1900
Rev. Dr. J. R. Miller says: "Life is a building. It rises slowly, day by day, through the years. Every new lesson we learn lays a block on the edifice which is rising silently within us. Every experience, every touch of another life on ours, every influence that impresses us, every book we read every conversation we have, every act of our commonest days, adds something to the invisible building."
—The Ram's Horn, March 17, 1900, p. 18.
Showing posts with label illustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illustration. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Two Pictures
1902
It is related that two painters each painted a picture to illustrate his conception of rest. The first chose for his scene a still, lone lake among the far-off mountains. The second threw on his canvas a thundering waterfall, with a fragile birch tree bending over the foam. At the fork of the branch almost wet with the cataract's spray, a robin sat on its nest.
Henry Drummond, referring to the two paintings, so unlike in their make-up, said:
"The first was only 'stagnation;' the last was 'rest.' Christ's life was outwardly one of the most troubled lives that was ever lived; tempest and tumult, tumult and tempest, the waves breaking over it all the time, till the worn body was laid in the grave.
"But the inner life was a sea of glass. The great calm was always there. At any moment you might have gone to Him and found rest. And even when His enemies were dogging Him in the streets of Jerusalem He turned to His disciples and offered them, as a last legacy, 'My peace.'"
It is related that two painters each painted a picture to illustrate his conception of rest. The first chose for his scene a still, lone lake among the far-off mountains. The second threw on his canvas a thundering waterfall, with a fragile birch tree bending over the foam. At the fork of the branch almost wet with the cataract's spray, a robin sat on its nest.
Henry Drummond, referring to the two paintings, so unlike in their make-up, said:
"The first was only 'stagnation;' the last was 'rest.' Christ's life was outwardly one of the most troubled lives that was ever lived; tempest and tumult, tumult and tempest, the waves breaking over it all the time, till the worn body was laid in the grave.
"But the inner life was a sea of glass. The great calm was always there. At any moment you might have gone to Him and found rest. And even when His enemies were dogging Him in the streets of Jerusalem He turned to His disciples and offered them, as a last legacy, 'My peace.'"
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Sermonograms
1935
Adversity tries faith; prosperity tries fidelity.
The man who has a right to boast does not have to.
A beauty not explicable is dearer than the beauty which we can see the end of. — Emerson.
The reward of a thing well done is to have done it. — Emerson.
It is much wiser to steer well than to honk your horn.
It takes brains to make money; it takes character to use it right.
Church membership is not an elevator into heaven.
If you hold your religion lightly, you are sure to let it slip.
God never reveals what man can discover.
A pessimist is a person who is seasick during the entire voyage of life.
When it comes to coddling imaginary wrongs, the average person is a faithful nurse.
Even if you are too deaf to hear the preacher, the Church is still a good place for listening to God. — Holmes.
Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.
The less of it they have, the more people seem obsessed with the inclination to speak their mind.
Action unaccompanied by thought is folly, but thought unaccompanied by action is vain.
Unless we can learn the supremacy of spiritual forces, the pall bearers that have carried out dead civilizations wait at our door. — Fosdick.
Don't throw mud; you might miss your mark, and you are sure to get your hands dirty.
Hard work is the yeast that raises the dough.
The duty of the many should not be the task of the few. Many a man saves everything but his soul.
Adversity tries faith; prosperity tries fidelity.
The man who has a right to boast does not have to.
A beauty not explicable is dearer than the beauty which we can see the end of. — Emerson.
The reward of a thing well done is to have done it. — Emerson.
It is much wiser to steer well than to honk your horn.
It takes brains to make money; it takes character to use it right.
Church membership is not an elevator into heaven.
If you hold your religion lightly, you are sure to let it slip.
God never reveals what man can discover.
A pessimist is a person who is seasick during the entire voyage of life.
When it comes to coddling imaginary wrongs, the average person is a faithful nurse.
Even if you are too deaf to hear the preacher, the Church is still a good place for listening to God. — Holmes.
Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.
The less of it they have, the more people seem obsessed with the inclination to speak their mind.
Action unaccompanied by thought is folly, but thought unaccompanied by action is vain.
Unless we can learn the supremacy of spiritual forces, the pall bearers that have carried out dead civilizations wait at our door. — Fosdick.
Don't throw mud; you might miss your mark, and you are sure to get your hands dirty.
