THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3215, 27 October 1915, Page 64

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR

No. 113,

By .Duncan Wright, Dunedin

“MY .REDEEMER.’’

Him evermore 1 behold Walking in Galilee Thro’ the cornfield’s waving gold, In hamici or grassy wold, By the shores of the Beautiful Sea He toucheth v the sightless eyes;

Before Him the demons flee; To the dead He sayeth: ‘‘Arise 1

To the living: “Follow Me!’’ And that voice still soundeth on From the centuries that are gone. To the centuries that shall be! Longfellow,

As far back as b.c. we read in the history of Rome that a great earthquake occurred which produced a laige and -deep chasm in the middle of the i orum. The people endeavoured to fill it up with earth, but in vain; and the soothsayers, declared that is could not be filled up unless Rome threw into it the most precious thing she possessed. A young warrior named M. Curtins, in full armour, mounted his warhorse, leaped into the chasm, declaring that Rome had nothing more precious than warlike virtue. The chasm closed over him, and so the city was saved. If a proud Roman may sing of these days of valour and of heroic Curtins, will any fair-minded or reasonable being blame or censure the Christian who sits beneath the Cross of Christ and sings often, and sings loudly : I will sing of my Redeemer, And His heavenly love to me; He from death to life hath brought me Son of God with Him to be. And how can any interested person read the inspired and inspiring words of the grand old saint of long ago, “I know that my Redeemer liveth” without an audible and emphatic, “Thank God” ? I know that my Redeemer lives,— What comfort this sweet sentence gives. He lives. He lives, Who once was dead; He lives, my ever-living Head; He lives, to grant me daily breath, He lives, and 1 shall conquer death. He lives, my mansion to prepare; He lives, to bring me safely there; He lives, all glory to His name; He lives, my Jesus, still the same; Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives, I know that my Redeemer lives. Coming to us from the hoary past — perhaps 1500 years before the Saviour’s appearance on the earth —Job’s message concerning a Redeemer, the living Redeemer, we should, as professed Christians, almost blush for shame that with the clear noonday light of the Gospel we are so half-hearted and halting in our faith and hope concerning the Deity of Jesus Chri-t, concerning trie, resurrection from the dead, and the dazzling glory of the world to come. “My Redeemer !” Glorious doctrine ! Blessed creed! “I am He that liveth and was dead ; and behold I am alive lor evermore. Amen.” Beneath his crushing load of sorrows—the loss of all his wealth, his loved ones, and his friends —Job still claims' Christ as his own personal Redeemer. Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives, I know that my Redeemer lives. “In my flesh 1 shall see Cod; Whom I shall see for myself.” “My eyes shall behold Him, and not another.’’ In the life of Rev. Dr Dale, of Birmingham, we are told how he came to write his book, “The Living Christ. ’ He was writing an Easter sermon, and when halfway through, the thought of the risen Lord broke in upon him as it had never done before. “ ‘Christ is alive !’ I said to myself, ‘Alive !’ and then I paused again; ‘alive.’ Can it be really true ? living as I myself am ? I got up and walked about, repeating ‘Christ is living!’ ‘Christ is living!’ At first it seemed strange and hardly true, but at last it came upon me as a burst of sudden glory; yes, ‘Christ is living!’ It as to me a new discovery. 1 thought that all along I had believed it, but not until that moment did I feel sure about it. I then said : ‘My people shall know it; I shall preach about it again and again until they believe it as I do now.’ ” I will sing of my Redeemer, And His heavenly love to me; Turn your eyes for a few minutes to the following picture : New Orleans, a city in the Southern States of America. r rime, the days of slavery. The auctioneer takes his place arid offers for sale a young girl of pure blood and a highly-sensilive nature. With agony and shame she looks round upon the inquisitive and brutal crowd. She sees no pity; the hot blood mounts to her cheeks till it mingles with the bitter tears as the auctioneer calls for offers from the onlookers. Two course, brutal-looking men are bidding for the girl, and her heart trembles within her as she looks at them. A gentle man of benevolent countenance enters the market, and at a glance takes in the situation. He, too, sees the girl’s mute appeal to God for help. He not only bids, but bids far above ner value, and finally his offer is accepted, and the slave girl is his property. After handing over the roll of notes, the purchaser instructs a boy to bring a blacksmith to strike off the girl’sshackles. Soon the slave stands unshackled. The owner takes her hand; and in the hearing of the onlookers declares ; “I have bought you, and have paid the price; you are free to go to your home, or wnerever you will, never to be a slave again. God bless you.” The poor slave stood for a moment paralysed, then, throwing up her arms and breathing forth her whole soul in a loud cry of gratitude and love, she darted from the market, and followed

