SUNDAY READING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXII, Issue 7341, 30 May 1885, Page 4 (Supplement)

SUNDAY READING.

WHAT HAS CHRISTIANITY DONE

FOR US! It has given us "rest." Some of us were floundering in the horrible pit Mid miry clay of sin, perfectly incapable of extricating ourselves, when it came with its strong, beneficent, loving grasp, and drew us oat, and gave us a new chance and a fresh start. Others of us were sorely perplexed. We had no fixed principles—at least, none to speak of. Confused by the clash and clatter of opinions that went on around as, taming first to one adviser and then to another, we knew not what to think; and, instead of living a life, we were perpetually asking questions, and receiving no answer; perpetually starting problems, and finding no solution. Now, this is all altered. We have come to a settlement, and know where we are, to our unspeakable comfort. A man may be a strong man enough, and active enough, but, if you place him on an insecure and slippery footing, of what avail are his broad shoulders and muscular arms ? He can do Very little. He will be entirely occupied in keeping his balance. Plant him, however, on solid ground, on a eure basis, and what a difference there will be! So with ss. We have our feet on the rock now, and we can put forth to their utmost streneth the powers, whatever they may be, that we possess, and we can engage,' with safety and with comfort to ourselves, in working the work of the world. 1 Do you say this persuasion of ours is all a delusion ? Well, think as you may, "it is a delusion which has exercised a marvellously transforming influence upon our heart and life."

Again, this Christianity has given us a " certainty." Wβ rind men nowadays walking in a fog.; at least, we fiid that very many of them are not sure whether they are in the right path or not. They ask everyone they meet to be so good as to direct them, and they are ready to accept for goepel the assertions of the last coiner till the next comer arrives. Like Pilate, nearly two thousand years ago, they have the question perpetually on their lips, " What is truth ?" and at length they beein to doubt whether there is euch a thing as truth at all in the matters which concern their duties here and their destiny hereafter, and they give themselves up to drift, like weeds on a tide, over the ever-shifting currents of contemporary speculation. With us it is different. There are some things we are sure about; we have no misgiving, no doubt concerning them whatever. We believe, for instance, with a coufidence that nothing can shake, in the resurrection of Jesus Christ That resurrection is to us a fact; more certainly a fact than many which via are accustomed to regard as such. We believe with confidence in the Fatherhood of God. In our view, it is blankly incredible that there should be laws without a Law-giver, and that this universe should be formed by the concurrence of atoms mysteriously endowing themselves with the germs of life and intelligence ; indeed, we might be nnphilosophical enough to amue* ourselves with the idea, were it not for the deadly animus against God which it displays. Nor can we credit that we are cast at the feet of a huge machine, which, when once set a-going, has has been left to work out its results with pitiless precision, but without anything like a loving, divinely - sent superintendence. But we look up and see, through all complications, the hand of a Heavenly Father, who loves us and cares for us, and who busies Himself in conducting our frail and bungling lives to a blessed issue. We believe, too, in the practical efficaoy of prayer. We hold that prayer is not a mere spiritual "dumb-bell exercise," intended to promote the soul-warmth and soul-reform of the solitary actor engaged in it, bat that it produces, if we may so say, an effeot upon God which could not be produced without it; and when olever men— far cleverer than we are—talk about fixed law, and the inflexible progression of events, and tell us in effect that prayer is so much empty breath, we just put their words into one scale and the words of Jesus Christ into the other, and are quite content. If to be prayerless is to be wise, we are satisfied to be fools, especially in such good company. Do you say that all this, this belief in the resurrection, in the Fatherhood of God, in the efficacy of prayer, is a delusion ? Well, say so if you like, but at least " it is a delusion which we have found to exercise a most strengthening iniiuenee upon heart and life."

Again, our Christianity has given us a power to resist temptation, whioh, without it, we feel we should never have possetseJ. We hold that a new life has been imparted to us; that we have been raised into an element in which, if we abide, we are lifted above the atmosphere of low motive and grovelling desires, in which, alas I too many of our fellow-men—born to better and nobler things—are contented to live. "A delusion," you say, "Well," we answer, "if it be a delusion, 'it is a delusion which has strangely raised us, elevated us, and made us better than we were.'"

