How Can We Know?

Esus had just said, “If ye had known me, ye would have known my Father also: from henceforth ye have known him, and have seen him.” The words bewildered Philip. He could not understand them. “Ye have seen the Father,” Jesus had said. That was just what Philip was longing for — to see the Father. So he interrupted the Master, saying, “Lord, show us the Father.” He wished that Jesus might make the mystery plainer. There are many sincere Christians who have the same desire that Philip expressed. They long for clearer, fuller revealing of God. A writer in a religious paper tells of two girls walking home from their work one evening, talking earnestly together. One of them was overheard saying to the other, “Yes, but why has no one ever seen God?” This was all the gentleman heard, as he stood waiting for his car, but even this single sentence showed what had been the burden of the conversation. Evidently the girls had been talking about the apparent unreality of spiritual things. Why had nobody ever seen God.’ They had heard a great deal about God, his love, his care, his interest in human lives and affairs, and his promises of help and direction, but they had never had even a glimpse of him. How could they know that all they had heard about him was true? How could they be sure that there really is a God? Had anybody ever seen him? How then could they know that the things of the Christian faith and hope were realities?

In a private letter from an earnest Christian the longing takes this form:” For the last month or more I have been drifting away from God and have not been able to drop anchor. The more I read and study the life of Jesus, the farther I seem to drift. I find myself asking the question continually, ‘Are 204

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all these things true? They certainly are beautiful to read about, but are they true? How do we know they are true? ’ “There is nothing wrong in such feeling as this writer expresses. Philip, Christ’s apostle, felt the same yearning. There come times in the life of almost every thoughtful Christian man and woman when such questions arise. “Is there a God who is our Father? Does God really love me? If he does, why must I suffer so?” Christ is not impatient with our questions when we cannot understand. We remember his wonderful gentleness with Thomas when that disciple could not accept the fact of his Master’s resurrection. Jesus was not grieved with Thomas. He dealt with his doubt patiently, he showed him his hands with the nail prints, and thus proved to him that he was indeed risen. He wants us, also, to bring our questions to him, and he will answer them for us and give us joy and peace. It is not surprising, either, if sometimes we cannot understand the mysteries of the Christian faith. All life is full of things too hard

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b£;8£A, OHIO for us to comprehend. Can you tell how on the bush in your garden on which in March are only briars will be in June clusters of glorious roses? Can you tell how the food eaten to-day will be to-morrow in the la.boring man strength for work, in the poet beautiful fancies, in the singer sweet songs? A great botanist said there was mystery enough in a handful of moss to give one a whole lifetime of study. There are really few things anywhere that we can fully understand. How does the eye see? How does the ear hear? How does the nose smell? How can the wireless instrument on a ship in mid-ocean send a message which the operator on the coast receives and reads? We wonder at these things, but we do not doubt them. Why, then, should we question the fact that as a mother, the other night, stood by her sick child when the little one was hovering between life and death, and pleaded with God, her prayer reached the ear of the heavenly Father? Why -should we doubt that God loves us when we believe that our human friends love us? You cannot see [206] fotD Can Wt MotD?

the love in jour friend’s heart. You say the friend is true, patient, kind, that he is a tower of strength to you. You cannot see these quahties in him, but you do not question their existence. Your friend travels abroad, and you cannot be with him to see that he is faithful to you. You do not have anyone to watch him when he is absent; how, then, do you know that he is true.’^ You believe in him. Can you not believe also in God, whom you do not see.^* Is the fact that you cannot understand the divine love any reason for your not believing in it?

We say God does not manifest himself to us, but he does reveal himself far more actually than we think. There is a picture of Augustine and his mother which represents them looking up to heaven with deep longing and great eagerness, as if listening for something. One is saying, “If God would only speak to us!” and the other replies, “Perhaps he is speaking to us now and we do not hear him!”

Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father,” and [ 207 ]

Jesus replied, “Have I been so long time with you, and dost thou not know me, Philip? He that hath seen me hath seen the Father; how sayest thou, Show us the Father?” Phihp thought he had never seen the Father, and Jesus told him he had been seeing the Father in him for three years. What Philip had in mind was some revealing of visible glory, some outshining of majesty and splendor, a transfiguration — that was the way he thought God must appear. When Jesus said, “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father,” he referred to his daily life with his disciples. The very purpose of the Incarnation was to show God to men in a common everyday human life, which they could understand. Jesus was showing God to men when he was patient with their dullness, gentle with their faults, long-suffering and merciful with their sins, compassionate toward their sorrows. We see God continually in the same familiar ways. A writer says that most men are religious when they look upon the faces of their dead babies. The materialism which at other f 208 1 iotp Can Wt Itnotu?

times infects them with doubts of immortality, drops away from them in this holy hour.

“There’s a narrow ridge in the graveyard Woidd scarce stay a child in its race; Bid to me and my thought it is wider Than the star-sown vagues of space.”

People say, “If we could see miracles we would believe.” But it was not miracles to which Jesus referred in his own life when he said he had been revealing the Father all the time he had been with the disciples. He referred to the kindnesses he had shown, and the gentle things he had done continually in his associations with the people in the common life of his everydays.

