The Purity of the Soul's Intention Abounding in Joy

The sacred writers are not oblivious of the stern and sorrowful realities of human life. They have their hand on the fluttering pulse of humanity; they are keenly alive to human hopes and fears, the yearnings and disappointments, the crescendo and diminuendo passages, which climb to ecstasy and descend to despair. No eolian harp is so sensitive to the breath of the air as the Bible to the infinite pathos and dread of men’s innermost thoughts. But to open it

as at hazard, is to come, almost certainly, 77 on some passage which is as joy-making as Milton’s “L’Allegro,” and more.

No lover of our great English speech can afford to be ignorant of the contrasted beauties of the “Il Penseroso” and “L’Allegro.” For the young student of the language in which Addison wrote, Burke harangued, and Milton sang, there is no better exercise than to contrast these two poems, comparing them line by line, and noticing how the same natural or architectural objects produce different emotional effects, according to the standpoint from which they are viewed. The morning light or the evening glow will make ali the difference between gaiety and pensiveness, the light heart or the sad one. And is not this the secret of “rejoicing always.’ The main features of our life may

be dark and sombre, its daily round monotonous, its upward clamber difficult, its progress a hand-to-hand fight — it may seem impossible to rejoice in any one of these, considered in itself. But the aspect of everything is altered when we bring “the Lord” into it. We cannot always rejoice in our circumstances, but we can always rejoice in Him; and we can rejoice in our circumstances when we consider them in the light of His permission, of His tender care, and of the results of His glory, which they are being caused to subserve. We can always rejoice in the Lord, that He is near us — strong, sweet, true — just as the tenant of the almshouse may toddle forth to sun his rheumatic limbs in the genial warmth of early summer, forgetting for a moment the trials and twinges of his lot.

The Psalmists are always calling us to joy; and in this they must reflect the main trend and spirit of the national life of their time. Poets interpret and reflect the spirit of the age in which they live. In the music of the Temple, which resounded with the melody of harp and psalter and instruments of ten strings, the inner heart of Israel found its appropriate expression. Perhaps it was the influence of the sunny air; perhaps of the simple, innocent, natural life of the people; perhaps from the freedom of great wealth on the one hand, or grinding poverty on the other. But certain it is that the Hebrew people must have reached a high standard of religious and natural gleefulness, judging from the exuberance of the Psalter and certain passages of the Prophets. At the end of the Psalter the

organist pulls out all the stops in the organ of Nature, and pours forth a perfect torrent of praise, from the piping melody of a

thrush to the roar of the ocean bass.

“Sing unto the Lord a new song, And His praise in the assembly of the saints, Let Israel rejoice in Him that made him, Let the children of Zion be joyful in their King. Let them praise His name in the dance; Let them sing praises unto Him with the timbrel and harp.”

“Round your faces,” said an old-fashioned Methodist local preacher. I often think of it when I look on the faces of some religious gatherings. The countenances are so expressionless and heavy. Some one in my hearing the other day called them “lumpish.” The word is not classical, and I am not enamoured with it, but it is very

expressive, Christian people, when they F come together in their places of religious meeting, often present an appearance of insufferable gloom or depression. Why is it? Perhaps it is considered respectable, or God-honouring, or more consistent with religion. Years ago our fathers were wont to refer to conversion as “becoming serious.” They would say, ‘So-and-so has become serious.” And it is in keeping with this expression that in some hymn-books, in the version of the Hundredth Psalm, the line

which was originally written —

“Him serve with 7th, His praise forth tell,” has been altered into —

“Him serve with lear, His praise forth tell.”

Surely we need, then, to heed the message of the Methodist preacher, and round our

faces, so that the sparkling eye and the happy expression may tell the peace and joy in God which reigns within. Miss Havergal gave, as her dying message, “The world needs drvight Christians.”

