THE DISCIPLINE OF WAR _Nine Addresses on the Lessons of the War in Connection with Lent_ FROM ASH WEDNESDAY to EASTER SUNDAY WITH AN APPENDIX CONTAINING SUGGESTED SUBJECT FOR MEDITATION, AND SUITABLE PASSAGE OF SCRIPTURE, FOR EACH DAY IN LENT BY THE REV. J. HASLOCH POTTER, M. A. _Hon. Canon of Southwark and Vicar of St. Mark's, Surbiton, Surrey_ London SKEFFINGTON & SON 34, Southampton Street, Strand, W. C. _Publishers to His Majesty the King_ 1915 AUTHOR'S PREFACE The war has introduced into countless lives new conditions, and hasstrangely modified, or emphasised, those already existing. TheseAddresses, prepared under much stress of other work, are intended tosupply, in very simple fashion, hints for conduct and points for thoughtalong the lines of our fresh or deepened responsibilities. An Appendixgives a suggested subject and a passage of Scripture for each day duringLent. May God the Holy Ghost, without Whom man's best labours are invain, bless this little book to its purpose. Please say a prayer for thewriter, who, as much as any, needs grace that he may try to practisewhat he preaches. J. HASLOCH POTTER. Surbiton. The Conversion of St. Paul. 1915. FOREWORD Kingston House, Clapham Common. _January 19th, 1915. _ My dear Canon, -- You have invited me to say a few words introductory to the little bookyou are putting forth, and of which you have sent me the advance proofs. From the great excellence of that which I have read, I am convincedthat your Lenten meditations on the Discipline of War, will be ofpre-eminently spiritual value in a time when publications on thesubject are multiplied. That the war is to leave us on a higherplane of self-discipline, and with higher ideals of citizen life andresponsibility, every Christian must acknowledge. Your little Lentenscheme is just that which is needed to give reality and action to whatmight otherwise be left in the realm of theory. May the Holy Spirit makeuse of your work to the benefit of us all and for the Glory of God. Your sincere friend, CECIL HOOK, _Bishop. _ CONTENTS I PAGE The Discipline of the Will 1 II The Discipline of the Body 9 III The Discipline of the Soul 18 IV The Discipline of the Spirit 27 V Discipline through Obedience 35 VI The Discipline of Sorrow 44 VII Discipline through bereavement 52 VIII Discipline through Self-sacrifice 62 IX Discipline through Victory 70 * * * * * Appendix 81 THE DISCIPLINE OF WAR I =The Discipline of the Will= ASH WEDNESDAY Isaiah lviii. 6 "Is not this the fast that I have chosen?" Discipline is the central idea of the observance of Lent. Anopportunity, rich in its splendid possibilities, comes before us thisyear. Much of the discipline of this Lent is settled for us by thosetragic circumstances in which we find ourselves placed. God seems to be saying to us, in no uncertain tones, "Is not this thefast that I have chosen?" Our amusements are already to a large extent curtailed, maybe by our ownindividual sorrows or anxieties; maybe by the feeling of the incongruityof enjoying ourselves while anguish and hardship reign supreme aroundus. Our self-denials are already in operation, under the stress ofstraitened means, or the vital necessity of helping others less favouredthan ourselves. Our devotions have already been increased in frequency and inearnestness, for the call upon our prayers has come with an insistenceand an imperiousness that brook no denial. To this extent, and further in many directions, our Lent has been takenout of our own hands; ordered and pre-arranged by that inscrutable, yetloving, Providence which has permitted the War to come about. Thus, at the very outset, we are brought into harmony with the centralidea of discipline--not my will, but God's will. Broadly, discipline is defined as "Mental and moral training, underone's own guidance or under that of another": the two necessarilyoverlap, and therefore we shall speak of God's discipline, acting uponus from outside, and of our own co-operation with divine purposes, whichis our discipline of self from within. In the forefront of the subject, and including every aspect of it uponwhich we shall touch, stands that tremendous word--_will_. Have you ever attempted to gauge the mystery, to sound the depth ofmeaning implied in the simple sentence "I will"? First of all what is the significance of "I"? You are the only one whocan say it of yourself. Any other must speak of you as "he" or "she";but "I" is your own inalienable possession. This is the mystery of personality. That accumulation of experience, that consciousness of identity which you possess as absolutely, uniquelyyour own; which none other can share with you in the remotest degree. "Athing we consider to be unconscious, an animal to be conscious, a personto be self-conscious. " This leads on to a further mystery, alike concerned with so apparentlysimple a matter that its real complexity escapes us. "I _will_": I, the self-conscious person, have made up my mind whatI am going to do, and, physical obstacles excepted, I will do it. The freedom of man's will has been the subject of endless dispute fromevery point of view, theistic, atheistic, Christian and non-Christian. Merely as a philosophic controversy it has but little bearing upon dailylife. The staunchest necessitarian, who argues _theoretically_ thateven when he says "I will" he is under the compulsion of external force, yet acts _practically_ in exactly the same fashion as the rest ofmankind. When the freedom of the will is considered in relation to religion, thenit bears a totally different aspect. If the will be not free, religion, as a personal matter, falls to the ground, for its very essence is man'svoluntary choice of God. Here too those who deny the freedom of man's will doctrinally yet acceptit as a working fact. Calvin, whose theory of Predestination andIrresistible Grace seems to exclude man from any co-operation in his ownsalvation, yet preached a Gospel not to be distinguished from that ofJohn Wesley! For us Christians the freedom of the will is absolutely settled by HimWho says, "Whosoever will let him come. " If you are sometimes troubled by certain passages in Scripture whichseem to imply that God's predestination overrides man's will, remember, that whenever we are considering any question which concerns both God'snature and man's nature, difficulty must arise, from the very fact thatour finite mind can only comprehend, and that but imperfectly, man'sside of the transaction. Things which now seem incompatible, such asprayer and law; miracle and, what we are pleased to call, nature; God'sforeknowledge and man's free-will in the light of eternity will be seenas only complementary parts of one divine whole. Remember too that you must take the general bearing of Scripture; notisolated passages in which, for the necessity of the argument, one sideis strongly emphasised. The Apostle who, thinking of the boundless powerof God's grace, says, "So then it is not of him that willeth nor of himthat runneth, but of God that showeth mercy" (Rom. Ix. 16) is the onewho says "He willeth that all men should be saved" (1 Tim. Ii. 4). The love by which the Father gave up His Son; the life and death of thatSon; the ministry of God the Holy Ghost; the whole dispensation of theCatholic Church, form one great tender appeal to the free-will of man. Your free-will, my free-will, before which is placed the tremendousresponsibility of choosing or rejecting. And now from the broad thought of will, at its highest point, occupiedwith eternal choices and spiritual decisions, we turn to will as thegoverning power in our lives. It is, to a certain extent, self in action, for before even theslightest movement of any part of the body, there must have gone, automatically and unconsciously, an act of will. Before every deliberate action there takes place a discussion, whichultimately decides the attitude of the will, that is your final purpose. Put quite simply, the _motives_ determine the _will_, and arethemselves decided by the _principles_ at the back of them. Let us make this plain by an illustration. It is pouring with rain, youare sitting cosily over the fire with an interesting book. The thoughtcomes into your mind, I ought to go and see my sick friend. Then followsthe deliberation: the flesh says, "To-morrow will do just as well. " Thespirit says, "No, it won't; you may both be dead to-morrow. " The fleshsays, "Perhaps I shall catch a cold"; the spirit says, "That fearwouldn't keep you from going to a Picture Palace. " The flesh says, "Perhaps he won't care to see me to-day"; the spirit replies, "It's adull, wet afternoon, and he's very likely to be alone. " Now notice that at the back of each set of motives is a vital principle. In the one case the lower self, in the other the higher self, that is tosay "I" and "God. " The purely natural, human side of even the greatest saint would preferto sit over the fire; but then our nature is not left unassisted, andeven in a simple thing like this God the Holy Ghost comes to our aidwith His suggestions of the higher course, and illuminates the path ofduty. That is one of the most blessed features of the ministry of theSpirit; He enlightens, He persuades, He never compels: if He did, yourwill would not be free. This explains what the discipline of the will really means. It is justthe laying of ourselves open to the voice of the living God, speakingwithin us. As we do this, day by day, the will itself becomes braced andstrengthened, so that the struggle against the lower nature grow lessand less fierce, the power of choosing the higher course more and moreeasy. Here is our first practical thought for this Lent. Watch yourself and your life, especially in those particulars in whichyou know that you have been getting out of hand. The prayers omitted, curtailed, said carelessly, said or attempted in bed, instead of on yourknees: what a grievous failure, isn't it? The carelessness about preparation before and thanksgiving afterCommunion, the irregularity of your attendances; the habit ofSelf-Examination, or of Confession, dropped--why? The Bible neglected. Then the self-indulgences in the matter of sleep, food, drink, andpurely wasted hours. All these things are sapping the manhood and dignity of the will. Sometimes even more dangerously and insidiously than open sins, becausewith regard to these conscience does speak; but when we are merelydrifting down the stream of time, the pleasant lapping of the ripples onthe side of the bark lulls conscience into fatal sleep. Look at your life, ask yourself the question, boldly and honestly, whatis the principle upon which it is being lived, God or self? When theanswer comes you will see clearly the first steps to take in thedisciplining of the will. Glorious examples of what can be done abound around you. Think you therehas been no struggle on the part of those tens of thousands who havegiven up comforts, home, prospects, harmless pleasures, in exchange forthe ghastly miseries of the trenches, the appalling risks by land, on orbeneath the sea, in the air, all at the call of a stern, compellingduty, which told them that the life really worth living was the onespent, laid down if need be, for King and country? Think too of the heroism of the wives, the mothers, the sweethearts, onwhose lips there must have trembled over and again, "I will not, Icannot let you go. " Yet the will was disciplined, the words remainedunspoken, the tears were shed in secret, and these brave hearts, even inbreaking, shall find their reward. It was at Waterloo one afternoon, a young officer was being seen off forthe front by father, brother, and _fiancée_. The two former bravelyand cheerily said their good-bye, and withdrew a little to leave theyoung couple for their farewell; a kiss, a close embrace, outwardsmiles, but tears very near the eyes; and then as the officer got intothe carriage just this one remark: "It's precious hard upon the women. "What a world of meaning there was in that. Above all, as your pattern and your power, look to Him Who said, "I camedown from Heaven not to do mine own will but the will of Him that sentMe. " _For suggested meditations during the week, see Appendix. _ II =The Discipline of the Body= FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT 1 Cor. Ix. 27 "I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage. " On Ash Wednesday we were considering some purely subjective realities, such as principles, motives, will--things we could not see. To-day wethink about a very objective substance, ever present to our senses--ourbody. A man may deny point blank the existence of his soul--using theword in its ordinary acceptation--he cannot say, "I have not got abody. " Even if he should conceive of that body as a mere bundle ofideas, an accumulation of sensations, yet there it is, making itselffelt in countless ways. So intimately bound up is it with every part of our life, apparently soinfinitely the most real part of us, that we often think of it as beingour true self. Yet every cell and fibre of it changes in the course ofseven years. Therefore in itself it cannot maintain our identity. Haveyou ever pinched your nail, right down at its base, and watched the darkmass of congealed blood making its way to the tip of the finger, andthen dispersing? This gives you some idea of the pace at which the bodyis being burned up and renewed. All the while the personal "I" remains, deep-seated in theself-conscious intellect, memory, will. Of course the body plays an immensely important part in the complexstory of our existence. It is the machine by which the personal selfacts, speaks, loves, hates, chooses, refuses; therefore we can neitherignore it nor despise it. The popular notion concerning religion is that it is meant only for thesalvation of the soul. If this were so, then the coming of the HolyGhost would have sufficed for all needs. One manifest