Have you never seen God.? If you think of God as only burning majesty, shining glory, you will say, “No, I never saw God.” But the splendor of Sinai clouds and flaming fires is not God — God is love. You remember Elijah’s vision on Horeb. A great wind swept through the mountains, but God was not in [209]

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the wind. An earthquake made the hills tremble, but God was not in the earthquake. A fire swept down among the crags, but God was not in the fire. Then came a still, small voice, a sound of gentle stillness breathing through space, and that was God. You have really seen God a thousand times in love., in peace, in goodness. You have seen him in daily providential care, in the sweet things of your home, in sacred friendships, and in countless revealings of goodness. Think how you have been blessed all your life in many ways. Do not call it chance, or luck — there is no such thing. You ask, “Why has no one ever seen God.’^” You were in danger the other day and a mysterious protection sheltered you from harm. You had a great sorrow which you thought you could not possibly endure, and there came a sweet comfort which filled your heart with peace. There was a strange tangle of affairs which seemed about to wreck everything in your life, and it was all straightened out as by invisible hands, in a way you never dreamed of. You had a [210] iotD Can Wt lnott)?

crushing loss which seemed about to overwhelm you, and lo, the loss proved a gain. You were wrongly treated by a pretended friend, and the stars all seemed to have gone out of your sky. To-day you are quietly praising God for it all, for it delivered you from what would have been a terrible misfortune, and gave you instead a true friendship, a rich happiness which fills all your life. You had a painful sickness which shut you away in the darkness for weeks, and you thought it a sore experience. To-day you thank God for it, for you learned new lessons in the darkness. All your years have been full of great deliverances, remarkable guidances, gentle comforts, answered prayers, sweet friendships, divine love and care. Yet you say you have never seen God, and you ask, “How may I know that the beautiful things which the New Testament tells me about Christ are true.?”

How may we learn the reality of spiritual

things.? Only by experience. In one of the

Psalms are these words,” They that know thy

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name will put their trust in thee.” Human friendships are formed in experience. We meet one we have never seen before. Little by little we learn to know him, finding in him qualities which please us, and coming at length to love and trust him as a friend. In the same way only can we learn to know and love God. We read of his goodness, his justice, his truth, his lovingkindness, his faithfulness. But we must come into personal relations with him before we can know that these qualities are in him. We can learn to know him only in experience.

The story of Lady Aberdeen’s conversion to Christ is very suggestive. She was long in doubt — wavering, indecisive, not knowing what to do. In the time of her perplexity she sat one day under a tree in her garden, in deep thought. She had been asking, “How can I know that these things are true.’^ Is Christ real.?” She could not be sure. “Act as if I were,” said a mystic voice, “and you will find that I am.” Nothing could have been more fair or reasonable. She did not [ 212 ] iotw can Wt IttoH)?

stay to ask whether the voice she heard was real and divme, or only an illusion. To her it was the voice of Christ, and he was bidding her try him. “Act as if I were. You do not know whether I am or not. I offer you life, rest, joy, peace; you do not know whether there are such blessings or not. Act as if there were. Test my promises. Try me.” She did, and she was not disappointed.

How do we know that these invisible things are real.^ How do we know that God is real, that there is a God? Some one asked a devout Arab this question. The sun was just setting, pouring its glorious beams in floods over the desert. He answered, “How do I know whether it was a man or a camel that passed my tent last night? I know by the footprints.” Then flinging his arm toward the setting sun, he asked, “Whose footprint is that?” We need not seek proofs that there is a God; the Bible offers none. How do we know the character of God? The Bible does not tell us what it is. When Philip asked, [213] “Lord, show us the Father,” Jesus replied, “He that hath seen me hath seen the Father.” In Jesus Christ, therefore, we see God. He was the highest, fullest revelation that God made of himself. Look at Christ and you will see God.

Let no one think that God wants to hide himself, wants to be only dimly, obscurely seen. He wants his friendship with us to be real and close. He does not want us to walk in darkness, to grope in gloom. He does not want to be unreal to us. He wants us to know him as we know no other friend. He wants prayer to be real to us, to be as real as talk with any human friend, as the child’s talk with its mother. But do we know that these things are real.? “They are very beautiful, but are they true.f “Yes, they are the truest, realest things in the world. How shall we make them real to ourselves.’’ Christ is real, — he is our Saviour, our Master, our Friend. How, then, shall we make him more real to our faith.’* Trust him, love him. Some one asked,” How can I learn to love Christ more?” “Trust [214]

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him more,” was the answer. “How can I trust him more?” “Love him more.” Loving and trusting go together. The more you love him the more will you trust him, and the more will you find in him to love. He will never disappoint you. There is no human friend of whom you can say that. The best, the truest, the most faithful will disappoint you some time, in something. But Christ never has disappointed in the smallest way anyone who has trusted him.

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‘’And is there not in every day —

Earth’s beauty and sweet love’s caress, In health, in books, in childhood’s day — More than enough for happiness f

‘Land though our petty plans fall through,
All noble deeds that have been done,
All noble deeds that we may do,
Shall help the triumph to be won.

i’Our Shepherd watches where we lie;
He guards us if we wake or sleep;
Green pastures spread before the eye;
Still waters in the sunshine sleep.”