Rejoice in the Lord alway, for joy ts strength. — Nehemiah (viii. 10) showed an accurate knowledge of human nature when he stayed the weeping of the people, as they stood condemned and conscience- stricken beneath the reading of the law. The walls of Jerusalem were hardly finished, the natural defences as yet incomplete, the enemies of the newly returned exiles on the alert — it would have been suicidal on the part of the leaders to have allowed the people to be overwhelmed with sorrow. “Go home,” they said, “eat the fat and drink the sweet, neither be ye grieved, for the jot of the Lord is your strength.” During the late war, we were told of the scion of a noble house who had escaped from captivity at Pretoria being able to live for four days on some sticks of chocolate, because he had begun to taste the inexpressible joy of liberty. What cannot men do when their hearts are glad and free? Joy gives wings to the feet, sinews to the legs, muscles to the arms, elasticity to every motion. Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice in the Lord and always. Rejoice in the Lord alway, for joy ts attractive- — The first thing that led me to seek the secret of God was the exuberant joy which I discerned beaming forth from the noble nature of a young man ae had recently yielded himself entirely to God. What he said was probably not remarkable. At least, it has long ago faded from my mind.

But I said to myself, “Here is one who is happy in his religious life. Not condemned for the past, not conscious of a cloud between himself and God, not dreading the future. His religion is a light on his inner heart, and the glow of it is on his face.” To see it was to hunger for it, and to desire it was to obtain. Yes, there is a spring that rises in the soul, and flows over in musical ripples on the face and in the speech, which is infinitely attractive to those who have just religion enough to make them miserable. If only we were happy in our religious life, with the sparkle, the light, the song that Christ gives, many would come around to ask for our secret, whose joy has been like the brief crackling of thorns under a pot. Rejoice in the Lord, for joy ts proof against temptation. — The evil one is foiled by song

as much as by prayer, and perhaps more.

What can Sennacherib do when the virgin daughter of Zion laughs him to scorn? What can Ammon and Seir do against Jehoshaphat when he inaugurates the battle by appointing certain to sing unto the Lord, and praise the beauty of His holiness? As the microbes of disease cannot exist in the sunlight, neither can temptation succeed against a joyous, singing heart. Song is an antiseptic environment — a bank of sunbeams — which is utterly impregnable to all the assaults of the adversary.

Rejoice in the Lord, for joy is very much the matter of the will — We can choose whether to look on the dark or the bright side of things, on the possibilities of failure or the probabilities of success; on the bank of clouds that stand like Alps on the horizon,

or the blue skies that canopy overhead.

Say to yourself sometimes, “I am going to be happier; I refuse to give way to these depressed and saddening thoughts; I am resolved to turn from my circumstances to my Saviour.” Do as David did, when he took himself to pieces and spoke to his soul, as though it were some other self: “Why art thou cast down, oh my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I will yet praise Him.” Be glad, that some day you will have reason to be glad; rejoice because the sun is shining down the valley, in the direction you are going; rejoice, because weeping can only endure for the night, whilst joy is eternal and everlasting; rejoice that you have such a God, in whom are beauty and strength. Say with Habakkuk, “Though the fig-tree

shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine, the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat, the flock be cut off from the fold, and no herd be in the stalls, yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.” There is always a patch of blue in the darkest sky — look at that; it will grow. Count your mercies; God always leaves us more than He takes. If you don’t feel like singing, be sure to start a song; the singing voice will often stir the weary songless heart and it will catch the contagion. Hide yourself in God, put Him between yourself and your anxieties or your foes — even when your feet are fast in the stocks begin to chant some old Psalm, till the prison rocks and the chains fall from off your wrists. The perennial source of joy ts the undivided

heart. — When we are divided between many conflicting interests, halting between two opinions, trying to serve two masters, distracted by the cares of many things, which enter in to choke the word, we cannot be really joyful. But when the whole current of our being sets in towards God, wiping out the minor ruffles and cross-currents of the stream; when we have no motive save to please our master Christ and do His will; when we are the gilded temples for His indwelling, the channels for His outworking, then our peace begins to flow as a river, and having peace with God, we rejoice in hope of His glory, and rejoice in tribulations also, and rejoice in God Himself through our Lord Jesus Christ. (ROOl v5.12, 3,. 8.)

Probably we shall do wisely, not to seek

joy as an end in itself, let us rather cultivate the conditions out of which joy springs. It is always good when children sing. The song assures you that the heart is not distracted with anxiety, or wrong-doing, or trouble. Singing is the overflow of a contented, quiet heart, which brims beyond its holding. When the burnt-offering began, in the old sacred story, the song of the Lord began also; and when once the whole soul is laid as a burnt-offering on God’s altar, the song begins which shall never

Cease.