Hard work is the yeast that raises the dough.
The duty of the many should not be the task of the few. Many a man saves everything but his soul.
Seven Sentence Sermons
1935
Adversity is the first path to truth. — Byron.
* * *
It is the wit and policy of sin to hate those we have abused. — Davenant.
* * *
Riches that the world bestows,
She can take and I can lose:
But the treasures that are mine
Lie afar beyond her line.
—Isaac Watts.
* * *
When you put on your clothes, remember the labor of the weaver; when you eat your daily bread, think of the hardships of the husbandman. — Chinese Proverbs.
* * *
Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith. — Prov. 15:17.
* * *
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard;
Some do it with a bitter-look,
Some with a flattering word;
The coward does it with a kiss.
The brave man with a sword.
—Oscar Wilde.
* * *
The difference between coarse and refined abuse is the difference between being bruised by a club and wounded by a poisoned arrow. — Johnson.
Adversity is the first path to truth. — Byron.
* * *
It is the wit and policy of sin to hate those we have abused. — Davenant.
* * *
Riches that the world bestows,
She can take and I can lose:
But the treasures that are mine
Lie afar beyond her line.
—Isaac Watts.
* * *
When you put on your clothes, remember the labor of the weaver; when you eat your daily bread, think of the hardships of the husbandman. — Chinese Proverbs.
* * *
Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith. — Prov. 15:17.
* * *
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard;
Some do it with a bitter-look,
Some with a flattering word;
The coward does it with a kiss.
The brave man with a sword.
—Oscar Wilde.
* * *
The difference between coarse and refined abuse is the difference between being bruised by a club and wounded by a poisoned arrow. — Johnson.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
CONFORMING TO THE LOWER.
I asked the secretary of a well-known Christian organization why it was they were changing their button from a good sized, conspicuous to a much smaller one, and he said, "Well, you know such and such an organization uses small buttons, and the boys think people will take our button for theirs when it is smaller because, they look so much alike." That is the great trouble in the world today. Too many are compromising their Christian life and trying to bring it down on a level with worldly things instead of having the worldly things come up to a higher level with them.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
"I Wear the Red"
1900
A convict in the Elmira, New York, Reformatory lay dying. In spite of every inducement offered by the humane regulations of the place, he had remained in the lowest grade, among the uncaring and incorrigible.
Kind attentions were given him in his sickness, but he showed no appreciation of them. Faithful hospital service, religious ministrations, even the occasional gift of a flower from tender-hearted visitors, elicited no sign of gratitude. To the last he continued unresponsive and taciturn, as if surrounded by enemies instead of friends.
Like many other men arrested for evil-doing, he had concealed his early history, and the name with which he had labelled himself gave no clue to his family connections. To the gentle questioning of a clergyman who had been specially requested to talk with him, he only replied, as he had replied to the chaplain:
"No one knows my name, and no one ever will know."
If desire to protect a mother or any living kindred from the pain of his disgrace was the motive of his secrecy, it was his one sign of right feeling. He expressed no contrition, asked for no sympathy. He would die where he had drifted — a shipwrecked soul.
His one miserable response answered every hopeful invitation, "I wear the red!" "I wear the red!" It was the burden of the man's last thoughts, and will be remembered as his last words: "I belong to the red! I wear the red!"
In the Elmira Reformatory an honor system appeals to the inmates, and tests their self-respect. All new arrivals are encouraged to earn by good conduct their release from their first suit — a suit of red. If they respond to this encouragement, they are promoted to a suit of blue. If they win still higher praise, they are allowed to wear citizens' clothes.
The words of the dying convict meant that he was hopelessly stranded among the worst. He wore sin's conventional color; and it was a color that clung. It always clings. But the despair of that unhappy young man could have found its antidote — where all the human race can find it — in humble appeal to him who said, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." — Youth's Companion.
A convict in the Elmira, New York, Reformatory lay dying. In spite of every inducement offered by the humane regulations of the place, he had remained in the lowest grade, among the uncaring and incorrigible.
Kind attentions were given him in his sickness, but he showed no appreciation of them. Faithful hospital service, religious ministrations, even the occasional gift of a flower from tender-hearted visitors, elicited no sign of gratitude. To the last he continued unresponsive and taciturn, as if surrounded by enemies instead of friends.
