Religion in the Home'. 2
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It was thus that God himself commanded his ancient people to do—"You must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are away on a journey, when you are lying down and when you are getting up again. Tie them to your hands as a reminder, and wear them on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:6-9. This was the divine plan for bringing up a family—not a lesson now and then—but the incessant, uninterrupted and continuous teaching of the Holy Scripture in the ears of the children. Such teaching unconsciously assimilates the character to the divine likeness. Can any parents who desire to see their children become Christians, afford to lose out of the school for their nurture, these mighty influences? Even if there were no family prayer, the mere daily reading of the Scriptures year after year continuously would be in itself an inestimable influence for good. But where prayer is added, the household waiting together daily around God's feet while heavenly gifts and favors are tenderly supplicated, who can sum up the total of blessing? What parent can afford to omit this duty and lose out of his home nurture, this mighty element of power?
The excuses that are offered for the omission are familiar. One pleads lack of time. But he finds time for everything else which he really wants to do. Besides, time taken for duty is never lost! Will not the divine blessing on the day—be worth more than the few moments of time it takes to invoke it? Is there nothing worth living for in this world—but business and money-making? Is the pious culture of one's home such a trivial matter—that it must be neglected to get a few moments more each day for toiling and moiling in the fields of Mammon? Is the spiritual nurture of one's children so unimportant, that it may with impunity be crowded out altogether to give one time to sleep a little later, or read the morning paper more leisurely, or chat with one's neighbors a few minutes longer? But honesty will compel men to confess that this excuse is never offered in sincerity.
Another pleads timidity. He cannot make a prayer in his family. He would break down. But is timidity a sufficient plea to excuse one from a duty so solemn, on which such vital interests of time and eternity depend? We had better test all our actions as we go on through life by inquiring how they will look at the judgment day—or from amid their own consequences at the end. When a parent stands at God's bar and this sin of omission is charged against him, will his answer, "I was too shy," be sufficient to wipe out the charge? If his children, left unblessed in their tender years by the influence of household worship, grow up worldly and godless, drift away in sin and are lost—will it console the father and satisfy him, as he sits in the shadows of his old age and sees their ruin, to say, "I was too timid"? A Christian mother says that her husband is not a Christian, and that she has never had the courage to establish family worship. But many godly mothers have done so. There are mothers who every morning and every evening gather their children together, sing a hymn with them, read a chapter from God's Word and then bow in prayer invoking heaven's grace upon their heads and upon the beloved father. It would be easy to cite examples proving the power of such hallowed faithfulness. It may at first be a cross for a mother to take up—but, like all crosses taken up for Christ's sake and for love's sake—the burden becomes a joy and an uplifting influence, and out of the hard duty comes such blessing—that the hardness is soon forgotten!
There are men in heaven today or engaged now in earnest Christian service on the earth—because their godly wives had the courage to establish a family altar in the home. There are children all over the world in whose hearts the sweetest memory of early years is that of the tender moments in the old home when they bowed in the daily prayer and the mother with trembling tones implored God's blessing upon her household. It would be easy to add many other words to enforce and illustrate the importance of this duty. If these pages are read by parents who have no household altar, they are affectionately entreated, for the sake of their children, to set it up at once!
Family piety will bind the family more closely together. It will sweeten every joy and lighten every burden. It will brighten every path of toil and care. It will throw about the children a holy protection as they go out amid dangers. It will fill their hearts with the truths and influences of the divine Word. It will weave into the memory of their home golden and silver threads, which will remain bright forever. It will keep continually open, a way between the home and heaven, setting up a ladder from the hearthstone on earth—to the Father's house in glory, on which the angels shall come and go continually in faithful ministry. Blessed is the home which has its family altar whose fires never go out! But sad is the home, though it be filled with splendors and with the tenderness of human love, in which the household never gather for united prayer.
