A MATTER OF CULTIVATION
A great many people are willing to sow seed. There is an inspiration in the picture which the word "Sower" brings to the mind. I can never forget those days when the boys and girls just entering their teens took their spades and hoes, left the schoolroom with its algebra and technical grammar behind and went out into the glorious spring sunshine to plant their school gardens. On the various packages of seed were pictured the promised flowers or vegetables and with joy they looked forward to the day when they should be able to proudly exhibit the results of their planting.
When the planting was done most of the children believed that the hardest part of the task was over. Year after year successive classes failed to realize the fact of Time. As the weeks passed and the slow development that is nature's way to perfection went on, one would hear a boy say, "Next year I'm going to plant radishes; they grow faster," and another, "You will never get me to plant squashes again; they're too slow."
These young gardeners found very difficult, and some found quite impossible, the task of waiting, meanwhile working with the soil and protecting the growing plants, that the flower and fruit might be as fine as possible. Despite encouragement from other children and from instructors, some of the boys and girls lost their enthusiasm entirely and seldom looked at their gardens.
Those boys and girls, planting their seeds of flower and fruit on the sunny hillside and in the shaded nooks where the school gardens lay, were not at all unlike the men and women who today plant the good seed in the gardens of hearts that come to them in the glorious springtime of life ready for the sowing. Like the boys and girls these older gardeners are pleased with the picture of the result of their seed sowing. With enthusiasm they enter upon the task of planting, with eagerness they watch for the first appearance of results. And then Time enters in. There is evidence of weeds; slugs and worms appear. Then comes the clear call for the two great virtues of the sower who will win a harvest—Labor and Patience. He must cultivate the soil, else only the meager harvest can be his. The art of cultivation is the one so many would-be harvesters fail to learn.
To realize what the art of cultivation can accomplish one needs to read carefully the increase in the record of the producing power of certain wheat fields in our country during the past four years. Courage comes with the study of the reports of modern miracles accomplished through the advice and instruction of the agricultural schools and colleges which have escaped from the thraldom of the abstract. Every one should look once into the faces of boys and girls of the rural schools who having been instructed in the art of cultivation have practised it and increased the value and quantity of the output on their fathers' farms, ten-fold. It fills one with hope to look into the bright eager face of a fourteen-year-old prize winner, holding side by side in his hand the stalks of corn, one small and meager, the other rich and full, made so by the art of cultivation which he has so patiently practised.
What the cultivation of the soil has accomplished in the agricultural world it can accomplish in the teaching of religion. If young America is irreligious today it is because we have sown the seed and left it to itself. In the soil of young hearts are the elements which make a sane, full output of religious life possible—but cultivation is necessary and, if we are to raise the type of our girlhood, imperative. We shall be compelled to resist the temptation to give up because the seed does not grow faster.
Those entrusted with the cultivation of this human soil into which the seed has been dropped must know what that seed needs as it develops—urging forward here, that through self-expression it may grow strong, restraining there, that it may not spread itself out and through over-expression become weak. Only loving personal knowledge of each individual life will make possible this guidance and restraint. They must know the environment in the midst of which the good seed is striving to climb to fruition, else they cannot know just what to drop into the soil to stimulate the seed in its fight for strength, nor how to protect it from growths that threaten to choke it.
Those entrusted with the cultivation of this soil, if they are to be successful, must learn to use the mighty stimulus to growth that comes from simple friendship. Seed which can come to fruition under no other conditions springs into vigorous life under the power of warm friendship. Many a seed which might have developed and borne rich fruit has shriveled and dried in the chill of unfriendliness and misunderstanding. These cultivators of the heart soil must learn very quickly the value of sunshine. Young life needs the rain and has it, but young life loves the sunshine, it blossoms in the presence of hope and expectation, it droops in the atmosphere of distrust.
If one obeys the law in the sowing of the seed and follows the direction in its nurturing, the Lord of all harvests will himself give the increase.
"God's Word should be sown in the heart like seed;
Then men's hands must tend it, their lives defend it,
Till it bursts into flower as a deathless deed."
