed by a tramp, 1 so I don't see that there is much to c be gained from hurrying to the ' grave in a "bell topper," instead of 1 in a cheap felt hat. I The man who lives purposelessly, * be he rich or poor, is only a fool. It's but the froth of life that he's tasting. A puff of wind or a cold t snap can sever such people from all r that constitutes life to them, just as easily as the first frost shrivelled all t my pumpkin plants about a month 4 ago. e It isn't until a man starts to spend c himself in the service of others that s he gets any real joy out of living. £ Be as shrewd as you like with the r investment of your money, your life s will not be gilt-edged unless you've s made up your mind about God. t

From a spiritual standpoint, we are right in the middle of a terrible slump just now. I am surrounded by well-dressed neighbours who are as poor as Lazarus in the things that count for eternal happiness. Spiritually, the seat may be out of my trousers, but, take it from me, I get a great kick out of living.

We parson chaps don't deserve half the satisfaction that life affords us. I often wonder why God picked on me to squander His love abroad among men. I often feel like that irresponsible fellow on Piccadilly, squandering his patrimony, the oniv difference being that my Father will never go broke, and nothing I do will tarnish His Name.

The more I spend of the love He showers on me, the more He gives me to spend. Aim to be one of God's spendthrifts, too, if you want to live abundantly. In the terms of love, God's got tons of "splosh," and love is all that will save us.

£10,000,000 is a tidy sum to spend every day we are at war. It's got to be done, I suppose, but may the day soon come when we learn to draw more heavily upon the Divine exchequer.

Finally (even if I do mix my metaphors), God's pearls are not for swine. We've got to take our snouts out of the trough, and begin to honour Him before we can expect Him to lavish His gifts upon us. Although He chasteneth whom He loveth. He will never abandon or disinherit His sons, but we've got to lay bare our hearts before Him before He'll lay bare His arm for us.