So once more old England greeted her sons across the Channel, and commended them to Him who died and rose again for their Salvation.
But we are beginning to look forward to the future. The war will end some day, and then, what then?
A new army will come back from the fight, veteran as regards its fighting power, but new as regards its conduct and its spirit. Mr. Asquith said this was a "spiritual war." It is so perhaps in a deeper sense than Mr. Asquith meant. There has been "wrestling" out there, not only against "flesh and blood," but against the powers of sin and darkness. And there has been victory—victory over sin, victory in Christ. And back they will come to us—these new men who have been transfigured and transformed upon the battlefield. And the question is to what sort of a Church will they come? Shall the fires of their new love be chilled by the ice of our formality, or shall our worldliness seem strange to these new citizens of the City of God?
If we are not ready to receive these new men when they come home, God will send in a terrible account to us which we shall have to pay. Woe to the Church which quenches the fire of their devotion, to the so-called Christian who lives in Ease-in-Zion instead of in Beulah Land!
Now is the time for the churches to prepare. We are told that the enthusiasm of last September is dying out of our churches, that in the busy work of the following months we have forgotten to pray. We are even getting used to the war. Let the churches of our land bestir themselves. These men will need our choicest care, as they deserve our most brilliant example. Christ has not left Britain for Flanders. He is here too, and we must seek Him in penitence and prayer, that when the lads come home His Church shall be found ready for her Christian task.
What a welcome we will give them when they come! How the great hall will be hung with flags, and the homely hearth will be gay for once! What love light there will be in the eyes of the mother, the wife, and the maiden! How hand will grasp hand, and all the world will seem young again! They are coming—they are coming!
But not all are coming,—some have fallen in the fight, and sad hearts will weep in silence, and lives will seem worthless now they are no more. But it will not all be darkness even to those who mourn, for it is great to die with honour and in the service of one's country. And many a home will cherish the memory of its hero, and look forward to a meeting by and by. And Britain will emblazon their names on its roll of honour—this man and that man has died for her.
They are coming—they are coming, and we greet them one and all—the men who fought for us and endured nobly on our behalf.
Let us show them when they come a new Britain, freed from the curse of drink, purified as by fire—a new Britain which has crowned Christ as its King, fit mother of such sons as these!