Beginning from Jerusalem (Luke 24 : 47) Used not as a text to be expounded; but as a phrase furnishing an idea.
FRIENDS, we are here to-day in answer to the call of memories. Back of your kindly invitations there have been silent spiritual appeals even more powerful. Every year the memory refrain of ''Home, Sweet Home,'' has been mutely sung by the autumn leaves, the winter snows, the spring flowers and the summer rains, so that with Coates Kinney we can all say: "Every tinkle on the shingles has an echo in the heart, And a thousand dreary fancies into busy being start. And a thousand recollections weave their bright hues into woof, As we listen to the patter of the soft rain on the roof.'' The memory of the old, shaded house, whose restful doorway once framed mother's presence; the memory of cool paths through the dewy grasses of mornings long gone; the memory of the white-branched, love- marked beeches on the hill slope, where young vows were once made; the memory of the sweet-toned bell that sang its peaceful summons to worshipers no longer here — ^these, and like memories, have been the urge that has reinforced your written invitations, and we are gathered again in the old home community. To those of us who in childhood moved away from this hallowed spot there are many changes noticeable. "We sense the pathetic absence of old landmarks as well as loved faces. We feel the jar of ultra newness as certain ''improvements'' obtrude themselves in the place of the bygone things we fain would see again. There is a noisy garage standing where the melody of the blacksmith's anvil used to be made ; there is a debonair public library covering the playground of the old brick schoolhouse; there is a brazen-fronted ''movie" theater within the walls of the little meeting-house that once sent forth the quavering cadences of common-meter hymns. The sacred things of yesterday are unable to hold their own against the profane things of to-day. Yes, and it is barely possible that to those of us who have been away, the pull of the old home attic has been as great as the pull of your anticipated welcome; for to the attic the quaint outgrown things of years agone have found their decrepit way. Where else are the worn, split-bottomed chairs, the settee, the andirons and the tongs? Where is the old Dutch oven that used to hover over the fireplace while from beneath its ample lid there came forth odors that have never been equaled before nor since ? Where are the horn-handled knives, the two-pronged forks, the pewter castor — and where are the frazzled remains of the once glorious fly-brush made of peacock feathers ? Where is the long-spindled, corded bedstead, on which the fat straw-tick supported the fatter feather bed, inviting disappearance and ob- livion? One by one in limping procession they have passed up the attic stairs. But why should it make any difference what be- comes of the rubbish of former generations? Why not make kindling-wood of grandmother's spinning-wheel and wreckage of grandfather's clock? The real answer explains our presence here to-day, and furnishes the theme of this address. As in nature there are forces that throw off from the center, and forces that draw in toward the center, so in human relationships there are heart forces that are concentric and heart forces that are eccentric. I. There are centripetal home forces that center in the home itself. Since the beginning of history and the dawn of tradition Jacobs have been returning to Hebron, and Naomis have been going back to Beth- lehem. From the corners of the earth men and women yield to the irresistible pull of home, and make pil- grimages to the scenes of their childhood. Is this the mere accident of custom, or is it not rather the subtle working of primordial impulses designed to preserve the integrity of the home, whence come the forces that move mankind, and weld the world to God? It is in the home that the family is builded, and it is in the family that the race is shaped. Let us therefore make brief inventory of the home's centripetal forces in the order of their importance. 1. Family affection, that makes each member of the family love the home. No one ever loved a house for the sake of the house itself, or loved a tree or rock because of the inherent loveableness of rocks and trees. We love objects and places only as they are inseparably associated with somebody, and it is the somebody that we love, not the places and objects. Bring down from the attic a certain moth-eaten, rickety chair. It is bat- tered and unsightly, patched and tottery, yet we look at it through tears, and touch it with loving fingers. Are our hearts stirred because we love rusted tacks, ragged burlap or worm-eaten wood? No, not that. It is because mother sat there, or father sat there, or baby sat there. It is because some loved one sat there who was so much a part of ourselves as to affect the very wellsprings of our life purposes and conduct. All the finer sentiments that make life worth living — sympathy, kindness, forgiveness, considerateness, solicitude — are but different expressions of love. They are facets of the one diamond, and it is in the light of home that these facets are shaped to reveal their true luster. The home is the source of the formative influences that lead to human betterment. Whatever dwarfs the homing instinct blights humanity at its core, and whatever nur- tures it helps to give the world