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tabernacles, one for Thee, one for Moses and one
for Elias, and let us stay here and do nothing but
make music and be happy.” Never had the harp of
their souls played such music as that day.
Just then God, referring to Jesus, and to the light
of transfiguration glory, said: “This is my Son,
in whom I am well pleased. Hear ye him.” In
stantly Jesus got up, as if to say, “Hear me by
watching what I do.” He looked down at the base
of that mountain and saw a great multitude, and in
that multitude were the sick and the sorrowing, the
suffering and the needy. Jesus made haste down
the mountain slope from the scene of transfiguration
glory, down where the people were, down to the
place of need, down to the place of service.
THE STRING IN HARMONY.
The first man with whom he came in contact was
a man whose son had the devil in him, and he said:
“Lord, my son is vexed with a devil. He is a luna
tic.” The first thing that Jesus did after the
great transfiguration glory was to drive the devil
out of a father’s son, a father whose heart was
broken, caught the first service of the transfigured
Lord.
My brethren, there is a lesson there for us. It
is mighty nice to stay together and shout and clap
our hands and praise God. I like it. It is a mighty
nice experience. I have been at times in an old
camp meeting and I thought that I could just stay
there the rest of my life and shout and sing and just
live upon the very mountain tops. But there is
something else besides that. Jesus could not stay
always on the Mount of Transfiguration, nor could
he allow his disciples to stay there. Jesus was just
as close to heaven and just as much in touch with
God down among the rabble, grappling with the
devil, on the mountain top, breathing in the
very atmosphere of the heavenly world.
Ir order that our spirituality shall be kept, in
order that it shall be maintained, in order that it
may be perfected, there must be in all of our wor
ship a string of service to God, and this string of
service must not be allowed to be idle. It must
no more be idle than any of the rest.
But, my brethren, suppose we have all of these
things. Suppose we have salvation. Suppose wc
have assurance of it. Suppose we are definitely
dedicated to God. Suppose we are baptized with
the Spirit. Suppose we serve even as Jesus served.
Is that all? That may be all so far as our instru
ment is concerned, but there is one thing else just
as essential, and that is the atmosphere in which our
instrument is to be kept. You take a harp at its
best. Key it perfectly. Place it in a murky, damp,
malarious, germy atmosphere, and you have soon
got an instrument out of key, out of harmony, that
will make no music. In order for it to play it has
got to be kept in a pure atmosphere, and in that
pure atmosphere you can depend on it, when the
fingers of the trained musician strike it there will
be music.
It is so with respect to the music that is to come
from the harp of the soul. It is dependent upon
its atmosphere. There must be the atmosphere of
prayer. That atmosphere of prayer must be per
petually maintained or the music will not come when
the keys are touched by the fingers of God.
Last summer I attended a ehautauqua and heard
a lecture on wireless telegraphy by one who was a
scientist in the truest sense of the word. I pledge
you my word I was never more thrilled than when
listening to that man tell about the mystery of the
world —wireless telegraphy, wireless telephones and
the like.
I cannot go into it. I have not the time, nor am
I able, but I do wish to use a bit of what I got
from him to impress what I want to leave with you.
One of the experiments that he made was this:
FROM THE WORLD OF SCIENCE.
After telling us about the ether of the atmosphere,
which no man understands, but that we have learned
by experiment something of how to utilize it, latei
telling us about this ether that is going through me
now and through you at the same time, he said.
“Now, here on this table are a number of instru
ments. There is a bell suspended. Here is a light
on a stand—at least a globe in which there is a
wire ready for a light—an ordinary telegrapher’s
keyboard.” Then he lifted the table to show us
The Golden Age for February 27, 1908.
that there were no wires connecting it with any
thing. He placed another table on the other side
of the platform, and put on that table an ordinary
telegrapher’s battery, and extending up from that
straight into the air was a piece of metal,
with a broader piece of metal on the top of that,
so as to arrest this ethereal current.
“Now,” said he, “you see that this table like
wise is not connected with any wires anywhere.
Now watch and I will show you some wireless teleg
raphy. Understand, I cannot explain it except by
saying that it is the result of putting in motion
the waves of ether. These waves will strike the
keys on the other side and make them respond to
the keys on this side.”
The telegraph instrument which he had connected
to the battery was muffled, so that we could hear
the other instrument click. He began to send a mes
sage, and the other instrument on the other table,
though they were connected by no wires whatever,
began to tick off the message so that telegraphers
seated in the audience could understand the mes
sage. By touching another key he rang the bell.
He touched another and set the windmill going.
He touched another key and the gun fired. When
he touched another key the incandescent globe light
ed, and then he touched all the keys, and everything
moved.
Now, how did they move? They moved because
each instrument on the table was built upon a
key that corresponded to some key on the other ta
ble. Exactly the same voltage that it took to run
the windmill he had in this key that he touched,
and when he touched it, it put instantly into vibra
tion these invisible, ethereal waves, which, acting
upon an instrument of like voltage on the other side,
started it going.
He told this story byway of illustrating this
principle of harmony and unison, which is, to my
way of thinking, the finest story for the purpose
I desire to use this morning that I have ever known.
