SUNDAY READING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXV, Issue 9244, 22 December 1888, Page 4 (Supplement)

SUNDAY READING.

CHRISTMAS ! [BY CANON WILBERFOIICE, M.A.] " Oh, that Thou wouldest rend the Heavens and conio down."lsa. lxix., 1. Truly has it been said, "Nothing but the Infinite Pity is adequate to meet the infinite pathos of human life." This cry of the Prophet Isaiah, glowing with the passion of Divine inspiration, is an articulate expression of the dumb pleading of the "infinite pathos" crying for the "Infinite Pity" to come to its relief. False religions, pagan incantations, blind superstitions, hideous rites, equally with the purer aspirations of throbbing hearts and yearning souls have kept up all down the ages a continuous repetion of the utterance of Isaiah : "Oh, that Thou wouldest rend the heavens and come down." Christmas Day is the anniversary of the exact moment in human history when the Infinite Pity completely, comprehensively, and liberally satisfied the cry of thirsting humanity, and came down. Consider HOW THIS ROYAL DESCENT WAS ACCOMPLISHED. It was not with pomp and circumstance, with brilliant demonstration of power to stun into submission all rebellious intellects, and -*coerce into obedience all independent wills. In an obscure corner of a remote province of the Roman Empire. ISSS years ago, a mysterious choir of angels chant a midnight anthem to a few watchers, and a littls Child is found lying upon the bosom of a peasant maiden, and at that supreme moment is fulfilled the word of prophecy, " Unto us a Child is born, unto us a .Son is given; and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Everlasting Father, Mighty God, Prince of Peace." Christmas Day is no day for frigid orthodoxy or crcdal definitions; it is a day for reproclaiming and reaffirming verities that have become incorporated in the lives of millions. It is enough to say that the doctrine of this day, the coming of God out of _ unconditioned space into the forms and limitations of human experience, cannot be measured, defined, and framed into a syllogism. As the Christian Church gazes to-day into the depths of the Incarnation at the manger-bed of her infant Lord, she is unable to explain or demonstrate it. We who cannot define our own existence, to whom the tiny insect dancing in the sunbeam is an incomprehensible mystery, cannot define the matter in which "all the fulness of the Godhead bodily" dwells in the Babe of Bethlehem. The awakened faith faculty receives the truth, and thousands of converted hearts to-day will blend their voices with the never-ceasing Gloria in Excelsis, saying, " Thou only art holy, Thou only art the Lord, Thou only, 0 Christ, with the Holy Ghost, art most high in the glory of God the Father."

THE SPECIAL CHRISTMAS MESSAGE appears to me to lie in the following words :- —" He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not" (St. John i., 10). Otherwise expressed, that little helpless Wonder at Bethlehem was the Creator King visiting His subjects that He might blend with their lives and share their infirmities and implant a new moral force into their hearts under the concealment of what we call an incognito. A celebrated Emperor of Russia, sensible of an alienation between himself and his people, at one time dressed himself as a vagrant, and moved about unknown amongst the poorest of his subjects that he might learn their distresses and know how to relieve their sorrows In a village near Moscow he knocked at the door of a humble dwelling and pleaded hoinelessness and poverty. He was received, the scanty fare of the cottage was shared with him, and he was sent forward on the morrow with a blessing. The peasant knew not that he had entertained his king until in due time he was summoned to the Court of " Ivan the Terrible," and received a thousandfold reward for his hospitality. The over-living Immanuol, " God in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself," came thus into human history quietly, without observation, under the concealment of an incognito. The pride, fashion, self-indulgence, hollowness, nypocrisy of the world knew Him not, but " unto as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God. It is with the combined creed and prayer upon the litis, " Lord, I believe, help Thou mine unbelief," that I bow my heart to believe that my God has come to seek me in the purity and power of a stainless humanity. Ho was not content to send His brightest Archangel with an embassage of peace and a message of love, but He came Himself. There is an Italian proverb, " Chi von vuole manda, chi vuolc vcuia," " He who does not want sends, he who wants comes." God wanted, so God came. Man had lost sight of his God and his Father; he could only recover it by having that love forced upon him in such a form as to draw him out of his selfseeking, God wanted man, and to win His children to Himself He must come to them, not by a book or a message or an angel, but in a Life. He must touch humanity and enter into it and wear its llesh and lift its load and share its experiences and personally partake of its sufferings. Ten years ago a philanthropist of wealthy surroundings deeply commiserated the condition of the casual paupers of the land; he desired to refine, aid, and elevate them; he could arrive at no certain information as to their position and distresses ; therefore, he " heard their cry and came down." He assumed a pauper garb, applied for admittance to a casual ward, passed a long night amidst the sad surroundings and unclean language of the lowest class of society, and thus gained an experience of more value than all the hearsay evidence in the world. " This hath God done." For us men and our salvation He assumed the life of the homeless pauper; cradled in a manger in infancy, ana a wanderer from village to village in manhood, He hath borne our griefs, lived our life, carried our sorrows. Belief in a doctrine is worth just what it can produce of rest, peace, purity, spiritual elevation in the life, and nothing more.

