SUNDAY READING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIX, Issue 9022, 29 October 1892, Page 4 (Supplement)

SUNDAY READING.

WHAT IS THE WITNESS OF THE SPIRIT? [by mark guy pearse.] There are some who think of the witness of the Spirit as a kind of revelation from heaven ; or a thrill of rapture ; or a Wonderful vision ; or a celestial manifestation something which lifts us up above other people, and singles us out as the recognised and distinguished favourites of God. If anything could make a man a Pharisee it is surely that. It is the very root of that blind and hateful Pharisaism which the Lord denounced so scathingly of old. If anything could fill a man with spiritual conceit—that most deadly and damnable of all conceits— surely it is a distinction of this sort. Whatever it is, be assured it is not that.' The witness of the Spirit is not to our spirits that we arc the children. It is with our spirits that God is our Father. That is immensely different. .Not within is the gaze turned, but without—not downward at self, but upwards at the Saviour. "He shall testify of Me," said the Lord Jesus in promising the Holy Ghost. He is to take of the things of Christ and manifest them unto us. There is in Jesus Christ a sight of our sin that humbles and shames us, yet there is a sight of love that overwhelms us. There is a declaration of righteousness before which we tremble, yet a height and depth and length and oreadth of love that is infinite. The Spirit put us in possession of that love as our own, and within us is wrought the gracious assurance that Christ loved me and gave Himself for me. And in loving tenderness the Father bends over us so pitiful, so careful ; for 'us that all the heart cries, Abba, Father. "The love of God is shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost given unto us." A blessed consciousness is thus wrought within us, which has no room for pride", but only forself-forgetfulness, wonder, gratitude, and glad obedience. His light and love make our sin a thousandfold more dark and. loathsome—a love that humbles and bewilders into lowliest adoration by its constancy and fulness. This is the great truth to which the Holy Spirit witnesses; not to our goodness, not to our superiority, but to the love and glory of Jesus Christ; to the greatness and fulness of His salvation; to the infinite loving kindness of our Father. Hence it is that there is no place for that which separates a man from the rest of the world and exalts him above other people. That which the Holy Spirit of God reveals to the children of God binds them to the world as its brothers and servants. They have discovered a love which holds all men dear as they themselves are dear, and which yearns to bless all men as they themselves are blest. St. Paul exults in Him who by the grace of God has tasted death for every man; who has swept away distinctions of nature, of nation, of circumstance. In Him is neither male nor female, Jew nor Gentile, bond nor free. John the seer cries, " Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us that we should be called the children of God." But no selfish privilege is it. "If any man sin we have an advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ the righteous, who is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but for the sins of the whole world." There arc three principal ways in which God has been pleased to reveal His truth to the world. The first is by the word spoken immediately from God to man — God spake these words and said." The second is by vision, as in the case of the prophets. The third is by the creation of an experience in the soul, and this covers almost all the ground which is not taken up by the other two. The lives of the Bible heroes and saints, and the Book of Psalms belong to this third class. Now in this threefold manner does the Holy Spirit witness to our spirit. Sometimes it is by the word of God— passage of the truth spoken as with Divine authority to the inmost heart. Sometimes it is by vision, by dream. But most commonly it is by the creation of an experience within the soul. Peace, confidence toward God, love, joy— those fruits of the Spirit which are enumerated by St. Paul. Iu thinking of this witness of the Spirit let us remember that it is no less Divine because it mows on the ordinary and natural lines of spiritual influence. There are men and women who, by their contact, do help to create within us a new experience. Rest, peace, truth, love, hope are often imparted to us by contact with others. Their influence is at once distinct yet indistinguishable. We cannot mark exactly the influence, how it came and how it wrought. Now it is in this quiet and natural way, for the most part, that the witness of the Spirit is given. The word witnesseth with is one that we need ever lay emphasis upon as distinct from witnesseth to —but the word in the Greek is yet stronger, and may be rendered co-witnes-seth with our spirits. The idea is of a blending and minglimr of spiritual influence. The Gulf Stream in its beneficent and hidden influence' may be taken as a sort of parable of this spiritual influence. This England of ours should be naturally and properly a land of almost eternal winter. For some eight months of the year our very seas ought to be frozen over so that no ship could approach our shores. Our islands should be a rough rude tract of country where only the hardiest forms of life could survive—a land of forest where wild beasts should roam whose furs would give to the place almost its only value, and where the deep snows should make agriculture almost impossible. This should be Great Britain—a proud name for so desolate a tract. What, mystery is this which delivers us? Away in the distant southern world, in the fierce heat of the tropics, starts the Gulf Stream. It gathers the warmth of the sun, and sends it thousands of miles across the seas to lave our shores. And thus the arctic winter is driven from us; and our ports are open all the year round ; over us stretch the kindlier skies; about us blow the gentler winds; our fields are covered with grass, the valleys are thick with corn; the pastures are covered with flocks and herds, and this favoured laud i:s shut off from extremes, and has the summer of the North with the winter of the South. Now, think of some shivering native of Labrador who has heard of this Gulf Stream, and scornfully shakes his head. "I do not believe it," says he, " it is impossible and absurd." Well, I would not argue the subject. I would only invite him to come and see. "But where is this Gulf Stream which does such wonders ? Can you see it?" No, we cannot see it, but it is hidden, noiseless, mingling with our waters, and transforming our climate. The parable is a many-sided illustration of the truth. Of course, of ourselves, we do dwell in a land of winter—frozen and wellnigh dead; without die energy to put forth any life of God. But 10, about us do flow gracious influences from another world. We know not how, but by the Holy Spirit of God there is breathed about us ana within us the love of God, softening, transforming, bringing to us a new heaven and a new earth. And now do grow and flourish blessed things which before we knew not. " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, loagsufferinc, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance," V