a sound heart. "What is the real offense of the man who profiteers in home necessities, house rents and home-building materials? Is it simply the grabbing of an unfair profit? No. That is bad enough, but the real offense is in the strangulation of the homing instinct. The profiteer is a home strangler. And apropos of home strangling, is it not barely possible that the modern woman needs to strengthen her appreciation of the divineness of her prerogative as a home-maker? There are certain theorists who, under the seductive plea of ''larger liberty," would reduce the home to a communistic garage, and turn the community's children over to the town council to be mothered. More than any one else it is the mother, the wife, the woman, who makes the home to be home. There are not enough men in the United States to make a home without the presence of a woman to give it the right atmosphere. The family is love's supreme institution; the home is the family's nesting-place; woman is the soul of the home; therefore every home- making woman is at the very fountain of the world's welfare and happiness. Let no woman who has either heart or brains be guilty of dallying with any theory of ''emancipation" that calls home a treadmill, and brands housework as drudgery. ''Housekeeping is only the shell of a woman's business," home-making is its heart. Does the daily grind become irksome? Doubtless it does. But how much of a price is irksome- ness when it pays for the privilege of being associated with almighty God in the work of molding and lifting the race! ''The purple of her regal robe, The crown of regal worth. She wears who sways in gentleness The scepter of her hearth. '' 2. Family loyalty, that impels each member to pro- tect the home. Based upon family affection, and grow- ing out of it, is a second centripetal home force that draws the members of the household into a league of home protection and defense. It inclines each to stand up for the rest, and bands them all together in a com- mon determination to preserve the family integrity. Most men, as Eauschenbusch says, toil early and late ''with little else in mind except to maintain their homes.'' Most women spend two-thirds of their lives in a routine of sacrifice and self -repression in the in- terest of home. Most children therefore grow up im- bibing from the atmosphere of their surroundings a home loyalty that is interwoven with every fiber of their being. When conditions are such as to make this loyalty impossible, home is not home. Note the quick- ness of the average man to resent insult to his family. Note the swiftness of the mother as she springs to the defense of her children. Note the boasting of the boy as he relates the prowess of his dad. Note the pride of the girl as she describes the accomplishments of her mother. This centripetal loyalty must mean something. Jacob Riis says "that one of the direct enemies of the home is the slum'' It is the enemy of the home be- cause it breeds ignorance, disease and crime; and, where there is nothing to love that is loveable, and nothing to be loyal to that is worthy, the human being sinks to the level of the brute. Slum life, hotel life, tramp life, society life, or any other life that interferes with the normal growth of home, love and loyalty, is inimical to the highest interests of humanity. 3. Family faith, that inspires all to dedicate the home to God. This third centripetal force is not found in every home, but it is found in all homes where family ideals are at their best. In material wealth, conveniences and scientific contrivances, we who are here to-day are away in advance of our forefathers. They knew nothing about wireless telegraphy, electric lighting, telephones, aeroplanes and automobiles, but they knew God better than we know Him. When our great-grandparents settled this community they en- dured hardships and privations of which we have never dreamed; their education was limited and unpedagog- ical; they never heard of Biblical criticism, and knew nothing of the *'two Isaiahs''; but they knew their Bibles, and in practically every Christian home there was family worship. Out in the fields grandfather read the New Testament while the horses rested, and in the house grandmother laid the good Book in a convenient place where she might pause occasionally for a precious glimpse as she went about her homely tasks. The utter simplicity of their unclouded faith made spiritual giants of those pioneers, and as one by one they have fallen with age about us, we have felt ourselves to be like underbrush in the presence of passing monarchs of the forest. Theirs was the day when mothers taught their children to memorize the word of God, so that from a babe each member of the family grew up, like Timothy, knowing the sacred writings which were able to make them *'wise unto salvation/' Since then there has been a gradual infusion of materialistic, pagan philosophy into the minds of those of our sons and daughters who have sat at the feet of imported professors, and these sons and daughters have come home from college spirit- ually negatived for the rest of their lives. The home is throwing up the job of Bible training; the public school can not undertake it because *' there are too many kinds of people to please"; the college is disposed to consider the sources of Biblical data as somewhat '* hy- pothetical, '^ and the university, to its own satisfaction, at