purpose of the Incarnation was to give to the body thepossibility of holiness here, resurrection hereafter. Very marvellous is the dignity conferred upon the body by the fact the"Word was made flesh. " From that flows forth the high position of theChristian, whose body is a "temple of the Holy Ghost. " It is through the body that we receive the Sacraments, which are meansof grace to the soul. Did time permit, it would be deeply interesting to trace out the use ofthe word body in this connection--the natural body of our Lord, Hisspiritual body after the Resurrection, His mystical body, the Church, inwhich sense He Himself is called "the Saviour of the body" (Eph. V. 23), His Sacramental Body, of which He says, "This is my body. " The discipline of the body. The thought is prominently before us at the present moment, and firstlet us look at it from its purely material side. Thousands of youths whoa few months ago were slouching, narrow-chested, feeble specimens ofunderbred humanity, have now-expanded into well set up, hardened men. The body has been disciplined by drill, exercises, route-marching, andthe like. Those who return from the war uninjured will, we may hope, bein such improved condition as may somewhat compensate for the terribleloss of vigorous life which is taking place. Had there been universal military training of the youth of our land forthe past few generations, either the present war would never have takenplace; or the results of the first three weeks of it would have beenvastly different from what they were. Now take another significant fact: letter after letter from the frontsays, "We are all very fit. " The average "fitness" in the trenches is, broadly speaking, higher than that of training camps at home, especiallyof those where little or no supervision is exercised as to strong drink. How plainly this shows that hardness, even of an extreme character, braces up the body; softness and self-indulgence enfeeble it. S. Paul affords a wonderful illustration of this; obviously a man ofvery delicate health, frequently ill (probably this was the thorn in theflesh), yet accomplishing vast labours, and, in addition, buffeting hisown flesh lest it should get the upper hand. Here, then, we reach the first great principle in the discipline of thebody. It must not have its own way, or it will infallibly assert itssway over the man's real self. That is what happens in the case of the habitual drunkard or the slaveof lust. That which at first is a temptation, perfectly capable of beingresisted, becomes at last what the doctors call a "physical" cravingthat, humanly speaking, cannot be overcome. By constant yielding thewill has been weakened to such an extent that the personal "I" no longerreigns; the usurping body has taken its place and rules supreme. Let us take the main thought of self-control, which is the truerendering of the word temperance, the state in which, as S. James says, the man is "able to bridle the whole body" (S. James iii. 2), and testourselves by it this Lent. Am I retaining my dominion over my body, oris it gradually pushing itself into my place? Self-examination, honestly performed, will reveal this at once, forconscience, unless blunted by neglect, will speak infallibly. For instance, when you find some indulgence of the flesh concerningwhich you say "I can't help it, " there your body has vanquished you. Itis absorbing your personality, robbing you of your divine birthright, inwhich you say, "I will, " "I will not. " And now to go a step further--the disciplining of the body, care inregard to eating, drinking, amusements, and the like; strictness as toluxuries and things which, though lawful, may not be expedient, not onlytend to bodily strength and mere physical well-being, but brace up thewill power, because they entail the constant exercise of it. Here is where the practical wisdom of the Church comes in as regardsfasting. One day in every week is set apart, beside other days andseasons, as a reminder of the fact that fasting is a duty of theChristian life, just as much as almsgiving and prayer--a duty sanctifiedby the example enjoined by the precept of our Lord Himself. True, no hard and fast rules are laid down, but a little sanctifiedcommon sense will dictate to us how to make fast-days a reality, by somesimple acts of self-denial. Our last thought is one of intense practical importance--our attitude atthe present moment towards strong drink. Lord Kitchener and the Archbishop of Canterbury have both on severaloccasions called the attention of the nation to the terrible evilsarising from the unhappy custom of treating soldiers to strong drink. _Punch_, always on the side of morality and rightness, has dealtwith it in the following trenchant fashion:-- TO A FALSE PATRIOT He came obedient to the Call; He might have shirked, like half his mates Who, while their comrades fight and fall, Still go to swell the football gates. And you, a patriot in your prime, You waved a flag above his head, And hoped he'd have a high old time, And slapped him on the back, and said: "You'll show 'em what we British are! Give us your hand, old pal, to shake"; And took him round from bar to bar And made him drunk--for England's sake. That's how you helped him. Yesterday Clear-eyed and earnest, keen and hard, He held himself the soldier's way-- And now they've got him under guard. That doesn't hurt you; you're all right; Your easy conscience takes no blame; But he, poor boy, with morning's light, He eats his heart out, sick with shame. What's that to you? You understand Nothing of all his bitter pain; You have no regiment to brand; You have no uniform to stain; No vow of service to abuse; No pledge to King and country due; But he has something dear to lose, And he has lost it--thanks to you. [1] [Footnote 1: O. S. In _Punch_, November 4th, 1914. By kindpermission of the Proprietors. ] A man who had so distinguished himself at the front as to be mentionedin a despatch came home slightly wounded. In less than twenty-four hourshe was in a cell at a police station, and the next day fined fortyshillings. Oh! the pathetic pity of it. That man got into troublethrough the exhibition of one of the purest and best features of ourhuman nature, the desire to show kindness. In their well-intentionedignorance this man's friends--yes, they were real friends--knew of onlyone way of displaying friendliness--they gave him liquor. I am not going to blame them, nor him entirely; I am going to lay someof the fault upon ourselves. Since the beginning of the last century the habits of the upper classes, to use a generic though unpleasant term, have improved immeasurably. Then excess was more or less the rule among men of good position, was toa certain extent expected and provided for; witness _The School forScandal_, or the leading novels of the period. Now, the man whodisgraces himself at a dinner-table is never invited again. And even as we go down in the social scale much improvement is apparent. Those who remember Bank Holidays on their first introduction willrecollect that the excess of the working classes was quite open andshameless; but to-day some effort is generally made by the victims, ortheir friends, to hide the disgrace, because Public Opinion isimproving. That is where we come in. Many causes of intemperance in strong drink are matters for legislativeor municipal action; for example, overcrowding, insanitary dwellings orsurroundings, sweating, excessive hours of labour, adulteration ofliquors. But there are two factors upon which we can exercise directinfluence, because they are connected with that great corporate entitycalled Public Opinion. First let us take the one upon which we have already touched--the notionthat friendliness and good fellowship are essentially connected withstrong drink. This is at the bottom of those terrible scenes when troopsare leaving our great London railway stations. Scenes so inexpressiblysad to all thinking people. Everyone who abstains entirely, or who takes the khaki button--a pledgenot to treat nor be treated to strong drink during the continuance ofthe war--is helping to knock a nail into the coffin of one of thesilliest and most fatal delusions that has ever wrought havoc to body, soul, and spirit. And then there is that other weird notion that you cannot be reallystrong and healthy without stimulant. For you the glass of beer or winemay be a mere harmless luxury, in the way in which you take it. Ipurposely exclude spirits, which I am fanatic enough to think shouldonly be used medicinally. But every individual total abstainer helps toswell the testimony not only to the non-necessity of alcohol, but to thefact that, according to the view of a large part of the medicalprofession, the human frame is better without it. You may say, "What good will my abstinence do to people with whom Inever come in contact?" Tell me what influence really is; how itspreads, by what unseen modes it ramifies and extends. Tell me the real significance, the true spiritual value, of the factthat "if one member suffer, all the members suffer with it: if onemember rejoice, all the members rejoice with it. " Then perhaps you can explain in some way, how your abstinence shallspread to desolated homes, to stricken lives, in crowded slums or quietvillages, in fire-raked trenches or storm-tossed ships. No act of self-sacrifice for His sake, Who though He was rich yet forour sakes became poor, ever went without its rich reward. No tiny wave of influence ever yet sped forth from a Christian heart, but what reached its mark and wrought its work of beneficent power. _For suggested meditations during the week, see Appendix. _ III =The Discipline of the Soul= SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT St. John vi. 38 "For I am come down from Heaven, not to do Mine own will, but the will of Him that sent Me. " To-day we are going to speak of the soul not in its popular sense, asset over against the body, but in the scriptural meaning of the word asthe broad equivalent of life. To enter upon a philosophical discussion might prove interesting from amerely academic point of view, but would be eminently unpractical. Suffice it to say that when S. Paul speaks of the "body, soul andspirit" (1 Thess. V. 23), he takes the two latter as different facultiesof the invisible part of man. Soul ([Greek: psychê]) is the lower attribute which man has in commonwith the animals; spirit ([Greek: pneuma]) the higher one which they donot possess, and which makes man capable of religion. In this sense, then, the soul would mean the life the man or woman isleading, in the home, the business, the pleasures, the relaxations, asdistinct from the definite exercise of devotion or worship. Of course it is absolutely impossible to draw a hard and fast linebetween sacred and secular. All secular affairs, rightly conducted, havetheir sacred side; and conversely all sacred matters have their secularside, for they form part of the life the man is living "in the age. " It is the neglect of this truth which is responsible for much of themoral and religious failure of the day. Business is secular, prayer is sacred, and so they have no practicalconnection each with other. Amusement is secular (often vastly too much so, in the very lowest senseof the word); Holy Communion is sacred; therefore there is no linkbetween them. Whereas the prayer and the Communion should be theennobling and sanctifying power alike of work and play. Bearing this caution in mind, we shall to-day look at certain featuresof the so-called secular life of the day in which discipline needs to bestrongly exercised. No doubt about it, the soul of the nation has been growing sick, sick"nigh unto death. " Luxury has been increasing with giant strides; the mad race for pleasurehas helped to empty our Churches, to rob our Charities, to diminish thenumber of our Candidates for Holy Orders, to make countless ears deaf tothe call which the country, through that magnificent Christian soldier, Lord Roberts, and many others, has been making to manhood of the land. Week-ending, meals in restaurants, turning night into day, have robbedhome-life of its grace and power, and produced a generation of youngfolk _blasé_ and discontented before they are out of girlhood andboyhood. With this has come, inevitably, the loss of sense of responsibility. Solong as I can enjoy myself and get my own way, why should I vex myselfwith the outworn question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" No! That has goneinto the limbo of effete superstition. And further, loss of the sense of proportion. There are some to whom itcauses no moral shock to wear a dress costing a hundred guineas, while avast number of seamstresses, shirtmakers, artificial flower makers, boot-closers, and the like, are working seventy hours for 5s. To 8s. Aweek. One mantle-presser, in Dalston, receives 1/2_d. _ per mantle;she is most respectable, has four children, and earns from 5_s. _6_d. _ to 7_s. _ a week! We do not grumble at the hundred guineas being spent upon the dress, ora thousand guineas even, if the money went in due proportion all roundto supply the _full living wage to each one engaged in its production_:and if the wearer interested herself keenly in social problems, and usedher means wisely and well to afford relief where it was needed. This, alas! does not happen when the sense of proportion is lacking. Take another case--alas! a fearfully common one. Men and women willgamble recklessly at Bridge, lose heavily, pay up, at whatever cost, because it is _a debt of honour_. All the while a hard-pressedtailor, a famished dressmaker and her children are kept out of theirmoney, because it is only _a debt of commerce_. Could there be amore ghastly parody on the word honour? Yet once more--the lack of seriousness. By seriousness we do not meangloominess, nor withdrawal from society, or