The Changed Standard of Social Dignity

“None might enter into the king’s gate clothed with sackcloth.” — EstHER iv. 2.

HAT is a true picture of the old world. It

is not that the old world was a bad world.

It is not that it was inhumane to the men and women who are clothed in sackcloth. It was quite ready to provide for these; the one restriction was that they should not enter the king’s gate. The old world had places for its poor; but they were places apart. The kings of the earth threw their largesses to the crass multitude from the chariot sweeping by; but the chariot did sweep by. There might be gifts from Belgravia; but there could be no communion. A lazar-house was provided for the leper; but the joyous came not near it. A hospital was provided for the sick; but

they who gave their money gave not their company. The rich might send charities to the needy; but they sent them — they did not bring them. They commissioned their slaves to do the menial thing, to touch the unclean thing; none clothed in sackcloth could enter the king’s gate. Men believed they were honouring the king by not permitting him to touch the sackcloth. Kingliness was deemed the opposite of burdenedness. Royalty must be at rest. Majesty must live in music. Sovereignty must bask in sunshine. Power must be unperturbed by feeling. Supreme will must never be weighted. The crown must be too high for its wearer to touch the cross. And because this was the view held of earthly kinghood, it was the view held of the King of heaven — a man’s heaven is but his earth in the air. The man of that day thought it glorious that a human king should touch no sackcloth; therefore he thought such immunity the glory of the King of Kings. The Ruler of heaven and earth must dwell apart from tears. He must give His angels charge of the needy; He Himself must be curtained from their cry. No cloud must come near Him. No mist must environ Him. No voice of human storm must penetrate the secret of His pavilion. None that wore the sackcloth must unbar the portals of the sacred temple.

I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thou hast taught us a new ideal of royalty — a reversed ideal of royalty. I thank Thee that the mission of the king is, now, to wear the sackcloth of his people. I thank Thee that it is no longer Divine to be tearless, Almighty to be unable to bear clouds. I bless Thee that there has been revealed a higher joy of royalty than being clothed in imperial purple and faring sumptuously every day — the joy of ministering to a people’s pain. No more do we look for Thee in the secret of Thy pavilion. Thou art not there, O Lord. Thou art out in the storm of life where the ship is tossing. Thou art down in the vale of life where the soul is weeping. Thou art treading the plain of life where the hand is struggling. Thou art at Bethany with the bereaved, at Sychar with the seeking, at Tiberias with the toiling, at Sidon with the supplicating, at Bethesda with the broken, at Golgotha with the guilty. Thou comest with clouds; wherever the clouds come, Thou art there. Where the night is, Thou art nigh; where the want is, Thou art waiting. Thou treadest in the path of my tears; Thou sittest by the bed of my sickness. My sackcloth has become my royal symbol — my raiment fit for meeting Thee. None can enter Thy gate who is not clothed in sackcloth. There stand the poor in spirit, the meek, the thirsting! There stand the mourners for the past and the hungering for the future! There stand the labouring and the laden, the restless and the homeless, the footsore and the weary! Humility is the wing that soars to Thee; lowliness is the garb we wear for Thee; conscious guilt is the flower wherewith we adorn for Thee. It is the recognition of our own rags that is the warrant for our coming; therefore it is that we enter Thy gates with praise.