least, has analyzed the Bible into nothingness. Even in ''church school" circles some of us, with unpracticed tongue, have begun to stammer in academic phrase, hoping to convey the impression that we are in touch with higher learning, but often getting unexpected results. The son of a leader in city Sunday-school work was asked if his school taught the pupils to memo- rize Scripture. ''Naw," he said, ''we don't have any of that memory stuff; we study religious education." Shades of the apostles, preserve us ! No school or other organization of learning can do for children and young people what the Christian home can do. The three centripetal forces — ^love, loyalty and faith — are primarily home forces. They center in the home. There they are given and there they are re- ceived. But if the home center is satisfied simply to centralize, it soon becomes a dead center. When the old Jerusalem church was becoming content to remain in Jerusalem, it was providentially "scattered abroad." Home forces can not remain at home. They are ex- pended within the home that they may be expanded beyond, and every Christian family circle becomes a miniature Jerusalem through: n. Centrifugal home forces that reach to the ''uttermost part of the earth." This is a great vision we are trying to get before us — a vision of home as the place where, under divine benediction, all the best powers of the soul may grow, expand and shape them- selves for the job of making the world sweeter and better. Among the humblest of these outgoing in- fluences is: 1, A radiating Hospitality that blesses every home guest. ''There are hermit souls that live withdrawn In the place of their self -content ; There are souls like stars, that dwell apart In a fellowless firmament; There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths Where highways never ran. But let me live by the side of the road And be a friend to man." And, after all, what is it that gives to the roadside home that indescribable air of hospitable hominess that is so delightful to us? Is it fine furniture, tapestries and gold? No, for we have sat at firesides where the light flickered over threadbare rugs and pathetically faded chairs, and have sensed the presence of a rich contentment that no money could buy. Is it an abun- dance of delectable food prepared with the skill of a chef, and served in elegant taste? No, for we remem- ber having sat at a rickety kitchen table, on which there was nothing but hot corn pone and sweet milk served a la any old way, and we had the time of our life. A warm good will glowing in the hearts of home folk, and expressing itself in unselfish cordiality — that, and that alone, speeds the parting guest, and gives joy to the guest who tarries. In fact, we sometimes feel that an excess of modern conveniences interferes with hos- pitality's radiation, so to speak. Pressing a button and installing a thermostat may result in light and heat, but human solicitude is not turned on that way. Permit me to paint a memory picture. The old farm home stood on the hill by the side of the ridge road, its gable windows overlooking the near-distant village, where chimney-tops signaled one another hos- pitably. The air was clear and cold, and the fields and woods were wrapped in the mantle of God Almighty's white. In the farmhouse on the hill every room was alive with excited anticipation as scurrying feet and hurrying hands wrought magic in the happy prepara- tion of the home-coming Thanksgiving dinner. Grand- mother sat in her invalid chair where her dear, remi- niscent eyes could see a little way down the road, and grandfather pottered around doing unnecessary things with an air of great concern. Under the direction of younger members of the household the finishing touches were being given here and there, and then the folks began to come. In threes, in sevens, in twos, in fives, they stormed the blessed old front porch, some crying, others laughing, and all talking at Once. Shall we attempt to describe that dinner? No, there are points of effort beyond which the vocabulary of mortals be- comes anemic and feeble. Suffice it to say that the longest dining-table was too short, and had to be sup- plemented by a table from the kitchen. The longest table-cloth was not long enough, and had to be helped out. Chairs were assembled from all over the place, and ''Webster's Unabridged" and the big family Bible were called upon to assist in elevating the younger generation. The only high-chair was given over to the youngest baby, who forthwith became the center of attention, and the happy meal that had begun with grandfather's ''blessing" closed with the tearful hope that the circle might remain unbroken for another year. Every man who goes forth into the world with such a picture in his heart has with him both a guardian angel and an angel of conquest over evil. But these centrifugal home forces, like circles, grow wider as they leave the center, and there is next: 2. A constructive enthusiasm that hacks every com- mumty interest. The genuine home spirit, being un- selfish, is essentially missionary. Its virtues begin at home, but they can not stay there. It forms friend- ships that link home with home until an interlocked group of homes becomes a community, or a family of families, so that whatever blesses the community pros- pers each citizen, and whatever injures any individual cripples the community. Unwillingness or inability