Somewhere in the religious training of a girl there must be a large place for the feeding of the soul; for unless food which is able to sustain life and expand it is supplied the girl can never become a power in herself. Hers will not be an invigorating religion; there will not be in her that vitality which will make it possible for her to banish fear and fret, to rise above discouragement, to endure suffering, to triumph over sorrow, to forget self. But if she can gain this energizing power she will not join, in womanhood, the ranks of those spending their days in search of inspiration; she will have it in her own soul. If she lacks this vital power she will become one of the multitude of Christians who are dependent upon circumstances for their happiness, upon the words of others for their encouragement, upon the pleas and persuasion of others to move them to service. From this sort of woman, who is kindly and pleasant when things go smoothly, who courageously attacks a problem as long as another stands by to brace up and urge on, who gives time, thought or money when some strong appeal is made and then loses interest and forgets, until another "prod" is given, from this sort of expression of religious life all who are interested in girls would save them and so are seeking the means of nourishing their souls that power may be generated from within.
It is not possible to get inspiration from a source with which one has no connection and the whole task of those attempting to give to the girl a workable religion, is the task of making connections with the Source of power.
Some weeks ago I observed the work of an instructor attempting to make the connection through the study of the Bible. She knew that telling a girl to read her Bible is not helping or training her to do it. These girls had purchased ten and twenty cent Testaments which could be cut, and small loose-leaf note books, on the covers of which were pasted one of the pictures of Christ. The girls had spent two weeks clipping from the Testaments and pasting in their note books "the things Jesus said about himself and the words God spoke concerning Him." Two weeks more were spent clipping the "things others said about Him"—Peter, Paul, John, the Pharisees. The next work was to clip what Jesus said about forgiveness, about one's duty to neighbors, treatment of one's enemies, the way to be happy. Later they were to use both Old and New Testaments, cutting out the verses which they thought would be of comfort to any one in sorrow, to one who had greatly sinned, and verses which they considered good advice to young people. That instructor was making a sane, practical attempt to feed the souls of those girls by helping them search out for themselves what the Bible has to say on topics of real interest.
I saw a note book recently prepared by a fifteen-year-old girl which I believe most valuable because of the things about which it has lead her to think. She had taken as the subject of her book, "The Good Shepherd." On the cover was a picture with that title; in the inside a fine collection of pictures representing Jesus as the Good Shepherd, clippings regarding oriental shepherd life, "The Shepherd Psalm," the Parable of the Lost Sheep and the words of hymns like "The Ninety and Nine" and poems like "That Li'l Black Sheep."
One cannot soon forget that book with its decorated margins, its neat mounting of cards and clippings and its beautiful pictures. The effect of the book upon the girl who made it, the teachers said was very apparent. Another book was entitled "Come Unto Me," and the pictures, verses and hymns were most impressive. When each girl has exchanged books with each member of the class, they are to be sent to a rescue home for girls.
The Bible messages to mankind brought by such simple methods into direct contact with a girl in her early teens is one means of nourishing her soul. If it is true that the best in poetry, art, literature and oratory, as well as the greatest uplift to character, finds its source in that Book the girl should come into real touch with it that it may feed her expanding soul. It is this sort of first-hand, individual study while she is still a girl which will help her later to turn to the Book for encouragement, comfort and strength, and lead her to great thoughts and the attempting of great things because her own soul is inspired.
The majority of teachers, superintendents and leaders interested in religious instruction today were trained in Christian homes and taught as little children to pray. Attendance at church services of various kinds gave to them almost unconsciously a phraseology of prayer and impressed upon them the place of prayer in the Christian life. So familiar is the fact of prayer that they forget that the majority of pupils in the average Sunday-school of today are not familiar with the words of prayer at family worship, are at best irregular in church attendance and that many are associated with no society in the church where there is any training in prayer.
To such young people prayer has nothing to do with life. They say the Lord's Prayer at school perhaps, formally and hurriedly in the morning, they hear the prayer from the superintendent's desk on Sunday, or perchance remember the evening, "Now I lay me down to sleep," which is said in many homes not Christian, by the little child. But the prayer; which though only an echo of adult prayers, and only half understood, calms many a fear in a childish heart, helps to victory over sin many a struggling ten-year-old reared in a Christian home, is utterly foreign to the child who has none of these influences and who meets in the average Sunday-school not cultivation, but the abstract taken for granted type of instruction.
I have in my possession a most interesting set of papers written by girls in their early twenties regarding their memories of their own training in prayer and the result of it in their lives. I quote first from the papers of girls brought up in Christian homes.
