THE ROMANCE OF GOD: A XMAS HOMILY.

Evening Star, Issue 17543, 24 December 1920, Page 2

THE ROMANCE OF GOD: A XMAS HOMILY.

We have just been reading over again *Tho Divine Adventure,' by that beautiful mystic writer, William Sharp, or as he is better known by leod." It is a strange, fascinating production. But it is not of it we wish to write just now; it is of a kindreS subject, 'The Romance of God.' ' We all love romance, even the oldest and most prosaic of us. It is the secret ,of tho extraordinary growth of novel reading, picture shows, etc. All this is the struggle of the starved and cramped life to realise itself, to escape for a little out of the humdrum —the dull, the factual—into the world of imagination,-of adventure, of idealism, of the Spirit: It is wholly in vain to seek U repress it. Adam Smith said long ago that what the world needed was the right direction of vanity. No; that is. only part of the truth. What the world needs is the right . direction of the Romantic Spirit. Rightly understood, that is the design and duty of. Christmas. Let us try to understand that ********

Christmas opens for us the first volume of. the sublimest romance in history. Let us, assume that the Gospel story of the Advent and the apostolic interpretation of it are true. It may or may not be so. That wo do not discuss. We will just suppose that the New Testament theory of the coming of Christ and its significance represents actual fact. Where will it lead us? It will lea*d us sorely into the presence of the most sfcupendSus romantic adventure the world has ever seen or ever imagined. What is a romance? Xou can read it at large in Scott's essays, or Stevenson's, or Theodore Watts Dnnton's, and in those of other writers. For our purpose we will take the- dictionary's definition. The general idea is that it is a story of surprising adventures befalling a hero or heroine—" a tale of wild adventure in love or chivalry." Now, assuming the truth of the New Testament, our proposition is that Christmas is the central chapter in the most romantic adventure known to . history. Where does this romance begin? It begins where all romanced and everything else begins. It begins in an idea. It begins in an idea in the mind o£ God—in the mind of the Creator and Sustainer of all life and worlds. He is the Hero of. romance. What was the idea? It was the creation of a race of beings in his own likeness; therefore a race of beings that would be free to differ from their Creator, and even dispute supremacy with Him. That is the first condition of all real romance. The excitement, the fascination of it depend on not knowing exactly what may be the issue. In mathematics or mechanics there is but one conclusion possible. Yon know that it can only work out in a certain way. But a story or drama may end in a dozen ways, because the personages in it are free to do what they choose—to love or hate, curse or kill—as the wish or will dictates ; hence the philosophy that denies human freedom, that turns man into a being of necessity, is destructive of all romsmces, of all poetry, of all imagination, of all that makes life and liter? ture beautiful, strong, heroic. But this by the way. So on the New Testament assumption God calls into existence a race of beings with a will like His own, free to do what they choose in His universe. That was a stupendous adventure. For if man was dowered with a will like God's, he might- differ from Him; he*might

_ Divide the universe with God, ' Keeping his will unbent,'and holdaworld Where Tie is hbt'^suprema." Th§re you have:= the elements of an unspeakable triumph or tragedy. It was the latter that happened, and so .'opened and ended the first volume of this sublime romance. •

The second begins -with the advent of the hero upon the stage of Time. What do we find as we open "it? We find the world all topsy-turvy. We find the ra"ce of beings made in the Divine imago struggling like rats in a cage—rebels m the Divine Kingdom. And red grow the battle spears, And weary with desolation Roll onward the laden years. What is to be done? Destroy them? That would be a policy of despair, if not an impossible policy. It is a policy that would occur to anybody. It is commonplace and prosaic- We recall here the weird, wild story of Frankenstein. A great scientist hits on the secret of life. He aspires to create a man,. He succeeds. He is at first fascinated by his success, and ultimately terrified by the look of the creature. He tries to escape from him, but cannot. The creature feels his solitariness, and demands that Frankenstein should provide him with a companion. He consents. While engaged in the task the creator© appears, and his creator is so

