BLESS'D BABE -- MAN OF SORROWS
O ever homeless Stranger,
Thus, dearest Friend to me;
An outcast in a manger,
That Thou might'st with us be!
How rightly rose the praises
Of heaven that wondrous night --
When shepherds hid their faces
In brightest angel-light!
Come now, and view that manger --
The Lord of Glory see,
A houseless, homeless Stranger,
In this poor world, for thee.
Oh, strange, yet fit beginning
Of all that life of woe,
In which Thy grace was winning
Poor man his God to know!
Bless'd Babe! who lowly liest
In manger-cradle there;
Descended from the highest,
Our sorrows all to share:
O Love! all thought surpassing!
That Thou should'st with us be:
Nor yet, in triumph passing;
But human infancy!
We cling to Thee in weakness --
The manger and the cross;
We gaze upon Thy meekness,
Through suffering, pain, and loss;
There see the Godhead glory
Shine through that human veil;
And, willing, hear the story
Of Love that's come to heal!
My soul in secret follows
The footsteps of His love;
I trace the Man of Sorrows,
His boundless grace to prove.
A child in growth and stature,
Yet full of wisdom rare:
Sonship, in conscious nature,
His words and ways declare.
Yet still, in meek submission,
His patient path He trod,
To wait His heavenly mission,
Unknown to all but God.
Midst sin, and all corruption,
Where hatred did abound,
Thy path of true perfection
Was Light on all around.
In scorn, neglect, reviling,
Thy patient grace stood fast;
Man's malice unavailing
To move Thy heart to haste.
O'er all, Thy perfect goodness
Rose blessedly Divine;
Poor hearts oppressed with sadness,
Found ever rest in Thine!
The strong man in his armor
Thou mettest in Thy grace;
Did'st spoil the mighty charmer
Of our unhappy race.
Disease, and death, and demon,
All fled before Thy word --
As darkness, the dominion
Of day's returning lord!
Yet, with all grief acquainted,
The Man of Sorrows view,
Unmoved -- by ill untainted --
The path of grace pursue.
In death, obedience yielding
To God His Father's will,
Love still its power is wielding
To meet all human ill.
O Lord! Thy wondrous story
My inmost soul doth move;
I ponder o'er Thy glory --
Thy lonely path of love!
O day of man's dishonor!
When, for Thy love supreme,
He sought to mar Thine honor,
Thy glory turn to shame.
O day of our confusion!
When Satan's darkness lay,
In hatred and delusion,
On ruined nature's way.
Thou soughtest for compassion --
Some heart Thy grief to know,
To watch Thine hour of passion --
For comforters in woe:
No eye was found to pity --
No heart to bear Thy woe;
But shame, and scorn, and spitting --
None cared Thy Name to know.
The pride of careless greatness
Could wash its hands of Thee:
Priests, that should plead for weakness,
Must Thine accusers be!
The love, that bore our burden
On the accursed tree,
Would give the heart its pardon,
And set the sinner free!
Love, that made Thee a mourner
In this sad world of woe,
Made wretched man a scorner
Of grace -- that brought Thee low;
Still in Thee, love's sweet savor
Shone forth in every deed;
And showed God's loving favor
To every soul in need.
I pause: -- for, in Thy vision,
The day is hastening now,
When, for our lost condition,
Thy holy head shall bow;
When, deep to deep still calling,
The waters reach Thy soul,
And -- death and wrath appalling --
Their waves shall o'er Thee roll.
O day of mightiest sorrow,
Day of unfathomed grief;
When Thou should'st taste the horror
Of wrath, without relief:
We worship, when we see Thee
In all Thy sorrowing path;
We long soon to be with Thee.
Who bore for us the wrath!
Come then, expected Saviour;
Thou Man of Sorrows come!
Almighty, blest Deliverer!
And take us to Thee -- home.
-- J. N. Darby.
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WISHING YOU A BLESSED CHRISTMAS
Mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.
-- Spoken by Simeon of Jesus.
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STATESMAN FOR CHRIST
A travelling man came into a hotel to secure a room for the night. Upon being informed that every room in the building had been taken, he was naturally quite perturbed, until a portly gentleman standing nearby kindly offered to share his room with him. The offer was thankfully accepted.