Like many other men arrested for evil-doing, he had concealed his early history, and the name with which he had labelled himself gave no clue to his family connections. To the gentle questioning of a clergyman who had been specially requested to talk with him, he only replied, as he had replied to the chaplain:
"No one knows my name, and no one ever will know."
If desire to protect a mother or any living kindred from the pain of his disgrace was the motive of his secrecy, it was his one sign of right feeling. He expressed no contrition, asked for no sympathy. He would die where he had drifted — a shipwrecked soul.
His one miserable response answered every hopeful invitation, "I wear the red!" "I wear the red!" It was the burden of the man's last thoughts, and will be remembered as his last words: "I belong to the red! I wear the red!"
In the Elmira Reformatory an honor system appeals to the inmates, and tests their self-respect. All new arrivals are encouraged to earn by good conduct their release from their first suit — a suit of red. If they respond to this encouragement, they are promoted to a suit of blue. If they win still higher praise, they are allowed to wear citizens' clothes.
The words of the dying convict meant that he was hopelessly stranded among the worst. He wore sin's conventional color; and it was a color that clung. It always clings. But the despair of that unhappy young man could have found its antidote — where all the human race can find it — in humble appeal to him who said, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." — Youth's Companion.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Fine Lecture and Views of The Holy Land
1902
Rev. W. P. Reekie, B. A., who lectured in the Nena Street Baptist church on Friday evening on the Holy Land, was greeted by an audience that completely filled the building. The lecture was illustrated by eighty limelight views of scenes witnessed by Mr. Reekie in a journey from Manitoba, to, through, and from the Holy Land two years ago.
In introducing his lecture Mr. Reekie showed some views in the British Isles. As the picture of the late Queen was thrown on the canvas the spontaneous applause testified to the large place she still holds in the hearts of our people. The picture of the King was greeted with the hearty singing of the national anthem. These were followed by views of places made memorable because of their association with the earthly life of the Christ. The views were all that could be desired and any who were so fortunate as to view them will have a better understanding of the record of the Christ as given in the Gospels. The lecture closed with a number of views from the Passion week. The singing of appropriate hymns by the choir as different views were put on the canvas added much to the enjoyment of the evening.
The lecturer was at his best and held the undivided attention of his hearers. His remarks, as he explained the different views, were at times humorous, at times touching and always interesting and instructive. It would be difficult to say too much concerning the merit of the lecture and the high character of the views. If Mr. Reekie visits Winnipeg again we are much mistaken it he does not require a much larger building to hold his audience.
—Manitoba Morning Free Press, Winnipeg, Aug. 11, 1902, p. 11.
Rev. W. P. Reekie, B. A., who lectured in the Nena Street Baptist church on Friday evening on the Holy Land, was greeted by an audience that completely filled the building. The lecture was illustrated by eighty limelight views of scenes witnessed by Mr. Reekie in a journey from Manitoba, to, through, and from the Holy Land two years ago.
In introducing his lecture Mr. Reekie showed some views in the British Isles. As the picture of the late Queen was thrown on the canvas the spontaneous applause testified to the large place she still holds in the hearts of our people. The picture of the King was greeted with the hearty singing of the national anthem. These were followed by views of places made memorable because of their association with the earthly life of the Christ. The views were all that could be desired and any who were so fortunate as to view them will have a better understanding of the record of the Christ as given in the Gospels. The lecture closed with a number of views from the Passion week. The singing of appropriate hymns by the choir as different views were put on the canvas added much to the enjoyment of the evening.
The lecturer was at his best and held the undivided attention of his hearers. His remarks, as he explained the different views, were at times humorous, at times touching and always interesting and instructive. It would be difficult to say too much concerning the merit of the lecture and the high character of the views. If Mr. Reekie visits Winnipeg again we are much mistaken it he does not require a much larger building to hold his audience.
—Manitoba Morning Free Press, Winnipeg, Aug. 11, 1902, p. 11.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Detecting a Culprit
1893
The Rev. Joseph Haven, who preached in Rochester, N. H., during the last quarter of the last century, has been always remembered for his genial spirit and his inexhaustible humor. One story told of him has many parallels, but it is quite as likely to be true in his case as in any.
The boy had been guilty of some grave offense, and yet would not confess it.
"I can tell who did it," said the parson, and accordingly he called together all the boys suspected and explained to them that he had confined a rooster under a kettle in a darkened room. One after another they must pass in and touch the kettle. When the guilty boy touched it, he might expect to hear the rooster crow.