anything of the kind. Wemean the flippant attitude towards life, the lack of serious, sustainedinterest in literature, in music, in art, in the legitimate drama;witness the theatres being turned into cinema shows, and the terriblepaucity of sound, strong plays. Everything must be scrappy, light, andif a little (or more than a little) risky, so much the better. We do not for a moment say that these evils are universal, God forbid, but none can deny that they have eaten deep into a large part ofsociety, using the word in its broadest, not in its technical sense. The soul of the nation needed discipline, and it has come suddenly, sharply, but, who shall dare to say, not mercifully? And even in its very coming it brought a tremendous opportunity, for wewere not compelled to make war, notice that! We had an option. The temptation was subtle. You have no concern withServia, throw over Belgium, let France take care of itself. For a time, probably a very short time, we should have avoided war andits horrors. The bait was held out by some peddling politicians that weshould have stood in a magnificent position to obtain trade, to controlmarkets, to dictate prices to the rest of the world. Magnificentprospect! We went to war, and, by a strange paradox, secured peace withhonour: peace of the national conscience. Had we forsaken Belgium wecould never again have held up our heads among civilised honourablenations. Thus the very circumstances under which the War came aboutformed an appeal to the soul of the nation as embodied in itslegislature; the Government rang true, and the nation, as one man, endorsed its decision. And now the discipline has commenced. Who can be flippant and careless with our coast towns liable tobombardment, and over a hundred lives already sacrificed in this littleisland, which we have always deemed to be the one absolutely secure spotin the whole world? Five months ago an earthquake in London would haveseemed a far more likely event than the bombardment of Hartlepool, Scarborough, Whitby, and the dropping of shells on Yarmouth foreshore, or of bombs at Dover and Southend. Who can be unconcerned when our ships are liable at any moment, andapparently in almost any place, to be sent headlong to the bottom of thesea by torpedoes or mines; possibly sometimes by those very mines wehave been compelled to lay, and which happen to have broken loose? This is one of the unavoidable hazards of war under modern conditions. It does not make us ignore the magnificent work of our Fleet, nortremble for the ultimate issue. Who can be giddy and careless with darkened streets, trains, trams, alltelling of the awful possibilities of the new development of aerialwarfare? Who, even among those not directly touched by anxiety or bereavement, can go on just as usual in luxury, self-indulgence, and ease amid thecrushing mass of suffering around them on all sides? Thank God that, though we may have erred very grievously throughsoftness of living, we are not a callous people, but we needed a strong, stern discipline of the national soul; some stirring and trumpet-tonguedappeal to the national life, and in the righteous mercy of God it hascome. Some of the immediate effects are obvious; but what are the lastingresults to be? The _Guardian_, of a few weeks back, thus soundly comments upon thematter:-- "It is true that the outbreak of war put a sudden end to much that was thoughtless, stupid, and even base in contemporary life. 'Tango teas' and afternoon Bridge among women have receded almost as far into ancient history as dinners at Ranelagh or suppers at Cremorne. But human nature is easily frightened into propriety by a crisis; it is not so easy to maintain the new way of life when the fright is safely over. The things that are amiss in our national life, and above all that lack of seriousness which so many observers have lamented during the last few years, can be amended only by a clear conviction of the inherent unsoundness of our outlook, and a firm determination to rebuild it upon new and more stable foundations. " The soul of the nation needs discipline, and that can only come throughthe effort of the individual to discipline his own life. There is a ceaseless temptation to echo the cry of the disciples inregard to the few loaves and fishes: "What are they among so many?" Of what value or power is my feeble little life among the teemingmillions that go to make up the nation? Put away the thought, for it is a direct temptation of the Devil. It was just when, in the very depths of his human despair, Elijah criedout, "I, I only am left, " that God revealed to him the seven thousandmen who had not bowed the knee to Baal. It was because Athanasius was content to stand _contra mundum_, against the world, that the Catholic faith was preserved to the Church. Let us very seriously examine ourselves as to the use we are making ofour life with regard to other people. We have considered that life, in various details, in respect toourselves, and only incidentally as it affects others, but now let usput away all thought of self. Take the one absolute standard of life as set in the text, "I came downfrom Heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of Him that sent me. " The result was a life entirely devoted, from the first moment to thelast, to one stupendous cause: the lifting up of humanity to the verythrone of God. You and I cannot reach even a fraction of the way towards that perfectstandard; but it is our pattern, our plummet, our measuring-line. Very practically, then, we must ask ourselves such questions as these: What proportion of my time is spent for others? Have I any method of employing time or any stated hours that I give tophilanthropic or religious work; or do I just, in a casual way, letother people have odd moments, when I happen to think of it? Similar questions should be asked as to money. Many people, especiallythose who do not keep accounts (which everyone ought to do), would beshocked if at the end of a year they could see the enormousdisproportion between the vast amount they have frittered away on self, and the pitiful little doles they have handed out in the cause ofcharity. One man, who kept three cars for private use, reduced an already paltryallowance made to a dependent because the price of petrol had gone up! It is not that people cannot give; it is often only that they do notthink. Look at the vast sums being poured into the Relief Funds. Why hasnot some proportion of it gone long ago to Hospitals obliged to closetheir wards, Waifs and Strays Societies compelled to refuse poor littleoutcasts? The money was there; it could have been spared then as well asnow, but it needed some great shock to wake its owners up to the senseof proportion, the realisation of responsibilities. And so in regard to such gifts as music, painting, acting, mechanics, stitchery; even such simple things as reading and writing. Have you everread a book to, or written a letter for, anyone else? We might multiplythese questions indefinitely, but enough has been said to enable usseriously to take in hand the disciplining of the soul, remembering thatthis life of ours is a precious loan entrusted to us by God the Father, redeemed for us by God the Son, sanctified in us by God the Holy Ghost, to be used by us, in due proportion, for our neighbours and ourselves. _For suggested meditations during the week, see Appendix_. IV =The Discipline of the Spirit= THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT St. Luke vi. 12. "He continued all night in Prayer to God. " Last week we looked at the soul as that faculty of life which, to acertain extent, we share with animals; to-day we pass on to consider, under the title of spirit, the higher endowment by which man is enabledto look up and, in the fullest exercise of his whole being, to say"my God. " A man without religion is undeveloped in regard to the highest part ofhis complex nature. In attaining to self-consciousness, and the specialpowers it brings, he has gone one step further than the animal, buthas utterly failed of his true purpose. The supreme object of theself-consciousness, which reveals to him his personality, is that itshould disclose its own origin in the personality of God. One very striking effect of the War has been to produce a vast amount oftestimony to the fact that man is, broadly speaking, religious bynature. The services in the places of worship all over the land have beenmultiplied, intercession is becoming a felt reality, congregations havegrown. It is asserted, by those who have the best means of knowing, that byfar the majority of the letters from the front contain references toreligion, such as acknowledgments of God's providence, prayer for Hishelp, or requests for the prayers of others. Sometimes, in the strangedouble-sidedness of human nature, accompanied by expletives obviouslyprofane. Mention is often made of the bowed heads, and the prayer, inwhich both sides join, at the time of a joint burial during a temporarytruce. All these things show that the deeps of the fountains of naturalreligion have been broken up in wondrous fashion. Our question to-day is: How shall we discipline that spirit whichenables us to realise religion as a fact? Let us try to get to the root of the matter. There are two chief derivations of the word religion. One comes from theverb which means "to go through, or over again, in reading, speech, orthought. " Hence religion is the regular or constant habit of reveringthe gods, and would be represented by the word devotion--an aspect mostimportant to bear in mind. The other derivation, and the more usual, derives religion from the ideaof binding together, and tells of communion between man and God. For usChristians this thought finds its highest ideal and fulfilment in theIncarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. The great characteristic action of religion is prayer; varying in itsmethods and degrees from merely mechanical performances, like thepraying wheels of the Chinese up to the heart devotion of the Christian, poured out when commemorating, in the Holy Communion, the death andresurrection of His Lord. The first essential of any prayer which is to be of value in thediscipline of the spirit is regularity. No words can exaggerate theimportance of morning prayer. Yet, alas! tens of thousands of professingChristians are content with evening prayer alone. The one who goes forthin the morning prayerless is just as ill-equipped to do his duty, andmeet his temptations, as the foodless man is to perform physical work. The whole story of the saintly life, alike in the Old Testament, the NewTestament, and the Church, is that of diligence in prayer. It was topromote that spirit that the Church of Christ, following on the lines ofthe Jewish Church, from very early days adopted special hours for stateddevotions, with the daily offering of the Holy Eucharist linking thewhole system together. The lowest standard to aim at is private prayer morning and evening, midday too if possible, and regular attendances at God's House onSundays and Feast Days. The guiding principle, to be kept ever in mind, is not what my own inclinations suggest, but what the glory of Goddemands. Were this always the case, what magnificent congregations therewould be. Prayer represents a real business of the spirit into which we put thewhole endowment of our being, intellect, memory, emotion, will. Oh! those wandering thoughts, how they do distress us; and just inproportion as we wish to pray and are learning to pray, so we feel ourdeficiencies the more keenly. A few moments before we commence our prayers spent in saying veryquietly, "Thou God seest me, " or "In the name of the Father and of theSon and of the Holy Ghost, " coupled with a simple yet earnest act of therealisation of God's presence, will be of infinite use. The railway train coming into a station does not draw up with a jerk, but gradually slows down. So with us; we cannot come out of our rushinglives all in a moment into the quiet of God's presence; we need to slowdown. But much of the wandering in prayer is the direct result of the habit ofwandering in life. Flitting from one subject, one book, one occupationto another; scrappy reading, talking, thinking; then, as a naturalconsequence, scrappy praying. A great master of the spiritual life usedto say, "You will get far more help in your prayers by leading a moreuseful life, than by making tremendous efforts after concentration whenyou are actually at prayer. " The one who tries to keep alive the habitual sense of God's presencemakes his whole life a prayer, of which the stated devotions only form anatural part. It is comparatively easy for such a one to concentrate histhought and to keep his attention fixed when engaged in his prayers. Just a word or two about books of devotion. They serve a most usefulpurpose, especially in preparation and thanksgiving for Confession orCommunion, but should never be allowed to take the entire place of theChristian's glorious privilege of pleading the "Abba Father, " andspeaking to God in his own words, day by day. Be careful not to use prayers which are manifestly beyond your ownstandpoint or out of harmony with your own feeling. The mere repetitionof phrases that do not represent your inner attitude towards truth onlytends to formality; the effort to force a kind of artificial conformity, because you think you ought to feel this or that, invariably ends inunreality. Given these cautions, devotional books may be of great use, even for regular daily prayer, and often help to call back the thoughtswhich are flying off at a tangent. To speak of discipline without touching upon Confession would be to omitone of its most essential features. Nightly self-examination must beperformed, and that not perfunctorily, but with real intention ofrepentance and strictness of living. Self-examination