SUNDAY READING.

Otago Witness, Issue 3097, 23 July 1913, Page 80

SUNDAY READING.

THE DEMAND FOR A FITTING. SAINT. (By Rev. James L. Gordon. D.D., of Winnipeg, Canada.) “Yo that love the Lord hate evil.” Psahus xcvii, y . 10. To-day we have many kinds of Christians. Each generation produces a new type. These types are finally arranged and classified. Each class is dignified with a distinguishing title or appellation. And thus we have, ever and anon, the growth, evolution, and development of a new brand of Christian character. Each, new class necessitates a label, and therefor we read of Christians who are “cultured,” “well-to-do,” “consecrated,” “amiable,” “well-dressed,” “educated,” respectable,” “wealthy,” “beautiful,” “lovely,” and so forth. Just at the present time there seems to be a d emand for a new brand—namely, “the fighting Christian,” or “the fighting saint.” We are looking for the saint who is “on the warpath” for pinity and for righteousness. We are in search of the Christian who is disposed to “carry the war into Africa.” We should be delighted to find some heroic soul worthy of the “championship of the world” in the manifestation of an aggressive Christianity. We are honestly hungering for the believer whose belief is of such a quality as to lead him to “throw down the gauntlet” and “take up the cudgels” for the pressing reforms demanded in our civic ana municipal affairs; for the civilisation of the future will centre in the city, and that which is enthroned in the city will give quality and character to'the hills and valleys which lie midway between city and town, village and hamlet. The banner of the Church has two sides. Christianity is a proclamation and a protest. Religion exists for a twofold purpose—namely, to enthrone the right and dethrone the wrong. Jesus Christ intended that the Church should be a militant force as well as a persuasive influence—“l came not to send peace, but a sword.” The vrcat souls of history, almost without exception, have been fighters. David was a “man of war.” Moses “slew the Egyptian.” Joshua “left not one of them alive.” Caleb, inspired by a possible conquest, exclaimed, ,r We are well able to do it.” Every one of the prophets carried “a big stick,” and Paul, the founder of a new civilisation, exclaimed, “Put on the whole armour of God.” The first recorded appearance of Moses on the platform of human history is recorded in these words: “He slew the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.” He not only had “sand” in his own character, but he had enough left over to accommodate the Egyptian. —What is the Fighting Spirit?— What is the fighting spirit? Is it the quarrelsome spirit? Is it the spirit of the man who is always spoiling for a fight? Is it the spirit of the man with a chip on his shoulder 1 Not so. It is the spirit of the man who will stake everything, even life itself, for a great conviction, or for a great cause. The only thing you really “believe” is the thing which you are willing to stand for, light for, ba*ttle for, and suffer for. I am tired of hearing men say, “I favour this,’’ or “I favour that.” Almost every man “favours” something. The smallest creature perambulating on two feet can tell vou what lie “favours.” I have one question to ask of every person who professes to walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ: —“What are you willing to stand for?” These are the lows of the battle. First, have a conviction! Second, take a stand! Third, have a hand in the fight! ' "The splendid period in the life of every nation has been its fighting period. Israel and the emancipation, Greece and the memories of Marathon, Scotland and the Covenanters, England, and the Commonwealth, France and the Revolution, the United States and the War of the Rebellion. Nations have been benefited and blessed for ages by being thrown into the white heat of a great passion. The great monuments of our Christian civilisation stand in unfading glory on the sacred soil where 10.000 battles have been fought for truth and righteousness. What star of glory have you in the diadem of a Chr stian civilisation which yon did not battle for? You cannot find a Christian institution worthy of the name which has not been purchased by blood —a Christian home, a quiet Sabbath, an open Bible, a free Church, a sovereign State, and an unfettered press. The right to think and the right to be heard —these are privileges which have been bought by a thousand Calvaries. Moral warfare makes men hard, but superficial jteace makes men soft. Christian conflict in its chrystallisation means character. Heaven save us from a softhanded, flabby-cheeked, brittle-boned, weak-eyed, thin-skinned spineless Christianity. The Church always wins when she has her armour on. When John the Baptist exclaimed, “Oh, generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come.' 1 the whole generation of vipers turned out and turned in to hear the prophet who knew n viper when he saw it, and dared to call it by the right name. For every dare-devil there ought to he a dare-saint, and for every sinner as daring as Satan there ought to be a saint as audacious as the Son of God. The demand to-dav is for the fighting saint Fighting editors who will not sell out to a political party. Fighting preachers who do not shiver in the presence of a millionaire. Fight— Inrr college professors who would rather think than wear fetters of gold. Fighting poets who will not sing for silver. Fighting artists who will not paint for lucre. I have no uso even for a member of the Salvation Army who is not willing to fight.