to see this in homes that are mere stay places, or worse, is responsible for the lack of a community conscience, which lack, in turn, is responsible for the retardation of all that's good. The entire burden of community betterment rests upon the homes that get back of every- thing that is right, and array themselves against every- thing that is wrong. May God have pity upon the spawning sources of those supine inhabitants who take greedy advantage of every civic improvement, but take no constructive interest in, and contribute nothing to, the public welfare. After the smashing of windows, robbery, looting and assault that took place during the strike of the Boston police force, the Transcript had this to say: ''Boston is reaping what she has sown. She is ascertaining that among large masses of her population no foundation of religion and character has been laid to which can be spiked a morality that will work.'' The foundations of religion and character are laid in Christian homes. Out from them must go the intelligence that seeks the community's good through all constructive religious, social, educational, political, commercial, civic and philanthropic organization, and no community life can even offer its families protection from the lust of the despoiler until men make home the object of their chiefest solicitude, and women con- sider home-making the supreme privilege of woman- hood. In a material sense Christian citizenship '' re- quires the subordination of private interests to the public good," but in a spiritual sense the civic right- eousness of a community never rises above the moral and religious ideals of the homes that compose it. It can not be said too frequently that the Christian home is the chief support of the church of our Lord, and is the supporting background of all community movements and institutions identified with the public weal. Out from a home atmosphere of sunny devout- ness a child goes naturally into the wider joy of the Master's kingdom. Out from a home atmosphere where books are loved he goes happily into the wider fields of knowledge. This is why the memory of school-days softens our eyes, and brings a reminiscent smile, and we love the poet who wrote : ''The rieli air is sweet with the breath of September, The sumach is staining the hedges with red; Soft rests on the hill-slopes the light we remember, The glory of days that so long ago fled — When, brown-cheeked and ruddy, Blithe-hearted and free, The summons to study We answered with glee. Listen, oh I listen once more to the swell Of the masterful, merry Academy bell.*' But let US follow again the still widening circles of the home's centrifugal influences and we shall see: 3. An upbuilding patriotism that supports every national ideal. When the World War began, we citi- zens of the United States felt ourselves to be merely long-distance spectators of a quarrel that was none of our business. We had no notion of entering the con- flict. We had been cultivating the ideals of peace. We even did not believe in war. But later, when un- bridled ruthlessness broke loose in Europe, seeking ut- terly to ''crush the spirit of all free peoples," and force upon the world the doctrine that ''might makes right," our Government decided that national honor made it necessary for us to leap into the fray and help the Allies. From the capitol at Washington a direct appeal to patriotism was sped across the thresh- old of the homes of America, and, like magic, the nation arose to the rescue. Now, what national ideal were we supporting? Simply this — ^we were upholding the traditions of our great-visioned forefathers who saw more in American patriotism than a mere willing- ness to fight when attacked. Around their firesides they dedicated themselves to their beloved America, and in their assemblies they dedicated their beloved America to almighty God and to the defense of eter- nal righteousness and justice. Under modern conditions we are in danger of los- ing this lofty ideal. Hordes of strangers from all over the world have swarmed into our cities, scattering godlessness and un-American conceptions of life and conduct. New York, for instance, is a city of cities. Within her corporate limits there are teeming popula- tions that neither speak our language nor understand one another. In the light of this fact, we scarcely know how to resent the unfeeling sneer that *'the statue of Liberty was designed by a Dago and pre- sented to the United States by the French to enlighten the Irish immigrant on his way to Dutch New York/' The children of these foreign folk are, many of them, keen-minded and eager to learn. They are capable of catching the true spirit of our Republic, but the trans- forming democracy of the unecclesiasticised religion of Jesus Christ is the only power that can make their perfect Americanization a fact. An American girl was in conversation with a titled Englishman who was inclined to snobbishness. He said: ''The stripes in your American flag make it look like a stick of cheap candy, don't you know." ''Yes," she flashed, "there is some resemblance; it makes everybody sick who tries to lick it." Very gleefully and properly we shout our approval of this platform story, but, friends, we must not forget that American patriotism means more than exultation over victories. No type of patriotism is ideally American except Christian patriotism. The founders of our Re- public were