THE EMPIRE THAT THE KINCJ INCOGS CAME TO FOUND T0 was one over the individual hearts of «, He has never left the world into L???" came on the first Christmas Day. Ho «,. 5 through the " casual ward" of human vl d ascended into the centre of all beintr «£»«• the declaration, "Behold, I am Ho \1 1 ' 3 liveth and was dead, and behold, I am ,is at for evermore," and solemnly promisedww e continued presence in the words "T with you always " The question each ££ must answer to-day is, Has He won heart, is He a welcome Guest in my £** Remember, He comes to hearts now mcwh ? quietly, without observation, as He cam!' Bethlehem eighteen centuries ago. \V,\,u ful hearts hear His approach, and l et ft in. This Christmas time millions In observe His birthday with self-induhr o '„ and perhaps with some feelings of 1»,, ' volence, but they know Him not. "He '• the world and the world was made by Him » but the world knows Him not. Will i, pass a happy Christmas, let him summon that silent power which was cradled * Bethlehem into his heart and house an, home. Happy in the widest sense we can,/ often be after the age of childhood <;' r education of suffering is part of our training here below. Families must scatter children must wander far from parents, the ,1 . ' circle of home life must be broken, and ti7 vacant chair will ever leave a large » m ! Christmas time; but a firm acceptance „* the .Message of Bethlehem is tile lJivin antidote to all sorrow. It is not a n , ? Christ, a baby Christ, a suffering Christ an afflicted Christ, who is the life and light an 1 salvation of men. Now, to us, "Immanue ' means the risen, living Christ wrought into our very nature, transforming us, renewing us, purifying us, ° LIVING OUT HIS LIFE IN US. Do you thus know Him ? Then lay your self out to manifest Him by gentleness' humility, self-forgetting kindness during this Christmas season. Determine that you will make others happy, whatever may be the load on your own heart, especially those younger than yourself who have not vet tasted of the bitter waters. Amongst tln> followers of the Babe of Bethlehem there are too many misunderstandings and jarriivs of domestic peace; there are husbands "and Wives, brothers and sisters, suffering some foolish friction to keep them from full loving soul-communion, and the chariot wheels of family life are running heavily in consequence. Before the Christmas Day festival is past will you not, in the spirit of your Master, sacrifice pride by doing something or saying something which shall heal an estrangement and bring sundered souls together in the unity of the Spirit and the bond of peace? Then, though Christmas time savours of vanished hands and whispers of still tongues, and with its thoughts of other years brings rather tears to your eyes than laughter to your lips, you shall he happy, for you will have intensified your communion with your Lord and manifested . HIS REIGN OVEf. YOUR HEART. .Approach Him, then, to-day, as did the wise men of old, with your gold, your frankincense, your myrrh— gold in charity for the poor He loved; your frankincense in heartfelt praise of Him who came from Heaven to seek you; your myrrh in the death of self, the humility which will take the lowest place to heal an estrangement or remove a misunderstanding; and for everyone whose eye may rest on these lines I pray the prayer of the Apostle, "That He would grant you according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth and length and depth and height and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with the -ness of God." CHRISTMAS BELLS. I chanced upon: the merry, merry Christmas Eve I went singing past the church, across the moor. land dreary : Oh! never sin, anil, want, and woe this earth will leave, And the bells but mark the wailing sound, they sing so cheery. How long, O Lord! how long before Thou come again Still iii cellar, and in garret, and on moorland dreary The orphans moan, and widows weep, and poor men toil in vain, Till the earth is sick of hope deferred, though Christinas bells be cheery. Then arose' a joyous clamour from the wild fowl on the mere, ' Beneath the stars, across the snow, like clear bells ringing ; • ■ And a voice within cried, " Listen ! Chrismas carols even here Though thdu be dumb; yet o'er their work the stars and snows are singing. "Blind! I Jive, I love, I reign; and all'the nations through, With the thunder of My judgments even now are ringing ; Do thou tulhl thy work, but as yon wildfowl do, Thou wilt heed no less the wailing, yet hear through it the angels singing '." C. KINGSLEY. CHRISTMAS WAITING. "Wait for the promise of the Father."— i., 4. The children sat in the homestead; On the eve of the Christmas Day ; And the father had made them a promise In the morn when lie went a way— A promise that he would bring them A present of goodly things ; So they wait for his coming footstep, And the gift that his strong arm brings. We wait for our Father's promise, too, For we know that His faithful Word is true. We wait for the Father's promise ! A living and precious seed : lie has planted it deep in our bosom; For its blooming we ever plead. Wo watch for its tirst upspringing, Kxpecting a flower fair ; But, childlike, are sometimes impatient, When finding no bright buddings there. Yet we wait for our Father's promise still, For the seed He soweth no frost can kill. We wait for the Father's promise '. We wait as for some dear friend, Who comes from a distant country, With gifts that his love will send; With smiles for the waiting children, A kiss for the babes in grace : We wait for the coming loved One, And look for His sunny face. Our Father's promise is on the way, Let us go and meet it in hope's bright day. I know not what is the promise Thy Father has made to thee ; But whatever the gracious whisper Thou waitest in faith to see, Remember, it is thy Father Who speaketh the gracious word ; And wait, as a child believing, To see what thine ears have heard. We wait—oil, how many are they who stand, And look for the gift of the promising hand ! William Luff.