"I can remember now the very wording of some of my father's prayers and those words found their way into my own—some of them are still there. Often when a child, I prayed impulsively, using unconventional terms and saying 'you' instead of 'thou.' Before I was twelve mother often reminded me of my prayers when she said good night. As I grew older nothing was said to me about it. I was hot-tempered and continually 'getting mad' at other girls and teachers and almost every one. No one will ever know the remorse I suffered after one of those outbursts. At night I would pour out my soul in a plea for forgiveness. I was sure God forgave me and started next day with determination to conquer. I often prayed about examinations which were very hard for me. Once or twice I prayed that mother would see that I needed a different kind of dress from the one she planned. I am sure that I felt God was a sympathetic friend and prayer to me was natural."
Here was a girl who because of the cultivation in the home turned simply and naturally to God to supply her need. She is today a pure, healthy, natural young woman who has seemingly triumphed over her propensity to "get mad." Another girl says:
"I have prayed ever since I remember. We always had family prayers at home and in church our pastor always prayed for us children. I used to pray when I was afraid, which I often was at night when the wind blew, and I felt comforted. My little sister was not strong and for years I prayed every night that God would let us keep her. Sometimes when I had been scolded in school for whispering, in which I was a great offender, I prayed in shame and remorse for forgiveness. As I grew older I still prayed when afraid and repentant and often on a beautiful day, or in the canoe at sunset when I could not say all I felt. When I was about eighteen I began to pray for the missionaries and people who were poor and sick. I do not remember any definite instruction about prayer. It seemed natural to me. I often felt doubts when the answer didn't come but had a very definite feeling that the trouble must be with me."
This girl by environment and unconscious training has also found speaking with God a natural thing. There are so many papers which express through different personalities the same general facts which cannot fail to impress one who reads, with the power of the cultivation of prayer.
But in the papers and from the interviews of girls in the early twenties whose only definite relation with the church is the Sunday-school class, who come from non-Christian homes, whose parents almost never enter a church a different note sounds.
One says:
"I am trying to be a Christian. I have not joined the church. I cannot say that I pray very regularly but I have tried to. It does not seem to help me much. The minister prayed for me the day my brother died and it helped. Sometimes I read in a book of prayers."
And another writes:
"I do not believe I ever was taught to say my prayers when a child. I do not remember ever praying except the Lord's Prayer. I am interested in our class, the teacher makes the lessons interesting. I like to hear them discuss things. I always bow my head during prayer anywhere. Sometimes I have thought I would pray for myself but I never have."
One of the most interesting papers is written by a young woman engaged in rescue work for girls, or has talked personally with a great many girls about prayer. She says:
"There was another girl with whom I talked one afternoon whose face I can see clearly now. She was suffering from great remorse because of her sin, for up to the time of her misfortune she had been 'a good girl.' One of the workers suggested that she pray for strength and forgiveness. 'Pray,' she said bitterly. 'They told me that when I was a little girl and went to Sunday-school. Pray. How can I talk to God? What would he do for me? I tried last night when I couldn't sleep but don't know what to say!'"
There was no natural turning to a strong sympathetic Friend and Father on the part of these girls, or the twenty or more whose testimony I have been looking over. Those who were trying to be Christians made it a matter of duty to try to pray but it was irregular and forced; there was no natural spontaneity about it. It wasn't real to them, it played no vital part in life. In looking over the papers one is convinced of the tremendous asset the girl has who from childhood has been trained to turn to the Source of Strength when in fear or trouble or need and when filled with the joy of living. A girl's life must be raised to a higher plane by daily contact with the Highest. If she sincerely speaks but for a moment to God, realizing his love, mercy, justice and righteousness, it will not be as easy for her to be jealous, unkind, untrue or a gossip. One covets for all girls this natural, spontaneous turning to God which has seemed to come to so many through the Christian home and its unconscious influence and instruction. Nothing can take the place of the earnest daily prayer of a manly father, and the instruction of a sweet, Christian mother. But the task which so many homes lays down the community must take up. The public school cannot cultivate the spirit of prayer, and if the home does not, the church remains the only possible agent through which it may be done. The Sunday-school teacher is the church's most potent instrument, therefore a large share of the task is hers.
