FAREWELL SERVICE

Northern Advocate, 4 April 1921, Page 3

FAREWELL SERVICE

CLOSE OF REV. J. R- CLARK'S

MINISTRY

AT WH'ANGA'RBI METHODIST

CHURCH

The Rev. J. R- Clark conducted his farewell service at the Whangarei Methodist Church last night. There was a very large congregation, the church being well filled.

■Mr Clark took for his text 11. Corinthians, XIII. 11: "Finally, breth,ren, farewell;" He said: "The hour has come, my friends, by me always dreaded, when for the last time as your preacher —perhaps the last time for ever —certainly the last time so far as this particular congregation is concerned, I stand here to bid you a hearty, a graceful and an affectionate farewell. There is necessarily something sad and s olemn in t&ese partings. They remind u s that there is nothing in this world that we can call our own—that all God gives us is His, not ours, just lent, not given, or if given, sometimes taken-away and in His mercy given back in other forms. We are reminded also that our time here is short, for at the best, we, like our fathers, are only dwellers in tents. Here and there, on some green spot, we -linger a s it were for a time, but the evening comes at last, the stars come out, the encampment is broken up, and we move away And very soon we shall have made our last stay of all, the horizon of our sky will be crimson with its last sun set; the last shadows of the twilight will lengthen round us, and the last farewell will be sighed forth from wearied lips. After that our tent will be a moving, tent no. longer, for we hope that then it will be pitched for the lasft time under the walls of the heavenly city, and the sun shall go down on us no more—Tor as you know —under certain conditions —'at even-tide it shall be light.'

"The first word of our text brings up before us the memory of the past —the times and the things that have gone. 'Finally, brethren, farewell' I want you to hear with me kindly tonight. This is to me no great occasion, but a time of sadness, when I would rather lean upon your sympathy than attempt to preach an elaborate sermon. Many of you next Sunday will again fee gathered here, and though I am 'bound to think of your faces as they appear to me now, though I shall recall to my mind those whom I have known, those whose future life 4 shall watch with the deepest interest, whose aame s (though they never knew it) I have often borne to the throve of the heavenly grace. Yet I shall not be her# IAU, by God's blessing, will go on ias successfully, as happily—i fc may be more happily and successfully • —without me. Believe me, I am not making a mistake. I have never for a moment exaggerated the importance of my work. I have felt, .and I still feel, that no particular man is necessary and no man's work. goeth. forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening.' The evening of my work here has come. I leave you, and g?> to another sphere but the work does not, cannot, stand still. The Lord changes His workmen, but He carries on the work. But I will say this: Invariably a s I have mounted the' steps of this pulpit the desire of my heart has been to s hare with you those eternal thoughts which are the bread of life t 0 our souls, to speak to you" s o that everyone might understand, to .make every "sermon an influence for good; a force, insignificant perhaps, but a recognised force on the side of God. 'How then can I review or recapitulate in the •few moments that are 'left to me of all that I have said to you of sin and forgiveness, of peace and sorrow, of the life here, and the life heyond the graVe? For four years, more or less regularly, I have spoken to you of our Father in heaven; of Jesus Christ, the only Saviour; and of the Holy Spirit, whose guidance is so necessary if sorrow is to be turned into joy, darkness into light, and defeat into victory. I have spoken to you, my friends, searching and solemn words, with regard to duty to God and our duty to those among whom we live- I hajve given to you the germ thought of eternal truth. What will you do with the thoughts and words of the pasft? I know that some of you have been often moved by the Divine Spirit as you have listened to Gospel truth, as presented to you on the SaUjbath days as they have come and gone. But let me say as affectionately a«5 ever I can that good resolutions -£?e of no avail, unless they lead to practical results, unless they, work out in us. the peaceable fruits of righteousness. Some of you, as the result of' a "Divine impulse, have

sought counsel and guidance, and I have been able by God's grace to -point some at least to the Saviour. If I could feel that the words I have spoken from this place have Drought a blessing to you,that in any way they . have helped to smooth your path in life, that they have been the means of bringing you nearer to God, that would give me greater joy than anything I know. To-night I feel -intensely anxious about this. Some little time ago, a man who had just

embraced Christianity, regretted the fact that he had not done so earlier. I could understand the man's feelings. But of course it is out of my power to bring anyone to Christ. - 1 cannot make you Christians. I wish 1 could. But I do say this: Not a single member of this congregation can say, with tirnth, 'I have never been 'invited to make Jesus my Kina:-' The mischief is that so many men and women to-day will not accept the invitation, and my fear to-night is that though so many of you know the whole counsel of God. though you have been fa'niliar with the Gospel ever since you were boys and girls, yet after all you may have to say. 'The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved.' The thought that this is possible makes me j very anxious to-night. I cannot tell you how much joy it would give me if I were quite sure that all present now would allow Christ so to mou.d and fill their life that one day when our journeyings here are over we may meet again in our Father's home above. The four years spent among you here have been happy ones- In some respects the work has been hard, and as you know my hands have been full; I have cometimes thought .that the inability to concentrate has . impaired the effectiveness of the work. But God has given me many . 'cind, warm-hearted and appreciative ■ friends. By His grace I have been an able d to gain the affection of nany, the sympathy of most, and the loyalty of all. When I think about my relations with you and the as- ' ;ociations of this of prayer, amotions of gratitude, joy and sorrow, s eem struggling for precedence, md so I say for these things, for the ?ood hand of my God upon me, for '.'our unwearied kindness, and your liligent co-operation, I thank my lod, I thank you. I have been told by those who ought to know that I should' consider myself fortunate in my appointment for next year. But, 'f I know myself, if I know anything if the claims that are made upon -he Methodist ministry, I shall not lave an easy time; it will not be all ilain sailing. It may be in my new home in Canterbury, in the midst of the disappointments of the sower, and the worry of circuit work, the memory of your appreciative kindness, and your ever-ready help will come to me with refreshing sweetness, like a cup of cold water in the desert, or the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. But I am not satisfied. The object of all preaching is to teach us from the first to do God's will, so patiently and consistently that eventually the will of God becomes our will, and we find j ourselves doing, not what we like, | but what we ought, until ought and like are identical; to act, not as we wish, but as we will, until what we will to do because it is right, is also what we wish to do because it is pleasant—to do our duty under all circumstances until in small things, as in great, by habit, by second nature, it becomes to us as easy as it is blessed. Do you say that is a high ideal? I know, but it is what I covet for you as your experience. I&m anxiou g that your life should be correctly described in the words of the Psalmist, 'They go from strength to strength, everyone of them in Zion appeareth oefore God.' I want to say that in s pite of all appearance to the contrary this is the only type of really true happiness, and I say distinctly that to make men and women understand this should be the objective of all preaching.

