RESULTS OF CHURCH RELATIONSHIP.
The results of church relationship are too numerous to mention. To be a church member glorifies God, enlarges influence, and leads others into the broad fields of usefulness, where God can own and bless.
In “Darkest Africa,” a great man did a great work, through loving and uniting with God’s people in youth. In a little village of Scotland, stood an old church, whose pastor had preached therein for many years. One Sunday morning he was accosted by one of his deacons, whose face wore a very resolute but distressed expression. “I came early to meet you,” he said, “I have something on my heart to say to you, Pastor. There must be something radically wrong in your preaching and work; there has been only one person added to the church in a whole year, and he only a boy.”
The old minister listened. His eyes moistened and his thin hand trembled on his broad-headed cane. “I feel it all,” said he, “I feel it, but God knows that I have tried to do my duty, and I can trust Him for the results.” “Yes, yes,” said the deacon, “but ‘by their fruits ye shall know them.’ (Matt. 7:20). One new member seems to me a rather slight evidence of true faith and zeal. I don’t want to be hard; I have had this matter on my heart and I have only done my duty in speaking plain.” “True,” said the old man, “but ‘charity suffereth long and is kind: beareth all things, hopeth all things!’ (1 Cor. 13:4, 7). Ay, there you have it: ‘hopeth all things!’ I have great hopes of that one boy. Some seed that we sow bears fruit late, but its fruit is generally the most precious of all.”
The old minister went into the pulpit with a grieved and heavy heart, and closed his discourse with dim and tearful eyes. He wished that his work was done forever and that he was at rest under the blooming trees in the old churchyard. He lingered in the church after the rest were gone. He desired to be alone. The place was sacred and inexpressibly dear to him. It had been his spiritual home from his youth. Before this altar he prayed over the dead forms of bygone generations, and had welcomed the children of succeeding ones; and now to be told that his work was no longer owned and blessed!
No one remained, no one? “Only a boy.” He watched the trembling man. His soul was filled with loving sympathy. He went to him, and laid his hand on his black gown. “Well, Robert?” said the minister. “Do you think if I were willing to work hard for an education, I could ever become a preacher?” “A preacher?” “Perhaps a missionary.” There was a long pause. Tears filled the eyes of the minister. At length he said, “This heals each ache in my heart, Robert. I see the divining Hand now. May God bless you, my boy. Yes, I think you will become a preacher.”
Some few years ago there returned to London from Africa an aged missionary. His name was spoken with reverence. When he went into an assembly the people rose; when he spoke in public there was a deep silence. Princes stood uncovered before him, nobles invited him to their homes, and on one occasion he was presented with a sum of five thousand guineas in recognition of his great services. He had added a province to the church of Christ on earth; he had brought under the gospel influence the most savage of African chiefs; had given the translated Bible to strange tribes; had enriched with valuable knowledge the Royal Geographical Society, and had honored the humble place of his birth, the old Scottish church, the United Kingdom and the universal missionary cause.
Who was the boy? Who was the minister? The latter is forgotten. He sleeps beneath the trees in the humble place of his labors, but men remember his work because of what he was to that one boy, and what that boy was to the world. “Only a boy that had joined the church,” but that boy was the great missionary Robert Moffatt. Had he neglected church and mingled with bad company and formed bad habits, what a great work would have been left undone, what an obscure life he would have lived, and the name so universally known would never have been uttered with reverence as it is now!
BEE HUNTING.
Of hunting bees, one writer has said that the manner of catching them is very ingenious. He puts a piece of honeycomb into a box. Then he catches a bee and covers him within the box. As soon as the fright of the prisoner is overcome, he moves about, tastes the honey and is satisfied. The prison becomes a home. Being loosed, he finds his way back to the hive and in a little time returns, bringing others with him. He has told the secret story of his find to his former associates, and they in turn follow him back until the bee-hunter’s box is filled with a swarm of bees. This is God’s appointed way of building up His church and saving the race. He first reveals Himself to one soul, entrancing him with His love and thrilling his soul with the joys of salvation. This one, having tasted the sweetness of forgiveness and the joy of hope, goes to another, narrating his experience and discovery, and he in turn finds another, until one by one he brings them into the great church hive. Andrew brings Peter, (John 1:41) Philip brings Nathaniel, (John 1:45) Joel Stratton brings Gough, Robert Eaglen brings Spurgeon, and you, some other boy.