The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1915-04-10
TWIN CITY NEWS

yet with the sharp-shod shoes of criti-
cism humbly removed let these words
be written. And further be it said
that it is too frequently matter of
painful and sorrowing surprise to see
in some churches the thoughtless con-
duct of those who seem to forget that
in the choir they are employing their
great gift to glorify and please that
Hidden and Patient Presence who
gazes upon them and listens to them
from the altar.
Before going forward to the spiritual
character of the occasion, and before
worldly thoughts are banished with
the words, "Afar, afar, We profane!"
perhaps the remark may be suffered
that it is really when viewed from
above that Easter bonnets are quite
beautiful; to be sure, from below they
may be beautiful through reflection,
though from that point of view they
can never attain to the sense, senti-
ment and grace of the "mantilla," but
it is only from above that they are
beautiful in themselves, for their
idiosyncracies of shape are then lost
in radiant, glowing blend of colors
more varied, warmer and more replete
with ocular satisfaction than ever liv-
ing flowers could be, spangled over
the mellow green's of an untrodden
dell.
But, banishing this worldly distrac-
ton, which, like all distractions, is
entirely out of place and reprehensible
in church, let us lift our hearts to
holier thoughts. Let us beg forgive
ness not only for looking about at, but
even for looking down on our neigh
boris adornment.
AS one looks toward the chancel the
beautiful sight that satisfied the
artistic sense on Maundy Thursday is
no longer to be seen, for the Sane
tuary of Repose" has been removed
than which in many churches in sew
eral countries the writer never looked
on one more chastely artistic; more
ornate, yes; more gorgeous, again yes;
but more beautiful in the simple grace
that has immortalized the deathless
works of art, never! The beauty of
simplicity never clogs.
And the remembrance of that altar
recalls the procession; the children in
bridal apparel as befitteth the Bride
groom on the eve of His espousals in
blood to His Beloved the mystic
church of His eternal choice and love;
the little ones in their innocence car
peting the pavement with roses so
that the thought of them and their
childish purity and love may gladden.
Him a little on the sore journey He
must tread unhonored and weary on
the sorrowful morrow; and the babe
that stretched out it's little arms to
His smile as He passed; there were
few eyes that were dry, there were
few hearts that did not CULVER with
grief at the thought that they were
not clean as that babes, but soiled,
oh, so very soiled.
Good Friday with it's death has gone
into the treasure-house of God and an
eloquent voice is now proclaiming the
resurrection of the Saviour and our
own; our present resurrection out of
the grave of sin, our future into the
arms of our Saviour who pitied us as
He passed by us last Holy Thursday
and pondered upon again, perhaps for
the second time, maybe, alas! for the
tenth or the six hundredth the holi-
ness of the infant who stretched out
to Him it's little arms as he was car
ried by.
To say that sermon was eloquent,
was beautiful, that would be to use
words that have been worn out in plati-
tudes on the puerilities of life; but
to say that it was the tongue of fire
from the consuming love of a sanity
soul is to utter what must he true, is
to say that it was the fiery tongue of
light and grace and endurance unto
many.