Upon retiring, the portly man knelt and prayed, tenderly mentioning his guest for the night, in his petition. In the morning his host informed him that it was his custom to read a portion of the Word of God, and pray before taking up the responsibilities of the day.
The effect upon the man was moving; a strange feeling came over him; something has been working in his heart all the night. When gently pressed by this stranger to accept the Lord Jesus as his personal Saviour, his resistance went down in a heap. A soul had been won for Christ.
But who is this humble ambassador of Christ, who so strikingly resembles a member of President Wilson's cabinet? When business cards were exchanged before parting, to the guest's amazement he read, "William Jennings Bryan, Secretary of State."
In "Life Of Faith."
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GOD'S HOPE IS IN THE CHILD
By Geoffrey T. Bull
"And the dragon stood before the woman which was ready to be delivered for to devour her child as soon as it was born."
Revelation 12.
God is the God of hope and He alone it is who brings us hope from the Eternal Deep (Unknown). Down all the centuries men have probed and searched the depths of the inner space of their own personality and the outer space of their cosmic environment, but they have not found Him, for "who by searching can find out God?" They have returned from their quest disillusioned and dismayed. They have verified consciously or unconsciously the Biblical definition of hopelessness, which is to be "without God in the world." Men have looked to men, to the knowledgeable and venerable of science, philosophy and religion, yet few are the wise that find Him, save by the light of Heaven's Star. Then, and only then, do they see that in the Babe of Bethlehem the fulness of the Godhead dwells. Here Reason falters but Faith begins to understand.
God's hope is not in the adult, however mature he may appear, but in the child; not in the grown-up world but in the world that is yet to grow; not in the gnarled old oak but in the acorn fresh and green. God's hope is not in our endings but in His beginnings. Not in the old men but in the new men. Not in the full bloom of the fragrant flower but in the seed it sows. Not in the years that are spent but in the years that are yet to be. Not in what I have become but in what I can yet become if God be with me. God's hope is not in Adam, a man complete yet doomed to fall. God's hope is in the Babe, the virgin's seed. No other god has come from the Deep to take up manhood. No other god has taken manhood out and upward into the Deep as God. The Christian faith is the only word in history concerning our origin and destiny. It has therefore the exclusive authority to interpret that mystic interval between.
In the child all the purposes of God lie latent. In the man they know fulfilment. God's hope for a babe is that once a man, the man's heart shall be after God's heart; that the promise in the gift of life might be realized in the destiny of life. God stakes His all in the child. He came to us as a child and He has decreed that we must come to Him as a child. There was no other way for Him to come. Only then could we take Him in our arms and say, "My Salvation." There is no other way for us to come. Only then can He hold us in His arms and say, "My son, give me thine heart." The child is ever the choice of God for the achievements of His purposes. "When Israel was a child," God says, "I loved him."
Turning the pages of His timeless Book one finds as time unfolds, that
-- the child is God's chosen means for the continuance of the race (Genesis 1:28);
-- the child is God's chosen vessel for the advent of the King (Isaiah 9:6);
-- the child is God's chosen lesson for the entrance of the Kingdom (Matthew 18:4);
-- the child is God's chosen allegory for the teaching of the Covenants (Galatians 4:23);
-- the child is God's chosen object for electing grace (Romans 9:11);
-- the child is God's chosen emblem of millennial concord (Isaiah 11:6).
We can say the very counsels of God are sown on earth in the birth of a child. Isaiah in an age of despair grasped this revelation and with supreme confidence of faith announced to all, "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon His shoulder." The hopes of God in Heaven above and on earth beneath are vested wholly in the Child of His choice.
"The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in Thee tonight."
