THE QUIET HOUR

Hawera Star, Volume LII, 28 January 1933, Page 13

THE QUIET HOUR

(Contributed for the Hawera Minis-

ters’ Association.)

(By “Alpha.”)

THE FOUNTAIN OF JOY

l'n one of the churches of this town there was recently preached a number of sermons on Joy, and the writer thinks that there is a great need of real Christian joy to-day, so he has no hesitation in giving the following essay by Mrs. K. Herman to the readers of this column, in lieu of his own thoughts : Even a.hasty glance back across the vistas of ‘the past will suffice to show 1 us that mankind has always something of the art of rejoicing in the midst or sorrow. Soldiers have always been found to march to hopeless battles with an unquenchable song upon their lips. Mothers have smiled proudly through their tears and in the midst ot their anguish felt a throb of joy that triumphed over pain. The tragedy of nations has taught poets to sing, given birth to great music, and lent a new magic to art.

And when we turn to the history o. the Christian Church, we find' it exulting in tribulation, and counting it all jov when the sword was bared and persecution let loose upon Christ’s folk. In the midst of mighty world upheavals, which, left the church pre> oi hostile forces, and exposed the little ones of Christ to untold hardships and perils, joy sprang up like a well in the wilderness—pure, brave contagious—a joy which flickers in and out of the records of martyrdom, and runs like a thread of scarlet and! fine ■gold through the literature. of the pages of persecution. . . .In the clays of fire and sword, to be a Christian meant to be full of joy.

For us who live in a day of sort disillusionment, the wells , of jo\ often seem impenetrably sealed. We think ef joy atf something that nun bo reached through pain, somethin* that may come to us after sorrow bravely endured; but we can hard I j imagine joy—.spontaneous, deep, mighty to transform and renew—springing up in the midst of pain. We think of sorrow ns the very stuff of life, as the foundation upon which the Temple of God among men is to be built, and of joy as something super added, as the lily work was added to the finished pillars .of the ancient sane tnary. But if we brood more deep!;, upon the moaning of life, taking the lamp of God in our hand, we will discover that whatever be the Divine function of sorrow—joy lies at the foundation of the universe. When that foundation was laid, the morning stars snng together, and all the sons o God shouted for joy, because God had hidden joy beneath the corner stone ol being, and nut immortal gladness within the deep heart of the world. When the chill darkness of sin swept over the fair creation of God and its shining foundations were obscured, joy still remained unclouded. For deep in the hears of God throbbed joy of redeeming a lost world, ‘‘the fever of His man-loving heart” which made it His delight to be with the children of men and drew the Lord of Heaven down to earth for our salvation. Christ came with a song of gladness; Divine joy making music in His heart which no sin could , drown. And when at the last He stood among His chosen band, stripped of evervthing that made life humanly tolerable, and on the eve of losing life itself, His words were of joy. “Thai mv joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.” He who had nowhere to lay His head, whose lot was- cast with the poor and despised, upon whom man’s hatred was about to fall with such appalling fury, spoke with quiet exultation of His wonderful possessions, His rich estate. “My Father. . . My slice]). . . Mv peace. . . My joy. . . These were the notes ot the immortal melody of gladness that, welled up unceasingly from the heart of the Man of Sorrows. And the dis-

ciples were the first joy-bringers to a joyless world, and took the jov of Christ with )>oth hands till it trickled through their fingers, as it were, m a, golden shower that irradiated the gloom of Home, paled' the tinsel of Antheniun light-heartedness with its lustre, and touched the fringes, of the barbarian world with the glow of deathless hope.

We often hear it said that the postwar disillusionment lias caused jm eclipse of faith in the hearts of manythoughtful men and women. But probably what is deemed, at least in the majority of cases, an eclipse of faith is not really such, but rather the exposure of a lack of faith that was unsuspected before. For such souls there is a hope—inspiring message. We would hid them. look up. What they deemed faith was only a second-hand religious habit acquired from association with the fellowship of believers. They have not lost the soul’s jewel] it was never theirs; and it awaits their grasp now, in the day of their disillusionment and dispair. For God’s footsteps are on the sea of the world’s unrest, and He will over rule all its strange movements for the furtherance of His Kingdom. He is waiting for those who have lost Him in the darkness, for those who have never yet found Him—waiting to mingle His redeeming sorrow with that of their disappointed hearts. And, as they meet Him thus, a new joy will pour into their being— : a joy that will outlive all disillusion —and they will sing in the night the song they did not know in the glare of daylight. “As sorrowful yet always rejoicing.” In the Christian heart joy and' sorrow are wondrouslv commingled. For it the Cross ever buds and blossoms, and out of the dark heart of the grave shines a light that makes, the whole world glad. There is no sorrow like the sorrow of the Christian soul, for it fills up that which is lacking of the sufferings of Christ, and its capacity tor grief is dilated by communion with Sim who bore all griefs so full of greed and injustice, ignorance and folly, His heart is pierced with a poignancy the svorlding cannot understand. His sympathy is so sharpened by contact with the Redeemer as to become almost substitutionary in its vividness. He not only feels, but bears the sin and sorrow and shame of - the world, as a mother bears the sin and sorrow and shame of her son. He sees them as they wound the heart of Christ, and thwart the purpose of Eternal Dove. Bowed down in humiliation for the common sin of mankind, he would sink beneath thfe burden, did he not feel his Lord hearing it as only He can bear, and bear away the sin of the world.

But as he sorrows, and only in the measure in which he sorrows, the fountain of joy is unsealed within him, for his sorrow is born of love. To speak of love is to speak of the- Cross; hut to speak of love is to speak of joy also. Look down the vista of the Christian ages. No one ever loved and suffered with or for Christ who did not know a jov so irresponsible and exuberant that’ it had to find vent in song. Joy and martyrdom are indissolubly wedded, for joy has always been the atmosphere of heroic virtues. It- is_ a fruit of the Cross; it cannot live with selfish ease, obtuse opulence, or skilful avoidance of pan—

Let us, then, take our share in the world’s sorrow as a gift of God, and we shall find ioy spreading strong roots beneath the bitter soil of sorrow and flowering upward in deathless bloom. Thus will it be given us “to share the whole world’s tears, and still be glad” ; to walk amid the ruins of mortal life as magnate of a joy that is beyond the reach of spoliation.

Whene’er 1 am in Gold’s employ I am a millionaire of joy. A. magnate am I of delight, Whenever God is in my sight. A sun is rising in my soul When in God’s war I dare enrol. All Heaven descends to me with a song, When, Lord, Thy love in me grows strong. Oh, let me not forget one sin. Howe’er Thy harrows hurt within, • ... Whene’er I am in .Gbdl’s employ, I am a millionaire of joy; Wbenc’ev X lift my eyes above, I am a millionaire of love; Whene’er with love my feet are shod, I am a millionaire of God.