is nothing morenor less than spiritual account-keeping; without it the man has no realidea of how the business of his soul stands. When it reveals the fact that sin is making headway and the spiritlosing ground, then the wise teaching of the Prayer Book should befollowed; "the grief"--for such it ought to be--opened in Confession toGod, before one of God's ministers, and the benefit of absolutionsecured. Much of the terrible prejudice felt against this practice arises fromthe mistaken idea that the priest professes to forgive us our sins. Thewords of the Absolution in the Visitation of the Sick, in our own PrayerBook, put the matter on its true footing:--"Our Lord Jesus Christ, Whohath left power to His Church to absolve, . .. _forgive_ thee . .. Andby His authority . .. I _absolve_ thee. " The source of all pardon andthe right to exercise it rest in God alone, but the message declaringthe fact is part of the "ministry of reconciliation, " committed, in theinfinite condescension of God, to the "earthen vessels. " An illustrationmay be taken from the pardon of a criminal condemned to death; the HomeSecretary recommends it, but the King, on his sole authority, grants it, and then the message, the _absolvo te_, which lets the man go free, is delivered by the governor of the gaol. Penitents, especially after a first confession at some crisis in maturelife, often bear witness to the fact that it seemed to bring themstraight into the presence of Jesus Christ; to make them feel thereality of His pardoning blood in a way they never could have believedpossible. How strange that the very thing which by so many pious andthoroughly honest souls is dreaded because it is supposed to bring a manin between God and the soul, should yet so often be used by the HolySpirit to give a wondrous and precious vision of Christ the Saviour. Thus far we have spoken only of that kind of occasional Confession whichis obviously contemplated by the Prayer Book; we have no time to dwellon its habitual use. Suffice it to quote some words from the first English Prayer Book:-- "Requiring such as shall be satisfied with a general confession, not to be offended with them that do use, to their further satisfying, the auricular and secret confession to the priest; nor those which think needful or convenient to open their sins to the priest to be offended with them that are satisfied with their humble confession to God, and the general confession to the Church. " That staunch Evangelical Churchman, Bishop Thorold, who was stronglyopposed to habitual Confession in our Communion, once said, "We cannotignore the fact that the giants of old owed much of that saintliness, which we of the present day can only wonder at but cannot reproduce, tothe practice of Confession. " If you should be in doubt about it for yourself, consult somespiritually-minded person who possesses experience in the matter. Not, on the one hand, the man who will tell you that it is the greatest cursethe Church has ever known; nor, on the other, the one who would have itpractised by everybody. Surely for us sober Church folk there must be a loyal middle course, which leaves absolute freedom, so long as the individual "follows andkeeps the rule of charity, and is satisfied with his own conscience. " Last, but most important of all, in the discipline of the spirit comesthe Holy Communion, about which we shall speak next week. As our closing thought, let us go back to what we said just now. Theobject of religion is God's glory, not man's enjoyment. See how thisputs feelings down into their right, and subordinate, place. They aresometimes very delightful, sometimes very depressing, but always liableto be misleading. A great saint of old used to say:--"If God never gaveme another moment of sensible devotion in prayer, I would go on praying, because His glory demands it. " Religion has to do with facts: the facts of what God the Father, God theSon, and God the Holy Ghost have done, and are doing, for us; the factsof what we have to do, to make the finished work of Christ our own. Here, as always, our Lord Himself gives us the highest illustration. Neither as God, nor yet as perfect Man, was there an actual need for Himto pray; yet His whole life was punctuated with prayer: first becausethe glory of the Father required it, and next because His chosenApostles must be taught by example as well as precept. Let the same mind dwell in us. It is for the glory of God that I shouldhave salvation; therefore by the help of God I will discipline myspirit. _For suggested Meditations during the week see Appendix. _ V =Discipline through Obedience= FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT St. Luke xxii. 19 "This do in remembrance of Me. " Our subject of to-day flows quite naturally out of what we said lastweek. Religion rests on facts, and its object is God's glory, not merelyour profit. Our duty, therefore, is an absolute submission to thosefacts--in other words, implicit obedience. This is being illustrated on all sides in regard to the War. The facts are indisputable. Lord Selborne put the matter in a nutshellwhen he said: "The task in front of us is colossal. We are fighting fornothing less than our lives, in circumstances which make it the duty ofevery Englishman to put everything in the world he possesses, everythingthat he values, into the scale to ensure success, and I am sure there isnot one of us, whatever his position, who would flinch in the slightestfrom the duty he owes to his country and to his deepest self. " The response to the facts has been obedience, immediate andunquestioning, on the part of a vast number. True, not all have yet beenreached who ought to come forward, and some are even now crying out forthat compulsory service which may yet prove inevitable. They forget thatthe obedience of one free man is worth more than the forced submissionof many. Let us wait hopefully, energetically; losing no opportunity ofpressing the stern logic of facts wherever we may. And those who have joined the services have come at once under adiscipline totally different from that of the sternest school or thestrictest house of business. The surrender has been made voluntarily, and it has placed the whole life in each detail under the claim of anabsolute obedience. The disposal of every moment of time belongs to the authorities. Theprivate in high social position must obey the orders of a younglance-corporal just as exactly as he expected his own commands to becarried out in his business or his household. Who can estimate the immense development of moral fibre that surely musttake place in succeeding generations from the fact that so vast anumber, in all ranks of society, are now under obedience? Not becausethey were driven to it, but because they embraced it by an initial actof obedience. --Thus they answered, --hoping, fearing, Some in faith, and doubting some, Till a trumpet-voice proclaiming, Said, "My chosen people, come!" Then the drum, Lo! was dumb, For the great heart of the nation throbbing, Answered, "Lord we come. "[2] [Footnote 2: _The Reveille_, Bret Harte. ] Let us apply this thought to the command in our text, "Do this inremembrance of Me. " The facts are undisputed. Our Lord Jesus Christ, inthe tenderness of His compassion, instituted an ordinance by which wemight remember Him and feed upon Him. Further than this we cannot go on the ground of universal consent. Strangely enough, that rite which is the same in its central act, whether celebrated by the nonconformist in his ordinary dress, or thepriest clad in costly vestments, whether in the humble room or thestately cathedral, which is, on the one hand, the well-nigh universalmark of all who profess and call themselves Christians, is yet thebattle-ground of fierce dispute and bitter disagreement. The present crisis is undoubtedly deepening in our minds the exceedingvalue of this blessed gift of Christ to His Church. It is deeply suggestive of the spirit of our young officers that a groupof old public-school boys, just about to leave for the front, shouldhave begged their late schoolmaster--now a Bishop--to give them aCelebration of Holy Communion in his own private Chapel on their lastSunday in England. What a beautiful send-off! Then, turning to the scene of operations itself, we find a touchingwitness in the simple record sent by Admiral Sir John Jellicoe to hisbrother at Southampton. "We spent our Christmas Day waiting for theGermans, who did not appear. But we managed to find time for church andfor three celebrations of Holy Communion, although the whole time wewere cleared for action and the men were at their guns. " Who can contemplate unmoved that spectacle of the men, not gathered inthe peaceful security of the House of God, but out upon the ocean, expecting attack, realising the possible nearness of the end, leavingtheir guns but for the moment, then back again, strengthened for life ordeath by the sacred Body and Blood. Or take the witness of Rev. E. R. Day, one of our Senior Army Chaplainsserving with the Expeditionary Force. While home on a few days' leave hepreached at Lichfield Cathedral, and, touching upon the efficacy ofprayer, testified how enormously it was valued by our soldiers nowserving at the front. The Holy Communion was especially appreciated. OnChristmas Day there were no fewer than seven hundred communicants fromone regiment and four hundred from another, and the service was held ina ploughed field with a packing-case for an altar. He had conductedthese services sometimes in the back-parlour of a public-house, in astable, in a loft, in a lean-to shed, and in the open; anywhere, infact, where room could be found. Out on the battlefield there was hardlyany need for a compulsory parade service; the men had only to hear thata service was to be held and they would crowd to it. Most of the reasons given by those who stop away from Communion centrein self. "I am not worthy. " Of course not, nor is the priest who celebrates, noris any member of the congregation. We sadly misread that caution of S. Paul about receiving "unworthily. " Let us take a homely illustration. Our good Queen Victoria was very fondof visiting cottagers in the Highlands and reading the Scriptures tothem. You can imagine how one of them might say, "I am not worthy ofsuch an honour; this little place is so poor and mean. " Quite true, yetshe could tidy up the home, mend her frock, make everything neat andclean, so as to receive the Queen "worthily. " Until you realise thefact-- "I am not worthy, gracious Lord, " you will never receive Him worthily. No one who examines himself, confesses his sins, and firmly purposes to amend, ever yet came toCommunion unworthily. "I don't feel inclined to come. " Because you have not realised in itsfull meaning two facts: yourself as a great sinner, Christ as a greatSaviour. Feelings have nothing to do with duty. If they had, our armywould be about half the size it is. Do you suppose that all those whoare joining the Services like leaving home, wife, friends, comforts?Feelings have been sacrificed to facts. "I'm too great a sinner. " Then you are not fit to die. Repent, turn tothe Saviour, and then in His holy ordinance you will find the verystrength you need to keep you from falling back. "I have such terrible temptations. " So we all have, priest and peoplealike. Temptations are not sins; they are the enemies on thebattlefield, and if you never meet them, you--the Christian soldierenlisted at your Baptism--will never have the chance of winning avictory. The one who stays away from Communion because of temptations orsins, which he is really trying to resist, is like the sick man wholooks at the bottle of medicine and says, "I will take it when I getwell. " "So many communicants are hypocrites. " That shows that you know enoughabout the Christian life to be able to judge your fellow creatures. Areyou making things any better by neglecting your duty? "I have got an enemy. " Have you honestly tried to be reconciled; are youwilling to forgive and bury the past? "Yes, but he is not. " All the moreneed then for you to come to the Communion and pray for his heart to bechanged. It was said of one great saint that some people might never have had theblessing of his prayers for them but that they were his enemies. All these excuses centre in self. They could not do otherwise, for noone has ever yet found in Christ any reason why they should stay awayfrom Him. Obedience forms so large a part of discipline--nay, is almost identicalwith discipline--because it takes us out of self. Our Lord Who has bidden us "do this" knows exactly what is best for us. In putting aside feelings, fancies, unworthy scruples, and castingourselves unreservedly upon His boundless mercy, we shall taste of thetreasures of His grace and be satisfied. One important part of the discipline of this obedience is making aspecial and very careful preparation before, and thanksgiving after, each Communion. Preparation which consists first of all of real self-examination andrepentance, using fearlessly the "ministry of reconciliation" whennecessary, and then of special prayers which help to put us into theattitude of hopeful, grateful anticipation. Thanksgiving; definite prayers and praises, continued for a day or two, unless we are very frequent communicants, so that we may lose none ofthe preciousness of the blessing by our own forgetfulness oringratitude. In this, as we said last week, books can _help_, but that is all;they cannot make the preparation or the thanksgiving for us. Early Communion, quite apart from the doctrinal question of fastingreception, is a useful feature of the discipline of obedience. It is acustom which comes from primitive times, and is universal in the greaterpart of the Catholic Church. To give the early hours of the day to our Blessed Lord is surely more inaccordance with what His