T h e K i n g ’ s B u s i n e s s
April 1928
245
In this story the owner o f the vineyard meant God, and the wicked men meant the Jews. God had chosen them for His people,, and given them the land o f Ca naan ; He had taught them His laws, and they had promised to obey Him. When they did not do this He sent His prophets to warn and persuade them. But they had persecuted those prophets and slain them. Then at last God sent His only Son, Jesus. And now they were going to kill Him also, as the wicked men had killed the son o f the owner. Wheri the chief priests and the Phari sees heard this, story, they knew that Jesus' had spoken if about them; and they were angry and wanted to put Him to death, but they feared the people, and let Him alone. In this story we learn that Jesus desires and expects fruit from our lives, and the most precious fruit we can give Him is ourselves and other boys and girls _we may win for Jesus, It is also a warning, for all who do not take Jesus as their Saviour must perish. (Teach M. V .) (Prayer.) The Verge of an Apocalypse Recently the Jewish leader, Israel Zangwill, died. He was called by his people the Voice o f Israel. Among his many writings is a poem entitled “ Blind Children,” which is indeed prophetic of his own race. In it he describes the con tentment o f blind boys and girls happy at their play, with no knowledge in their blindness o f the world’s true beauty. As if in a spirit of understanding and com radeship, he asks, “How would they know or feel They are in darkness?” and then as he visualizes the wonder of possible sight coming to them, he ex claims :
Beyond the Grave Dr. Charles Edward Macartney, in his book “ Beyond the Gravé,” tells the fol lowing : The great Christian apostle may have been granted a fleeting experience o f the life to come, but has such a thing hap pened to anyone else? One o f the best authenticated of claims to such an en trance into life beyond is the celebrated trance o f the Reverend William Tennent. For forty-three years he was pastor of the historic Presbyterian Church o f Free hold, Neyv Jersey, on the battlefield of Monmouth. As a young man, Tennent was prepar ing for his examinations before the Pres bytery of New Brunswick, and intense ap plication had affected his health. He was conversing one morning with his brother when he fainted away and apparently ex pired. After every test o f death had been applied, his body was prepared for burial and the day set for the funeral. The peo ple had assembled for the funeral, when the body suddenly opened its eyes and gave a dreadful groan. After vigorous restoratives had been resorted to, his re suscitation was effected. For many weeks he was in an extremely weakened con dition, but slowly began to mend. He had no recollection for a time o f any trans action previous to his sickness, and had to be taught his letters again as a child. But one day his memory came back to him and his knowledge of the past was that o f any normal man. Although very reluctant to speak o f his experience, he related on several occasions what had happened. In an instant he had found himself in another state of existence un der the direction o f a Superior Being who bade him follow him. Thus conducted, he beheld an ineffable glory and an innum erable company of happy beings in the midst o f this glory. He, too, thrilled to their great joy and besought his con ductor to permit him to join them. But his guide told him that he must return to earth. He heard and obeyed the sen tence with the sorrow o f despair. “ Lord, must I go back?” was his expostulation. In his visit to the heavenly world he saw glorious and happy beings, but no bodily shape or representation in the glo rious appearance. So deep was the im pression made on his spirit that the ravishing sounds o f the music he had heard faded not out o f his ears for the space o f three years.— (Cf. 2 Cor. 12:4.) The Cutting The beauty o f the jewel is in its cut ting. It is also true that the glory of the soul often comes only after the pain of affliction. By the grace o f chastise ment it finds its beauty.
The Cow Path One day through the primeval wood A calf walked home, as good calves should, But made a trail all bent askew, A crooked trail, as all calves do. Since then 200 years have fled, And I infer the calf is dead. But still he left behind his trail, And thereby hangs my moral tale. The trail was taken up next day By a lone dog that passed that way, And then a wise bell-wether sheep Pursued the trail o ’er vale and steep, And drew the flock behind him too, As good bell-wethers always do. And from that day, o’er hill and glade, Through those old woods a path was made, And many men wound in and out, And dodged and turned and bent about, And uttered words o f righteous wrath, Because ’twas such a crooked path; But still they followed—do not laugh— The first migrations o f that calf, And through the winding woodway stalked Because he wabbled when he walked. This forest path became a road Where many a poor horse, with his load, Toiled on beneath the burning sun, And traveled some three miles in one. And thus a century and a half They trod the footsteps o f that calf. The years passed on in swiftfless fleefJ1! The road became a village street, And this, before men were aware, A city’s crowded thoroughfare, And soon the central street was this, O f a renowned metropolis. And men two centuries and a half Trod in the footsteps o f that calf. Each day a hundred thousand rout Followed that zig-zag calf about, And o’er his crooked journey went The traffic o f a continent. A hundred thousand men were led By one calf, near three centuries dead. They followed still this crooked way, And lost 100 years a day; For thus such reverence is lent To well established precedent. A moral lesson this might teach Were I ordained and called to preach. For men are prone to go it blind Along the 'calf paths of the mind, And work away from sun to sun To do what other men have done. They follow in the beaten path And out and in, and forth and back, And still their devious course pursue, To keep the path that others do. —Sara Walter Foss.
“ But—O the miracle! If a Redeemer came, Laid finger on their eyes— One touch and what a world Newborn in loveliness. • “ Spaces o f green and sky, Hulls o f white cloud adrift, Ivy-grown college walls, Shining loved faces. “What a dark world—who knows? Ours to inhabit is!- One touch, and what a strange Glory might burst on us.
What a hid universe! “ Dp we sport carelessly, Blindly upon the verge O f an Apocalypse?”
.The last three lines are sadly true of poor blinded Israel. May their “ unveil ing” come soon!
Faith Cares cannot fret me if my soul be dwell ing In the still air o f faith’s untroubled day; Grief cannot shake me if I walk beside Thee, My hand in thine along the darkening Way.
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