RELIGIOUS. OUR LAY SERMON FOR SUNDAY READING.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1264, 21 May 1896, Page 42

RELIGIOUS.

OUR LAY SERMON FOR SUNDAY READING.

GOD'S SYMPATHY. “ITo will hear their cry, ami will save them.’’—Psalms, exiv., 19. Guo of the most improssivo facts iu connection with Christ is His loneliness. To a, very largo extent ho was isolated from human sympathy. Not even Ilis nearest friends could appreciate either His motives or llis work, and it was therefore impossible to make a confidant of any one. What personal suffering was consequent upon this entire lack of contact, either mental or spiritual, with His kind we shall never know, but certain wo are that ILis only

sources of consolation wore the ministry of angels, who, t imagine, were always visible and always near at hand, and the presenco of the father, of which He was conscious all the time.

There are some epochs in our little lives when in a far away manner wo resemble the Christ in this respect. As a general thing, and with regard to ordinary experiences, wo not only look for but find an abundance of human sympathy. It is gone of the most beneficent of decrees that wo shall not bear our burdens alone. In the emergency friendship is quick to ft’er its services, and the moistened eyes of our neighbours respond to our grief. When there is crape on our door other households are hushed, as though they shared to some extent our allliction, and ready hands aro held out and generous and helpful words are uttered which make us feel that there is a great deed of kindliness iu the world, after all.

And this sympathy is a very marvellous and a t the same time a very precious thing. We never go alone to the churchyard to leave the bedy of a loved one there. It would be a strange thing and unaccountable to go alone on such an errand. We should wonder what it meant, and feel that the grief which had fallen on us had somehow been doubled by the indilfenmco of our friends. It is always a procession that goes to a cemetery. There are many who go with us, and they reverently stand by our side ready to do what may be done for our consolation and comfort.

Neither are we alone when some malady stalks into the lioii.se and lays its iron hand on one of the family. When our hearts quake the same stroke makes other hearts tremble with sympathy. If there are two pianos in a room, you cannot strike the chords on one without awaking responsive vibrations in the other. Heartstrings vibrate even more quickly. What is more natural than to run to the aid of one who is falling, and what is more divine than to make a personal sacrifice in order to carry comfort to some tired soul P It is by such deeds that we are made to feel the brotherhood of the human family, and therefore the fatherhood of God, and it is a gb.rious fact that though we find it sound hues difficult to rejoice in the good fortune of another, since shameful envy blocks the way, it seldom happens that wo k.iito he sorry for another’s misfortune. Jint there are certain experiences which v.o, x- el it necessary to bear alone, and they am doubly severe for that reason. It is impossible to take any one into our confidence, partly because no one can fully appreciate the situation and partly because we are unwilling to communicate the facts. How mailv griefs there are the records of which are only kept in the hieroglyphics of a wrinkled brow, or a dimmed eye, or a faltering step! Not time, but trouble, whitens the hair sometimes, and changes tlie whole outlook upon life, and what that trouble is you must lock up in your heart’s profoimdost vault. Then; aro two kinds of srorrow—that which all the world is free to know and that which you cannot tell. When the sou dies the news spreads itself, but when ho goes wrong you protect him lay keeping silent. That story cannot pass your lips, neither can it be wrung from you. You never needed sympathy more, but the sympathy that is human you cannot have. There are olliei sorrows of a like nature, and they come to young and old alike—sorrows to be kept close and never uttered. They are found everywhere, and if you could lift the wide world’s curtain and see them you would be sorely troubled. How many griofs we suffer alone, and what a strange burden they are ! it is a great comfort however, to know 1 hat what wo cannot find below comes dow u from above laden with a blessing. It is net that we cannot hide the secret from Him, and therefore pray, but (hat we know 1! is safe with Him,and that ilis sympathy j.; perfect. livery door on earlh closed, but the v. iud./v.s toward heaven wide open. Not the ear of the pr.ifetuidest friendship may listen, but we gladly (ell it all to Him. Them are some things winch only God an,] avne.y know, ami religion establishes su hi a :a-l:;J hmsiiip between us and Him that we c wi fee! a friendly arm underneath r.s ami hear with one hearts tin.'voice of d ch< or. The vital religion, practical to ihe idegree, is to the soul what air is to the lungs—a something absolutely necessary to comfort-, contentment, happiness. You can live without the sympathy of your fei I ' ws, and iu the deepest experiences you rather slum that sympathy ; but you cannot live without the sympathy of the Father, nor yet without the watchful care of ilis angels. With a confidence in ri ; m that never wavers, and a faith in the unseen agents whom He sends to your rescue, you not only need fear no danger, but you can also be peaceful and quiet in very troublous times. The Dunedin Presbyterian Synod has decided to erect a Chinese and mission ha!! and a marme for a Chinese missionary in "Walker street, a portion of the city in which Chinese mostly congregate.