her preserver down the street, exclaiming : “lie redeemed me! He redeemed me! I'll lay down my life for him : I'll serve him while 1 have breath, lie redeemed me ! He redeemed me !” Every intelligent reader will appreciate and understand my meaning when I say that this, and every such illustration, is utterly weak and almost valueless when viewed in the light of the Cross of Christ. There was a day in the far away past when our eyes were dim with tears as we read' the story of our blessed Lord’s passion. Alas ! The story becomes a common tale and we cease to weep ! And yet—and yet there are myriads of human beings who are moved and melted by that one sentence “It is finished.’’ And there are at this moment in the church above, and also in the church below, an untold multitude who, with heart and voice sing; “He has redeemed me ! He has redeemed me !’’ “After this I beheld, and 10, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the Throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes and palms in their hands, And cried with a loud voice saying : “Salvation to our God, which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.” “ . . . . saying. Amen, blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen." One of my heroes of long ago was Hay Macdowair Grant, of Arndiily, soldier and Christian gentleman. His motto was “Snow your colours.” In one of his walks he met an aged man carrying a blanket containing tapes, laces, etc., etc. After a kindly greeting, Mr Grant asked the old man if he knew anything of the Lord Jesus Christ as his Friend and Saviour. The reply was, “I hope so.” Just then a handsome carriage passed. Mr Grant, in a bright, happy way, said : “Come, now, don't you think these people in that beautiful carriage are happier than you are, a poor old man, toiling on foot back to your parish ?” Without delay the old traveller replied ; “That depends, sir, whether they have got Christ or not.” “Come, now, my friend, what does this mean? You told me just now that you did not know whether you had got Christ yourself, and now you don’t think these people in the carriage are happier than you unless they have got Christ! If you have Christ you already have the forgiveness of sins, for His Word says so, and it is because you have unbelief in your heart that peace is not there. Now listen. Before we part I wish to give you a shilling ; do you believe me?” “Oh, yes, sir; thank you.” “Stay, stay; you have not got it yet! why "do you believe me ?” “Because you are a gentleman and a Christian.”* Sternly, Mr Grant (soldierlike) then added : “You believe my word, but you dare to doubt my Master’s word when He tells you that the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth you from all sin.” May T ask : Is this old man a representative character and typical of multitudes? Is he? “I hope so” has a sickly sound alongside of “I know.” Too often the soul is in darkness, doubt, and in bondage through unbelief and through the traditions- of men apart from God’s own revealed truth. Surely heaven’s clear light is a thousand times better than earth’s gross darkness. The former enables the soul —even a timid soul —to say, “I know” ; the later, only, “I hope so.” A mind, at perfect peace with Gcd, O what a word is this! A sinner reconciled through blood, This, this indeed is peace. May we, reader and writer, cling tenaciouslv to the Word of God; let all else go, and then we may sing ; So near, so very near to God, I cannot nearer be; For in the person of His Son I am as near as He. Let me repeat : In a time of darkness, trial, and sorrow Cod’s servant exclaimed : “I know that my Redeemer liveth.” If we could only, in these cloudy days, nestle beneath Jehovah’s wings, sweet assurance and light would quietly but assuredly flow into the soul. Except in the sunshine, roses refuse to bloom and scatter a healing fragrance. A cellar, cold, dark, and dank, means decay and death. Let us get into God’s healing sunshine and the inner life will be sweet, vigorous, and full of 'joy and peace. Try to-day the school of free grace. Oh help us. Saviour, from on high, We know®no help but Thee.