A Fascinating Work
There is no joy that can be compared with that which rightfully belongs to a true servant of Christ. If men were seeking an experience of joy just from a selfish motive, I would advise an immediate entrance upon some form of Christian work.
Beyond every other experience known to man is the satisfaction which God has given to the one who really preaches the Gospel, in no uncertain way, making no apology for his message, and believing it to be the very word of God and the power of God which is able to save to the uttermost. It is a joy to win any one to Christ, for when we win the lost, ‘we set joy throbbing in three places.
First. In the sinner’s heart. There is nothing like that thrill which comes to the one who yesterday was in the darkness of sin, and to-day is in the clear light of the knowledge of God.
Second. Joy in the workers’ heart. It is actually L-^ beyond the power of human language to describe. There must be great satisfaction in painting a masterpiece and making the canvas live with the features of Jesus Christ, but it is not to be compared with the joy which comes to one in the possession of the knowledge that he has been used of God to bring to those who are lost and ruined by the power of sin the ineffaceable likeness of Jesus Christ.
Third. Joy in the heart of God. There is a text of scripture which we frequently quote as follows: “There is joy among the angels over one sinner that repenteth,” but this is a misquotation and should read, “There is joy in the presence of the angels of God,” and where can this be but in the very heart of God himself? Is it not thrilling to know that we may have a share in a work which fills the heart of the Infinite God with joy?
-While the general work of the minister is so much to be desired, yet I can truthfully say that there is no part of it so thoroughly fascinating as untiring service in the interests of men. But there are certain things that must be remembered if we are to move these special hearers. The message must be personal. Men enjoy being told where they are wrong if the one who is speaking tells them of their errors in the spirit of Jesus Christ. The message must be practical. The idea that some ministers have that the men of the world enjoy scientific and philosophical discussions is nonsense. “When men come to the house of God they come as a rule not to hear the things they have been thinking about all week, not to have discussed a proposition in which they may outrank in knowledge the speaker, but to hear that which has in it the very presence and power of God and breathes of the atmosphere of Heaven. The message must be exceedingly plain. Men never admire a trimmer in anything, least of all do they admire him in the pulpit. In no uncertain way should the representative of Jesus Christ speak concerning the sinfulness of sin.
I was preaching not long ago in Chicago, when the following came to me from one of the men of the city: “I wish I might say something that would encourage you in your good work, and may I not write something that will express the feelings of hundreds of young men in this city? Like many others I am from a dear old Christian home in the country, and when I first came to the city about twenty years ago I abhorred sin, gradually I came to endure it, then embraced. It is with remorse and shame that I think now of the wasted years of dissipation, of the cruel sorrow I caused the dear patient mother, whose hands were so lately folded in death, and whose prayers were constantly ascending to Heaven for me. Oh, sir, tell the young men not to wait until their mothers’ lips have grown cold to tell her that they love her, and that her Savior will be their Savior too. I wish I could warn them from my own sad experience to avoid sin and resist temptation, but sin has made a coward of me. I ask your prayers for more courage and strength.”
If there is a suggestion of a disposition on the part of ministers to give even the appearance of excusing sin or treating it lightly or with indifference, that very fact will alienate from the preachers many of their hearers because they know too well what sin is, and what it can do. If one would be successful in fishing for men, I would earnestly advise that his message be plain and pointed, and that no room be left for any one to imagine that the speaker for a moment fails to recognize the awful foe with which he and the men before him have to deal. The beginnings of sin are so insidious that we cannot speak too plainly even about questionable things.
In a men’s meeting, recently conducted by one of the most successful pastors in Ohio, a converted gambler and ex-saloon keeper made the following statement, which created a profound impression.
