A Christian soul, sharing Christ's consciousness, believes far more in God Who is unseen, than in anything which can be seen; is far more certain of the infinite unseen, than of the finite seen. A Christian is more sure of God than of men, of eternity than of time, of the spiritual than of the material. All this is, of course, diametrically opposed to the consciousness of a man of the world. He is not sure of God, is indeed, an agnostic, yet imagines himself to be perfectly sure of man. He is not sure of eternity, but feels quite sure of time. He is by no means convinced of the reality of spiritual things, but is sure of things material. This contrast at once reveals the fact of testimony. The life of the Christian is a witness amid material things to the reality of the spiritual. I do not here merely mean that the Christian in speech will refer to God, to heaven, to spiritual things. All that he will assuredly do, but testimony in speech is of no avail save as the life of the one who speaks is being lived in actual relation to the things of which he speaks. It is this life of conscious relationship which is the most powerful testimony to the reality of these things. The essential greatness of the Puritans was that of their recognition of the spiritual realm, and of the eternities. They had their roughnesses, which after all, were but the excrescences of greatness, but they were men whose lives were centered in God, and circumferenced by the spiritual. Yet they were no dreamers, having lost their consciousness of, and sympathy with, the actualities of the passing day. As we look back on them through the centuries they are seen as giants, whose feet were firmly planted upon the earth, but whose heads ever seemed lifted into the heavenly spaces. They acted, they suffered, they even fought, but behind everything, as impulse of all, was a consciousness of God, and the value of spiritual things. Notwithstanding all the limitations of their age, they were such men as broke down tyrannies, emancipated peoples, and laid broad and strong the foundations of new nations. They did not retire from the midst of the corruption of the world, and give themselves to ascetic practices. They rather laid violent hands upon the world, wrestled with its problems, combatted its corruptions, and breathed into it the very spirit of life. Believing in God, they talked of Him, and toiled for Him. Having seen the vision of "the city that hath the foundations, whose builder and maker is God," through strain and stress and storm, they wrought toward the establishment upon this earth of conditions corresponding thereto. How well they wrought the centuries have told. Let their children ever be careful that on such foundations they build not hay, and wood, and stubble; but gold, silver, and precious stones.
Every devout Christian is in these deeper senses of the word, a Puritan, not perhaps resembling them in some of the accidental peculiarities of their age, but in essential testimony borne to the reality of the eternal, the unseen, the spiritual. A Christian then is one who lives among men, prosecuting his ordinary business, or professional avocation within the spaciousness of spiritual sight. A Christian will take hold of every duty, and fulfill it, recognizing its relation to an infinite order. In the simplest matters this will be true. In the selection of a dwelling place the infinite will never be lost sight of. Alas that this should so often be forgotten, and that by those professing to be Christians. In the choice of a house the principle of selection is so constantly material. The locality, the climate, the class of people dwelling in the neighbourhood, and so seldom the spiritual, the nearness of the sanctuary, the character of the ministry, the opportunity for the cultivation of the highest life of the children. This is not Christianity, it is rather civilized paganism. The true Christian will never forget the matter of supreme importance. The Christian youth will face life, asking the same question that all will ask. and yet with a different relation, and sense of values. What am I going to do with my life? is the question of all young people sooner or later. But the Christian will say, What am I going to do with my life in the light of eternity? How can I make the most of it for God? That is the true principle of selection. It is not unnatural, nor is it strained. To those who judge only by material standards it may seem a strange and unnecessary question. It is the natural principle of selection to the truly Christ-filled soul. The home, the calling in life, the recreation, everything in short, is to be decided upon, and held in relation to infinite values and realities. Nothing is judged in the light of today, but all in the light of the ages to come. The Christian stands forever, not in the circumscribed circle of the passing hour, but in the infinite circle of the eternal life. All such as live in this conscious and manifest relation to the spiritual and unseen will bear testimony to the reality of the spiritual; and, indeed, will do more to convince the world of that reality than all philosophic arguments.
The value of the life of the Christian to God then is first of all its testimony to the actuality and supremacy of spiritual things.
—G. Campbell Morgan