—Things Worth Fighting For. —

What we need to-day is real fighting, and not a series of sham battles. Some things are not worth fighting for. The Crusades were great but useless, because the Onifgtders fought for an empty sepulchre. Certain things are not worth fighting for. Whether a man has been ordained or is unordained; whether a preacher wears a coat or a gown; whether a building is called a church or a chapel; whether a convert is sprinkled or immersed; whether a sermon ie textual or topical; whether a rector uses a prayer book or a requisition blank when approaching the throne of grace. Thank God, we are through with all this. There are real battles to be fought, and, therefore, I am looking for a fighting saint. I am through with preaching sermons on “How to Control the Temper. ’ The modern Christian has no temper worth preaching about. He goes off into a spasm of wrath over the loss of a collar button, and remains calm and unmoved amid the slaughter of the innocents. The trouble is that the Church has been satisfied to expend its wrath on little sins, while great crimes have fostered in the body politic. We have been killing flies in the jungle while savage tigers have held the road. We have been playing with the tin horn of childishness while the megaphone oi truth has been permitted to rust and corrode. Should a Christian smoke? Should a deaconess dance? Should an elder play cards? Should a class leader go to the theatre?. These are “manufactured sins,’ right for some and wrong for others, according to the dictates of conscience in the individual soul. Come. Come. Strike hands with me for the extermination of one great evil in the community, and I will not bother you about your little sins. If you were fighting more you would be playing less. Talk about “a moral equivalent for war”—rny friend, you can develop more backbone in three months by faemp the evils which exist in the community where you reside than by serving in an army for the whole period of the Boer war. Men are dying for excitement, but what is inure exciting than a fight? A telegram was received in London some time ago which read as follows: —“A saint has appeared in the valley of the Swats, but the police are after him.” The modern saint, on this side of the planet is not a disturbing element to the unbroken meditations of the average police official. It takes more than one saint of the modern brand to disturb the snug, self-satisfied, self-complacent, easy-going officer of the j law, as we known him in the “open j town*’ districts on the banks of the Red River or in the valley of tlie Assiniboine. I am through, with worrv'"- about the unseen forces of evil in the universe. Even a personal devil at work during the day and sleepless during the night fails to alarm my soul. 1 am persuaded that if i am wise enough and sufficiently courageous to look after the devil I can see, that an unseen God, in His kind providence, will “keep lab” on the devil I cannot see. There are modern devils which need particular attention at the present time Their name is legion— Drink, graft, commercial selfishness, social exclusiveness, religious formalism, personal ease, special interest, and unlawful privilege. John Motley, in his Life of Cromwell, remarks concerning John Pytn, the great Parliamentary leader, that ” he thought it a part of a man’s religion to see that hi* country was well governed.” How out ol tune with present circumstances such a mortal would be in the easy-going Christianity of onr modern civilisation. We have the affirmation of Mr Bryce, the historian, that modern citizenship has failed in Europe and America because of three great evils —indolence, selfishness, and party spirit. The real truth is that the fighting saint has retired to the sleeping car and the well-groomed porter of social | respectability watches over him. Oh, tor the voice of a prophet! Oh, for the | thunder tone* of Carlyle as he exclaims; j “Are there not in this nation men enough I to venture forward and do battle for God’s truth versus the devil’s falsehood?” —The Measure of a Great Soul.— By the heroes of the arena, by the m arty re of the early Church, by the tragedies of the catacombs, I call you to battle! These were the fighting saint* of history. 1 think 1 know how to measure a great soul. A soul miiot be measured by three things : —First, bv its capacity for a great love; second, by its capacity for a great enthusiasm; third, by it* capacity for a great wrath. A man never appears to j better advantage than when he is the incarnation of a splendid wrath. Remember the words of the Psalmist: “ Ye that love the Lord hate evil.” Wrath ! Splendid wrath I —as when a noted American reformer, looking into the face, of one who had been a base deceiver, exclaimed : “ Sir. I have for you an infinite contempt!” or, for an additional illustration, William E. Gladstone, the iGrand Old Man of modern English history. when some careless friend repeated to him an indecent thing, he replied with indignation, “What, yon call that witty? 1 call it devilish !” Shall we take our stand with that modern prophet, Tolstoy, as lie places a stern title on. one of Ills books in these granite words: “I fcs silent,” or shall our lives simply ado h sad snggestivenes* to the painful lament of Jean Caul Richter : \Ve gjoreo and not an-1 aas'.l-- J■ y Ami iK-vf-r once posse s * orr s otiU ivfor? we die. The demand to-dav is for the fighting faint. Oh, for consecrated carelessness! (Mi, for consecrate! indifference! Oh, for i •onseerated recklessness! Men who don't ■are what men say. Women who don't •are what women say. Preachers who lon’t care what preachers say. Young nen who don't care what the world says >r does or fails to do so long as they are lonscions of the fact that thev are keepng step with the music of heaven and □arching with the heroes of all ages :

Saints of ‘he early dawn of Christ, Sain-te of Imperial Home, Saints of the cloistered Middle Age, Saints of the modern home; Saints of the soft and sunny East, Saints of the frozen seas; Saints of the isles that wave their palms, In the far antipodes. Saints of the mart and busy street*, Saints of the squalid lanes, Saints of the silent solitudes, Of the prairies and the plains: Saints who were wafted to the skies In the torment robe of flame; Saints who have graven on men’s thoughts A monumental name.