My faith refuses to accept the "fall"!
It sees man ever as a child of G.o.d, Growing in wisdom as new realms are trod, Until the Christ in him is One with All.
From this full consciousness my faith is borrowing Light to illuminate Life"s darkest sorrowing, Whatever woes a.s.sail me still I cry: "G.o.d reigns on high!
He doeth all things well."
My faith finds prayer the language of the heart, Which gives us converse with the host unseen; And those who linger in the vales between The Here and Yonder, in these prayers take part.
My dead come near, and say: "Death means not perishing; Cherish us in your thoughts, for by that cherishing Shall severed links be welded by and by."
"G.o.d reigns on high!
Whatever is, is best."
ARROW AND BOW
It is easy to stand in the pulpit, or in the closet to kneel, And say: "G.o.d do this; G.o.d do that! - Make the world better; relieve the sorrows of man; for the sake of Thy Son, Oh, forgive all sin!" Then, having planned out G.o.d"s work, to feel Our duty is done.
It is easy to be religious this way - Easy to pray.
It is harder to stand on the highway, or walk in the crowded mart; And say: "I am He. I am He.
"Mine the world-burden; mine the sorrows of men; mine the Christ-work "To forgive my brother"s sin," and then to live the Christ-part and never to shirk.
It is hard for you and me To be religious this way, Day after day.
But G.o.d is no longer in heaven; we drove Him out with our prayers, Drove Him out with our sermons and creeds, and our endless plaints and despairs.
He came down over the borders, and Christ, too, came along; They are looking the whole world over to see just what is wrong.
G.o.d has grown weary of hearing His praises sung on earth; And Jesus is weary of hearing the story about His birth; And the way to win Their favour, that is surer than any other, Is to join in a song of Brotherhood and praises of one another.
No; G.o.d is no longer in heaven; He has come down on earth to see That nothing is wrong with the world He made; THE WRONG IS IN YOU AND ME.
He meant the earth for a garden-spot, where mill and factory stand; Childhood, he meant for growing-time--but look at the toiling band!
Woman was meant for mother and mate--now look at the slaves of l.u.s.t.
And the good folks shake their heads and say, "We must pray to G.o.d and trust."
G.o.d has a billion books of our prayers unopened upon his shelves, For the things we are begging Him to do, He wants us to do ourselves.
Jehovah, Jesus, and each soul in s.p.a.ce Are one and undividable. Until We see G.o.d shining in each neighbour"s face And find Him in ourselves and hail Him there, What use is prayer?
Let us be still.
How can we love the whole and not each part?
How worship G.o.d, and harbour in the heart Hate of G.o.d"s members--for all men are that.
Too long our souls have sat, Like poor blind beggars at the door of G.o.d.
He never made a beggar--we are kings!
Let us rise up, for it is time we trod The mountain-tops; time that we did the things We have so long asked G.o.d to do.
He waits for you To look deep in your brother"s eyes and see The G.o.d within; To hear you say "Lo, thou art He; Lo, thou art He."
This is the only way to end all sin, The difficult, one way.
A prayer without a deed is an arrow without a bow-string; A deed without a prayer is a bow-string without an arrow.
The heart of a man should be like a quiver full of arrows, And the hand of a man should be like a strong bow strung for action.
The heart of a man should keep his arrows ever ascending, And the hand and the mind of a man should keep at a work unending.
IF WE SHOULD MEET HIM
Now what were the words of Jesus, And what would He pause and say, If we were to meet in home or street The Lord of the world to-day?
Oh, I think He would pause and say, "Go on with your chosen labour; Speak only good of your neighbour; Widen your farms, and lay down your arms, Or dig up the soil with each sabre."
Now what were the answer of Jesus If we should ask for a creed To carry us straight through the wonderful gate When soul from body is freed?
Oh, I think He would give us this creed: "Praise G.o.d, whatever betide you; Cast joy on the lives beside you; Better the earth, by growing in worth, With love as the law to guide you."
Now what were the answer of Jesus If we should ask Him to tell Of the last great goal of the homing soul, Where each of us hopes to dwell.
Oh, I think it is this He would tell: "The soul is the builder--then wake it; The mind is the kingdom--then take it; And thought upon thought let Eden be wrought, For heaven will be what you make it."
FAITH
Let a valiant Faith cross swords with Death, And Death is certain to fall; For the dead arise with joy in their eyes - They were not dead at all.
If this were only a world of chance, Then faith, with its strong white spark Could burn through the sod and fashion a G.o.d, And set Him to shine in the dark.
So in troublesome days, and in shadowy ways, In the dire and difficult time, We must cling, we must cling to our Faith, and bring Our courage to heights sublime.
It is not a matter of hugging a creed That will lift us up to the light, But in keeping our trust that Love is just, And that whatever is, is right.
When the hopes of this world into chaos are hurled, And the devil seems running the earth, When the bad folks stay and the good pa.s.s away, And greed fares better than worth, Oh, that is the hour to trust in the Power That will straighten the tangle out; For death and sorrow are little things, But a terrible thing is doubt.
THE SECRET OF PRAYER
For he who climbs to say his prayer Meets half way the descending Grace.
ELSA BARKER, in British Review.
This is the secret of all prayers That in G.o.d"s sight have worth, They must be uttered from the stairs That wind away from earth; And he who mounts to speak the word, He shall be heard. He shall be heard.
And he who will not leave himself, But stays down with his cares, Or with his thoughts of pride and pelf, Though loud and long his prayers, Beyond earth"s dome of arching skies They shall not rise. They shall not rise.
Oh, ye who seek for strength and power Seek first some quiet spot, And fashion through a silent hour Your stairway, thought by thought; Then climb, and pray to G.o.d on high: He shall reply. He shall reply.
THE ANSWER