"I pass ovei' the second word of our text, although the word 'brethren' is very suggestive, telling as it does of relationship with all its privileges and responsibilities. To me this is a congenial theme —the brotherhood of man —'but I must not touch it tonight, except to remind you of this j fact that sometimes we serve God I best when we lay ourselves out to serve our brother man. But your time is going and the last word of our text seems to reach out into the future —the future that holds so much that is uncertain for us all. " 'Farewell'—fare you well, that is my wish for you in the future. There is no subject to-day that is more largely questioned than this, as to what for us and for ours lies beyond the veil that hides the future, , ' an d although we sometimes sing 'The future lies before me and I know not what 'twill be' —yet we all want to know. Many of us have reached middle age, some are on the down grade, and yet we look forward, with almost boyish eagerness to see what the future will bring to us. The •page of the future i s as yet unwritten, and when I say 'fare you well' I mean that I hope and pray that that page which now lies open before us may be written upon in a way that there may 'be no blots or smears. Sin, as you know, i 3 the great blot on the pages of all our live?. But that blot may be removed, for the "Blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, clcanseth from all sin/ and John saw ' you remember, 'a great multitude that-had washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb-' Let us then set up for our. selves,an ideal, and like the Apostle, press forward.'for the prize of our high calling of God in Christ Jesus.' ■ Atay I say, too, that we need not be

I discouraged if we sometimes fail, if things do not go so smoothly a? we could wish, and we are bound to make mistakes. But there is comfort in the thought that 'he who makes no mistakes make s nothing else.' I*want to remind you that, it is not of golden threads that the web of any life i s woven. To all of us pain must come, overpowering weariness and many blighted hopes. Some of us will weep over the graves of those we dearly love; all of »■: will suffer from ether;-;' meanness and malice, and near or far, no one knows, but somewhere in the shadow, Death stands waiting for everyone of u?. But what says the Psid-Yi- 1 ;? 'Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, and who shall dand in His holy place?' He that • 1:1 th clean hands and a pure heart, who ha Hi not luted up his soul to vanity nor sworn deceitfully- He ;hall receive the blessing of the Lord, and righteousness iifi'oni; the God of his salvation.' We may have sorrows and failures, others may grow rich while we remain poor. Some may be successful where we fail, but if to u s in the future comes the blessing of God—that blessing which makes rich and adds no sorrow—then we need not envy anyone, and whether you and I receive that blessing just depends upon ourselves. It all hinges on whether or not we make Jesus King of our life. He claims our devotion. He is worthy of our love and service, and if we are prepared to allow Him, He will make our lives all that in our best moments we wish they were. That is the experience I pray that all may have when I say to you to night—■ Farewell. With .regard to myself I should like to say a word or two. We have often prayed that the Di* vine Spirit may work mightily here and I want you to go on praying that the Divine blessing may so rest upon the work here that the 'bread cast upon the waters may be found jifter many days-' lam thankful that signs are not wanting. I have been much cheered by many of these signs. On several occasions I have received letters from friends in my former circuits thanking me for the good they have received from my ministry, and I shall always be glad to get similar letters from Whangarei, so that both sower and reaper may rejoice together. But what about the present? After all the present i s all that we can call our own. Yesterday is ours no longer. To-morrow to you and me may never come, and so I say to every unconverted person here tonight 'Accept Jesus Christ as you Master and King, and accept Him now, for now is the day of sal' vatjon.' This i s my last appeal to you- This is the closing service of my ministry here, and I asA jou 'What are you going to do with •Jesus?' Will you crown Him with your heart's glad surrender? Will you place your life's powers, at His disposal? Will you? Will you for your own sake; for the sake of your loved ones, for the sake of those around you, and for His own dear sake turn to Him now? That was a blessed day for me more than 45 years ago when I gave myself up to Christ. I have never regretted the decision I made then. I have regretted my imperfect s erviee, my failure, and my sin, Ibut never once during all those years have I been sorry that on a never-to-be-forgotten day I gave myself to Jesus Christ, and this is my closing word to you: Yield to .Tcsus now. Give yourselves up to be His for ever and for ever, for if you fulfil the conditions your name shall be written in the Lam'b's Book of Life, and though you and I never meet on earth again we shall meet 'where congregation? ne'er break up and Satbaths have no end.' "