SUNDAY READING.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LV, Issue 14013, 18 September 1909, Page 6

SUNDAY READING.

SERMON preadked ia tk4 W*iteley Memorial aftp* Af to. Rev. J. G. Chapmeßv i I -" DAVID'S DESiRE TO FLY." "Oh that I had wings like a dove I lor then I would fly away and be at „.s t . "—Psalm 6fr-6. David did not want to be an angel when he envied t k* dowe its wiags he wanted to be abU-fo %. And bad he lived in these fJHaf laV«right have purchased a Hying machine Truly ours are wonderful lMSl? fWwiy, but surely man is coming into possession of the estates an 4, djWain,V>ns wjjich God •rave him under tae original charter. You will find tiiat .charter in the first chapter of GetfeS WAe J6th verse. And let them%aTe dominion over the fish of the sea, and ow the fowl of the air, and orer the cattle, and over all the earth." flow magnificent the estate I Man , U*4 »)*«e a long way in claiming his. interwanoe, for he has already conqvered tke earth and engirdled it wfft Mav ßailways. The sea, too, he haa take«.,iK»aseaßi«l of with his steam ships and • oh »«*» e> - ?UJ? U J he has not yet conquered the regions of the air. It is earning, however. And this century w>» **«** the capture by man of tbe domain of the feathered creatures. Ere many years have pawed the favourite means of travel wi be through .the air md air »b»ps will be as common aa^ nwtor pars. But what was behind David's desire to fty? Let ns seV. He is seated twm his palace roof in a meditath? aW. .The scenes of his checkered Wa «2|* W"!» *?? m J The crown is laid ajid* from his silvered hwd. The armtliat-smoto gf «•"* rests upon the paJMpet and he thinks "What ttood has iS Hs glory done him ? «1 him? Might ke> not have been a StShap^n^jfJod^"^ taken him from *k« fk«%'fold, "« ne had never worn wae_

PTJBPLB OIkKINGS.."

t!e brings thWTMrry the possessors away froS tke ""gjJJ* 'gSTtSaing iiia harri* Tie* VWfi*ftrTini wUF'Gf paslike a dove fof"<ll§n would I "7, »W andbeatr-ft." ft*** *^«ir*for wings was the lpnpnaM rest. Rest heart. And rest is jnst a state of equilibrium. JR&miStit* *T Mght m each side of iff^fe be movement n»«V*W>»» V? 1 P^! ntl^ they rest. Balance t|a *eaSHaWw» g elements in human We, PfW* f^&P 1 "' *™ you have a stwfHTrest. Put into one scale all that amm 4WS 8 ' "P. ££? the other scafc the realMjon of those suits from deairts anfM&exL Sysiphus is the clasaVsaOtot^^®*,™ l^,.; because, though ne ■ ptnvnlg ror ever to roll the stomk tofte top of the hill, he never suoWMsv * His hopes are unrealised. *■»*«• *■».*»» open to us of seeking far usst. jftnt : Realise our derires. flapis; I*"""""*. our desires. ,*«sires. First: REALHB OU* DESIRES. This is the lastly! commonly pursued. Men say. '*&*& only do this or get that, I snaiT b».«*«anfcd,*«l rest™" Bot men never do **afi*e all their desires. AndwHfca^diMWWongratified, that is sufficient to disturb the balance in one's Mi. ,£&•&** King Abab's palace garden was a vineyard that belonged, JnVst W man, named Naboth. R MM probably descended from father .to. ami Jar- generations. Ahab saw it. and instantly the desire to possess^ tfewHsi tts heart. He wanted it for a TewtaHe garden. H° offered to buy it, Jbut Naboth refused to sell. AnaVsajd 9 «l iWjU give you a better vineyard." Naboth knew that was an impossibility even, to a king. There could be no better *ineyard than the vineyard of Us fitters, that vineyard was sown witb..hirtory, planted with assoeiatiavs, ttfcmnised and endeared by a thousand precious memories. So Nakatt *esM&sf«Hy declined to sell. Now AiaVJbM f»eh« gardens than Naboth's vineyaM he had wealth, pomp, po«ti«» afcwo^ttpe; bnt because nis SesW for Ifrpotn's riiimyud was unrealised what did he do. "So Ahab lay down upon his bed, tarad •"■? his face and w*U «* ** •remd.V He fretted and pouted h*e ja spoilt child and. made the whole palace miserable. Take another example. The elder son hi the par.We.of & ?*"#%? *"»" was angry Wane* his ..father made such a his at the Prodigal's return. The father said to the elder boy, "Son all that I have is thine"— all. . The homestead, broad. meadows, gram and cattle— all is thine. Was the son happy? No. Why r\ .There was one litife thing that trottlfod him. He said to his father, "Thou never gayest me a kid that I might make merry with my friends." So -11 hi. possessions failed to satisfy Jttasrtofs^a. lather had neglected to give Mm "• tad." One little desire W-*~d <***"*«* fc rest. So yon will never 4jad rest by seeking to realise your desires because your desires, srilL expand with each realisation. Here's a man who says he means to -. „ T . HAKE £5000 and then retire and be at rest ; £5000 will satisfy him. Will it? Let him make that sum, and when he has made it his desire -wfll<h«v» so expanded that he witt wasrt twwjl** «">«" *• The mission«ry^*ed. ftrtlaiian what he would like best in all the world. "I should like/* sftfdMie. "all that mountain to be tobacco ; and the whole of that lake to be Win." ".And if you got them," said the missionary, "is there anything eke yw would like.' "Yes," said- 1& Wami, '*? should like just a little more soat?' And it is that "little more" o| nnrsjjised .dartre that prevent* the kstrtMi beins; restful. Look at the second Ahod. *v RENOUNcWtOW DBHREft If your 'desfce* are nil, their realisation being Si, they Vjfl -balance, and voti ought to know rest. This was what David wanted, '^gMtofJtl had wings like a dove; ftl«WTW«W l' fly away and be at rest! Lot then would I wander far off and wsntoa jn the wilderness." His hope of obtaining rest consisted in doing nothing. and being nothing. He tboHgb* JMt; be might be the possessor otjaat if be got away from all the careslittis kingship and v as alone, wittoj|M)lDjion Mid without desires., -B^Va ifrSptjble *. or the Inunau he^rt^ttSMfenojSMfe all its desires? I am sarjWMMWot. But I am equally certain that we should all be happier beings V we minimised our wnnts and "coveted only 4he best trifts;" if we contented ourselves with less, and made the most of what we have. Life i* ftpe jirtifi«ial, and we aro increasing our wants as we go; mid so we grow jaded and discontented. T,<t us live more natural lives, and we -hall »>e tormonWW with fewer want*. Hut don't think, for a-ineniert thut it is the nna*Wtip»M b»» v , the aimless individual, wfco iFWrffW. It ia not tlir r««st of the dead.lbttnre want, but ii ciilm repose, nn "unruffled peace amid ♦lie (-fasclem nrtivMes of life. And tins no shall never get by renouncing nil our desire*. And this brings us to our l»»t point, tiaW — - - -