And yet, ones again, our Christianity has given us definite ideas about a future state. We do not profess to know very much about the subject. Streets of gold, and gates of pearl, and foundations of precious stones, and all the gorgeous images of the Apooalypse, do not convey to us, nor are they, we suppose, intended to convey to us, any thoughts we oan really grasp; but we can form a tolerably clear conception of what Jesus Christ is, and of what pleases Him; and this enlightens us, to a certain extent, as to the nature of the place or region in whioh He makes His most distinct selfmanifestation. Nor is this all. We believe we have—we say it in all humility—a personal acquaintance with this Great Being. He is no stranger to us. We " know Him," as St. Paul says, and we believe that death, with all its painfa! and humiliating accompaniments, will be nothing more, if we continue faithful, than the coming of this known Friend, who has walked with us through life, to receive us to Himself, that where He it; there all Hie friends may be ?leo. Yon say, "This is the greatest and grossest delusion of all." Well, say so if you please, but, at any rate, "it is a delusion which imparts to us great comfort, for we feel that when we die we shall not be taking a leap in the dark." This being the case with us, we are anxious that others ehould share opt blespiogs, Ia the. aai'y <3ays, vjflen Ctmai w choosing His diucjpk-s, one of them, brimful of his own joy, .hurried off to tell the news to a friend, and to bring him to Christ. But his eager enthusiasm was checked at once by a difficulty. " The Messiah !" cried the friend, " and out of Nazareth 1 Who uver knew a good thing issue from that degraded locality ? Your story is inconceivable, your facts are wrong, you must be egregiously mistaken." Now, Philip, perhaps, felt 'aimself to be no adept at arguing ; at all events, he felt that arguing was not the way to convince his friend of the truth of his statement; and so he adopted a much better plan. He simply said, "Come and see; come and judge for yourself;" for he knew that in the sight of that graoious Presence all his friend's objections would vanish, as mists before the rising sun. The result, as you will remember, justified him in the course he took. And so with us. We are no professed disputants. We know that controversy is a match of intellectual skill, in whioh the practised player, familiar with all the turns, and triokt, and rules of the game, gets the better of the unpractised opponent, even if he should happen to bave truth on his side. We doubt, too, if arguing wins hearts. We think it wiser, then, and more likely to be effectual in most cases, to do as Philip did : waive controversy, to decline the olasb and clatter of argument, and simply to say, This is Christianity, or rather what Christ has done for us : Hβ has changed the current of our lives, has given us rest and peace and repose of soul; has elevated our conceptions and our character ; has nerved and strengthened us for doty ; has been, in fact, a source of blessing such as we are unable to describe. Could a "delusion" have done all this? Come, then, we pray you, and judge for yourselves whether He be not all that we have told you, and very much more.— Quiver, "HE BEGAN TO SINK." [BT THE BET. J. L. HILL.] And bo tu?e many of the follower* of Jesus as well as Peter. They have been called in Providence to step down from a position of comparative security, and to walk on the heaving waters of new and serious trial. The winds of threatening calamity have sssmed about to overwhelm them, and no friendly hand has been visibly near to aid. They have been forgetting Him who is able to make them walk on the sea of adversity