It is very important that the family worship be conducted in such a way as to interest the younger members of the household, and even the little children. It ought to be made thebrightest and most pleasant exercise of the day. In some instances it is rendered irksome and wearisome. Long chapters are read, and read in a lifeless and unintelligible manner. The prayer is the same day after day, a series of petitions of the most general kind, reaching out over all classes and conditions of men—except the little group that kneels about the altar, and embracing all the great needs and wants of the world—except the needs and wants of the family itself which bows together. If singing is part of the worship, the psalm or hymn is not carefully chosen for its appropriateness and fitness to the experiences and hearts of those who are to sing it. In the whole exercise there is nothing to win the attention of the children or to interest them in the holy service.
It is taken for granted that because it is a religious act—that it cannot be made pleasant and attractive, that children ought to sit still and listen attentively even if the service is dull and wearisome; and that it is an evidence of their depravity that they fidget and wriggle on their chairs or carry on their sly mischief while the 'saintly father' with closed eyes is droning over his stereotyped prayer. But there is no reason in the world why pious exercises should be made dull and irksome. The family worship should be of such a character that it would be anticipated with eagerness, and that its memories would ever be among the most hallowed recollections of the childhood's home.
Each portion of the exercise should be enlivened by pleasing variety. Instead of being stately and formal, it should be made simple and informal. Instead of requiring the children to listen in silence while the father goes through the whole worship alone, a part should be given to each member. Just in what manner it is best to do this—each household must decide for itself. Indeed, no one method is always best, as variety is one of the elements of interest. In some families the Scripture is read by verses in turn, every member reading. In others it is read responsively, the leader taking one verse and all the members together the next; in others the father alone reads.
The matter of the selection of passages to read, is important. Some heads of families follow the order of the Bible itself, going through it in course, not omitting a chapter or a verse, even stumbling over the long lists of names in the Chronicles. Many, in these later days, read the selection assigned for the day in the Home Readings in the Sunday-school lesson-helps. This is a good method, as it aids in the preparation of the lesson for the week, gathering the whole seven days' reading and study around some one Scripture passage in which the children are for the time particularly interested. An occasional topical lesson is pleasant and helpful. For instance, let the reading consist of verses in brief passages from different parts of the Bible, all bearing upon the central topic of the day's lesson. On some day in the spring, let all the verses that refer to flowers and plants be culled and read. When the first snow falls let all the passages that relate to snow be gathered from the Bible, with an appropriate word concerning each one. It will add to the interest in these exercises if the topic is announced in advance and each member of the family requested to find as many verses as possible bearing upon it. All Scripture-reading in the family worship will be brightened and its interest for children enhanced by an occasional explanatory remark or by an incident that illustrates the thought.
Singing should form part of the worship whenever possible. Occasionally—for instance, it will be found profitable to hold a little family service of song, reading a verse or two of Scripture and then singing a stanza of a psalm or hymn appropriate to the sentiment of the Bible passage.
The prayer in the household worship should be brief, particularly where the children are young. It should be fresh, free from all stereotyped phrases, couched in simple language that all can understand. It should be a prayer for the family at whose altar it is offered, not altogether omitting outside interests—but certainly including the interests of the household itself. It should be tender and personal, frequently taking up the members by name and carrying to the Lord the particular needs of each, remembering any who are sick, or in trouble, or exposed to danger or temptation. Some part in the prayer may also be given to the children. If the children are young they may repeat the entire prayer after the father, phrase by phrase. The Lord's Prayer may be used at the close, all uniting in it.
In these ways the whole family will be interested in the worship, and it will become a delightful exercise, full of profit and instruction and rich with influences for good.
But family worship is not enough. There are homes where prayer is never omitted, yet in which there is not the spirit of Christ; and only the spirit of Christ in a household makes a truly Christian home. If the altar is in the midst, the whole life of the home should be filled with the incense which burns upon it. There are some fields of grass from which in summer days rises a sweet fragrance, although not a flower is anywhere to be seen. But when you part the tall grass and look down among its roots, there, close on the ground, hidden under the showy, waving grass, you see multitudes of small flowers, modest and lowly, yet pouring forth a delicate and delicious aroma, filling all the air.
There are homes in which there is nothing remarkable in the way of grandeur or elegance, yet the very atmosphere as you enter is filled with sweetness, like "the smell of a field which the Lord has blessed." It is the aroma of love, the love of Christ shed abroad in human hearts. True religion is lived there. The daily prayers bring down the Spirit of heaven. Christ dwells there, and his blessed influence fills with divine tenderness, all the home life. It was said of one that "she looked like a prayer." If we would make our homes truly Christian homes—our daily lives must be like our daily prayers.
