RELIGIOUS.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1261, 30 April 1896, Page 42

RELIGIOUS.

OUR LAY SERMON FOR SUNDAY READING. TIIE BURDENS WE BEAR. “ Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden.” —Matthew xi., 28. The prevalence of sorrow in this lower world is somewhat appalling to a sympathetic nature. It is to be found in a thousand shapes and in every nook and corner. The clouds have hardly held more raindrops than the tears which have fallen from human eyes. Hearts are heavy everywhere, and if wo ask why this should be, the answer must be sought with patience and perseverance. There are other experiences beside those connected with the vacant chair which are very hard to bear. It is even safe to say that death has rivals in the production of suffering, and that the loss of loved ones does not rank first among the incidents that have broken our hearts. When one has passed beyond the mysterious limit of life and disappeared from our sight, though not from our memory and affection, it may be that his fortune is better than ours. He has taken the path which loads to the land where sorrows are unknown, while we remain to bear alone the burdens which lie aforetime shared with us. It is possible to be glad—with a painful kind of gladness—that for him has coma the end of physical agony and the sleep which follows life’s fitful fever.

There are other sorrows which make us old before our time —the endless trials and disappointments which fill us with anxiety and aro so discouraging that we often wonder what there is in life that wo should cling to it so tenaciously. Wo feel like men in a boat rowing against the current, who make no headway, however eagerly they may bend to the oars. 1 c is concerning these class of sorrows that wo need counsel and an encouraging word if ono can be found. For example, this man began life with high hopes, and as the years went by theso hopes withered and fell ono by ono until nothing is left but the dull monotony of drudgery. The bells which merrily chimed in other days havo been tolling for many a year now. Another man dreamed of a competency for himself and his dear ones, but the profits of business failed him. He would give his family everything, but what lie calls fate is against him, and ho can give them nothing. Instill another homo some large-hearted boy has gone wrong, and, like an ocean steamer under full headway in a fog, may reach the wrecking rocks at any moment. la still another homo the daughter with misplaced affection is about to take the risks of an unfortunate marriage, the results of which

sho cannot bo made to seo, though others see them only too plainly. Those aro among the most serious events of life, and they aro happening somewhere every day. There are few homes in which some shadow of this kind has not fallen, and they show us that death is not the only thing, nor yot the chief thing, to be dreaded.

Why wo must suffer in this way}l cannot tell. I simply repeat the linos, “ God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform.” But it is certain that He never sent a cloud that had not a silver lining, and in Ilia all-including provideueo no event can occur which has not attached to it some measure of hope and cheer.

If this life were all, then, it must be confessed, our lot would be a hard one. A sadder or more desperate plight than man would find himsolf in wore another life denied cannot well be conceived, it may seem to be a grim sort of argument, but it is nevertheless fair to say that our sufferings in this world make the necessity of another world absolutely imperative. Looked at from tho lowest standpoint, this life, with its inexorable griefs, its bent shoulders, its bleeding hearts and eyes bedimmed, demands a future in the name of ordinary justice. Looked at from the highest standpoint, this life is a period of discipline to prepare us for a nobler state of existence; but what should be said—except that the whole universe is a delusion and a sham —if, having toilfully prepared ourselves, we ho told that there is no.king to he prepared for ? That argument for immortality is like the cry of innocence condemned to death by a capricious tyrant and demanding that the sentence shall he set aside. It is irrefutable and can no more bo broken than a piece of chilled steel. The woes, tho groans, and sorrowing homes of this earth—aye, and lives that havo been wrecked by overcoming temptation, and the very crimes that have been committed cry out for immortality, ill which wrongs may he righted and peace and rest will fellow hardship and struggle. You may find good cheer in this advice—to do t ie best your circumstances allow, to hoar what comes as bravely as you can, to keep your heart pure and your hands clean, no matter what betides, ami to do all this in the strength of that wonderful Being who said “ Come unto Me, allyo that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Youi relations to God are not to bo shaken by the fact that you do not understand llis providence. On the contrary, when the path is rugged and the night is dark—and verv dark, indeed, it; is

faith, for it is tho only thing under tho stars that can give you help. There are bright days ahead —if not here, then there — and once on the other side we shall see plainly what is now hidden.