He said: “I have been in the saloon business, with a gambling-room attached, for the last four years, and claim to know something about what I am now going to tell you. I do not believe that the gambling den is near so dangerous, nor does it do anything like the same amount of harm as the social card party in the home. I give this as my reason: In the gambling room the windows are closed tight, the curtains are pulled down; everything is conducted secretly for fear of detection, and none but gamblers, as a rule, enter there, while in the parlor all have access to the game, children are permitted to watch it, young people are invited to partake in it. It is made attractive and alluring by giving prizes, serving refreshments and adding high social enjoyments. For my part, I never could see the difference between playing for a piece of silver molded in the shape of money and silver molded in the shape of a cup or a thimble. The principle is the same, and whenever property changes hands over the luck of the cards, no matter how small is the value of the prize, I believe it is gambling. Perhaps you have never thought of it, but where do all the gamblers come from? They are not taught in the gambling dens. A ‘greener,’ unless he is a fool, never enters a gambling hell, because he knows that he will be fleeced out of everything he possesses in less than fifteen minutes. He has learned somewhere else before he sets foot inside of such a place. When he has played in the parlor, in the social game of the home, and has become proficient enough to win prizes among his friends, the next step with him is to seek out the gambling-room, for he has learned and now counts upon his efficiency to hold his own. The saloon men and gamblers chuckle and smile when they read in the papers of the parlor games given by the ladies, for they know that after a while those same men will become the patrons of their business. I say, then, the parlor game is the college where gamblers are made and educated. In the name of God, men, stop this business in your homes. Burn up your decks and wash your hands. The other day I overheard two ladies talking on the street. One said, ‘I am going to have a card party, and am going to the store to buy a pack of cards. Which are the best kind to get?’ The other replied, ‘Get the Angel card. It has an angel on the back.’ Think,” said he, “of dragging the pure angels of heaven into this infernal business!”
After he had taken his seat another converted exgambler arose and said: “I indorse every word which the brother before me has just uttered. I was a gambler. I learned to play cards, not in the saloon, not in my own home, but in the houses of my young friends, who invited me to play with them and taught me how.” A number of men went home from that afternoon meeting and set up a new rule in their families, that never should another game be played in their homes, that their parlors should not become kindergartens for training young gamblers.
It really is an inspiration to preach to men because there is so much in man that appeals to you — his unselfishness, his bigheartedness, his willingness to do for others, the heroic element in him all stir us to our best efifort in his behalf. Not long ago the country was thrilled with the tidings of the narrow escape from destruction of one of our great war vessels. There was a fire on board and it was sweeping down toward the powder magazine, when almost miraculously the vessel was saved. The credit for saving the battle-ship Missouri from destruction and hundreds of her crew from death belongs to a gunner’s mate named ]Ionson. This is the report that came from Pensacola by way of Washington.
When the charge exploded in the battle-ship’s turret, Monson was in the handling-room below. He was getting out more powder from the open magazine. When fire came pouring down the ammunition hoist Monson knew instantly what must be done. It was to shut the magazine, lest the tons of powder in it also explode and sink the ship. If Monson had stayed in the handling-room he would undoubtedly have failed to close the magazine. He would have been killed, as were his comrades there, by the explosion of the powder already taken out of the magazine. His thought and action were instant. He did the thing to be done, and did it in the only way in which it could be done. He jumped into the magazine and pulled the door shut behind him. He did this in the face of certain death by fire if he failed and probable death by water if he succeeded. For he knew that the first thing his comrades elsewhere would do would be to flood the magazine. IMonson was up to his neck in water and nearly dead from suffocation. But he saved the ship and hundreds of her crew.
Gunner’s Mate Monson is a hero of the useful type, the hero of disciplined intelligence, the man who is not only fearless but thinks straight, acts fast, and so meets the requirements of a great emergency, the kind of man who, according to his opportunities, saves a ship or a nation.
It is an awful thing to realize that sin can take one possessed of such a spirit as this, destroy his manhood, weaken his character, blight his reputation and cause him to lose his soul. This fact in itself should stir ministers and Christian workers to the best effort in behalf of the men about them. It is inspiring to know that we have a Gospel which never fails in its power to restore lost manhood, to prevent the destruction of character, to make possible a reputation that shall commend the owner to the favor of men and save the soul for time and for eternity.
Not long ago there came to my notice the story of the great Seaham explosions in the old country. Elderly men still live in the vicinity of this awful tragedy whose memories keep a vivid impression of that direful day and the story of the heroic death of the Christian miners is still willingly told to all who will listen.
The men were working in four gangways, striking out at right angles from a central space, into which they all rushed at the first warning of danger. Then the frightful explosion took place, blocking up each of the outlets with falling stones and timbers, thus cutting off those poor imprisoned men from hope of rescue so completely that it was twelve months before the working party of excavators could reach this death trap.