men and women whose supreme aim was to dedicate it to the promotion of the Christian re- ligion. "We have always been classed among the Chris- tian nations of the world. The Supreme Court of the United States has declared that we are a Christian nation. The charters of the early colonies formally asserted the fact. "Within one hundred years after the landing at Jamestown three colleges were founded: Harvard, William and Mary, and Yale. They were all dedicated to the propagation of Christian righteous- ness. The national observance of Christmas and Thanksgiving Day has continuously proclaimed to the world that we are a Christian nation. So indisputa- ble is this fact; so plainly has it been written into our national history; so essentially has it been wrought into our national institutions and breathed into our very life — that an American home, to be patriotic in the highest sense, must be Christian. Deliberate god- lessness is treason to the ^' Stars and Stripes," and no atheist can be one hundred per cent. American. The final and already anticipated centrifugal force emanating from the home is: 4. An out-reaching Christian sympathy that extends to the rim of the world, A Christian nation can not do otherwise than disseminate Christianity. In the very nature of things the religion of Jesus Christ has to be given in order to be kept. From the home, through the church, its radiating power is divinely designed to go out and out until it touches the bor- debris of human habitations. In the necessary effort to reach and warm the chilled heart of the last man lies the power that keeps the home fires burning. Such is the ideal. Such the divine plan. But how well are we qualified to carry it out? Investigation shows that half the children and youth of our own country are not reached by any organized religious educational influence whatever. Multiplied thousands of children from polyglot and unenlightened birth-springs are streaming into the current of to-mor- row's citizenship while an inadequate number of Bible schools are devoting thirty minutes a week to the work of focusing the sun rays of the Christian religion upon the turbid tide. Can this *' spiritual illiteracy,'' this pauperism of soul, go on forever without cumulative and retroactive disaster? Can a miasmatic marsh for- ever be left undrained without menace to the dwellers on the heights? The mayor of a great city once re- fused to inspect and clean up the slums. His daughter bought an expensive coat from a fashionable modiste, who let out a part of the work to a less fashionable tailor, who sub-let some of the rougher sewing to a tenement seamstress. After wearing the garment a few times, the young girl sickened and died of a ter- rible contagion. The tenement had struck back. Ex- tending the argument, can any American Christian home afford not to cultivate a world vision? Some- how, sometime, the *' uttermost part of the earth" will strike back unless our Lord's commission is carried out, beginning at the Jerusalem of each Christian fire- side and reaching to the world's horizon. That, and that alone, which can save our country from the crumbling disintegration that has befallen the nations of antiquity, is the continuous infusion of the spiritual ideals of the Christian religion into our home and national life. These spiritual ideals include a redemptive interest in all '^the people that sit in darkness.'' In saving others we save ourselves, and in neglecting ourselves we lose the rest. Sectarianism and liberalism have been equally shortsighted in failing to see that the New Testament church solves the prob- lem of universal brotherhood by simply consisting of the total number of individuals who, through implicit obedience to the divine will, are united with and living in Jesus Christ, and so constitute the ''family of God." The sectarian spirit can not make disciples of all the nations because the nations do not care to be en- meshed in fifty-seven varieties of ecclesiastical harness. The spirit of liberalism can not ''go into all the world and preach the gospel," because, unless it can first get its feet placed somewhere, it can not even start. Our heterogeneous population puts us in racial touch with the world, but the world can never be touched spiritually through a heterogeneous gospel. Josiah Strong said: *^The supreme need of the world is a real God; not the great perhaps, but the great I am,'' If this be true, then, in the very nature of things, the preparation to meet the world's need must begin in the warm firelight of the world's homes. Friends, those of you who have stayed here in the old home community are the custodians of the material things associated with the childhood of us all. It is your privilege daily to look upon scenes the very ab- sence from which ofttimes makes the rest of us sick at heart. Once more we home-comers scatter to our newer places of interest, carrying added memories of your graciousness. Once more we leave to you the care of the old home that is so rich in associations. Once more from the hill-road we shall look back upon the homes of friends who are here, and upon the near-by peaceful abiding-place of loved ones that are gone, and say ''good-by till we meet again." '' The clouds are round us and the snow-drifts thicken. O, Thou dear Shepherd, leave us not to sicken In the waste night; our tardy footsteps quicken; At evening bring us home.''
by E. W, Thornton