great love requires than to choose our own timeand come when it suits us best: that is when it requires less effort andself-denial, and when our minds have been distracted by the cares of theadvancing day. The coming on of old age or sickness may necessarily debar us from theprivilege and joy of early Communion, but, while we can, let us make themost of the blessed morning hours, when in all the freshness of ournewly awakened life we draw near to Him Who ceaselessly watches over us. The question is often asked: "How often ought I to receive the HolyCommunion?" The answer depends upon so large a number of considerationsthat no general rules can possibly be given. Spiritual capacities varyinfinitely. One broad principle we can lay down: Do not receive so often that youbegin to neglect preparation and thanksgiving. Better by far sixCommunions a year, which have meant real, living intercourse betweenyourself and your Saviour, than a weekly one which has degenerated intoa perfunctory form. It is to be remembered that there is nothing to prevent your attendingthe service whenever you wish, joining in the praises and prayers, eventhough for some good reason you are not going to receive. But, whatever your custom may be, have a rule about your times ofreceiving, and keep to it strictly. Aim at regularity for your own sake. One of the greatest causes ofmany of the obscure modern complaints is the irregularity of meals, consequent upon the exacting conditions of life. Precisely so, muchsickness of spirit springs from the careless way in which the chiefspiritual food is treated. People go to the Holy Communion when theyfeel inclined, instead of according to a fixed rule, modifying the rule, just as they would in the case of their meals, by circumstances whichmay arise; spiritual sickness might dictate abstention from Communionfor a while, just as bodily disease might require a period of fasting. Be regular for others' sake. The consistent example of the communicantwho lets neither weather nor inclination interfere with duty exercisesan influence far wider than he could imagine possible. Be regular for Christ's sake, in grateful recognition of that tenderlove which has given us the highest privilege of the Christian life. Surely never is our Lord more satisfied in seeing of the travail of Hissoul than when His faithful ones are gathered before His Holy Table, worshipping Him in the tremendous reality of His spiritual presence, feeding upon Him in the mystery of His Body and His Blood. Thus out of our obedience to the great "Do this" comes discipline of thehighest kind. That discipline which is ever putting self in thebackground, ever exalting the person and the work of Christ. Then follows the reward, never attained by those who in self-interestseek it, only poured forth upon such as are content to lose their lifein finding it, "He that eateth Me, even he shall live by Me. " _For suggested Meditations during the week see Appendix. _ VI =The Discipline of Sorrow= FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT Revelations vii. 14 "These are they who came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. " Two considerations only can throw any light on the dark mystery ofsuffering, the problem which has baffled the intellect, the perplexitywhich has torn the heart of mankind from the dawn of conscious life--"Ibelieve that Jesus Christ was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the VirginMary, and was made man"; "I believe in the life of the world to come. " The two thoughts blend in our text with a harmony of illumination which, though it does not solve the problem, renders it less dark. Only in the light of another world, where the seed sown here shall bearwondrous fruit, can we even begin to reconcile the existence ofsuffering with the goodness of Almighty God. If there be no hereafter, then indeed suffering must be the work of a vengeful tyrant rejoicing incruelty, or of a fatalistic machine grinding out its foreordainedconsequences. What we require is some comprehensive plan which will knit togetherpast, present, future in one great purpose of progress towards ultimateperfection, which will guarantee not only _an_ existence hereafter, but will render that existence personal, conscious, capable of thehighest development. We find this in the Incarnation, the eternal purpose of God the Father, formed in the eternity of _the past_, that His Son should take ourhuman flesh. This plan is working itself out in _the present_ by the power ofGod the Holy Ghost, through the life of the great Church of Christ, militant and expectant. It stretches forth into the future, with regard to which we haveparables, promises, visions, warnings, all pointing to a continuouslyprogressive growth till the perfect manifestation of the Kingdom ofChrist be reached. Thus the Incarnation supplies the unifying principle, and in its lightwe catch some ray of hope on the dark problem of suffering. In consequence of sin our Lord was a sufferer, even in some mysterioussense was "made perfect through suffering" (Heb. Ii. 10). The climax came in the "full, perfect, and complete sacrifice, oblation, and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world" made upon the Cross. It is suggestive that these words should occur in the ConsecrationPrayer of the Holy Communion Service, as if to remind us that our truespiritual and commemorative sacrifice draws all its validity, power, andpreciousness from the one offering of Christ made by Himself in Hisdeath. Thus we see that most essential act for our salvation was not one ofvictory, triumph, or glory, as the world reckons these things. Oh, no!It was one of absolute self-surrender, involving untold anguish of souland body. The results of the sufferings of our Lord have justified theirtremendous cost. Its efficacy consisted not in the physical pains, but in the entireyielding up of the will. Thus it represents for us that victory overself which is the only path to eternal life. But this victory, even now in these emphatically feather-bed days, isalways more or less painful. In the early times it meant persecution, poverty, isolation, death, for the sake of Jesus Christ. It is always so; the greatest deeds the world has ever known, nationally, or individually, have been wrought out by suffering; becausesuffering, more than any other agent, deepens character. Look around among your friends and acquaintances. Who are the morallystrongest? To whom do you turn in your times of difficulty, doubt, trouble? Not to those whose lives have been easy, to whom the lines havefallen in pleasant places, to whom success has come without effort! No!You turn to the one who has fought his way through the doubt, thedifficulty, the trouble, and you find a tower of strength. There is thesecret of Charles Kingsley's power as a counsellor; once he did notbelieve that there was a God; he went through the agonies of doubt. There is the secret of the wondrous force of Archbishop Temple. Rough, rugged, almost discourteous at times; hating shams and penetratingthem with an unerring instinct, but tenderness itself to the reallydistressed. He knew what it was as a lad to do field labour in poorclothes and with insufficient food. In later years, when up at College, he was wont to study by the light in the passage, because he could notafford oil for his own lamp. Yet another illustration, showing the directly spiritual influenceof suffering--those countless cases of bed-ridden invalids, often inintense pain, who develop an intense, fervent, yet restful piety, seldomattained even by the most devout in active life. Those who have had experience in missions or dealing with individualsouls know how constantly suffering--especially in middle life--lays thefoundations of conversion. Ay, and lays them strong and deep. The soulin trouble feels its need of God, turns to Him, and then gets to knowthe fulness of His mercy, even in and through the affliction. And now, how stands it in regard to the War? We need not repeat indetail those various points on which we have already dwelt. Spite ofall the ghastly sufferings the War is bringing in its train, nay, in asense, because of them, it has linked together the Empire in the closestbonds, allayed political and polemical strife, evoked a wealth ofheroism, self-sacrifice, prayer, and benevolence, and braced up themoral fibre of countless lives. Yet all this does not explain the existence of suffering, the why andthe wherefore still lie hidden in that region of the infinite which we, finite beings, cannot penetrate. We can see, from its results, thatsuffering is no more incompatible with the eternal love of God, than thesurgeon's knife is inconsistent with the tenderness of his heart. "Whomthe Lord loveth He chasteneth, " "God dealeth with you as with sons"(Heb. Xii. , 6, etc. ). Our great mistake is to look upon trouble aspunishment, inflicted by an angry God, and to rebel under the chasteninghand. When God sees that His child, whether the nation or theindividual, needs discipline He sends it, and there is no more lack oflove than there is on the part of the wise earthly parent, when hecorrects his child and makes him suffer pain. Nay, it is the very lovethat prompts the discipline. Once more, let us look at suffering in its power of producing sympathy. The Incarnation was the greatest act of sympathy the world has everknown. The Word made flesh, our Saviour born as a babe, that He mightenter into all the experiences of our human nature; that He might notsimply feel _for_ us, but feel _with_ us. Here is the essence of the word; take it in Latin, compassion; take itin Greek, sympathy--alike it means feeling with. And in the wondrousmystery of the Church, the spiritual body of Christ, the same greatprinciple is still working itself out. Very strange, very mysterious, yet real with the essence of reality, isthe connection between the suffering Christ and the suffering Church, "inasmuch as ye have ministered to one of the least of these Mybrethren, ye have done it unto Me. " And yet it is the Christ Who helpsand sustains us from on high. The same Christ Who was here upon earth, suffering in His martyr Stephen was yet standing at the Father's righthand to succour him. The same Christ Who flashed the wondrous vision of Himself on the eyesof S. Paul, was yet so intimately present in and with His infant Churchthat he "thundered" forth the question, "Saul, Saul, why persecutestthou Me?" It is just this thought of Christ still present in the person of Hissuffering children, that gives the glow of enthusiasm to philanthropicwork of a definitely Christian character. But may we not go a stepfurther and try to see Christ, in a measure, in all suffering, even thatof the animals? He came to redeem the world, and we in our little vieware apt to narrow down the purposes, and limit the possibilities withinvery contracted lines. The War is opening up to us opportunities boundless in their characterand scope. Probably to-day tens of thousands who have hitherto spentaimless lives; whose time, means, gifts have gone in the shallow channelof self, now know something at least of the joy of launching out on tothe broad stream of living, loving sympathy. This has been because, though in some instances unconsciously to themselves, Christ, in thepower of His Holy Spirit, has touched their lives. If anguish has come to our hearts let it work its discipline upon us inand through Christ, by the opening out of ourselves to Him, that we maytake in the full measure of His priceless sympathy. Let us try to loseourselves in ministering to others, one of the surest anodynes for griefand pain. But if we have, as yet, passed unscathed, let us be all the morediligent, tender, and loving in our care for others. There is no need to go into details. Wherever your lot be cast you haveonly just to look around and you will find there are individuals, wivesat home, soldiers at the front, whose lot you can brighten in verysimple yet very real ways; perhaps institutions, such as Red CrossHomes, Hospitals, Belgian Hostels, to which you can render practicalservice; Funds to which you can send your money; all these are meansthrough which you may enter into the glorious discipline of opportunitythat comes through suffering. Have you ever thought how infinitely poorer the world would be in allthat is highest and purest in its life, were there no suffering to callforth the tender ministry of sympathy? And now let us summarise what we have been saying. Suffering is agreat mystery, but two facts throw light upon it--the hereafter, theIncarnation; suffering does discipline character, therefore, judging byresults, it is not incompatible with the love of God, even though itsexistence be still a problem; suffering presents us with the splendidpossibility of sympathy, to be exercised in the power of the lovingChrist. Can we close better than with the thought of the saints in Paradise? On earth they lived in the always realised consciousness of a personalChrist. When the Apostles were persecuted and beaten, they departed fromthe Council "rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer shame forHis name. " So it has been all down the long story of the ages. And thesaints are those "who have washed their robes and made them white in theblood of the Lamb"; their sufferings sanctified by, and borne in, thepower of Him Who was made perfect by the things which He endured. Their"light affliction, which was but for a moment, has worked out for themthe exceeding abundant and eternal weight of glory. " Thus the Incarnation, the eternal counsel of the past, that embracedthem while they were on earth, is still enfolding them, while they, with us, wait and pray for its final consummation, in the coming ofthe Kingdom. Let us so use our opportunities for discipline now, that the upliftingof character shall be permanent; not