scared that he smashes the* work and flees away. The fierce, wild creator© hursts hounds, kills the infant brother of his creator, and commits other dreadful crimes. Frankenstein, in an agony of revenge, resolves to kill the thing to which he had given life. He pursues him up and down the earth and away into .the polar seas. He overtakes him there ; but before he can reach him the ice breaks,-'they float apart, and Frankenstein is afterwards rescued by a vessel. But the chase has been too much for him, and he .dies. The wild thing visits the ship, mourns over the dead body of his creator, and goes off again into the polar -wilds to commit suicide. It is a gruesome, terrifying Tomanee or tragedy. i But it touches in so many points the great supreme tragedy of .the possibilities in the 'creation of man. Well, the destruction of the race, even if it were possible, would be a policy of despair. What then? Seek to redeem it, to restore the broken communion, to win it back to its true allegiance. That is right. But how? Here begins the wonder of the romance, its pathos and its passioril The- Creator and Sustainer of the universe Himself enters it. All Christendom is singing this week:

Though true God of true God, Light of Light Eternal, Our lowly nature He hath not abhorred. H,e was born of a woman, wrapped about Him a vesture of flesh, and blood, wrought in a carpenter's shop for thirty years, then came forth to Teveal the Everlasting Father to men, to tell them in word and by deed, that He was / their friend and lover, that Ho grieved in their, sorrows, bore their sins, and besought them to ba reconciled to Him. How was the message and Messenger received? Multitudes' called it incredible. They turned against the bearer of it; said He was a scoundrel or'a fooL They persecuted Him; they spurned and spat upon Him, and finally hung Him up on a cross between two robbers. They did •this—to whom? Fronde tells of a service in "St. Mary's, Oxford, when Newman was once preaching there. After describing in impressive language our Lord's passion, ho paused, and then, in a low, clear voice, the preacher said : " Now t I bid yon recollect that He to whom these things were done was Almighty God-2| It was, says Froude, as if an electric shock had gone through the . audience. Is not this a romance? What is a romance? It-is a tale of extraordinary and extravagant adventure of love or chivalry, Was there ever so extraordinary or extravagant an adventure as this? -Do we stagger at it? Does it seem iincredible, impossible? It well might. And yet why should it? Wben General Stonewall Jackson was wounded, tlje stretcher-bearers were carrying him off the field. One of them was shot, and felL The general rolled down. Bullets were flying thick. One of the stretcher-bearers was a trusty servant of the famous general. He put himself down in front of him,' saying: "If the flying shot must hit someone, let it be mo"; and he lay thus, sheltering him, till relief came. "Why did you. do it?" he was asked. "Because I loved him." It is a fine story. It thrills its with admiration. It wins the V.C. We sing songs of those who thus venture theix lives for others, and give them

Names to fire men's ears -with music Till the round world's race is run.

Have we a God that does anything Eke that? Have we a God that comes into this wild, weird fight of life and takes his place with the wounded and dying, and a'-ands as a shield about them, and gathers into His own breast the spear-points of this death? If we have not, then no other is any use to us. If we have not, then our homage must go out to our brave human saviours. But if the Bible be true there is such a God. That is the gospel with which Christmas starts. " Why did you do thai?" ""Because I loved him," said Jackson's servant. But Jackson was lovable. He wa? a great and noble man. He had been a good friend to his servant. Right here we touch the inner nerve of this great romance of Christmas. We all can understand love giving itself for the lovely and the lovable, for the beautiful and the brave. But what are we to say to love that gives itself to the death for those who are not that; for those that spit upon it and sneer at it, and turn from it, and trample it in the dust? What is the testimony often enough we have heard recently: " Greater love hath no man than this—that a man lay down his- life for'his friends " J.. But that's not the end, " God commendeth His love towards us, in that while we were enemies Christ died for us." That is tie romance whose opening tfcapter unrolls itself before us this Christmas week. It is surely an amazing adventure, of love and chivalry. We are offering no opinion on its truth. We are merely affirming that it is the message pf Christianity to the world. It is a message so romantic that the New Testament writers