REGULATING OUR DESIRES. This was Christ's method. There was much in His life calculated to ereafce unrest, yet no life was more peaceful and free from care. we never read that He was flurried. What was the secret of his peaceful, reposeful lite. It was this: He hadn't a desire that was not regulated according to His Father's will. This was the habit of His soul. 'It is My meat and drink to do My father's will," He said. And in doing that will He was conscious the whole time that His life was in His Father's keeping. Christ said Take My yoke upon you and leap .of Me. for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. We get rest by learning of Christ and living as He lived. The world's method of giving rest is, to give you £1000 a year, a nice house, beautiful grounds, far from the madding crowd. Christ said "Not as the world giveth, give I unto \ou." That is not My way. "Take My yoke upon you." The restful life is not the easeful life, the me without^burdens and yokes. Christ s method of giving us rest is by putting His yoke upon us. Strange as it may seem, it is tcveitheless true, that a n an's own burdens become light as soon as he takes Christ's yoke upon him. And by Christ's yoke is meant His method of life, His service. And you know what that was like. It is summed up in these words: "He bore our griefs • and carried our sorrows. And the Lord's yoke that you and I have to wear to find rest is just the yoke of OTHER PEOPLE'S NEEDS. The burdens of the blind and deaf, the poor and the lame. The burdens of other folk's sorrows. Put them on your shoulders; take My yoke upon you, and instead of weariness you shall find rcbt. Do you catch the meaning? Does it sound mystical and visionary? Then try. it and see for yourselves. You are crushed perhaps with the burden of low spirits. What will you do? Stay at home, nurse your depression, give play to your gloomy imaginings. Will that ease your burden and drive away your low spirits? That is the surest way to increase your burden. But suppose you take Christ's yoke upon you and go out and visit someone who is depressed like •yourself. Let your sympathy flow out to that one and add her burden to your own. Then wend your way homewards and tell me where your depression is. It is gone and you have rest and peace. Rest, through wearing Christ's yoke. Or suppose you have a crushing sorrow. Somftjoved one has been removed. What will yon doP Pull down the blinds, make the house dark, give yourself up- to the bitterness of your heart, refuse to be comforted? And what happens? Why your sorrow is a hundredfold heavier. But suppose you p.o out in the spirit of Christ, wearing His , yoke, and visit some poor soul crushed | with a great grief. Take her cold hands in your hands warm with Christ's sympathy. Take her burden on your shoulders and speak the words of comfort that spontaneously flow from a heart, touched with Christ's sympathy, j Then go home, pull op the blinds and let God's sunny messengers through the window, and tell me where your sorrow is? And you win say, "It is gone, and I have found rest unto my soul." Blessed paradox of God; we lessen oar own burdens by bearing the burdens of others. We find rest by taking Christ's yoke upon us. I ask Thee for a thoughtful love, Through constant watching wise, To meet the glad with joyful smiles And wipe the weeping eyes, And a heart at leisure from itself To soothe and sympathise.