If the members of the family wrangle and quarrel, the fact that the father is a minister or an elder, and the mother president of a benevolent society, or secretary of an association to send the gospel to China, does not make the home religious. If a blessing is asked at the table before the meal begins, and if then, instead of cheerful and affectionate conversation, the table-talk is made up of faultfinding with the food, of ill-tempered disputes and acrimonious bickerings, the asking of a blessing scarcely makes the interaction Christian! If family worship is observed with scrupulous fidelity, and the members rise from their knees to violate the simplest lessons of Christian love and kindness in their interaction as a household—the fact that there is family worship does not make a Christian home. The prayers must be lived. The Scripture lessons must find their way into the heart—and then into the speech and conduct. The songs must sing themselves over and over all day—in the household interaction. The lips that have breathed the sacred words of family prayer—should never speak bitter, angry or unkind words. A home in which the altar has been set up is thenceforth a consecrated spot. To surrender it to bickerings and strifes is sacrilege. It is holy unto the Lord, and should be a scene only of love and tenderness, of joy and peace.
It is said that in Greenland when a stranger knocks at the door, he asks, "Is God in this house?" If the answer is "Yes," he enters. So blessings and joys pause at our doors and knock to ask if God is in our dwelling. If he is, they enter; if he is not, they flee away, for they will not enter or tarry in a godless home.
A young girl was employed in a wealthy but prayerless household, as a domestic servant. After spending one night under the roof, she came to her mistress pale and agitated and told her she could not stay with her any longer. When pressed for her reason she at length replied that she was afraid to live and sleep in a house in which there was no prayer. There are no heavenly blessings that will enter or abide, in a prayerless home. No divine guest is there. No wings of love droop down to cover the dwelling. It is a house without a roof, as it were—for it is written that God will pour out his fury upon the families which do not call upon his name. But into the home where God abides, heaven's richest blessings come, and come to stay. Angels encamp around it. It is roofed over with the wings of God. Its joys are all sweetened by the divine gladness. Its sorrows are all comforted by the divine sympathy. Its blessing rests upon all who go out from its doors. It is but the vestibule to heaven itself!
There is no inheritance which the richest parent can bequeath to a child, which can compare for one moment with the influence and blessing of a truly godly home! It gives to the whole trend of the life, away into the eternal years, such a direction and such an impulse that no after-influence, no false teachings, no terrific temptation, no darkening calamity, can ever altogether turn it away from its course. For a time it may be drawn aside by some mighty power of evil—but if the work in the home has been true and deep, permeating the whole nature, the deviation from rectitude will be but temporary.
If parents give money to their children, they may lose it in some of life's vicissitudes. If they bequeath to them a home of splendor, they may be driven out of it. If they pass down to them as a heritage only an honored name, they may sully it. But if they fill their hearts with the holy influences and memories of a happy Christian home, no calamity, no great sorrow, no power of evil, no earthly loss, can ever rob them of their sacred possessions! The home songs will sing themselves out again in the years of toilsome duty. The home teachings will knit themselves into a fiber of character, rich in its manly or womanly beauty, and invulnerable as a coat of armor. The home prayers will bind the soul with gold chains, fast round the feet of God. Then, as the years go on and the old home of earth is broken up, it only moves from behind, as it were, and goes on before, where it draws the soul toward the better life.
For there is a home in which this earthly home, even at its best—is but a type. Into that home—God is gathering his great family. The Christian household which is broken here or scattered—shall be reunited there. A father and his son were shipwrecked at sea. They clung to the rigging for a time, and then the son was washed off. The father supposed he was lost. In the morning the father was rescued in an unconscious state, and after many hours awoke in a fisherman's hut, lying on a soft, warm bed. He turned his face, and there lay his son beside him on the same bed. Just so, one by one our families are swept away in the sea of death. Our homes are emptied and our fondest ties are broken. But one in Christ Jesus, we shall awake in the heavenly world to see beside us again our loved ones whom we have lost here—yet who have only gone before us into the eternal home!
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