This being so we are bound to believe that the God who sets His whole hope in the Child must surely have a hope for every child. This is certain for He appoints to each an angel. If he holds a sparrow as it dies, does He not cradle an infant, as it is born? He tells us without qualification, "It is not the will of your Father that one of these little ones perish." Again He affirms "of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." There is not a single child consigned to hell. God has greater hopes for every little one. It is only as grown in unbelief that man can come to judgment. Consequently every child becomes a battlefield. We may run our fingers through his hair and lovingly caress his rosy cheeks, but let us remember, though puppies danced in Flanders fields, it was a battlefield for all that. The sweetness of the spring was churned into the blood and mud of war. Thus Satan contends for the child. The State clutches at the child. The religionist indoctrinates the child. In the fertile mind of the child the wheat of God and the tares of the devil are sown. Only God knows what the harvest will be.
The genealogy of the Christ is a certain proof of the importance Satan attaches to the Child. For Satan every child is an unknown quantity and down the centuries Satan feared nothing more than the advent of the Messiah, for the Christ-Child was that Seed whose life the devil would never be able to extinguish. Even though He fall into the ground and die yet in resurrection His triumph and His Seed were sure. He was declared "the Seed of David," the One in whom the Throne of God would be established in the earth. He was declared "the Seed of Abraham," the One in whom all the nations of the earth would be blessed. He was declared "the Seed of the woman," the One who should bruise the serpent's head. In the long line of succession culminating in the Babe born King, time and again Satan sought to strike a mortal blow, and every time it was against the children that he fought. Kill the child! Destroy the Seed! Only thus did he imagine he could break the interlock of destiny. So it was, Pharoah destroyed the baby boys of Israel; Athaliah murdered the seed royal; and Herod slew the innocents. Satan would devour the Man-Child if he could. "I will," said God, addressing the devil, "put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel."
As Satan sought to conquer and subdue the Child, so he seeks to conquer and subdue every child, for God begets a purpose in all the children whom He brings to birth. God rebukes His worshippers for idle words. It is not possible that He should engage in idle deeds. God's hopes are never generalizations. They are always specific. He never creates without reason. There is no being born, independent of the Divine intention. Paul, deeply conscious of His destiny, sees his birth as an act of God, just as his new birth was an act of God. The whole course from the womb to the tomb is for him to be related by faith to the very pleasure of his Creator. "It pleased God," he says, "who separated me from my mother's womb, and called me by His grace, to reveal His Son in me, that I might preach Him amongst the heathen." Satan's hostility to such acts of God in the realm of procreation are evidenced in striking ways in the Scripture. Not only does he seek to slay children but he seeks also to forestall their conception. In this connection it is noteworthy that all the Nazarite children mentioned in the Bible were born of barren women. They are Samson, Samuel and John the Baptist. The destiny of each in their particular period of history was so great, that God had to perform a miracle to break through the satanic dearth instilled in lifeless wombs. Each of these children prior to birth involved God in a committal of Himself to His people. Each was a subject of prophecy and of promise. We cannot over-estimate the spiritual warfare that wages about the birth of a child. It is little wonder that, once born, the conflict proceeds with such intensity. Many a man spends his whole life striving to achieve a postponement of death, and for fear of it, is ever in a state of bondage. It would be good someitmes if instead of thinking always of our death we would ponder the circumstances of our birth. Then would we be more ready to fulfil the longings of the One who gave us life.
In "The Sky Is Red," published by Moody Press, Chicago.
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EVEN WHEN IT RAINS
On Sunday afternoons a warmhearted Christian merchant usually spent some time on the street giving out gospel tracts. Feeling very tired one rainy Sunday afternoon, he stayed home to rest. On the desk lay a bundle of tracts.
He heard a stealthy step. Then the door was pushed open and his eleven-year-old boy came in. Seeing his father there, the boy asked in surprise: "Why, Father, aren't you going out to distribute tracts today?"
"It's raining too hard," he lightly replied.
"Dad, when it's raining, doesn't God save people?"
The merchant was startled at such an awesome question. So he explained: "When it is raining hard there are few people on the street. Moreover, I am very tired, so I'm not going out."
"Shall I go for you?"
"It's not convenient in this rain."
"What does that matter if I wear my rubbers and raincoat?" the child begged.
Then taking silence for consent, he ran out and was back in a moment in his rain clothes. Running excitedly, he called: "Father, I'm ready. Please give me some tracts."
