Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1890-08-02


divine blessings. 1t does not seem that our
weak voice has strength enough to climb
up to Gods ears. Shall not our prayers be
lost in the clouds? Have words wings?
open to receive every prayer. Must it not
be loud? Ought it not to ring up with the
strength of stout lungs? Must it not be
loud call such as drowning men utter, OF
like the shout of some chieftain in the
battle? No; whisper is as GOOD a
shout, and the mere wish of the soul in
profound silence is as good as whisper.
1t rises just as high and accomplishes just
as much.
But ought not prayer to be made up OF
golden words if it is to enter such splendid
door and live beside seraphim and arch
angel? Ought not every phrase be rounded
into perfection, ought not the language be
musical and classic and poetic and rhetorl-
cal? No; the most illiterate cutlery. the I'M
jointed petition, the clumsy phrase. the
sentence breaking into grammatical blum
ders, an unworded groan.Iis Just as effectual
if it be the utterance of the souls want. A
heart all covered up with garlandS or
thought would be no attraction to God. but
a heart broken and contrite-that is the &C
ceptable sacrifice. Il know that my Re-
deemer liveth,' rising up in the mighty har-
mOny of a musical academy, may over
power our ear and heart, but it will not
reach the ear of God like the broken voiced
hymn of some sufferer amid rags and desc
lation looking up trustfullv to a Saviour's
| compassion, singing amid tears and pangs,
Il know that my Redeemer liveth."
[ suppose that there was more rhetoric
and classic elegance in the prayers of the
Pharisee than of the publican, but you
know which was successful, You may
kneel with complete elegance on some soft
cushion at an altar of alabaster and utter
prayer of Miltonic sublimity, but neither
your graceful posture nor the roll OF your
blank verse will attract heavenly attention,
while over some dark cellar in which
Christian pauper is PROSTATE in the straw
angels bend from their thrones and cry one
to another, Behold, he prays!" Through
this open door of Heaven what long pro-
cession of prayers is continually passing!
What thanksgivings! What confessions!
What intercessions! What beseechings!
And behold, a door was opened in
Heaven.
Again, the door Of Heaven is opened to
allow us the opportunity of looking in.
Christ when he came from Bethlehem leftit
open. and no one since has dared to shut it.
Matthew threw it still wider open when he
came to write, and Paul pushed the door
further back when he spoke of the glory to
be revealed, and John in Revelation actually
points up to the harps, and the waters, and
/ the crowns, and the thrones. There are pro-
found mysteries about that blessed place
that we cannot solve, But look through this
wide open door of Heaven and see what
you can see. God means us to look and
catch up now something of the rapture, and
attune our hearts to its worship.
1t is wide open enough to see Christ. Be-
hold Him, the chief among ten thousand, all
the hammered pomp of Heaven at His feet.
With your enkindled faith look on along
these ranks of glory. Watch how their
palms wave and hear how their voices ring.
Floods clapping their hands, streets gleam
ing with gold. uncounted multltudes ever
accommodating in number and ever rising up
into gladder hOSannaS. Ii you cannot
stand to look upon that JOY for at least one
hour, how could you endure to dwell among
it forever? You would wish yourself out of
it in three days and choose the earth again
or any other place where it was not always
| Sunday.
My nearer in worldly prosperity, affluent.
honored, healthy and happy, look in upon
that company of the redeemed, and see how
| the poor soul in Heaven is better off than
you are. brighter in apparel. richer in
estate, higher in power. Hearers afflicted
and tired, look in through that open door
| that you may see to what gladness and glory
| you are coming, to what life, to what riches,
to what royalty Hearers, pleased to fasci
| nation with this world, gather up your
souls for one appreciative look upon riches
that never fly away, upon health that never
| SlckenS, upon ScepterS that never break,
upon expectations that are never disap-
| pointed. Look in and see if there are not
enough crowns to pay us for all our battles,
enough rest to relieve all our fatigues,
| enough fountains to quench all our thirst,
| enough glory to dash out for ever and ever
all earth's signing and restlessness and
darkness Battles ended, tears wiped
away, thorns plucked from the bosoms,
stabs healed, the tomb riven-what a scene
| to look upon!
| Again, the door of Heaven stands open
for the Christians final entrance. Death
to the righteous is not climbing high walls
or fording deep rivers, but it is entering an
open door, If you ever visit the old home
stead where you were born, and while
| father and mother are yet alive, as you go
up the lane in front of the farm house. and
put your hand on the door and lift the latch,
! do you shudder with fear? No, you are
glad to enter. SO your last sickness will be
only the lane in front of your Fathers
house, from which you hear the vote of
singing before you reach the door. And
DEATH that is the lifting of the latch before
you enter, the greetings and embraces OF
the innumerablc family of the righteous.
Nay, there is no latch, for John says the
door is already open. What a company
of spirits have already entered those por-
| tails, bright and shining. Souls released
from the earthly prison house, how they
shouted as they went through! Spirits that
sped up from the flames of martyrdom, max
ing Heaven richer as they went in, pouring
their notes into the celestial harmony.
And that door has not begun to shut. II
redeemed by grace we all shall enter it.
This side of it we have wept, but on the
other side of it we shall never weep. On
this side we may have grown sick with
WEAKNESS, but on the other side of it we
shall be without fatigue On this side we
bleed with the warriors wounds, on the
other side we shall have the vctor's palm.
When you think of dying what makes your
brow contract, what makes you breathe so
deep and sigh? What makes you gloomy
in passing a graveyard? Follower of Christ
you have been thinking that death is some
thing terrible, the measuring of lances with
powerful antagonist, the closing in of a