a mere spasm of passing enthusiasm, but a real growth into the character and likeness of Him Who suffereddeath upon the Cross, that all might live unto Him. _For suggested Meditations during the week see Appendix. _ VII =Discipline through Bereavement= SIXTH SUNDAY IN LENT 1 Thess. Iv. 13 "We would not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them that fall asleep; that ye sorrow not, even as the rest, which have no hope. " Of all kinds of sorrow, bereavement is in some senses the sternest, the most irrevocable, and the one in which human compassion is ofleast avail. All that we said last week on the discipline of suffering applies here, but with enhanced force. If suffering generally cannot be rationallycontemplated outside of the doctrine of a future existence, still lesscan death be tolerated unless it lead to further life. If sorrow in thebulk needs the Incarnation to throw upon it the light of God's love, still more does this particular grief require the assurance that thefinished work of Christ operates within, as well as without, the vail. Broadly speaking, all over the world there are torn and bleeding heartsmourning the nearest, the dearest; in the vast majority of instances, from the circumstances of the case, men in the beginning or the veryprime of life. The heroism of the women has been as magnificent as that of themen--nay, in a sense, more so. For those who go forth there is thenovelty, the excitement, the nerving sense of duty. Their time is soceaselessly occupied that but little space remains for brooding or foranxious thought, on behalf of themselves or those at home. The men whoremain behind, the fathers, brothers, friends, have the priceless boonof daily occupation, often vastly increased in amount. There is no suchinfallible anodyne of care as plenty of honest work. But the women--theirs is the harder task, the fiercer trial, of keepingup the brave appearance, the show of cheerfulness, whilst all the timethe load of apprehension and fear lies heavy on their hearts. None willever know the crushing reality of the offering the women are making totheir country, in one great stream of self-sacrifice. Nor can we forecast the end, nor estimate the claims that are yet to bemade in the cause of patriotism. The nations engaged, at least the chiefof them, are fixed irrevocably in their determination that peace, whenit comes, shall be no temporary patching up of hostilities and arrangingof indemnities, but a solid, lasting settlement, which shall, as far aspossible, place another vast European war out of the range of practicalpolitics. To tens of thousands there has come the ceaseless yearning for The touch of a vanished hand, The sound of a voice that is still. Now notice how S. Paul deals with the matter. "That ye sorrow not asothers which have no hope. " There is no injunction here not to sorrowat all; that would be contrary to human nature, and would bespeakcallousness rather than resignation. Our Blessed Lord wept at the graveof Lazarus, and in so doing sanctified human grief. The keenest faith, to which the other world is an absolute reality; the fullest hope of thesure and certain resurrection for the dear one; the most disciplined andsubmissive will which accepts unquestioningly the dispensations of theFather; all these are not proof against the natural grief at the removalof a loved one from this sphere of tender intimacies, into another, where we can only commune with him in thought and prayer. How often this is illustrated at the death of a chronic invalid who hassuffered much. With tears streaming down the cheeks, the mourner willsay, "I am so thankful he is at rest. " No selfish, rebellious side ofgrief is exhibited by those tears; only human sorrow, blending in lovingharmony with perfect resignation. Now notice carefully the ground on which S. Paul bases the Christian'shope for the departed; first, faith in the death and resurrection ofChrist; "if we believe that Jesus died and rose again. " It is a mereplatitude to say that the whole of S. Paul's teaching is founded on theactuality of the resurrection. "If Christ hath not been raised, yourfaith is vain; ye are yet in your sins. Then they also which are fallenasleep in Christ have perished. If in this life only we have hoped inChrist, we are of all men most miserable" (1 Cor. Xv. 17). Then out ofthis fact of the resurrection flows a consequence: the dead, as we callthem, "sleep in Jesus, " and will be His immediate companions at the lastday. We cannot enter into a discussion as to the exact conditions ofwhat is called "Hades" or the "intermediate state"; suffice it to saythat one great feature of it is nearness to Jesus, "having a desire todepart and be with Christ" (Phil. I. 23); "absent from the body, presentwith the Lord" (2 Cor. V. 8). Herein consists the blessed hope setbefore us in regard to the faithful departed; the crucified, risen, ascended Jesus has them in His keeping; we and they alike are parts ofthe one great Church, knit into the "Communion of Saints" by the mysticbond of the sacred bread, linked each to the other by mutual prayer;they for us and we for them. Very beautifully and tenderly does the Archbishop of Canterbury dealwith this thought in one of his late sermons:-- "As with bowed head and quivering lip we commend their souls into the hands of a faithful Creator and most merciful Saviour we feel how the very passing of those brave and buoyant lives into the world beyond pierces the flimsy barrier between the things which are seen and temporal and the things which are unseen and eternal, and again we can and do give thanks. God is not the God of the dead, but of the living:-- "Nor dare to sorrow with increase of grief When they who go before Go furnished, or because their span was brief. For doubt not but that in the worlds above There must be other offices of love, That other tasks and ministries there are, Since it is promised that His servants there Shall serve him still. Therefore be strong, be strong, Ye that remain, nor fruitlessly revolve, Darkling, the riddles which ye cannot solve, But do the works that unto you belong. " Here is the magnificent prospect of hope for those who mourn: thatthe Incarnation of our Lord is still working itself out in all itsbeneficent purposes. By the power of the Holy Ghost, in the Churchexpectant as in the Church militant, the answer to the constant prayer, "Thy Kingdom come, " is being ceaselessly given; and the fulness thereofwill be realised in the Church triumphant. The saints on earth and thosein Paradise are equally in the hands of the Lord, though the latter haveclearer vision and nearer sense of the fact than the former. By somethis is used as an argument against the practice of prayer for thedeparted, but surely this thought of the unity of the whole body leadsin exactly the opposite direction. No argument can be adduced againstthis most ancient and primitive custom, observed by the Jews long beforethe coming of Christ, but what equally applies to any petition for anabsent friend still on earth. In each case they are in the keeping ofHim Who knows best and will do right, yet for those still here we pray, believing that in His own way God will take account of our prayers andknit them up into His own dealings, so that they become part of Hiseternal purposes. When commending the departed to Him, naturally ourwords will be chastened and restrained because we know somewhat less ofthe conditions of the "intermediate state" than we do of those of ourown dispensation. Somewhat less; for how little do we really understandof the circumstances around us now in all their bearings as they lieopen beneath the eye of God. Therefore it is that whenever we pray wemust ask in full submission to our own limitations and in the spirit ofthe Master, "Nevertheless not my will, but Thine be done. " Thank God this matter is not one of argument; no, it lies in anotherplane: the innate feeling of one who really knows what prayer means andwho has grasped in some degree the doctrine of the "Communion ofSaints. " A pious evangelical, well fortified with arguments against prayer forthe departed, had been nursing her sick sister and taking care of thelittle daughter of the house. The sister died, and the same eveningthe motherless girl knelt down at her aunt's side to say her prayers. "Auntie, may I say God bless dear mother?" The whole drift of the aunt'straining and theology would have led her to say "No" point blank. Therewas no time for argument or explanation, for facing the inevitable "Ifnot, why not?" The instincts of natural religion prevailed; the auntreplied, "Yes, dear"; and from that day onward never failed herself tosay, when remembering her dear ones, "God bless my sister. " Whatever the effect of such prayers in the other world, there is noshade of doubt that to the bereaved they bring an infinite sense ofnearness to their beloved, and of the reality of the life of the worldto come. Thus far we have been speaking of those who may fairly be called thefaithful departed, the cases in which hope may be reasonable and assuredalmost to certainty. Now let us go a step further. The mind staggers as it contemplates thetens of thousands being hurried into eternity who, either according tothe teaching of the Catholic Church or the notions of popular theology, would be deemed unprepared. We trust, in a dim sort of way, that the all-embracing mercy of Godwill accept their sacrifice of themselves for their country, and insome fashion place it to the credit side of their account. No doubtHe will. But can we not get a more evangelical, and at the same timemore catholic, view of the matter? We find it in an extension of ourconception of the possibilities of the intermediate state, the conditionof souls between death and judgment. Evangelical to the backbone, because it is the work of Christ which we conceive of as being therecarried on. Catholic, because the Church from very early times hasrecognised the idea of the discipline of souls as being a processcontinued after death. The authority of S. Paul has been appealed to onaccount of his words to the Philippians (i. 6), "being confident of thisvery thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it untilthe day of Jesus Christ"; and to the Corinthians in that mysteriouspassage concerning "the fire which shall try every man's work" (1 Cor. Iii. 13). The doctrine was developed and materialised till it resultedin those corruptions which were so largely responsible for theReformation. In their zeal to root out error, the Reformers fell intothe opposite extreme and abolished the idea of the intermediate statealtogether. Hence arose the popular notion, unknown to the CatholicChurch till then, of Heaven or Hell as the immediate issue of death. Of course, the Church's teaching had regard to the condition of its ownmembers after death, and we cannot press it into an argument as to thosenot dying, technically, in a state of grace; but at least this much wemay say: Surely no intelligent person can contemplate the thought ofthese vast hosts being hurried off into eternal perdition, and at thesame time retain his reason or his faith in a God of love. Whatever thepossibilities of the world to come, they are but the extension of theboundless love of God in Christ, and hold out no promise for us if wewilfully neglect our day of grace. But now to pass on to one further source of consolation which comesin its measure to all the bereaved alike; the chastened joy from thethought of the splendid sacrifice the dear one has been privilegedto make. Take an illustration--a letter from Major-General Allenby to Lady deCrespigny on the death of her son:-- "Dear Lady de Crespigny, --I and the whole of the Cavalry Division sympathise with you, and we feel deeply for Norman's loss. But I must tell you that he died a hero's death. The brigade was hotly engaged, and on the Bays fell the brunt of the fighting on September 1st. Norman, with a few men, was holding an important tactical point, and he held it till every man was killed or wounded. No man could have done more, few would have done so much. "With deepest sympathy, yours sincerely, "E. H. H. Allenby. " How the bereaved hearts in the midst of crushing grief must have lit upwith gladness at such a record as that! But to close. The discipline of bereavement consists essentially in thetrial of faith, yet at the same time brings with it the power of faith. In bereavement, above all other forms of sorrow, comes the felt need ofGod; it has been so with countless souls. The answer to the need is therevelation that God makes of Himself in Christ; then comes the peace ofGod, which passeth all understanding, which dries the tears and healsthe broken heart. _Note_. --The question of prayer in connection with God's foreknowledgeis so admirably treated in "Some Elements of Religion" (Liddon) that weappend an extract:-- "What if prayers and actions, to us at the moment perfectly spontaneous, are eternally foreseen and included within the all-embracing Predestination of God, as factors and causes, working out that final result which, beyond all dispute, is the product of His Good Pleasure? "Whether I open my mouth or lift my hand is, before my doing it, strictly within the jurisdiction and power of my personal will: but however I may decide, my decision, so absolutely free to me, will have been already incorporated by the All-seeing, All-controlling Being as an integral part, however insignificant, of His one all-embracing purpose, leading on to effects and causes beyond itself. Prayer, too, is only a foreseen action of man which, together with its results, is embraced in the eternal Predestination of God. To us this or that blessing may be strictly contingent on our praying for it; but our prayer is nevertheless so far from necessarily introducing change into the purpose of the Unchangeable, that