The lads filed in and out again and were made to display their fingers. All but those of one lad were sooty. He, the guilty one, had not ventured to touch the telltale kettle. — Youth's Companion.
The Rev. Joseph Haven, who preached in Rochester, N. H., during the last quarter of the last century, has been always remembered for his genial spirit and his inexhaustible humor. One story told of him has many parallels, but it is quite as likely to be true in his case as in any.
The boy had been guilty of some grave offense, and yet would not confess it.
"I can tell who did it," said the parson, and accordingly he called together all the boys suspected and explained to them that he had confined a rooster under a kettle in a darkened room. One after another they must pass in and touch the kettle. When the guilty boy touched it, he might expect to hear the rooster crow.
The lads filed in and out again and were made to display their fingers. All but those of one lad were sooty. He, the guilty one, had not ventured to touch the telltale kettle. — Youth's Companion.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Rev. Santa Claus Baptizes Child
1914
Rev. Jenkin Lloyd Jones of Lincoln Center, with his flowing beard, is very patriarchal in appearance. The other Sunday Mr. Jones baptized an entire family, from the father and mother down to the six-month-old baby. As is his custom, he presented to each one a souvenir Bible and a lily of the valley. During his ministry he has given away hundreds of these Bibles.
The three-year-old daughter of the newly baptized family was greatly impressed by the gift, and hugged it tightly to her bosom.
"Who was it," someone asked her, "that gave you that nice Bible?"
"Thanta Clauth," lisped the small girl.
"Why, no — don't you know who that was?"
"Thanta Clauth," she repeated with conviction.
"Why, of course," said the questioner, who understood children; "how stupid of me not to have known." — Chicago Inter Ocean.
Rev. Jenkin Lloyd Jones of Lincoln Center, with his flowing beard, is very patriarchal in appearance. The other Sunday Mr. Jones baptized an entire family, from the father and mother down to the six-month-old baby. As is his custom, he presented to each one a souvenir Bible and a lily of the valley. During his ministry he has given away hundreds of these Bibles.
The three-year-old daughter of the newly baptized family was greatly impressed by the gift, and hugged it tightly to her bosom.
"Who was it," someone asked her, "that gave you that nice Bible?"
"Thanta Clauth," lisped the small girl.
"Why, no — don't you know who that was?"
"Thanta Clauth," she repeated with conviction.
"Why, of course," said the questioner, who understood children; "how stupid of me not to have known." — Chicago Inter Ocean.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Sparks from the Anvil — "The Only Sure Cure for Worry"
1894
Bright Sayings from the Columns of the Ram's Horn
Faith in God is the only sure cure for worry.
What a little god some very big people worship.
Doubts are like bats; they can only live in the dark.
St. Paul never carried a stick in which to notch his converts.
No man can give in a way that pleases God without becoming rich.
The devil walks beside the man who goes to church with a long face.
The man who does no praying at home often prays too much in church.
God is not in the religion that is not using both hands to lift up men.
If big sermons could save the world the devil would soon be discouraged.
When a wicked man makes up his mind to do right he is certain of God's help.
Sin may try to hide its head, but it can not cover up its tracks.
The man who tries to deceive others is himself deceived by the devil.
The Pentateuch seems to trouble some men today, but John 3:16 defies a criticism.
Religion has begun to starve whenever it begins to walk with its hands in its pockets.
You can generally tell how much religion a man has by measuring it with his own half-bushel.
Do not fool yourself. If the first man was made with eyes and ears, his Maker can both see and hear.
The man who does no good with his money helps the devil every time he puts a dollar in his pocket.
There would be more success in life if more of us were willing for God to tell us where and how to work.
If you are over seventy years old you are living on an extended note. It may fall due at any moment.
The reason so many Christians are lean in soul is so few of them hunger and thirst after righteousness,
There isn't any use in going into the church to work for the Lord, if you let the devil hold your purse.
Self-denial is about the last thing some people undertake when they start out to be religious.
Bright Sayings from the Columns of the Ram's Horn
Faith in God is the only sure cure for worry.
What a little god some very big people worship.
Doubts are like bats; they can only live in the dark.
St. Paul never carried a stick in which to notch his converts.
No man can give in a way that pleases God without becoming rich.
