September 1931
T h e K i n g ’ s B u s i n e s s
388
in the baby stage and unable to comprehend more than a very little of what a wonderful God our Saviour is. Our Father is leading us from room to room like children in wonderland, telling us such rapturous stories of His na ture and His creative work that we continually exclaim, “How wonderful!” But there are more wonderful things than those of nature—that rebels should be forgiven, prodigals restored, the sons of darkness changed into children of light, Satan driven out before One stronger than he, and an unclean heart made the pure temple of the Holy God—these are far more wonderful than the glories of earth and sky and sea. The marvels in the natural world pale before the star of Bethlehem, the sunset of Calvary, and the radiance of the resurrection morning. And the end is not yet! We shall see greater wonders—soon! The disappointments of our fairest hopes, the over casting of our sunrises, the failures of our politicians, statesmen, and counsellors to effect a permanent and rad ical improvement of man’s nature compel us to pray as never before, “Oh, Lord, come quickly.” Oh, that His church might get to the East window and look for the breaking of the day! Did not the Master assure us that He would soon return? Did He not say, “Surely I come quickly” ? The little while will soon be over. He will come, first, to receive His saints to Him self, and afterward will return with them to the earth. Why are we disconsolate and dismayed? Why should a redeemed soul ever worry over anything? The awful condition of the nations, the return of the Jews to Pal estine, the despair and lawlessness of men, the cries of the church for a more faithful ministry—all these things, like so many minute guns at night, keep the heart awake. Oh, let your eyes flash with the glow of thanksgiving! Be glad and strong, confident and calm! Let your loins be girded and your lamps burning. Through heaven’s spaces you will soon detect the advent of your God. And when He comes, He will break the silence of the ages with the words of majesty and might. Father God, make us patient while we wait. Mrs. Riley with the Lord s we go to press, word is received of the death, at Duluth, Minn., on August 10, of Mrs. W. B. Riley, wife of the internationally known pastor of the First Bap tist Church of Minneapolis, Minn. Those of our readers who know how rich and beautiful was her life will appreciate the loss that Dr. Riley has sustained, and will join with the members of the Bible Institute of Los Angeles in ex tending to him and to his family sincere sympathy. Important Announcement h e fall term of the Bible Institute of Los Angeles will begin October 5. This will allow students al most another month in which to earn money to carry them through the year. In the past, our young people have been compelled to work too many hours in order to pay their expenses. This has interfered with their studies and with their health. Each prospective student should have at least one hundred dollars in sight when school begins. The holiday vacation may be short ened in order to make up for the lost time. Students should work and save during the coming month, so that they will have, if possible, sufficient funds to carry them through the year. According to latest reports, the student body will be much larger than last year.
his countenance.” Many who cry, “God be merciful” never shout, “God be praised.” We come before Him not “in the multitude of his mercies,” but in the multi tude of our complaints. Our feeble song is almost drowned in the clamour of our wailings. Amendment must be gin here, if we would have our labor march to music. We must go into the Lord’s presence and very deliber ately count our blessings. We must tell the story slowly in order that our souls may take it in. We must repeat the story until our hearts glow in the contemplation, until we have changed the “spirit of heaviness” for the “gar ment of praise.” As soon as praise warms up our prayers, eagerness will warm up our service. When our lips are laden with the confession of God’s mercies, our feet will be swift in “the way of his commandments.” We shall do all things without murmurings. Then there is that second thing—“disputings”—the spirit of wrangling. There are some people who appear to be incapable of doing anything without quarreling over it. They turn everything into a controversy. In every proposal, they must be “on the other side.” They love disputings. They waste so much energy over incidentals that they have little ,or no strength left for the essentials. When the real campaign begins, they are already spent; and what applies to individuals applies also to the church. The energy of the sects is leaking away in petty disputings and idle controversy, while the real work of the Lord Jesus Christ is neglected and anaemic. We quarrel over a banner, or the style and color of a uniform, or the priority of the various regiments on the field. We quar rel over the symbols, and we sometimes forget what the symbols represent; and all the time the enemy is rampant, consolidating his forces and usurping the place and func tions of our Lord. There is only one way to stop the un hallowed contention, and that is by a closer and more praiseful walk with God. If all the sects would contem plate “the goodness and mercy of God,” the majority of these disputings would vanish “like cloud spots in the dawn.” The most bitter disputants are those souls who are not restful and sunny in themselves, but who are disturbed and clouded in the dull mood of repining. If only we could get the “murmurings” out of the individual, we should1get the “disputings” but of the church. Wonderful I n th e interests of the Institute, we recently drove over four thousand miles, in California, Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. We covered two thousand miles of paved road, from San Diego to Van couver. High mountains crowned with eternal snow— Mount Shasta, Mount Hood, Mount Rainier, Mount Ba ker—and countless other beauties of nature many times caused us to exclaim, “How wonderful!” The restless old Pacific Ocean was by our side, and we remembered one of the songs of our childhood, Every evening there was a new sunset, and only God can paint a sunset! There were fields of golden grain and orchards and vineyards laden with luscious fruit. As we drove along we completely exhausted our supply of syno nyms for “wonderful.” We were like little children led into a toy shop, with open-eyed wonder and open-mouthed exclamation. But none of these things are wonderful to Him who made them. They are marvelous to us only because we are “The voice of Jehovah comes over the waters; . His voice o’er the vast and deep ocean is heard; The God of all glory is speaking in thunder, How mighty, how awful the voice of the Lord!”
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