it has been all along taken, so to speak, into account by Him. If, then, with 'the Father of Lights' there is in this sense 'no variableness, neither shadow of turning, ' it is not therefore irrational to pray for specific blessings, as we do in the Litany, because God works out His plans not merely in us but by us; and we may dare to say that that which is to us a free self-determination, may be not other than a foreseen element of His work. " _For suggested Meditations during the week see Appendix. _ VIII =Discipline through Self-sacrifice= GOOD FRIDAY 1 Tim. Ii. 6 "Christ Jesus, Who gave Himself a ransom for all. " To-day we reach the solemn climax which embraces in itself the wholeidea of discipline under each of those aspects upon which we havetouched. Will, body, soul, spirit, obedience, suffering, death, allsummed up in the tremendous self-sacrifice declared by the Cross ofChrist. The principle of sacrifice is one of those deep mysteries which seem, as it were, to be rooted in the very nature of our being. It beginsin the initial fact by which man's existence is maintained uponearth--motherhood, a vast vicarious sacrifice. Yet borne with gratitude, readiness, ay, even with joy because of the dignity, the love, thedelights it brings with it. One of the surest signs of the decadenceof a nation is when its women, through desire of merely living forthemselves, begin to rebel against the high privilege of motherhood, orto neglect the duties it should entail. This attitude of mind poisonslife at its fountain-head. Time would fail us, nor indeed would it be profitable, to enter upon adiscussion as to the exact theological bearing of the death of Christupon the forgiveness of sins. This is a matter which may rightly occupythe attention of theologians and scholars who endeavour, so far asinfinite verities can be expressed in finite language, to give a reasonfor the hope that is in them. Such books as Liddon's Bampton Lectures, Dale on the Atonement, or Illingworth on Personality, will be found mostvaluable by those who have the time and the capacity for studying them. It is a good thing, especially in these days, that the intellect of theChristian should be well-equipped, so that he may silence the taunts ofthose who say Christianity is purely a matter of emotion. The personal acceptance of Christ as a personal Saviour rests, not somuch on arguments, as on a sense of need; when this is accompanied bystrong intellectual grip of truth then the influence of the Christianupon others becomes a great missionary factor. The beauty of the Gospelstory lies in its wonderful adaptability. It is the same in its power toa Pascal, a Butler, a Liddon, as it is to the unlettered peasant, whocan neither read nor write. Scripture declares quite plainly that the death of Christ was "for us";how far this may be pressed to mean "instead of us" is a very gravequestion. The words will bear that interpretation, no doubt, but we mustremember that they do not necessarily involve any more than "in ourbehalf, " that is, for our benefit. It has been the forcing of the words into an unnatural and immoraltheory of substitution, the notion of an angry God claiming a victim, that has done such terrible harm to the cause of Christianity, and hasled many thoughtful minds to give it up in disgust or despair. Probablyin a wise commingling of the two lines of thought we shall arrive mostnearly at the truth. We all agree that our Blessed Lord's death was "inbehalf of us"; that is for our everlasting welfare; in a very real sensethis was "instead of us, " since His sufferings were endured so that wemight not lose the blessing of salvation. Very beautifully is the matter summed up by a modern writer: "In thedeath of the Lord Jesus Christ as a Sacrifice and Propitiation for thesins of the world, the moral perfections of God find their highestexpression, and the deepest necessities of man's moral and spirituallife their only complete satisfaction. "[3] [Footnote 3: Dale on the Atonement. ] The death of Christ was not only typically but, in a certain sense, actually the offering up of our bodies on the Cross. Notice verycarefully the words of St. Paul, "I have been crucified with Christ"(Gal. Ii. , 20 R. V. ). Not simply, as in the old Authorised Version, "I am crucified with Christ, " but something much more definite and exact. When Christ ascended the Cross He took up with Him our human naturecollectively, as bound up in Himself by virtue of His Incarnation. Henceit follows that you, the individual, have been crucified with Him; justas you, the individual, have been buried with Him, and raised with Himin your Baptism (Rom. Vi. , 4). How completely this takes the sting outof the reproach brought against Christianity, on the ground of theimmorality of the Crucifixion! It is no longer the Innocent onesuffering instead of the guilty, but it is the sinless One taking uponHimself human nature, with all its guilt and consequent punishment, and"in His own body on the tree, " offering that human nature up to God. Hein us, we in Him, that the redemption of human nature may be complete. Canon Liddon thus puts it in one of his University sermons, "Thesubstitution of the suffering Christ arose directly out of the terms ofthe Incarnation. The human nature which our Lord assumed was none otherthan the very nature of the sinner, only without its sin. Therefore Hebecomes the Redeemer of our several persons, because He is already theRedeemer of this our common nature, which He has made for ever His own. " We have already noticed that it was not the sufferings of Christ whichwere acceptable to God the Father. To think this would be to fall backinto the very crudest and most repulsive idea of substitution. No, itwas the offering up of the will of Christ that formed the essence of thesacrifice. If we may presume to attempt a mere earthly illustration ofso tremendous a matter, let us take the case of a General whose sonmeets with a terrible death while leading a forlorn hope. The father'sheart is torn with anguish both for the death and the circumstances ofit; but at the same time the father's heart swells with pride, ay, evenwith joy, that his son should have been true to the highest thing in theworld--duty. He Who said, "I come not to do mine own will but the will of Him thatsent Me, " also said, "I lay My life down of Myself, no man taketh itfrom Me. " Herein is the discipline of sacrifice complete by the usingof one's own will to surrender it absolutely to the will of another. We have spoken so fully of the surrenders of will being made on allsides that we need say no more now on that point, but for furtherillustration let us turn our thoughts in a somewhat fresh direction. The example of Belgium is a living witness of the power ofself-sacrifice. G. K. Chesterton has put forth a striking pamphlet entitled "TheMartyrdom of Belgium"; in it he says: "There are certain quite unique and arresting features about the case of Belgium. To begin with, it cannot be too much considered what a daring stroke of statesmanship--far-sighted, perhaps, but of frightful courage--the King of the Belgians ventured in resisting at all. Of that statesmanship we had the whole advantage, and Belgium the whole disadvantage: she saved France, she saved England--herself she could not save. " Had Belgium yielded instead of standing out, then, humanly speaking, nothing could have averted the immediate success of the German dashfor Paris. Now think for one moment of the solemn obligation this lays upon us inregard to that gallant, struggling, yet temporarily dismembered littlenation. We must look after the refugees. There are those who say, "TheGovernment have brought the Belgians over here, let the Government maketheir support a State matter. " One almost blushes to have to deal with such a sentiment. Could1_s. _ in the £ income-tax take the place, morally, spiritually, orethically, of the rich profusion of voluntary aid now being pouredforth? The loss to the nation, of that which is purest and noblest inits life, would be simply unspeakable. It is suffering that providesopportunity for the exercise of the highest duty known to man, "Bear yeone another's burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ. " Try to pictureto yourself, quietly yet resolutely, what it would mean to you to-morrowmorning, to find suddenly that you had to leave your house, not in amotor-car for a railway train; no! but to turn out at once, without timeto put together any belongings; to tramp, perhaps in pouring rain, alongmiles of road, foodless, cold, exhausted; seeing those around youdropping out to faint or die by the wayside; not knowing where or howthe journey should end. This is what has happened to tens of thousandsof Belgians; many, cultured and refined, coming forth penniless fromhomes of comfort and plenty! In ministering to the needs of the Belgians you find a gloriousprivilege, a priceless opportunity. Again, to quote G. K. Chesterton: "In a sense Belgium could still have saved her face; but she preferred to save Europe. This, it seems to me, gives her a claim on something beyond pity or even gratitude--a claim on our intellectual honour beyond anything that even suffering could extort. " Our Lent is nearly over. With all its opportunities, its calls, its privileges, it is now behind us. Some perhaps began it with highresolves and brave hopes, and are disappointed at the apparently smallresults. None, we trust, are wholly satisfied with themselves, for thatwould point to a condition far worse than despair. There is such a thingas divine discontent, and every true Christian should know something ofit. For all the conscious failures ask pardon, but do not give upstriving. Standing under the Cross of Christ, as we do to-day, we have a standardfor the measuring of ourselves which makes our little efforts atdiscipline look very poor indeed. Yet He remembers our frame, He knowswhereof we are made; He can and will accept the feeblest struggles ofour will towards His. Perhaps some progress in the life of grace mayhave been made, then thank Him and take courage. Let us just cast our minds back. The discipline of the will means, laying ourselves open to listen to the voice of the living God. Thediscipline of the body means, never letting it get the upper hand of thereal self. The discipline of the soul means the taking a very seriousview of the responsibility of life. The discipline of the spirit means, a close approach to God by every channel of worship. The discipline ofobedience means, that we put self in the background, so that we mayexalt the person of Christ. The discipline of sorrow means, that Christis still present in His suffering ones, and there is our opportunity. The discipline of bereavement means, the trial of our faith that it mayenter into the realities of the spiritual kingdom. Then comes the crown and climax, the discipline of self-sacrifice. Place steadily before you the thought of Christ crucified, see there theculmination of all possibility of the offering up of self for others. No element of completeness was wanting. The sacrifice was voluntary, was made for enemies, brought no return to self. Strong in His strength go forth ready to spend and be spent, if only bythe discipline of self-sacrifice you can lighten the load borne by anyone of your fellow-creatures. What hast Thou done for me, O Mighty Friend, Who lovest to the end? Reveal Thyself that I may now behold Thy love unknown, untold, Bearing the curse and made a curse for me That blessed and made a blessing I might be. Wounded for my transgressions, stricken sore, That I might sin no more, Weak, that I might be always strong in Thee: Bound, that I might be free; Acquaint with grief that I might only know Fulness of joy, in everlasting flow. * * * * * _For suggested Meditations during the week see Appendix. _ IX =Discipline through Victory= EASTER DAY Romans vi. 9 "Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more. " To couple the word discipline with victory may seem incongruous almostto the point of impossibility. Yet, if we look below the surface, weshall see that never is the connection more strong and the need forrealising it more urgent. Lent is over, its special discipline has passed, and now the dangerbegins. The danger is lest any progress made, any victory won, shouldlead to that self-confidence which can only end in disaster. Success isoften a discipline far more fatal in its results than failure. We celebrate to-day the grandest victory the world has ever known: avictory which sprang out of the depths of an apparently complete defeat. "We trusted that it was He which should have redeemed Israel. " Vainconfidence, for how could One Who had died as a malefactor, Who couldnot save Himself, rescue His nation from the tyranny of the Roman power?And then He, this stranger Whom they knew not, opened to them theScriptures; showed them the necessity of the sufferings, and the greatclimax, in the Resurrection. The ears were dull, the hearts unconvinced, as they generally are by mere argument, till he revealed Himself in "thebreaking of bread. " The eyes of love could not be deceived and sorrowgave place to joy. Some dispute has arisen as to whether we ought to pray for victory inthis War. The matter is well put by an anonymous writer: "If we are onlyto pray in matters wherein there is no difference of opinion our prayerswill be few, and if we cannot pray for the triumph of honour overfalsehood, of respect for treaties over unscrupulousness, of orderover cruelty and outrage, for what are we ever to pray? We must prayaccording to the light we have. And if we end our prayers with the trulyChristian supplement 'Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt, 'we cannot be doing anything contrary to the principles of the highestreligion. Surely prayer is, or should be, merely the expression of ourbest