The devil walks beside the man who goes to church with a long face.
The man who does no praying at home often prays too much in church.
God is not in the religion that is not using both hands to lift up men.
If big sermons could save the world the devil would soon be discouraged.
When a wicked man makes up his mind to do right he is certain of God's help.
Sin may try to hide its head, but it can not cover up its tracks.
The man who tries to deceive others is himself deceived by the devil.
The Pentateuch seems to trouble some men today, but John 3:16 defies a criticism.
Religion has begun to starve whenever it begins to walk with its hands in its pockets.
You can generally tell how much religion a man has by measuring it with his own half-bushel.
Do not fool yourself. If the first man was made with eyes and ears, his Maker can both see and hear.
The man who does no good with his money helps the devil every time he puts a dollar in his pocket.
There would be more success in life if more of us were willing for God to tell us where and how to work.
If you are over seventy years old you are living on an extended note. It may fall due at any moment.
The reason so many Christians are lean in soul is so few of them hunger and thirst after righteousness,
There isn't any use in going into the church to work for the Lord, if you let the devil hold your purse.
Self-denial is about the last thing some people undertake when they start out to be religious.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Boy's Gratitude Was Real
1909
Has Long Cared for Grave of Men Who Been Kind to Him Many Years Ago
Rev. John Henri Sattig, pastor of St Philip's church, Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, tells this beautiful story.
"In Milford, Pa., there is an old graveyard, neglected, weed-grown and unkempt. Of all the mounds in that village of the dead only one is cared for. On that the grass is neatly trimmed, flowers bloom and never a weed appears. The visitor who looks upon this evidence of love and devotion amid so many examples of forgetfulness usually asks whose grave it is, and the sexton answers: 'The man whose body rests there had neither chick nor child. Nearly every day for the six years since the man died a boy comes here to 'tend to the grave. Winter and summer he comes. The lad is the butcher boy. The man was the only human being who ever was kind to the boy.' "
Has Long Cared for Grave of Men Who Been Kind to Him Many Years Ago
Rev. John Henri Sattig, pastor of St Philip's church, Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, tells this beautiful story.
"In Milford, Pa., there is an old graveyard, neglected, weed-grown and unkempt. Of all the mounds in that village of the dead only one is cared for. On that the grass is neatly trimmed, flowers bloom and never a weed appears. The visitor who looks upon this evidence of love and devotion amid so many examples of forgetfulness usually asks whose grave it is, and the sexton answers: 'The man whose body rests there had neither chick nor child. Nearly every day for the six years since the man died a boy comes here to 'tend to the grave. Winter and summer he comes. The lad is the butcher boy. The man was the only human being who ever was kind to the boy.' "
From the Pew — You Make Your Own Heaven or Hell Right Here
1911
By William L. Brownell
The preacher drew largely upon his fertile imagination as he described to his flock the Celestial City, with its streets paved with gold and its alleys even bordered with precious stones. As he expatiated on the richness and splendor of the place he called Heaven, Mr. and Mrs. Bondholder, down in the pew, were pleased, highly pleased, and they said to themselves, "He is a great preacher," we must not lose him. We must raise his salary; his sermons are so sensible, so uplifting, he gives us something pleasant to think about; he is not always talking about the poor and their suffering, our duty and what will happen to us of we do not perform it."
Then the preacher forgot himself for a moment and was transformed into a mere man, a man among men, and he said: "My friends, for many years I have preached to you about a Heaven that was away off somewhere beyond the stars; a place where, no matter how you had lived here, no matter how unfair, how unjust you had been to your fellow men, you would, if at the last moment you repented, enjoy through an endless eternity."
The old preacher paused, leaned heavily on the pulpit for a moment and then continued: "I feel that I shall not preach to you many more sermons and now I want to say to you something which I draw from my heart and not from my creed, with reference to Heaven and your relation to it. I believe that the poor man is not more liable to reach this place, or condition than is the rich man; that every man is making his own Heaven or hell right here and now, a Heaven or hell which he will carry with him across the border; a Heaven or hell created by his own thoughts and his own deeds, and that just as many poor men as rich men are manufacturing hell records which their future life phonographs will grind out and compel them to listen to. If," he said, "any of you people want to enjoy a Heaven in the hereafter, my advice to you is to start one here, otherwise you will be a long, long time in working it up over there.
