THE
CHURCH, WALKING WITH THE WORLD
1
The
Church and the World walked far apart
On
the changing shore of time-
The
World was singing a giddy song,
And
the Church a hymn sublime.
"Come,
give me your hand," said the merry World,
"And
walk with me, this way!”
But
the good Church hid her. Snowy hands
And
solemnly answered, "Nay,
I
will not give you my hand,” she said,
“And
I will not walk with you;
Your
way is the way of eternal death;
And
your words are all untrue.”
2
“Nay,
walk with me but a little space,”
Said
the World with a kindly air;
"The
road I walk is a pleasant road,
And
the sun shines always there;
Your
path is narrow and thorny and rough,
While
mine is flowery and smooth;
Your
lot is sad with, reproach and toil,
While
in rounds of joy I move.
The
sky to me is always blue,
No
want, no toil I know;
The
sky above you is always dark,
Your
lot is a lot of woe.
My
way, you can see, is a broad fair one,
And
my gate is high and wide;
There
is room enough for you and for me,
And
we'll travel
side by side."
3
Half
shyly the Church approached the world
And
gave him her hand of snow;
And
the old World grasped, it and walked along,
And
whispered in accents low,
"Your
dress is too simple to please my taste;
I
have gold and pearls to wear,
Rich
velvets and silks for your graceful form,
And
diamonds to deck your hair.”
The
Church looked down at her plain white robes,
And
then at the dazzling World,
And
blushed as she saw his handsome lip
With
a smile contemptuous curled.
4
"I
will change my dress for a costlier one,
Said
the Church with a smile of grace;
Then
her pure white garments drifted away,
And
the World gave in their place,
Beautiful
satins, and fashionable silks,
And
roses and gems and pearls;
While
over her forehead her bright hair fell
Crisped
in a thousand curls.
5
"Your
house is too plain,” said the proud old World,
"I
will build you one like mine;
With
walls of marble and towers of gold,
And
furniture ever so fine.”
He
built her a costly and beautiful house;
Most
splendid it was to behold;
Her
sons and her beautiful daughters dwelt there
Gleaming
in purple and gold;
Rich
fairs and shows in the halls were held ,
And
the World and his children were there,
Laughter
and music and feasting were heard
In
the place that was meant for prayer.
There
were cushioned seats for the rich and gay,
To
sit in their pomp and pride;
But
the poor who were clad in shabby array,
Sat
meekly down outside.
6
"Your
preachers are all too old and plain,"
Said
the gay World with a sneer
"They
frighten my children with dreadful tales,
Which
I like not for them to hear.
They
warn of judgments- and fire and pain,
Of
doom of the darkest night,
And
speak of a place that should not be,
Mentioned
to ears polite.
I
mil send you some of a better stamp;
More
brilliant and gay and fast,
Who
will show how men may live as they list,
And
then get to heaven at last.
The
Father is merciful, great, and good,
Tender,
loving and kind,
Do
you think He would take one child to heaven!
And
leave another behind?”
So
she sent for pleasing and gay divines,
Deemed
gifted and great and learned,
And
the plain old men who had preached the cross
Were
out of her pulpits turned.
7
Then
Mammon came in supporting the Church,
And
rented a prominent pew;
And
preaching and singing and floral display
Proclaimed
a gospel new.
Then
fair and festival, frolics untold
Were
held in the place of prayer,
And
maidens, bewitching as sirens of old,
With
worldly graces rare,
Thought
up the very cunningest tricks,
Untrammeled
by gospel or laws,
To
beguile, and amuse, and win from the World
Some
help for the righteous cause.
8
The
angel of mercy flew over the Church,
And
whispered, “I know thy sin!"
Then
the Church looked sad and earnestly longed
To
gather her children in.
But
some were out at the midnight ball,
And
some were at the play;
And
some were drinking in gay saloons,
So
she quietly turned away.
Then
said the World in soothing tones,
"Your
children mean no harm,
Merely
indulging in innocent sports."
So
she leaned on his proffered arm,
And
smiled, and chatted, and gathered flowers,
And
walked along with the World.
While
countless millions of precious souls
O'er
the fearful brink were hurled.
9
“You
give too much to the poor,” said the World,
"Far
more than you ought to do.
Though
the poor need shelter, food, and clothes,
Why
should that trouble you?
And
afar to the
heathen in foreign lands
Your
thoughts need never roam-
The
Father of mercies will care for them.
Let
charity stay at home.
Go,
take your money and buy rich robes,
And
horses and carriages fine;
Roses,
and jewels, and dainty food,
And
rarest and costliest wine;
My
children just dote on all these things,
And
if you their love would win,
You
must do as they do, and walk in the way
That
they are walking in.
10
So
the Church drew tightly the strings of her purse,
And
gracefully lowered her head,
And
simpered, "I've given too much away,
I
will do, Sir, as you have said."
So
the poor were turned from her door in scorn;
She
heard not the orphan's cry;
She
drew her beautiful robes aside
As
the widows went weeping by.
Her
missions treasuries beggarly pled,
And
Jesus commands were vain,
As
half the millions for whom He died
Had
never heard of His name.
11
Then
they of the Church and they of the World
Walked
onward hand and heart,
And
only the Master, who knoweth all,
Could
tell the two apart.
Then
the Church sat down at her ease, and said,
“I
am rich and in goods increased;
I
have need of nothing and naught to do
But
to laugh and dance and feast."
The
sly World heard it and laughed in his Sleeve,
And
mockingly said, aside--
"The
Church has fallen, the beautiful Church;_
And
her shame is her boast and her pride."
12
The
angel drew near to the mercy seat,
And
whispered in sighs her name;
Then
the loud anthems of rapture were hushed,
And
heads were covered with shame;
And
a voice was heard at last by the Church,
From
Him who sat on the throne,
"I
know thy works, and how thou hast said
“I
am rich” but thou hast not known
That
thou art poor and naked and blind,
With
pride and with ruin enthralled.
The
intended bride of a heavenly groom
Is
companion of the World.
Go,
humble thy heart and confess thy sin,
Let
shame now cover thy face,
Or
else--alas--I must cast thee out,
And
blot thy name from its place.
Matilda
C. Edwards
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