hopes and wishes submitted to a Divine tribunal. " Putting aside the question of prayer, let us consider for a moment whatshould be our attitude as we look into the future. First and foremostone of confidence and hopefulness. Without arrogance we can say that webelieve firmly and strongly in the absolute righteousness of our cause. In violating the neutrality of Belgium, Germany itself confesses thata wrong was done. A wrong which necessity compelled, as they say. Whatnecessity? That of getting to Paris at the earliest possible moment. Andso when Germany prays for victory, as of course it does, and ought, atthe same time it has to confess to an initial wrong, which was certainlynot made right by the fact that it was the quickest way of accomplishingan end. We have purposely abstained in these Addresses from fanning flames, orappealing to passions. But here is a broad ground upon which, by thevery confession of our enemies, we stand on a higher platform. We wentto war because we would not break a treaty, nor forsake a friend tooweak for self-defence; Germany commenced the war by a treacherous act. Therefore, strong in the belief that the God of righteousness will causethe right to triumph, we can calmly look forward to ultimate victory, To doubt would be disloyalty, To falter would be sin. Much more might be said in the same direction, but let the broad thoughtsuffice. The war has produced a type of pessimism which, in some instances, runsalmost to disturbance of mental balance. Every reverse is exaggerated, and accepted with a kind of confident despondency; every successdiscounted and treated with half-hearted incredulity: "The Germans havedestroyed another ship; what is our Navy doing?" "Oh, but that's onlyone little hill; the Germans will have it back soon enough. " Surelythis kind of pessimism, except where the victim of it is not reallyresponsible, must be as offensive to God as it is exasperating to man. But now to turn to our chief thought for the day, that is, thepermanence of the victory of Easter Day, "Christ dieth no more. " Thatis why He is called "The first fruits of them that are asleep. " Severalresurrections are recorded both in the Old and New Testaments, but theseare cases of those who were raised by others, and then died again. Christ raised Himself and death hath no more dominion over Him. Theresurrection is permanent and keeps on perpetuating and extending itselfin the life of the whole universal Church. It was not an isolated act, but part of a wondrous plan. Not only does it possess doctrinalsignificance in that plan, but vital force for the carrying of it out. "He died for our sins, " but "He was raised for our justification. " Yes, death's last hope, his strongest fort and prison, Is shattered, never to be built again; And He, the mighty Captive, He is risen, Leaving behind the gate, the bar, the chain. We are praying constantly, earnestly, that we "may be brought throughstrife to a lasting peace"; and that "the nations of the world may beunited in a firmer fellowship for the promotion of Thy glory and thegood of all mankind. " No conditions of peace are worth accepting unlessthey will, humanly speaking, secure this result. Germany on the oneside, and the Allies on the other, both realise that this is a "fight toa finish. " Singularly enough the object of both sides is similar--torender another great European war impossible: but the ideals in respectto its attainment are by no means the same; one looks to the setting upof a world dominion; the other, to the establishment of a state ofbalanced power and mutual interests among European nations. We arefighting essentially for the principle of "live and let live, " andtherefore have to face unflinchingly all the sacrifice that still liesbefore us. When peace is concluded it must be upon terms which will makeresults permanent! Should Germany, in the mysterious providence of God, be allowed to become supreme, there will be peace, but, alas! only thepeace of desolation and the numbness of despair. But, as we have alreadysaid, it seems disloyal to all our deepest instincts, all our truestfeelings, even to contemplate such a possibility. But when the Allies triumph, what then?--the discipline of victory. Think for one moment of what the victory of Christ meant, as theratification of the treaty signed upon the Cross, in the very hour ofapparent defeat. It meant for you and me all that is included in thewords "the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ; the meansof grace and the hope of glory. " The resurrection puts the seal to thegreat charter, commenced at Bethlehem, indited page by page through thewondrous life of three and thirty years, closed, as to its earthly side, on Calvary, sealed, signed and delivered on Easter morning. In the powerof that treaty of peace you and I live, day by day; secure except forour own carelessness; beyond all possibility of hurt from spiritualenemies, unless by our own traitorous dealings with them. The victorywas complete! "He hath put all enemies under His feet"; the victory ispermanent, for, "death hath no more dominion over Him. " In these Addresses we have said much about those large results which Godis allowing us already to see as obviously coming out of the war; on ourDay of "Humble Prayer to Almighty God" we solemnly thanked Him: For the laying aside of controversies at home, and for the unity of the Nation and Empire; For the loyal and loving response of our fellow-subjects beyond the seas; For the full harmony between our Allies and ourselves, and for the success which has already been granted to our common efforts; For the devotion of those who have laid down their lives for their country; For the revelation in danger, in suffering, and in death, of the power of the Cross and the benefits of the Lord's Passion. Now remains the question, Are the results to be permanent? That entirelydepends upon our attitude towards the discipline of victory; or how weare going to behave ourselves in the hour of success. It is writtenconcerning Israel, "The Lord saved them from the hand of them that hatedthem: and redeemed them from the hand of the enemy. Then believed theyHis words, they sang His praise. They soon forgat His works: they waitednot for His counsel. " God willing we shall ere long be singing our TeDeum; oh! yes, we shall do it with all our heart and soul; but how arewe to fix the emotions, to render permanent that thankfulness which weshall really feel. The Israelites "waited not for His counsel. " Theyfailed, that is, under the discipline of success. Victory is given thatit may be used for good, just as much as failure is sent that we mayrise on "stepping-stones of our dead-selves" to fresh endeavour. As a nation we have been single-minded and honourable in our entry uponand our waging of the War; when it is over we are to be just the same inour use of the fruits of the War. Victory will not come to us simply forour own sakes and that it may be selfishly exploited for our own needs. No, assuredly not: it will come for the mutual benefit of all concerned, and unless the very first fruits of it be dedicated to the cause ofheroic Belgium, to her re-instatement in something of her formercondition, it will have come in vain. The time of distress and disasterhas knit together the Empire in a wondrous unity of brotherhood. Therewill be debts to be repaid to India and our Colonies, debts which cannever be discharged in money, but in those higher acts of fellowship, justice, endeavour, which will knit yet closer the bonds that have beenformed. There will remain a large heritage of disablement andunemployment to cope with which will require wise counsel, comprehensivemeasures, real self-sacrifice. It is computed that should the war lastanother eighteen months there will be nearly a quarter of a million menmore or less unfitted to resume their ordinary callings. All this, you say, is the concern of the State; certainly, but what isthe State? Only another term for you and me. Therefore the seriousnessof attitude, the sense of proportion, the realisation of brotherhood, that by the mercy of God we have gained, must be retained for the facingof the new problems that will lie before us. Turning to the more purely personal aspect of it, there will be thetemptation to grow slack and cold in intercessions and communions, whenthe immediate occasion that prompted them has passed. To be forewarnedis to be forearmed, let us look out for this, expect it, then we shallnot be afraid to meet it. "Christ being raised from the dead dieth nomore"; think what the permanency of that victory has meant all down theages of the past in the triumphs of the saints, in the deaths of themartyrs, in the splendid story of the Church of Christ. Think what itmeans to-day in the lives of millions of the faithful; in all the deedsof charity which are brightening homes, cheering hearts, giving hope tothe hopeless, healing to the sick, and soundness to the maimed: think ofall it means in rest and refreshment to the souls in Paradise; think ofall it still will mean in the growth of the Church of Christ up to thefulness of its destined and glorious completion; think of all it maymean for you in your individual life, right up to the day when you shallbe like Him, for you shall see Him as He is. In the permanence of the victory of Christ, may we each one of us so usethe discipline of victory that it may redound to the glory of Him, inWhom we live, and move, and have our being. APPENDIX GIVING A SPECIAL THOUGHT AND PASSAGE FORMEDITATION FOR EACH DAY IN LENTSUGGESTED BY THE ADDRESSES. APPENDIX A SUGGESTED THOUGHT FOR DAILY MEDITATION _N. B. --You will find it useful to look up references in a referenceBible. _ Ash Wednesday: God wishes that we should be saved. --1 Tim. Ii. 3, 4; 2Pet. Iii. 9. Thursday: Our natural will is in conflict with God's will. --Rom. Vii. 21-25. Friday: God the Holy Ghost assists us by illuminating the will. --S. Johnxvi. 13-15. Saturday: What is the guiding principles of our lives?--Ps. Xxxix. 7; S. Matt. Vi. 19-24. 1st Sunday in Lent: The Incarnation the mission of Christ to thebody. --S. John i. 1-14; Eph. V. 23. Monday: The body in its physical aspect wonderfully suited to itspurposes. --Gen. I. 26-28; ii. , 7; Ps. Cxxxix. 14. Tuesday: The body the external means by which we receive theSacraments. --Heb. X. 22; Acts viii. 14-17; 1 Cor. Xi. 26. Wednesday: The body in its ultimate destiny. --1 Cor. Xv. 42-49; 1 Johniii. 2, 3. Thursday: Disciplining the body braces the will. --2 Tim. Ii. 3; Heb. Xi. 32-40. Friday: The corporate life of the Church in its bearing on influence andconduct. --1 Cor. Xii. 12-27. Saturday: The duty of example in respect of the temperance question. --1Cor. Viii. 7-13; 2 Cor. Viii. 9. 2nd Sunday in Lent: The inner value of our life. --S. Mark viii. 34-38. Monday: The deadening effect of prosperity. --S. James v. 1-6. Tuesday: Our Lord's example of single-mindedness. --S. Mark vii. 37; S. Matt. Xxvi. 39-44. Wednesday: The need for seriousness in thought. --S. Matt. Xv. 10-20;Phil. Iv. 8. Thursday: The need for seriousness in word. --S. James iii. 1-11. Friday: The need for seriousness in deed. --S. James iii. 13-18; 1 Pet. V. 8. Saturday: The need for perseverance, lest we forfeit our blessings. --Romii. 4-7; Rev. Ii. 18-29. 3rd Sunday in Lent: Man seeking after God. --Ps. Xlii. Monday: The Incarnation the means by which the union between God and manis brought about. --S. John xvii. 17-26. Tuesday: Prayer the characteristic act of religion. --S. Matt. Vii. 7-12;Eph. Vi. 18. Wednesday: The importance of self-examination as leading toself-knowledge. --Gal. Vi. 3-5. Thursday: Confession of sins to God the only condition offorgiveness. --1 John i. 5-10. Friday: Forgiveness of sins comes from God through the blood ofChrist. --Eph. I. 3-12. Saturday: The ministry of reconciliation committed to the ministers, asChrist's ambassadors. --2 Cor. V. 18; S. John xx. 22, 23. 4th Sunday in Lent: The natural body of Christ the source ofhealings. --S. Matt. Xiv. 34-36. Monday: The spiritual body of Christ found in His Church. --Eph. I. 18-23. Tuesday: The sacramental body of Christ, given to us in the HolyCommunion. --1 Cor. X. , 14-21. Wednesday: Obedience the test of religion. --Rom. Vi. 16-23. Thursday: Self-indulgence the great obstacle to obedience. --S. Luke xvi. 19-31. Friday: Self-renunciation the condition of service. --Acts xx. 17-24. Saturday: Our Lord's example of obedience. --Phil. Ii. 1-11; Heb. Xii. 1-3. 5th Sunday in Lent: Suffering in the light of eternity. --Rev. Vii. 9-17;2 Cor. Iv. 17, 18. Monday: Suffering in the light of the Incarnation. --S. Matt. Viii. 16, 17; Heb. Iv. 14-16. Tuesday: Christ still suffering in His people. --S. Matt. Xxv. 34-46;Acts ix. 4. Wednesday: Devotion to Christ the power of endurance. --Acts v. 40-42;Rom. Viii. 35-39. Thursday: Christ succouring those who suffer for Him. --Acts vii. 54-60;xxvii. 21-26. Friday: Character disciplined by suffering. --Heb. X. 32-36; xii. 4-11. Saturday: Suffering giving opportunity for sympathy. --Heb. Xii. 12, 13;S. James i. 27; ii. 14-16. 6th Sunday in Lent: The resurrection of Christ, the basis of hope. --1Thess. Iv. 13-18. Monday: The Holy Spirit the power of the risen life, here andhereafter. --Rom. Viii. 5-11. Tuesday: The communion of Saints in the one body of Christ. --Heb. Xii. 1, 2, and 22-24. Wednesday: The departed remembering us. --S. Luke xvi. 19-31; esp. V. 24;Rev. Vi. 9. Thursday: The glorious reward of faithful service. --S. Matt. Xxv. 14-23. Good Friday: What does the death of Christ mean to me?--S. John xix. 23-30. Easter Eve: Am I showing the fruits of my Baptism by leading a risenlife?--Rom. Vi. 1-11. * * * * * PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD. , BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S. E. , AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.