—Middletown Daily Times-Press, Middletown, NY, Aug. 5, 1911, p. 4.
By William L. Brownell
The preacher drew largely upon his fertile imagination as he described to his flock the Celestial City, with its streets paved with gold and its alleys even bordered with precious stones. As he expatiated on the richness and splendor of the place he called Heaven, Mr. and Mrs. Bondholder, down in the pew, were pleased, highly pleased, and they said to themselves, "He is a great preacher," we must not lose him. We must raise his salary; his sermons are so sensible, so uplifting, he gives us something pleasant to think about; he is not always talking about the poor and their suffering, our duty and what will happen to us of we do not perform it."
Then the preacher forgot himself for a moment and was transformed into a mere man, a man among men, and he said: "My friends, for many years I have preached to you about a Heaven that was away off somewhere beyond the stars; a place where, no matter how you had lived here, no matter how unfair, how unjust you had been to your fellow men, you would, if at the last moment you repented, enjoy through an endless eternity."
The old preacher paused, leaned heavily on the pulpit for a moment and then continued: "I feel that I shall not preach to you many more sermons and now I want to say to you something which I draw from my heart and not from my creed, with reference to Heaven and your relation to it. I believe that the poor man is not more liable to reach this place, or condition than is the rich man; that every man is making his own Heaven or hell right here and now, a Heaven or hell which he will carry with him across the border; a Heaven or hell created by his own thoughts and his own deeds, and that just as many poor men as rich men are manufacturing hell records which their future life phonographs will grind out and compel them to listen to. If," he said, "any of you people want to enjoy a Heaven in the hereafter, my advice to you is to start one here, otherwise you will be a long, long time in working it up over there.
—Middletown Daily Times-Press, Middletown, NY, Aug. 5, 1911, p. 4.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
A Burnt Hen — Saving Her Chicks from the Fire
1915
During a long, dry summer in the northwest of America, a prairie fire suddenly sprang up in a district where there were many settlers; it raged along the country, burning in its course several farm-yards and wooden houses — in some cases the farmer and family being unable to escape.
After the fire had passed over, a relief party rode out from a neighboring town, to see if any one might perchance have escaped the flames and would be requiring relief. Riding past a charred cottage, one of the men saw what appeared to be a black hen sitting on the ground. On going to it, he found that it evidently had been a hen, but was quite dead, the head and back being burned to almost a cinder, but the bird sat in such a striking way, with her wings partly spread out, that he gave her a kick with his foot, when three little chickens ran out.
Bravely the poor mother hen had covered them, in face of the roaring fire; and bravely she had sat still in the midst of the scorching flames, choosing rather to be burned to death than that one of them should perish.
This true story shows us how the Lord, who planted this instinct in the heart of the timid hen, to defend her young in the hour of danger, would bring with great force to our memory His words, as He wept over Jerusalem: "How often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not!" Had the little chickens taken no heed to their mother's cry of "Chick, chick, chick," when she saw the fire coming, or had they said to themselves: "We shall be safer in the farmer's house; see the big strong walls; they can better resist the flames than our poor, weak mother," they would certainly have perished.
During a long, dry summer in the northwest of America, a prairie fire suddenly sprang up in a district where there were many settlers; it raged along the country, burning in its course several farm-yards and wooden houses — in some cases the farmer and family being unable to escape.
After the fire had passed over, a relief party rode out from a neighboring town, to see if any one might perchance have escaped the flames and would be requiring relief. Riding past a charred cottage, one of the men saw what appeared to be a black hen sitting on the ground. On going to it, he found that it evidently had been a hen, but was quite dead, the head and back being burned to almost a cinder, but the bird sat in such a striking way, with her wings partly spread out, that he gave her a kick with his foot, when three little chickens ran out.
Bravely the poor mother hen had covered them, in face of the roaring fire; and bravely she had sat still in the midst of the scorching flames, choosing rather to be burned to death than that one of them should perish.
This true story shows us how the Lord, who planted this instinct in the heart of the timid hen, to defend her young in the hour of danger, would bring with great force to our memory His words, as He wept over Jerusalem: "How often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not!" Had the little chickens taken no heed to their mother's cry of "Chick, chick, chick," when she saw the fire coming, or had they said to themselves: "We shall be safer in the farmer's house; see the big strong walls; they can better resist the flames than our poor, weak mother," they would certainly have perished.
