The Tupelo journal., 1903-05-22
CHRISTIAN RIPENESS.
Beauties of Old Age Likeneds Unto
Ripe Corn in the Ear.
Sermon by the Rev. VIM. \. Thompson OF
the First Methodist Church,
Memphis, Tenn.

season. job. 5 :26.
The age of these words we can
not tell. They were uttered before
the birth Of Moses; before the golden
age Of Greece; before the princely son
OF Amoz rolled from his poetic Tyre
the melodious music of the 'Messi-
ans peaceful reign. They are the
words OF a nan royalty endowed. He
had the gift of an inspiration and
the grace of generosity. His wonder
full poem, full of rhythm and music,
without a rival among all the treas
ures OF literature which the past has
handed down to the present. Men of
intellectual refinement, of rich mag
nation. Of depth and tenderness OF
feeling, have bowed to the wisdom of
Job. Men like Herder and Carlyle
have been captivated by the grandeur
OF this poem. mo cypress" said the
eloquent Herder, "f1ourishing in un-
fading green, marks the place of his
rest. With his unuttered name, he
has consigned to oblivion all that
was earthly, and, leaving his book
Tor a memorial below, is engaged in
a yet nobler song in that world where
the voice OF sorrow and mourning is
unheard, and where the morning stars
sing together"
Under the figure of a ripe shock of
corn, gathered from the autumn field,
he sets forth the cultured grace and
the chastened beauty of old age. But
these words have a deeper meaning,
a sweeter music, a richer pathos and
a higher inspiration for us than when
they were first uttered. We have the
accumulated wisdom of the ages, the
fragrant memories of the sanity dead
n the imperishable treasure
amassed by the sons of light, to en-
nance their value. We know more
of the %benignity and blessedness of
age, the crown of virtue. the divinity
of love and the %conquering power of
purity than the ancient poet whose
words we have quoted. We stand
in the current of the great thoughts
n rare experiences of the past. The
ever-enlarging chorus of r%everent and
lordly souls disappearing into the in
finite, updrawn by the beatific vision,
II leaving behind such testimonies,
invests these words with rarer beauty,
as light invests the dew with pearl,
and the fall of the bridal veil with
chrOmatic hues. The great achieve
ments of the world, the splendid vic
tories of mind, the wondrous harvests
of the Soul-all add to the dignity OF
man and his calmness in the hour OF
death.
How silent are the forces that ripen
the soul and crown its ministry with
freshness and light! How blessed
when time rounds a soul into serene
perfection. We have no means OF
ascertaining correctly the ripeness of
a soul, for the larger part of any life
is screened from mortal vision. Some
souls are like the finest marble, ca
pable of a very high polish, until they
look almost transparent. Others
ripen, but are never luminous and
crystalline. There are clean souls,
and there are beautiful souls. They
are winsome, because embellished
with Christian graces. Truth. as dis
cerned by the intellect. is white and
silVery, but when touched by spirit
ual affection is prismatic and charm
ing as the rainbow. Our blessed Lord
was not only clean, but beautiful.
His life embraced the golden circle
of ideal excellence And all souls in
their advanced stages of growth take
on Ornamentation. The external
beauty is the result of inward radi-
ance.
Some fruits, when ripe, have a lus-
trous glow; others, fully as ripe, lack
the exquisite color. Souls, like fruits,
ripen in different ways Some ripen
rapidly; others, slowly, but beautiful
ly; and whenever We are ripe we
shall fall from the tree of life. And
ought We to complain when souls have
ripened in the summer air? Is not
ripeness the final end of all things?
Perfection is ripeness-whether in
flower, in fruit, or a By this, we
do not mean the soul has reached
the limit of it's powers. This cannot
be said of the soul. When countless
years shall have passed away, the
possibilities of the soul will not be
exhausted. In that mysterious organ
ism are undiscovered continents Of
power. The soul will flower and fruit
en- forever. The higher it throws it's
branches in the summer air, and
the deeper it sinks it's roots into
the genial soil of heaven, the finer
will be the fruit. But it is essential
to drop the body; as the coverings
of the %chrysalis, before it can rise
to this supreme condition. Death
is the removal of an outgrowth after
it has accomplished it's work. 1t is
an essential stage in human progress.
1t is the gateway to endless life.
Souls, growing sweeter and more
amiable in their disposition, climb
ing higher and higher in the ether
Of a pure life, diffusing the holy in
cense of love around them-ever in
harmony with truth and goodness
are said to be ripening, and nearing
that perfection which the union of
the mortal and immortal allows.
How subtle and noiseless are the
forces that ripen the grain, that weave
the violet, paint the lily and the rose,
and give to birds their plumage and
their song? The earth swings
through space with a momentum equal
to the strength of trillions of horses,
and yet we hear no sound. In the
regions above US millions of worlds
are rolling in their orbits, and yet
there is stiffness. Gravitation, the
power that maintains order and har-
mony through the b~ewildering for
ests of immensely, is silent. And in
the overcoming Of evil. the conquer
ing of passion, the moulding of char
acter, the coming of beautiful
thoughts, like angels in a dream, there
is silence.
The beautiful imagery of Job seems
to imply that we should make time
a factor in ripening the soul, so that
when we go down to the grave we
should be like the shock of corn that
decks with gold the autumn field. AS