SUNDAY READING

Taranaki Daily News, 29 July 1916, Page 10

SUNDAY READING

THE APPEAL OF PAIN. KKRMOX* PREACHED BY REV. A. H. COLVILLE, M.A., AT ST. MARY'S CHL'RCH, XEW PLYMOUTH. ''Now is my soul troubled, and what shall 1 say? Father save me from this hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour, Father glorify Thy name."— St. .John xii., -11, 28. This prayer of our Lord is a wonderful revelation of the progress of the human soul under hard anil bitter circumstances. It represents three stages in thd development of man, three stages in his attitude towards pain and death and loss. What of the first of these? Pain is always a problem, always a cause of wonder and question as to what we arc to do with it, what is it's intention—often the stirrer up of doubts concerning the righteousness of God's will, often the agitator persuading men to strike against the claim of Ciod to rule over them, has in these days become still more insistent in the thoughts and lives of men. It cannot be ignored or covered up. In a very special sense it is a modern problem. It always existed, but people didn't worry about it as they do to-day. In Old Testament times, for example, pain was hardly regarded as a problem at all; the only thing that puzzled spiritually-minded thinkers of those days was, Why did it fall on the innocent so often instead of on the guilty? Whenever it seemed clear that all sull'ered alike pain was taken as a matter oi course. It is quite different to-day. i'ain in itself is the problem, no doubt because suffering caused by pain is more keenly felt by man to-day than at any previous period of the world's history, it is probable that the nervous organisation of modern mail lias become more refined and delicate; it is certain that tue quickening oi the imagination produced by education adds (tenfold to pain through anticipation; we are all more susceptible to pain than were our forefathers. And, now with this greater sensibility there lias come upon mi man life a vast torrent of pain that lias swept over 'the world, swept even through quiet homes and sheltered lives and borne thousands and thousands of living creatures along witli it. The battlefields of Europe to-day point the great question, the great "Why" with which man has so often challenged the goodness and wisdom oi God; and we ourselves as we face that great problem,' with perhaps our own personal experience, our own fears, our own anxiety for those we love always in our hearts, are constrained to echo the words of Jesus, "Now is my soul troubled, and '«hat'shall 1 say?" What is the first stage, tue first thought that naturally takes shape in a mail's mind, the first natural cry of the heart when suffering comes near, when the sentence is felt though it be not spoken What is our first impulse? To claim exemption. "Father, save me from this hour." It would be, would it not, a nation's lirst impulse if all the horror of war were realised, "Save me from it"? So, no doubt, in many homes all over the world the same prayer has been made. As the shadow drew nearer, as it became plainer and clearer that that home was not to be spared, that the call to sull'ering was coming, and the hands of the clock were almost on the hour, then was the prayer made,

"SAVE JIE FROM THIS HOUR." Nay, .if but two years ago the .whole world had known, had realised the awful thing that was coming' on it, from one end of the earth to the other, would have risen up the cry, "Save us from this hour." It is a natural cry. (Jod lias shown us in Jesus Christ that lie understands it, that he sympathises with it. We may know that pain is inevitable, just as Jesus knew the cross was inevitable, and yet we make that .prayer. Nay, it marks the tirst stage in our development if only the lirst word of it is true to our souls—"father." For that is the great expression of trust. Filialisin, my triends, is greater than fatalism, inlinitely greater. There is, I know, something grand in that stolid fatalism that grimly accepts pain as something inevitable and bears it with clenched teeth in silence; but there is not set upon fatalism the mark and sign of spiritual progress. On the other hand, to cry, "Father, save me!" is lilialisni; it is to see something beyond the pain, some purpose behind it; it is to see life opening out and not closing up. It is to recognise that though Clod may lead Mis children through dark and dangerous places, it is His will to guide them through, it is the hand of love that is hurting. The word "Father" redeems the prayer from cowardice and sellishness, and lifts it up oil to the high plane of faith and of great expectation. Father, Thy will is a loving will. Jesus made il his own, and out of it came the salvation of the world. May it be so with me- ''Father, save iiie from this hour"—nevertheless "though He slay me, yet will 1 trust Him." And so we come to the second stage when to the anxious, troubled soul tue purpose of (jod begins to be clear, "for this cause came Ito this hour." It la the critical stage in a man's spiritual development when he dimly understands that in a way that he cannot deline or explain behind his sullering a great purpose moves. Think of the sull'eriiig of the world to-day. Why has the world come to this hour? 1C has repeatedly been said that before the war broke out we had been too obsessed witli the horror of pain and too frightened by it. Now it is said we have seen the amazing spectacle of millions of men.