My Passport to Glory
1915
When, in the darkness of the midnight train, the conductor's lamp is seen glimmering from carriage to carriage does he hold it to your face to learn who you are, in order to be satisfied of your right to proceed? No! he lets its light fall on the ticket which you hold out to him, and if that is right, you are right, no matter who you are — rich or poor, rude or noble. So Christ, and Christ alone, is our passport to glory. Never can we say, Lord, look upon me, for I am holy — never; but upon Christ, who is my passport. Unworthy? Most assuredly you are. And, if you live to be the veriest saint, you will be unworthy still. God has chosen to save you. It is not a question of what you deserve, but what Christ deserves. It makes all the difference when, instead of putting your own value upon the work of Christ, and accepting it merely as meeting our need, we learn God's estimate of that work.
"Be not afraid, only believe."
Pastor and His Labor Sermon
It is unfortunate that while very few workingmen reject Jesus Christ as the Son of God, they have thought of him as coming on a purely social or economical mission. True, Christ came to free the slave of labor. But Christ also came to free the slave of sin. Indeed, that was his chief mission.
Christ himself said: "I am come to call sinners to repentance." There is no greater obstacle in the way of solving the labor question than sin. If sin could be eradicated the labor question would be solved. Admitting this, you must see that the preacher who boldly performs his duty by denouncing sin in every form, the sin of both the employer and the employee, is a friend of labor, even though he never preaches a so-called labor sermon. — Rev. Charles Stelzle.
When, in the darkness of the midnight train, the conductor's lamp is seen glimmering from carriage to carriage does he hold it to your face to learn who you are, in order to be satisfied of your right to proceed? No! he lets its light fall on the ticket which you hold out to him, and if that is right, you are right, no matter who you are — rich or poor, rude or noble. So Christ, and Christ alone, is our passport to glory. Never can we say, Lord, look upon me, for I am holy — never; but upon Christ, who is my passport. Unworthy? Most assuredly you are. And, if you live to be the veriest saint, you will be unworthy still. God has chosen to save you. It is not a question of what you deserve, but what Christ deserves. It makes all the difference when, instead of putting your own value upon the work of Christ, and accepting it merely as meeting our need, we learn God's estimate of that work.
"Be not afraid, only believe."
Pastor and His Labor Sermon
It is unfortunate that while very few workingmen reject Jesus Christ as the Son of God, they have thought of him as coming on a purely social or economical mission. True, Christ came to free the slave of labor. But Christ also came to free the slave of sin. Indeed, that was his chief mission.
Christ himself said: "I am come to call sinners to repentance." There is no greater obstacle in the way of solving the labor question than sin. If sin could be eradicated the labor question would be solved. Admitting this, you must see that the preacher who boldly performs his duty by denouncing sin in every form, the sin of both the employer and the employee, is a friend of labor, even though he never preaches a so-called labor sermon. — Rev. Charles Stelzle.
He Died as He Lived
1915
"Begone!" cried a young skeptic to a clergyman; "I want none of your cant," when he showed him the great need of repentance. "I am not going to die, and, if I were, I would die as I have lived."
The physician came, to whom he said, "O tell me I'm not dying; I will not die!" "My poor friend, I cannot speak falsely to you; your soul will, ere long, be with your God." "My God!" he said. "I have no God save the world; I have stifled conviction, I have fought against God. I have resisted my mother's pleadings; and now you tell me that I must die. Do you know," he added in an awful whisper, "all that means? If I die today I shall go to hell! Take it back; tell me I'm not going to die. Father," he said," 'twas you who taught me this, you who led me on in this way; and now you say I'm going to die Stand back!" he shrieked; "I will not die!"
And a torrent of invective issued from his fever-parched lips, so terrible in their madness that it seemed like a wail from the sea of woe. No wonder the poor mother was borne, fainting from the room, and the father's brow was corrugated, while great drops of agony rested there. Oh, that infidel father! How must his heart have bled in that dreadful hour, when, in the midst of dire cursings, his gifted son fell back a corpse!
"Begone!" cried a young skeptic to a clergyman; "I want none of your cant," when he showed him the great need of repentance. "I am not going to die, and, if I were, I would die as I have lived."