cannot find -words to express their amam> mcnfc. The commonplaces of wonder to stammer on their pens with, the sudden shame of their own ineptitude. It, is not that it is contrary to reason; but'rather, when it is really understood with both heart and head, the verdict is that it if right—that it is' what wo might, expect from such a God as Christ reveals.

Bat we are not at the end yet. Every romance, closes with the triumph of the hero and those who stand in with him. The curtain is rung down to the plaudits o£ victory and the merry peaj of wedding bells. Well, we see the Hero of this romance and His followers crowding in at last over the sea of glass to " the marriage supper of the Lamb." "What this mystic imagery means we do not fully Know. It belongs to the last volume of the romance, and it is not yet written out fully for our reading here. But we know enough to believe that it must be something beyond words—something that eye hath not seen nor ear heard, neither hath entered, into the heart of man to conceive. Why? Because of the amazing cost that it in-* volved to prepare it. The law of proportion demands that. You do not carve a 50ft block of marble for a monumental pedestal only to put a Sen putty man on the top of it. That would be ridiculous. So it would be equally ridiculous to suppose that the final close' of this supreme romance should be commonplace and trivial And it is not. As we have said, those who hare seen the vision of it are bankrupt of words and images to describe it. It might be well perhaps, if preachers were less afraid of the ,romantic eide of their faith. They deal too much in little' fiddling moralities that fail to arouse the enthusiasm of their audiences. Buskin tells us that if you cut out a square inch of Turner's skies yon would find the infinite in it. It would take a good many square inches 6i some sermons to make an appeal to the love of daring and romance that sleeps ■in every breast. Bishop Gore declared, not long ago, that tHe " peril of Protestant preachers is that theyeeek refuge from the sublimities of thought in opportunities of action." But you need the loftiest motive for the lowest duty if it is to be worthily done. You are not going to find a dynamic for eyen commonplace work by watering down the romance of religion"A akirmed theology will not produce a more intense philanthropy." And that leads us to our last point.

This Divine romance, •which, Christmas suggests, •when it is gripped is gripping. The vision of it makes those "who gain it romantic themselves. Is nob that so? Call the muster roll of them, and see-: Paul, the martyrs, St. Francis of Assisi, Xavier, Luther, Knox, Gordon, Lincoln, Livingstone, 'Booth, and the mighty multitude of the faithful who are not famous.

And ofttaaes cometh our wise Lord God, Master of every trade, And tells them tales of His daily toll, Of Edens newly made ; And they rise to their feetos He passes by, Gentlemen unafraid. Gentlemen (and ladies, too} unafraid 1 Yes, that's it And not only Tinafraid, but original, far-seeing and in-seeing, venturesome, romantic—the Knight Errants of Time and Eternity. And it as such, knight errants that are wanted to-day. A little •while ago the world rang with plaudits of those who went forth to slay the dragon of Pmssianism. Now it needs to have the daring and t&e chivalry and the sacrifice that inspired them tamed into the sluice-ways that make for peace and righteousness. And how are we to get this? yßightly comprehended, it lies hidden in the message of Christmas, in the Romance of God. Let. Browning put it for us:

So, the All-Great were tie AD-Lovine toe— - ' - °' So through the thunder comes a human

voice, Saying "0 heart I made, a heart beats here: Face my hands fashioned, see it in Myself. Thou hast no power, nor may'st conceive of Mine. Bat lo I v V ° 1 SaTO * h wifll M 7*di to And thou most love Me who hath died for thee."

The Romance of God! That is tie message which Christmas presses home upon us all If it be true, who dares fear? it it bo fake, who dares hope?