God Above Rules All
Prayer for One in Danger
OUR brother is in danger, Lord!
And Thou alone hast that bright sword
That never fads in danger’s hour.
Oh! shield him by Thy mighty power.
Anoint our eyes that we may see
Round him a glorious company,
With strength and with salvation shod,
The guardian army of our God!
Oh, may we, like the seer of old,
See through the air Thy spears of gold!
And when our brother’s faith is dim,
Bid Thy bright warriors fight for Him!
Flora Maitland Macrae.
A correspondent says: ― “My own dear young brother is in the trenches, and wrote me the other day saying, ‘No one knows how we soldiers value prayer; we go into the firing line praying and trembling, but prayer bucks us up.’ He loves to get the ‘Message,’ which I send him, and he passes it on.”
“Stand at Arms! Sir”
Officers and men on duty in the trenches have to be ready for service at any moment. Neither the boots nor the clothes must be taken off for an hour. At any moment the attack may come, and it must not find them unprepared. When the tired officers have had their rest, and the time has come for them to resume duty, the awakening cry is, “Stand at arms! sir.” Then sleep has to be banished and the ceaseless watch resumed.
And Paul, the great sentinel of God, speaks the awakening word today to every Christian: “Stand at arms! Christian.” He cries in the darkness of a world’s sin, with all the hosts of evil arrayed against the living God; in these perilous times he cries, “Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.” “Awake!” “Arise!” Be alive and active in the interests of God. Line the trenches for God; look through the periscope of faith for the coming foe. “Be strong in the Lord.” “Watch and pray.” “Fight the good fight of faith.” Say as you run to meet the enemy of your souls, “If God be for us, who can be against us?” and “In all things more than conquerors, through Him who loveth us.”
The Man Up There
We are told that at a recruiting meeting in Trafalgar Square, after a poem had been recited called, “The Suit of Blue,” an aged, white-bearded man made his way through the crowd, and with the assistance of some soldiers, clambered on to the plinth of the Nelson Column. Pointing with his stick to the figure of Nelson, he shouted, “There’s the man for me up there.” He was seventy-seven, he said. He had been a soldier, a sailor, and a volunteer. He still wanted to fight. But they wouldn’t let him. He appealed to all able-bodied young men to rally to the defense of their country.
I too can say, pointing upward, “There’s the Man for me up there,” but I am pointing higher than the top of Nelson’s monument. I am pointing to the throne of God in heaven. Upon that throne my Saviour sits―the Son of God. He is there because He has been on earth to die for me, and is in heaven because He has died, “the Just for the unjust,” to bring me to God. The Man of Calvary, the Man of sorrows, is the Man in the glory now. He’s the Man for me up there. He is my Saviour and my God. He speaks to me― He says: ―
“Soul, for thee I left My glory,
Bore the curse of God―
Wept for thee with bitterest weeping,
Agony and blood.
“Soul, for thee I died dishonored,
As a felon dies;
For thou wert the pearl all priceless
In thy Saviour’s eyes.
“Soul, for thee I rose victorious,
Glad that thou wert free;
Entered heaven in triumph glorious―
Heaven I won for thee.
“Soul, I knock, I stand beseeching,
Turn Me not away:
Heart that craves thee, love that needs thee―
Wilt thou say Me nay?”
J.M.
Home from the Trenches
“Home at last, thank God!” we can almost hear him say as he leaps up the steps leading to the open door, with the light shining through it—the glory of home. Home from the mud, the filth, the vermin of the trenches―home from the strained horror of the hourly contact with the hovering angel of death―home from the deadly terror of the shrapnel and the bullet―home, travel-stained and weary―but here it is, “home, sweet home,” where love awaits him. His glad eyes drink in the loving smile of his wife’s face, as he eagerly springs to her embrace. Close by his boy is shouting through the open door, “Father’s come home,” and the whole house rings with the joy of that home-coming. And oh! the gladness of the few days’ rest; the luxury of loving care and loving smiles; to breathe the atmosphere of home, and to feel the quiet peace of love’s abode after all the storm-tossed hours of devastating war. Thank God, too, the warriors of the Cross can look forward to their home-coming. “There remaineth a rest to the people of God.” And one glad day “leave” will be given to us to go home and rest. Then we shall forsake the trenches of sin forever-leave a scene where the devil has “dug himself in,” with all its defilements and sinful discomforts, and go home.
And the light of that home will shine upon us as we reach it; and the angels will shout our “welcome home”; and the Lord of angels will greet us at the heavenly portals; and the garments of our earthly warfare, and the weapons of the conflict, will no more be worn, for they will be no more needed. But in the high festival of heaven we shall walk with Him in white, the mighty Conqueror over death and the grave, and the song of the victor will be ours to sing, and the glory of complete and lasting triumph will be ours with Him for all eternity, in the rest and joy of heaven.
“Lies! Lies! All Lies!”
This is how a Christian at the Front speaks of the awful doctrine preached to the soldiers, that death in battle saves their souls. He continues: “Poor lads, it is hard to die on the battlefield, but to be robbed of the privilege of eternal life is a dreadful thing.” Yes, the curse of God will rest on those who mislead these brave men.