CO-OPERATION IN THE TRUTH

‘We can do nothing against the truth; but [only] for the truth.’

2 Corinthians 13:8

Is that not a satisfying picture of our relationship to truth? The truth—the reality of things—is outside there; moving along its own path, pressing forward towards its proper goal, set in a purposed direction of its own. Whatever we may do or say, it makes good its own intention. Our opportunity lies in coming into co-operation with it. We can join in. We can discover what it intends. Our faculties allow for our understanding what it is after. It invites us to enter into its meaning and to unite forces. We and it are akin and can work together.

I. Even if we ourselves must limit and qualify the claim of practical efficiency to be the sole test of the truth that we believe in, yet, at any rate, those outside us who watch and note us cannot possibly apply any other test. It is the sole proof by which they will judge us—practical results. We therefore are bound to supply them with evidence. They must be able to see that somehow or other, by our belief, we do make something adequate and real of this life of ours. They must be forced to own that we can put ourselves to use; that we are of service to all who need us; that we bring resources into play which cannot be got elsewhere; that we find life full of practical opportunities. They must confess that we offer of our best; that we come to the best of which we are capable; that we improve and grow, and have funds of secret strength, and are in touch with the powers that make for good. If we are in the truth, working with the truth, as we say that we are, these are the results that should happen. It ought to be visible, tangible, audible, that we have a faith which is efficient, a faith which corresponds to the facts and can deal with them, and master them, and draw strength out of them, and do the work asked of it. Are you and I offering any real evidence to those who watch? And if not, why not? That is a serious question to have to answer.

II. There may be some who are retorting, ‘I accept your test of efficiency, and it has carried me away from your Christian Creed; for I have become a better man, a better woman, since I ceased to believe it. My strength was liberated by my freedom from faith’s shackles. Since I threw it over I have been more unselfish, more sacrificial, more true. I have loved humanity with a deeper love. I have cared for righteousness with a finer passion. I have become free from petty anxieties. I have moved in a larger and a sweeter air.’ Is that what you say? Well, what should I answer? I should stand by my test. At all costs I would say: ‘You must obey the call to be at your best. Wherever your best self leads you, thither you must follow. Be true to the best in you. You cannot do anything else. Only follow it loyally to the end. Press after it. I, for my part, must believe that whatever is best in you belongs to Christ. Follow it, and it is bound at last to find its home in Him. It will lead you there if you are loyal to it. All that is good in us is His. He is the one true man in us all. That is the Catholic faith. Therefore we can dare to bid you be true to yourself at all hazards, and you cannot in the end be wrong. The more true you are to the guiding which, as you now are, leads you straight away from Christ, the more certain you will be to find yourself brought back to Him.

III. Ah! that blessed hour of recovered peace in Christ!—What would it not mean to you? And to you, it would be more even than to those poor parted lovers in the poem. To you, it would not merely be a recovery, but a revelation. For, indeed, if the Christ from Whom you have parted did not draw out your best self, then it was some misconceived and misinterpreted Christ Whom you have left behind. And when with those averted feet, following your best, you make full circle and meet again the Christ face to face, it will be a new Christ—the true Christ, the very Lord and Master of your soul. Ah, you will know Him then, as your only joy and peace and consummation. He, and He alone, can fulfil your desire. And in the gladness of the recognition, after the bitter journey to the bourne so sweet, you will thank God for having kept you true to the light which to-day you pledge yourself to follow to the end.

Rev. Canon H. Scott Holland.

Illustration

‘We think of those two who, in Coventry Patmore’s exquisite poem, are compelled to sever wholly, and to part one East and one West, and who yet, by the very strength of the resolution with which they walk asunder, are brought, by the round Earth, face to face at last. So the poem runs:—

Perchance we may,

Where now this night is day,

And even through faith of still averted feet,

Amazed meet;

The bitter journey to the bourne so sweet,

Seasoning the termless feast of our content

With tears of recognition never dry.’

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