When at length the dense mass of debris was dug through and cleared away, the miners came upon a gruesome scene. The whole of their missing mates were grouped there, the skeletons on which the clothes hung loosely, each in a sitting posture of perfect composure. The immediate cause of death would be the noxious choke-damp, in which life cannot possibly exist for any length of time. Thomas Cole, the overman, a pronounced and consistent Christian, had evidently been the last to succumb to the fatal vapor. As each of his comrades passed out of life, he had, with singular thoughtfulness, written the name and attached it to the clothes. So, when the remains were reverently and tenderly conveyed to the bank, each mourning family could have the poor comfort of burying its own dead.
There was another use of Thomas Cole’s bit of charcoal, which cast a radiant light over the scene of death. Close to his body was a piece of paper on which was scrawled the words: “We have had a prayer-meeting. Every soul ready for glory. Hallelujah! Thomas Cole.”
Let us try for a moment to realize the scene. In the midst of their work an ominous warning of catastrophe, a sudden rush to the nearest outlet, which was the central square already described, followed by an explosion violent enough to smash down all the supports of the passages and block them with the ruins. For a moment the men, gathered together in a position of comparative safety, would be full of thankfulness that they had escaped mutilation or a crushed-out life, but very quickly they would realize that this inside position, with the long, blocked-up passage between them and the approach of a rescue party, made their case hopeless. Then they would know, as only dying men can know, the full blessing of Christ’s salvation. There would be no time for reasoning, only for a solemn renewal of faith in a living, present Savior, with earnest words of prayer and committal to Him of those who were so soon to be widows and orphans.
We know He did not fail them; we are sure He was there, and that, tenderly as a mother soothes her child in a good night lullaby. He would hush them one by one into the sleep of death. When they waked, it would be to find that they were still with Him, but in the morning of eternal day! This was the explanation of the tranquil attitude, and of Thomas Cole’s written words of final triumph. It is one more grand testimony to the surpassing excel-
2q lence of our holy religion. Man may scoff at the Christian faith; it is exceedingly easy to do that. But let those laugh who win.
There is that in man which causes him to center his affections and interests with enthusiasm and untiring zeal upon whatever is before him as a goal. If he gives himself to sin, it is with terrific abandonment. If he sets out to win the favor of men, he is disposed to accomplish it at any cost. If he has decided upon amassing a fortune, he will toil day and night that his aim may be reached. It is to all such that Jesus Christ speaks when he says, “What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”
Count Leo Tolstoi, in one of his interesting books, tells the story of the legend of Russia in which it was said that in a certain part of Russia a man could have all the land he could measure out from sunrise to sunset, but he must run about it all to justify his claim. He pictures one starting at sunrise and bending every energy running about his desired possession. He sees the waving trees in the distance, and determining they shall be his, he takes them in in his race. He catches a glimpse of the shining river ahead and putting forth renewed effort he says, “that shall be mine,” and he includes it in his circle. When, lifting his eyes to his amazement he finds that the sun has passed the meridian, then bending every energy, he hastens back only to find that he seems to be too far away to reach the place from which he started in time to claim his possession. He runs with the speed of the wind, going faster and faster until at last, with one heroic effort, he reaches the starting place and touches the goal. All that he has encircled is his. He falls upon his face from sheer exhaustion, and when they stoop to pick him up, he is dead. He has gained it all and lost his life.
Is not this a true picture of the efforts constantly being put forth by many men to-day to amass a fortune or to secure honor and is there not danger that the same sad ending will be the result? Because of the intenseness of man’s nature, therefore, and because of the fact that he longs for something on which he may center his affections and consume his zeal, what an inspiration it is to the preacher to know that he may present Christ to all such, and the Savior whose presence is not only able to save from sin’s penalty and sin’s power, but is able to draw out the best that is in man, until with character completely transformed he stands ready for life in its best sense and has made provision not only for time, but for eternity as well.
There is no work in all the world so fascinating as the work in the interest of men, and he who preaches the Gospel is missing almost the best of his ministry if he does not seek to become a fisher of men.