WILLLNU TO ACCEPT THE MOST AWFUL PAIN ior the sake of their country and their country's honor, and when we think of this our own complaining- and grumbling' .so often about little inconveniences anil trilles is shamed into silence. Vve have got a new perspective in which pain laeed and borne under a sense of duty becomes honorable and even beautiful. Will it not make (jod more real to us, religion simpler and more straightforward '! Will not the world learn from the presence of pain and the imminence of death not to set too great a value on this present life, but to think more deeply and more seriously of the greater life beyond'; Is it not true to say, "for this cause came we unto this hour"? My friends, to a great, extent this is true, and yet it is but half the truth, and within it lies a danger against <which we must Ln> <lll our guard. For while our present experience seems to give to pain a new meaning, it may a'bo tend to blunt our sensibilities, and even rob pain of its great appeal. Familiarity with pain certainly cannot breed contempt, but it may breed callousnes. Like Macbeth, we have "'supped full with horrors," and the meal may make us lethargic. Do you remember the thrill

of horror that ran through the country ill the loss of the Titanic- in a time of profound' peace? Compare it with our feelings toMay. The loss of a battleship, the wiping out of a regiment, they have become simply incidents and what seems to matter is not the lives lost, but how far the general situation is affected. I know that this is natural, but it its something against which we must be on guard. When .we shut off the appeal of pain we may be shutting off more than we know, deadening one of the truest and most beautiful instincts of our nature—the sympathy that comes from a quickened imagination. It was not for this cause that we have come to this hour. Our .Master suffered the agony of the cross that He might draw all men unto Ilim; for that cause came the hour of suffering. We have to remember how much our holy religion owes to an initial concern for pain, and that the suffering of Christ have won many hearts for Him. 1 am reminded of the words of a dstinguished critic of Christianity who wished that "Jesus Christ had died comfortably in His bed," and then no one would have bothered about Him, and of an old slum woman whose comment on hearing the story of the crucifixion was, "All, poor man, well let's hope it isn't true." My friends., without the acceptance of the Cross by our Lord, Christianity could never have come into existence. Jt was the pain and shame and suffering that first woke men to the

SPIRITUAL ISSUES AT STAKIO in the sacrifice of Clnist. Surely, my friends, the cause for which we "came unto this hour" is not that we may feel less deeply the suffering of the world and the appeal of pain, but that we may feel it more. Surely, my friends, may feel it more It is surely that in days to come all mankind may be drawn closer together, and that all energies may be bent on decreasing the sum of pain in the world for all living creatures. "Misery," it is said, "makes a man acquainted with strange bedfellows,'' and that is specially true of pain. We get a vision of the wounded of all nations lying side by side, as it were, on a great bed of pain, and the appeal for sympathy and help cuts below all distinction. A Turkish wound is just the same thing as ail English wound; a German widow and a British widow have one thing in common about which there is no question of national difference —their loneliness and their loss, if this appeal of pain is to be in the future—nay, even in the present—a great ministry of reconciliation as well as the strongest motive for preserving the peace of the .world, can we not truly say, "for this cause came we to this hour"'.' And we must remember, too, my friends, that the cause for which Jesus faced the hour of pain and suffering was the salvation of the. world,

TIIE RECONCILING.! oK .MEN TO GOD. II there had been no sin in the world, no rebellion in the heart of man, that hour would never have coine. It is the same in the world to-day. 1 cannot take the view that the war is a punishment for any particular national sin; but without doubt, if men had not forgotten God, if-they had in their hearts accepted Christ and lived for the kingdom of the spirit, and not for the kingdom of materialism., the hour would not have coine, and our hope is that the knowledge of pain that lust for material power and material comfort lias brought upon the world may cause men's hearts to revolt from the brutal rule, of .Mammon and turn their thoughts to God and to His eternal message, of love in Jesus Christ; that each may seek each own but another's good, and that each may win for himself the peace that is from above that enters the heart through tlie mercy and forgiveness of God. "For this cause came 1 to this hour.'' "Father, glorify Thy name." it is the third and last stage which the. soul of man, purified by pain, may reach iu its upward progress towards God. It is the realisation that man's true welfare is and always must be the honor and glory of God. God is not glorified, as an earthly king might be, by tile death or punishment of 11 is enemies, lie is glorified, as a father would be, by the beauty' and sweetness of their lives. Think of this in the world's dark hour; think of it if the hour strikes for you. If then you can raise your will to ilis, He will give you the wonderful consolation —aye, the wonderful blessing—of knowing that you may add that hour to the sum of ilis honor and glory, as it purifies your heart and deepens your faith and draws you closer to llini. So the first natural cry of human weakness becomes by the lifting power of the Holy Spirit the expression of a faith divine. "Now is my £oul troubled, and what shall 1 say? Father save me from this hour. But lor this cause came I to this hour. Father glorify Thy name.''