VII

RELIGION AS LIFE

"Ye search the Scriptures, because ye think that in them ye have eternal life; and these are they which bear witness of me; and ye will not come to me, that ye may have life."— ST. JOHN V: 39, 40.

T

HE sooner we get at the soul of a text like

this, the better it will be for all of us. The

big realities ask no introduction. Who would think of introducing a sunrise? When the day fades out that the night may come in with all its jewelry of stars, does any one get up and say: "Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to present the orator of this occasion-the eloquent, knowledgeshowing Night?" Surely, the just and holy night would swallow him alive! When did June ever "Please introduce me to the good green say: earth?" Why, June and the sky-pregnant sod seem to have known each other always, from their far-off, antique childhood. Does the Atlantic, ever old and ever young, need an introduction? The ocean prefers to be enjoyed-to be a path for the ships that leave no tracks; to be a liquid face for the sun to kiss; to be a watery street up and down which the nations come and go. No; the truly great re

quires no introduction. All it seeks is a chance to reveal its heart, utter its word, give its life, yield up its love. And to say that this text is truly great is like saying the sun is hot, the wind is cold, the night is dark, the day is bright. We simply play with its words until we cut into its spirit, and allow the two-edged sword of its power to cleave our spiritual joints and marrows in twain. The Master is talking of religion as life. What are some of its obstacles? And what is its everlastingly enriching secret? Why will man carry a tombstone when he may wear wings? Why will he feed upon dust and ashes when he may have the food used at angelic banquetings? These are some of the questions for our consideration.

I

One of the hindrances to a larger realization of the Christian life is: An improper use of the Scriptures. "Ye search the scriptures," said the Master, "because ye think that in them ye have eternal life; and these are they which bear witness of me." Evidently, Christ discerned a serious mistake somewhere. Is the fault, then, with the Scriptures, and does Jesus so imply? By no means. None had so lofty an insight into the divine library as the Mas

ter.

What grandeur, what pity, what pathos, what tragedy, what history, what prophecy, what psalmody, what agony of despair, what symphony of

hope, what deep-down inspirations and high-up trailing glories He beheld therein! The Master knew that the Scriptures were instinct with divine love; that the God who wrote His omnipotence in starletters upon the scrolls of space, wrote His heart in moving compassion upon these pages of inspiration. The Scriptures are humanity's sob of defeat over sin; they are also humanity's assured triumph in the God of marvelous deliverances. They assert that while man bears in his heart the poison of the serpent's fang, he is yet in league with that "bright mastership" of divinity which brings him off more than conqueror. A daisy is the sun's writing in shorthand; a field of whispering corn is the sun's writing in longhand; but both the daisy and the cornfield are the signatures of the same sun. But whose is the signature of the sun? When there was no star, no sun, no day, no night, "in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." And with the advent of humanity, God began to signal to man, to woo his vision from the clods to the Creator of the worlds, to the Father of spirits. As lawgiver, ruler, prophet, teacher, or singer came by turns down the highways of history-each telling his dream, each articulating his hope, each voicing his experience, each expressing his faith-there came into existence these writings known as the Hebrew Scriptures. They need no apology, no defence. Their permanence is in the fact that they were written by God-intoxicated men. Their se

curity, as well as their sublimity, is in the keeping of their Author. The wind of God's breath blows through them. Their title deed to inspiration is their power to inspire. These old Scriptures, bright with the morning glow of eternity, are the best that God could do, with flesh and blood for His instruments.

How, then, had scribes and Pharisees misused them? Just as many a man has since done-by a downright wooden, mechanical, unspiritual interpretation of them. "Ye search the scriptures, because ye think that in them ye have eternal life." What right had they to think that eternal life is in the Scriptures? Eternal life is in the Christ of God, and nowhere else. Before the Scriptures were, God was; before the New Testament was written in words the Saviour of the world wrote out His salvation in letters of blood and deeds of love. The Scriptures are the guideposts to life; the Scriptures are the road; they say: "Behold Him, the Giver, the Imparter of Life Eternal. We are the symbols; He is the reality. Break through the shell of our words and feed upon His very Self, His own nourishing breasts of goodness and beauty." Travelling in the country, you come to a point where several roads intersect. You wish to reach the city yonder in the distance. But you do not know which road to take. Just then you see a man who knows, and you ask: "Which road leads into the city?". He replies: "That one." But as

ye

you journey along the right road, you do not once say: "This road and the city yonder are one and the same." No! The road is the means; the city is the end. You might stop on the road until doomsday and never reach the city. Just so, says our Lord, are the Scriptures. They are the path, the guideposts, the witness to Me. But the Pharisees sat down in the road, killed off all the spiritual greenness on either side, and never got within sight of the glittering spires of the City of Reality. "And will not come to me, that ye may have life." Is not that a misuse of the Scriptures indeed? And any man who reads his Bible, without going beyond the written words to the Saviour of whom they tell, is simply a Pharisee living two thousand years later than his religious ancestors in old Jerusalem. Study your Bible; make it the man of your council; commit it to memory; teach it to others; feed upon it morning, noon, and night. But always remember, because very good people sometimes forget it, that the supreme purpose of the Bible is to bring you into first-hand, heart-to-heart, spirit-to-spirit communion and fellowship with God. Thus you may enjoy unbroken inflows of fresh new wonder, while eternity's ancient fire burns clean and deep in your heart.

A further obstacle to religion as life is the quest after false Messiahs. "I am come in my Father's name, and ye receive me not; if another shall come in his own name, him will ye receive." Man's