The Heart-Cry of Jesus | Page 9

sat at Jesus' feet at the old home in Bethany; there is the child-like saint,
the devout and spiritual John; there is the repentant woman of Magdala;
and there are many others who betake themselves to that sacred
place--"the upper room." One all-engrossing thought fills their minds.
"The promise of the Father which ye have heard of me. The promise of
the Father! The promise of the Father! O, when will He come? We
would know more about our departed Lord. He is gone from us. Our
hearts are torn and bleeding and lonely. Jesus said, 'He shall testify of
me.' Would that He would come now!"
WHY ONLY THE FEW?
But why are there only one hundred and twenty? Was it not into
Jerusalem that Christ entered riding over a cloak-carpeted way amid the
deafening shouts of "Hosanna"? Did He not teach and instruct and heal
hundreds, if not thousands, in and about Jerusalem? Was He not
lionized at times by an admiring public? Yea, truly; but one may
admire Christ and yet not love Him. There are many who at some "hard
saying" refuse to walk with Him. Thousands who have a keen
appreciation of "loaves and fishes" shrink from "leaving all" and
following Jesus. A great concourse is drawn and held spell-bound by a
naive, graceful, eloquent, artless preacher who uses "lilies," and the
"grass of the field," and the "sower" of seed, and the "sparrow" in the
air to enforce his truth. But one may be interested, and yet not be saved.
THE AESTHETIC ELEMENT.
In some people religion appeals to the aesthetic nature, and to that only.
They festoon the cross with flowers, but never think of dying on it.

They are charmed by Gothic churches filled with "dim, religious light."
The waves of music from the great; sounding organ awe their souls and
fill them with a pensiveness which they mistake for repentance. Pointed
arches, sculptured capitals, fretted altars, swinging censers, burning
candles, white-robed choir-boys, errorless order in church
service--these auxiliaries influence them so strongly in their sense of
the beautiful that they think, "Surely I love God. Why, of course I love
God." But to love God involves something practical. It means
something more than mere profession. It means rugged self-denial,
Spartan heroism, perhaps the loss of an "arm" or the "plucking out of
an eye." Base must have been the soul which was not attracted by One
who "spake as never man spake"; low-minded the man who did not see
in Him imperishable beauty and refinement of soul; but ah! discipleship
means far more than that. Christ had flown up to heaven. Who now will
prove his love for Him by obeying His commands? Who will tarry in
Jerusalem awaiting the coming Spirit, and then, the Comforter having
come, be ready to "Go into all the world, discipling all nations"?
Answer: All who are truly children of God. The preaching of
sanctification is the touchstone by which the genuineness of
conversions can be tested. The truly living "hunger and thirst after
righteousness"; the dead do not "bother their heads about a second
blessing."
THE STEAMER "PURITAN."
Let us illustrate: It was fifteen minutes until the schedule time for the
"Puritan" of the "Fall River Line" to leave her New York pier. The
evening was warm, and the usual crowd filled the decks. Many had
come on board to see their friends off for Newport, Bar Harbor and "the
Pier." Passengers and their friends sat in groups and chatted, talked
about the trip, the weather, the situation at Santiago, the flowers they
held, the concert by the orchestra. It was impossible for an observer to
determine just who were passengers and held tickets, and who were
merely bidding farewell to their friends. Suddenly an officer in
gold-braided cap and blue uniform appeared, and cried out with an
authoritative voice and a look of command, "All ashore who are going
ashore! All ashore who are going ashore!" Immediately there were
hasty hand-clasps and hasty good-byes, and a large part of the company
marched quickly down the stairs and across the gang-plank. Those who

were left held tickets and were "going through."
THE STAMPEDE FOR SHORE.
In a revival of religion it is often a matter of considerable difficulty to
determine the genuinely converted. In the confusion of large altar
services, and the crush of great congregations, who are the saved? No
man can tell. Many are moved by sympathy for their friends. Others are
charmed by the congregational singing and the music of the organ.
Many see that the revival is bound to go, and, like Pliable, they are
swept along for a time with it. But there appears in this mixed company
a man with the stamp of divine authority upon his brow, the gold