Man’s Premonition of Christmas Bells
‘6 We have seen His star.” — Mart. ii. 2.
HE star was a thing for which Nature had
no use. It served no physical purpose. It was superfluous so far as secular need is concerned; there was no place for it in the merely natural sky. That is the reason the wise men believed it to be supernatural. Its light gave no help to the present world; they said, “It must have a function in some other world.” And this is precisely how we reason in our moments of premonition. We see something very beautiful for which we can find no earthly purpose; and we say, “It must have a purpose elsewhere; we have seen the light of an undawned day.” What, for example, is the mundane use of poetry! Does it help the development of the world! To the business
man it is rather a hindrance; it tends to make him unpractical. To the schoolboy it is a retardation; it makes him dream when he should be studying; you cannot see the beauties of “Paradise Lost” at the same time that you are parsing it. To the dispenser of charity it is a barrier — real sorrow seems so prosaic compared with ideal sorrow. Whence then has it come — seeing that earthly need has not created it! It is one of the grapes of Eschol. It is not an evolution; it is a premonition. For any time-purpose it might be called a useless organ; but its use is coming. It tells us that we are preparing for something ideal — for a Christ who is “fairer than the children of men,” for an “Altogether Lovely,” for a presence “without blemish and without spot”; in poetry “we have seen His star.” Or, what is the temporal use of remorse for an irremediable past! Measured by the time standard, it is a weakening of energy. Great crimes are punished by law, great vices are put down by society; these are really effective pieces of mechanism. But what purpose is to be served by the gnawing at my heart of a poignant pain for a past which has vanished! There is none now; but it is coming. This gnawing pain is useless here, but it will be satisfied by and by — when my evil shall work out good, when my dark deeds shall open God’s door, when the sin that made Christ’s Calvary shall lead up to Olivet. The cry for a reversed past is useless now; but it will be answered in the day when “the wrath of man shall praise” Him; of that day we have seen the star.
I thank thee, O Lord, that there are things in this world which this world does not need. I thank Thee that there are things called unpractical — unusable. It is from these I get my hope; they are my “star.” Other things give me earthly riches — the gold and the frankincense and the myrrh; but the star gives me my Christ. My finest treasures are in this world bound in a napkin. My dreams disqualify me, my stargazing strands me. I seem to be only on the road to a manger — a place where inferior intelligences dwell. So I am, if this world were all. Why hast Thou suffered the boy to see castles in the fire when he ought to be studying his map! Why hast Thou permitted the youth to see stars above his ledger when he ought to be studying his figures! Why hast Thou allowed the maiden to dream of romantic beauties which domestic life will never yield! Why hast Thou caused Matthew to forget the count of his tax-gathering in a vision of loveliness! Why hast Thou made Peter drop his fishing-rod for a call that could bring no bread! Why hast Thou sent Nicodemus a night dream that makes him less successful with the world by day! Oh! it is all the star — the star of Bethlehem! It is because in the great world to which I go these powers disused of earth will be all the vogue. It is to ripen me for Thy riches, to train me for Thy treasures, to fit me for Thy fulness, to leaven me for Thy light. I thank Thee, O Lord, that, amidst the many constellations whose path I can trace, there is revealed to me at moments one orbitless star.