as on the solid land of more encouraging circumstance*. They have begun bo sink. My reader, has it been so /with you! £«• hups yon are apt to imagine that yon have more than began to sink— yon have actually sunJt altogether. This is a ground* less imagination, or yon would not be where yon are with-these word* before yon. Yon may not 'have even begun really to sink, though you imagine you have sunk altogether. You. may not yet have began thoroughly to despair of creature aid, so as to ;say in utter helplessness, "Lord, save me, or I I" Yon may have so tenaciously Mug to ■ hope in man that your sinking ia merely losing ioue of that hope which lino been placed in one or two of 5 oar fellow-cvei 'ares, and it is (0 important to you that, losing that, you think you are sinking altogether. Peter, on the Sea of Galilee, was away from all creature aid, and, when he began to sink there, all was over certainly, but for Jesus. This was beginning to sink indeed. Perhaps i yon have even experienced this. Your trials have become so great that all hope is beginning to die, the lass ray is about to expire, and you are beginning to sink. Well, may not the hour be come, when you are just about to rise, never to sink again ? May not this be the time when yon are about to discover what has bean to you hitherto a profound —that is. the reason why yon have ever felt a tendency to sink at all? It will be a blessed matter if it is so. Let us see. Jesus said to Peter, as He took him by the hand, "0 thou of little faith, wherefore didet thou doubt?" May not the time be come when you will discover that but for groundless doubt you would never sink even for a moment " Wherefore didst thou doubt?" Is there one good reason for a single fear With nuch a God and Saviour as we have in Jesus, have we even a fraction of a reason why our hearts should sink within us in real despair ? May not this be the time "when you will discover this ? If so, your beginning to sink will be the beat thing that ever occurred to you. Consider I the love that barns in the heart of Him who was willing to die accursed in your room. Can there be reason to sick when such love in in full etrength towards you ? Consider the ground on which you are ever free to the full enjoyment of this love. Can you lack good reason for trusting the kindness' of your God, when you are told by Himself to behold the Lamb bearing the sins of the world 1 Consider the. axhaustless resources of Him who loved you and gave Himself for you, and have you a single good reason to fear? Not one. Let your sinking heart, letting go all creature grounds of hope, turn to Bim, believing Him to be what Hβ really is ; and, if you should have to walk still on the sea, you will be safe from everything like sinking. Realise every hour ot the day that one stands near ready to help and to save, and no trial, no temptation, and no sorrow will overcome you. COMPANIONSHIP WITH CHRIST. {BY THE BKV. BAY PALMKB, D.D.] Is this a possibility ? Am I authorised, is every true disciple authorised, to regard it as a really practicable thing to live daily, now and here, in the intimacy of a sweet and holy friendship with the Lord Jesus—a mutual sympathy and delight founded on a profound personal affection ? When He had finished His great redeeming work He ascended in His glorified body to the throne of Heaven, invested with supreme dignity and power. In that body, and as Head over all things, He is beyond our sight; far away from this earth on which once He walked with men. He is hidden in the infinite unknown, until the great day when He shall come again visibly to sense in the clouds of Heaven. Can it then be, in anything more than a figurative sense, that lie now may actually be present and in living contact with His disoiples on the earth?. Is it allowed, to even the humblest of them, to have consciously His daily presence; to enjoy the many pleasures of immediate intercourse ; to talk with Him as friend talks with friend, and to feel the stimulus, the strength; and the high enjoyment .which the most oongenial and loving frionds feel _in meeting heart to heart ? Is suoh companionship with my adored and exalted Lord indeed to be now enjoyed, or is it something purely ideal, a fond dream of an imaginative pietism ? That it is a sublime and blissful reality both the Bible and' experience prove. Jesos Himself promised it in the simplest and plainest word. "I will not leave you orphans; 1 will come unto yon. He that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father, and I will love him and will manifest Myself unto him." No words could be more explioit; and when the curious question how de.would do it was started He made no reply to that; but, ■ instead, repeated the statement, even making it.yet' more emphatic, "If a man love Me, he will keep My Words, and My Father will love .him, and We will come unto him, and make Our abode with him." As to the manner in which this personal manifestation of Himself should be made, the Master very well knew that no verbal explanation would avail; that the matter could be understood only in the experience of .what was promised. What He attested was, that, though He should thenceforward be "the Lamb in the midst of the throne" of Heaven as to His glorified humanity, He could, and would, so come into the consciousness of His disciples when in a state of preparation to receive Him, as to make the contact and companionship no less real and blessed than if He should cone in bodily form and visible to sense. LABOUR AND REST. Seat is sweet, and ease is pleatan*, When the shades of evening (all, And no care, no grief is present, No regret to mar it all. Best Is sweet, bat labour sweeter. Wben its impul-e comes from Heaven ; No enjoyment can be greater Where the strength and grace are given. Weary, hungry Jesus, fitting: By the sido of Jacob's well, Found refreshment there more fitting Than old Sychar bad to sell. Needful place to lay His hnad In, Seldom had our Lord in view ; * But where'er His path was leading, There He found some work to do. * And when all his friends were sleeping, jn the mountain Re In prayer: Often was a vigil keeping ; And He met His Father there. Let me take the pattern given, Live upon the Father's love; Labour on my way to Heaven, Looking for my rest above. ■ :