He said that a number of years ago a spiritualist
in a certain section of the world was creating a
great sensation and stir among the people who wit
nessed his seances. He was the one wonder among
all the wonders of the spiritualistic world, and the
one feat that he performed with such amazing won
der was that of the playing of the harp by the fin
gers of departed spirits.
He would put a beautiful instrument down upon
the stage, then announce to his audience that, if
they would call for the departed spirit of any
great musician, he would come from the spirit
world and play his favorite composition upon this
harp. A number of calls for different musicians
would be called, and he would select one from
among the number whom he saw fit to invoke, and
then a magical silence would sit upon the audience.
AND THEN THE MUSIC CAME.
He would say, “You must be perfectly quiet, ab
solutely still, so that you may catch the first deli
cate touch upon the chords of the harp,” and as
they would sit in perfect stillness, softly the music
from the harp strings would steal out of the instru
ment and bathe the crowd in its magic—louder
and louder and louder until the great audience would
be literally convulsed in mystery.
One day there was in the audience a great scien
tist, and as he witnessed this performance, seeing
that there were no wires, seeing that there was no
attachment whatever between the harp and the plat
form, he began to think about it, and he said to
himself, “There is an explanation for that.” lie
set himself to work to find it, and in a few days he
succeeded.
He went down into a room underneath the plat
form, and hid himself away in the dark. At the
time for the seance to begin, in came a great heavy
handed musician with a tremendous harp. This harp
was literally and absolutely keyed to the strings
of the harp upstairs on the platform just overhead.
At the time for the performance to begin there was
a tap, tap from the heel of the spiritualist, indicat
ing to the musician what to play. Then he began
upon the strings of his harp to make the music
of the master whose name had been selected, and
as his great ponderous instrument vibrated the
tones of the music, the harp upstairs, being keyed
absolutely and perfectly to the instrument down-
stairs, found its strings, more delicate and refined
responding to the same touch, though no man could
see the hand that played. It was nevertheless the
hand of man that did it, and there, in full view
sat the harp, supposedly playing itself, or being
played by the mysterious hand of a visitor from the
skies; but, my brethren, hear me, and God help
you to remember it; that never could have occurred
unless there had been perfect harmony and unison
between the harp in the cellar and the harp on the
platform, and when that harmony and unison ex
isted, not only that harp, but a hundred, yea, a
thousand, other harps keyed likewise would have
played, and so it is with respect to the music that
every one of us would like to make upon the harp
of the soul. If we would have our harp strings
vibrate, if we would have flowing forth the sweet,
entrancing harmony of the skies, we have got to
so live that our harp strings will be in tune with
the harp strings of glory. Everything in our lives
must be such as to please Him, who, after all, is
to make the music upon the harp strings of life.
Oh, may the great God fill your spirits, as He
has filled mine, with the longing after the expe
rience that lives perpetually in the realm of heart
music where we will be making melody in our hearts
unto God!
Mission Union Meeting.
The Woman’s Baptist Mission Union of Atlanta
and vicinity will meet with the Grant Park Bap
tist Church February 28, at 3 o’clock p. m. Fol
lowing are the speakers for the afternoon:
Devotional Exercises —Dr. D. S. Edenfield.
Song —All Hail the Power.
“Our Responsibilities to the Jews” —Dr. John D.
Jordan.
“The Jewish Mission in Atlanta” —Mrs. W. F.
Clark.
Solo.
“A Work Dear to the Hearts of Baptist Wom
en” —Mrs. Sam I). Jones.
Song, by children of Grant Park church.
“Our Travelers’ Aid Work” —Mrs. Dr. McFad
den Gaston.
“W. B. M. U. Institute Work of Georgia”—Mrs.
Dr. Young, of Decatur.
Take the Georgia avenue, or the Woodward ave
nue, car and get off at the junction of Georgia ave
nue and Grant street.
Mrs. Willie L. Featherston, Reporter.
* M
Among the Workers.
An editorial in an exchange asks: “Shall we
bury the dead?” and proceeds to write an obituary
of a dead prayer meeting, describing minutely the
symptoms that preceded its final catalysis. These
symptoms are familiar: small attendance, listless
manner in those that attend, the room only half
lighted, the leaders not half prepared, mentally,
physically, or spiritually for the hour’s work, the
songs dull, the scriptures selected al haphazard, the
talks with nothing in them, and the prayers a
long lip service.
That is a pessimistic picture, yet it is no cari
cature. That is just the way a dying prayer meet
ing looks, but it is never as bad as it looks, after
all. All religion in that church is out there at
that mid-week prayer meeting. Those brethren who
are there are not drawn by the force of attractive
ness in the prayer meeting; there is no such force.
They are there because they love the Lord and love
the brethren, and don’t have to wait to have their
ears tickled before they feel drawn to that hour’s
service. They go in spite of the fact that there
is nothing there to attract. The propelling force is
in their own hearts, and they never complain about
the deadness, and the Lord is not far off, and
the doors not shut against him. There is life in
that body of worshippers, and let me tell you that
dying prayer meeting has the life of the whole
church shut up in it. If that prayer meeting dies,
it would be about as well to bury the whole church
together as to cut the heart out of it and bury it.
What use could there be for the mutilated carcass
after the life had gone out of it; after its very
heart had been extracted and buried?
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