Seeing the lad's eagerness, his father handed him a few, warning him to be careful to return when he was through. In high spirits the boy started out to distribute the tracts. In the down pour the streets were nearly deserted. Only occasionally was he able to dispose of a tract. Darkness was coming on; the rain continued relentlessly. Finally, only the last tract remained in his hand, but there wasn't a person in sight to whom he might give it. He walked another block, but still he was the only one on the lonely street. What was he to do with this last tract?
"There's a way," he thought, "people don't come to me. Why don't I go to them?" With quick steps he approached the nearest house and knocked.
"Who's there?" came a voice within. His heart was thumping, half with fright, half with joy. He waited a moment, but as no one opened the door, he gathered up his courage and knocked again.
"Who's knocking?" He kept it up until the door opened, and there stood an old woman whose distressed face was a sharp contrast to the eager one of the boy on the doorstep. With face wreathed in smiles, he said respectfully: "Lady, pardon me, but I've come specially to bring you the Gospel" He placed the last tract in her hand.
The next Sunday evening the small street chapel was crowded as usual. The merchant was acting as usher, and of course, his young son had come along. After songs and prayer the chairman asked if anyone wanted to testify to the Lord's grace. An old woman with the light of heaven on her face arose and voiced her praise.
"Thank God," she exclaimed, "He sent a little angel to save me. Otherwise, last Sunday night in my loneliness, poverty and utter despair I would have ended it all. It was pouring with rain. I had reached the dregs of human suffering, having lost both husband and son. After a long struggle, I gave way and started to hang myself. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. I made no move, thinking to wait until the person had gone before taking my life. But the knocking continued until I had to open the door. There stood a boy with the face of spring, who gave me a Gospel tract. As I looked at it, I knew that God had not forsaken me. I could not keep back the tears, but confessed my sins and asked for pardon through the blood of Jesus Christ. Praise the Lord; He saved me!"
The lad softly whispered in his father's ear: "She's the one!" Only then did the father know that God had sent his child to find a lost sheep by means of a tract! Even when it rained!
-- Selected.
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THROUGH THE STORM
By C. D. Carter
"They . . . are at their wit's end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still"
(Psalm 107:27-29).
What a wonderful, wonder-working God we have! There is nothing that He cannot do. He has the power to calm every storm that descends upon the children of men.
Naturally we seek to avoid these storms of trouble, but it seems that they are necessary, if we are to fully appreciate the time of calm. God knows that these storms are needed, or He would not permit them to overtake us.
One day a little vessel was wallowing helplessly in the raging Sea of Galilee. For "there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full" (Mark4:37). To these terrified disciples, it evidently looked like the end. "Master, carest thou not that we perish?" they cried.
Of course He cared, but they evidently needed the storm to make them understand and appreciate His care and His power to save. "And He arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, 'Peace, be still'. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm" (Mark 4:39).
To say that His disciples were astonished at this would be putting it mildly. "And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, 'What manner of Man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?' " If anyone had any doubt about Christ being the Son of God, their doubts should have been dispelled that day.
Sometimes a great storm of trouble may sweep down upon us, and before we realize it, we too are "at our wit's end." Do we "cry unto the Lord in our trouble," and look to Him for deliverance; or do we look to someone else?
It is often the case that we turn to Him only after all human resources fail. We must come to an end of ourselves before we really look to Him for deliverance. If we could only learn to come to Him first and rely on His power, we would not have to pass through such straits in reaching the end of human resources.
Has some storm of trouble engulfed your frail bark, dear friend? Don't be discouraged. Look to the Lord Jesus for deliverance! There is no storm too great for Him to handle. "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble" (Psalm 46:1).
He can bring us through the storm, for "He maketh the storm a calm" in our lives when He says, "Peace, be still." And once again we will enjoy that blessed quietness which He alone can bring up. Then "commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him; and He shall bring it to pass" (Psalm 37:5).
"Then are they glad because they be quiet; so He bringeth them unto their desired haven" (Psalm 107:30). Then your sorrow will be turned to joy, and your prayer to praise. It is no wonder that the Psalmist continues, "Oh that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men!" (Psalm 107:31).
From a tract published by Good News Publishers, Westchester, IL
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