The teachers in the Beginners' departments realize the need of the cultivation of prayer and pray simply and often during the session, baby lips repeating the words. Through cards and memory verses prayers go into homes where none are ever made. In Primary departments the instruction is continued and children are led to express themselves in simple words of worship. In the Junior departments there is the superintendent's prayer—the appeal it makes depending upon the leader's sympathy, and knowledge of childhood. Often both are lacking. These Junior girls know the street, the moving picture show, the unsupervised playground, the temptations of school life; they are beginning to show the moral effect of poverty on the one hand and social ambitions and false standards on the other. How many prayers for girls from ten to twelve does one hear? How many can he find though he search ever so diligently.
When we come to the girl in her teens we find often in large numbers of classes that the only instruction in prayer is the indirect teaching from the prayer at the desk. How many girls listen reverently to it?
They come from stores and shops, from high schools, offices, homes of plenty and homes of want. They know temptation, they meet it in more dangerous forms than ever before. How does the prayer affect life as they know it? Very little I am bound to believe unless the great experience has come to them and they have said in simple girlish fashion, "O Christ, I choose thee King of my life—I follow thee wherever the way shall lead," unless that transferring of will from vague and indefinite desire to a definite purpose has come, the prayer which is a part of the average opening service will have little influence. Even if the great decision has been made, the prayer of one far away at the desk, often out of touch with young life, does not bring the uplift.
What a teacher may do the following testimony of a young girl may help us to see:
"I never had any special instruction in prayer at home. I think I must have said my prayers when a very little child. My parents are just fine but they do not go to church. They almost always spend Sundays with grandmother on the farm. I do not remember any instruction about prayer, though of course it was mentioned and I knew good people prayed, until I was seventeen when the finest teacher I ever had talked to us about it for four Sundays. Then I saw how much the people who had helped the world had prayed and how much it did for them. She made Christ seem so beautiful and sympathetic that though I can't explain it I wanted to pray myself. That afternoon out in the hammock I did. I shall never forget how wonderful the world seemed.... In a few weeks three of us joined the church and we prayed for the other girls. That year eight of us joined."
The testimony speaks for itself. She taught them what prayer had done for others; she made them want to pray. I do not know that teacher but I feel sure she knew by experience what she taught.
I know another teacher who is very successful in cultivating the spiritual life of every class of girls as it comes to her. I find that each new class has been asked to join with her at night in using wisely selected prayers written by Stevenson, Rauschenbusch, Phillips Brooks, and others taken from religious journals and from calendars. Each prayer is used daily for two weeks. After about six months the teacher asks that a committee be appointed to write a prayer for the class, this committee being changed every two weeks.
Some of the prayers were very helpful and all had a crude, simple sincerity that was fine. I saw a letter written to this teacher by a seventeen-year-old girl away from home and out on a strike. It was a pathetic letter but one sentence cheered the teacher's heart—"The prayer that Midge and Kate wrote keeps coming to my mind and it helps me to keep a level head when we all git kinder wild."
When girls see that prayer is not beseeching an unwilling God for things the desire for which may be born of pure selfishness, but is the way by which help to keep steady and strong, power to love one's fellows and to live courageously and well comes to many, it will make a difference in what they think about prayer and the way they pray. But most girls do not know these things intuitively. They must be helped to know them. The spirit within them must be cultivated. Prayer and seeking the Bible for courage and help are largely matters of cultivation. The great Teacher prayed Himself in such a wonderful way that the disciples listening cried—"Lord, teach us how to pray." And he answered their request, giving them the words to say until they should find words for themselves. He made them want to pray.
If the girl herself chances to read this chapter let her be assured that there is no lesson in all the world which she can learn which can give to her anything like the courage, strength, comfort and help to go right on in the face of hard things, that can come to her through learning how to truly pray, not empty words, not words for others to hear, but words that say all she feels of disappointment and longing, of hope and gladness. The Great God hears all one can say and knows what she cannot say. Only God can do that. Even the best friends tire of our struggles and failures. God never does and when I speak to Him I may know He cares. Though I am one speck of humanity in a great mass of men and women, though the girl who is reading this is just one ordinary girl, one among millions the world around, she may speak to God, her Creator without fear, may touch His greatness and her heart be warmed by His answering touch.
"Speak to Him then, for He heareth,
and spirit with spirit may meet.
Closer is He than breathing,
And nearer than hands and feet."