The physician came, to whom he said, "O tell me I'm not dying; I will not die!" "My poor friend, I cannot speak falsely to you; your soul will, ere long, be with your God." "My God!" he said. "I have no God save the world; I have stifled conviction, I have fought against God. I have resisted my mother's pleadings; and now you tell me that I must die. Do you know," he added in an awful whisper, "all that means? If I die today I shall go to hell! Take it back; tell me I'm not going to die. Father," he said," 'twas you who taught me this, you who led me on in this way; and now you say I'm going to die Stand back!" he shrieked; "I will not die!"
And a torrent of invective issued from his fever-parched lips, so terrible in their madness that it seemed like a wail from the sea of woe. No wonder the poor mother was borne, fainting from the room, and the father's brow was corrugated, while great drops of agony rested there. Oh, that infidel father! How must his heart have bled in that dreadful hour, when, in the midst of dire cursings, his gifted son fell back a corpse!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
What If Jesus Should Visit You?
Danville, Virginia, 1929
Rev. Oscar Guinn Delivers Sermon Burton Memorial
"If Jesus should visit you would you be ready to receive Him?" asked Rev. Oscar Guinn, who delivered an inspiring and forceful sermon yesterday morning at Burton Memorial Presbyterian Church on "Being Prepared."
"Sometime ago I read a story about a woman who dreamed that the Master Christ would visit her home the following day," said Rev. Mr. Guinn, "and she began planning immediately for his reception. She devoted herself most assiduously to cleaning and beautifying her home. While thus engaged an old woman came to her door to tell her of her troubles and cares, but she had no time for she was looking for a great and noble guest. And then there came another to her door, a cripple, thin, pale and gray, asked her to let him rest and stay awhile, as he was hungry, faint and weak, but she said she was grieved and sorry that she could not help him today. And then another came — a baby, cold and barefooted and in need of care, but she was so busy housecleaning that she could not help it then. That evening while sitting in a rocker, the woman fell asleep and again dreamed of seeing the Saviour, and when she asked Him why He had not called, he said, 'Three times did I call upon you and craved your pity and care — three times you sent me onward unhelped and uncomforted. The blessing you might have had is lost and your chance to serve is fled.'
"How many times has Jesus called upon you, my friends and you turned Him not away?" asked Rev. Guinn. "How about that poor fellow who was down and out? Oh, how cold and indifferent some of us are to sufferers and unfortunates! "Let us not be so engrossed with the affairs of this world that we have not the time to serve Him."
—The Bee, Danville, Virginia, February 4, 1929, page 2.
Note: The essentials of this sermon illustration are the same as Grandpa Jones' "The Christmas Guest" song. And looking around on the internet, the theme of it goes back at least to Tolstoy.
Rev. Oscar Guinn Delivers Sermon Burton Memorial
"If Jesus should visit you would you be ready to receive Him?" asked Rev. Oscar Guinn, who delivered an inspiring and forceful sermon yesterday morning at Burton Memorial Presbyterian Church on "Being Prepared."
"Sometime ago I read a story about a woman who dreamed that the Master Christ would visit her home the following day," said Rev. Mr. Guinn, "and she began planning immediately for his reception. She devoted herself most assiduously to cleaning and beautifying her home. While thus engaged an old woman came to her door to tell her of her troubles and cares, but she had no time for she was looking for a great and noble guest. And then there came another to her door, a cripple, thin, pale and gray, asked her to let him rest and stay awhile, as he was hungry, faint and weak, but she said she was grieved and sorry that she could not help him today. And then another came — a baby, cold and barefooted and in need of care, but she was so busy housecleaning that she could not help it then. That evening while sitting in a rocker, the woman fell asleep and again dreamed of seeing the Saviour, and when she asked Him why He had not called, he said, 'Three times did I call upon you and craved your pity and care — three times you sent me onward unhelped and uncomforted. The blessing you might have had is lost and your chance to serve is fled.'
"How many times has Jesus called upon you, my friends and you turned Him not away?" asked Rev. Guinn. "How about that poor fellow who was down and out? Oh, how cold and indifferent some of us are to sufferers and unfortunates! "Let us not be so engrossed with the affairs of this world that we have not the time to serve Him."
—The Bee, Danville, Virginia, February 4, 1929, page 2.
Note: The essentials of this sermon illustration are the same as Grandpa Jones' "The Christmas Guest" song. And looking around on the internet, the theme of it goes back at least to Tolstoy.
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