Surely the heart cries, How may this Blessed Spirit be mine ? This gift is ours for the simple asking. By the surrender and submission of the heart to His grace. Be this our prayer, now, and every : 0 God, oive me thy Holy Spirit, fob Jesus Christ's sake. Amex. TO WORKERS. [BY MRS. HARRISON LEE.] So tired, Lord. I gaze at the tangled threads and wonder how I can weave the great design that Thou has set before me. There are knots, and broken strands and faded tints. The design so rarely beautiful, so divinely grand, can never surely be woven from materials such as lie around me. In the pattern I see the golden thread in warp and woof" love to God and love to man"—but how, from such tangled threads of divers colours, can this be woven? Other hands have mixed and scattered, and half my time is gone in trying to undo. Master, my brain grows weary, my fainting heart fails, my hands hang wearily down. • (tome apart and rest awhile. So tired, Lord. The road has been so long and dreary, and thorns and briars have beset my path. Stumbling-blocks were all alone; the way, and mud and mire in many a part. My feet are cut and bleeding, Lord, my handsare wounded sore, my garments are defiled and travel-stained, and I am weary, oh, so weary, Lord. Come apart and rest awhile. So tired, Lord. I meant to do so much. With sickle keen, with eager heart, and hasty feet, I sallied out. The field was white for harvest. 1 heard the Master call but ears were deaf, and hearts were cold, and few responded to that pleading voice. I tried to do it all myself: to reap and bind and carry in the sheaves; but now, though only half the day is done, I sink despairing down. My strength is spent; the sickle falls from out my weary hand ; my fainting heart is failing, and the great field is white for harvest. I close my eyes, I cannot bear to see: so much to do, so little done, and I had meant so well. Come apart anil rest awhile. In the desert I rest alone with God. Not friend nor wife nor child can follow there. Alone I sink, but find that underneath me are the Everlasting Arms. Around, a Presence — visible, though invisible. Above, sweet dews of love softly falling to refresh my parched lips. And from the Christ of Nazareth a thousand tender whisperings float— My peace I give to you; come unto Me and rest; My hand shall shape the great design ana weave whate'er is best. The road that thou hast journeyed shall lead to blissful love, And the sheaves shall all be garnered for the harvest home above. Rest, only rest, dear worker, apart with Iliin awhile, And gather strength and gladness from thy Saviour's loving smile ; And learn the tender lesson in the midst of many cares— There is no work nor sorrow but Jesus Rladlj shares. NEW LIGHT. The spade is revealing buried secrets. Many of its discoveries are of practical and timely value, telling not only of a past civilisation, but bringing to light confirmations of the Scriptures at a time when men are seeking to tear them to pieces by hostile criticism and unsupported assertion. The ruins of old cities, for ages hidden from human sight, now revealed by the exhumer, enable us to read our Bibl* mere intelligently and strengthen confidence in its historical data. Its doctrines rest upon the ipse dixit of the Lord, and are a matter of experience. Reason and faith recognise them as God's verities. But the history of God's Word is a record of past doings, and though the believer in inspiration is ready to accept all its statements as facts, yet rationalists are not, and so it is cheering to find that just as they are most rampant and boastful, excavation comes to the aid of the Christian believer to refute the sceptic and the critic, and to verify the Scriptural accounts of long-ago occurrences. Nineveh, Babylon, and Pithom are to-day standing monuments, as modern research lays bare their contents, to the correctness of the declarations concerning them by the inspired penman. God knows how to care for His own Book. He is the God of providence as well as of revelation. He is the God of the past as well as of the present and of the future. He gave His Bible for all ages and all peoples, and he will from time to time vindicate its truth, and show from generation to generation that it carries with it net only a self-evidencing power, but that ancient periods, as well as each succeeding era, abound in testimonies to its inspired truthfulness, showing how worthy it is of all belief and acceptance, NOT I, BUT CHRIST. (GaL ii., 20.) " Not T, but Christ." Lord, let this be A motto throughout life for me. "Not I, but Christ." He is indeed All I desire and all I need. Not I, but Christ." Then let the throne Of this poor heart be His alone. " Not I, but Christ," my Lord and King, To His dear feet my all I bring. " Not I, but Christ." Here would I rest; He undertakes for the opprest. His blood has washed my sins away; His grace shall keep me all the day. "Not I, but Christ." Lord, choose for me. And make me love what pleases Thee. " Not I. but Christ." His will be done, And mine with His be merged in one. Not I, but Christ." Oh, "ay He stand For evermore at my right hand! Myself no loncer would I see, But Jesus, crucified for me. His eye to guide, His voice to cheer, His mighty arm for ever near. Oh, wondrous thought! not I, but He, The King of Glory lives in me ! M.P.