National Republican (Washington City

SABBATH SERVICES

The Grand Army Sermon at the Church of the Reformation.

Dr. Parsons Discourses on the Battle of Life.

Rev. Dr. Rankin on the Kingdom of Truth and the Royalty of Christ.

Beautiful Sunday and Well Filled Churches.

THE CHRISTIAN'S WARFARE.

THE ANALOGIES BETWEEN SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL SOLDIERING.

At the Church of the Reformation on Capitol hill Rev. Dr. Parsons yesterday delivered a sermon appropriate to memorial day services. Kit Carson Post, No. 2, G. A. R., and large delegations from various other posts were in attendance. The text was Ephesians, chapter vi, 13. "Take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand."

The preacher dwelt upon the old-fashioned character of the Bible; the homely style in which its truths were put, but none the less forcible because homely; the naturalness of its spirit. No matter how antique be its dress, and its frequency of illustration drawn from the soldier life. God is a shield; Christ the captain of our salvation; we are under orders to fight the good fight of faith; and thousands of similar phraseology. The reason was obvious. Life is a battle. Out of God's armory must we be equipped for the contest? And then the preacher continued.

But now I am going to turn aside for a moment to speak a few words especially appropriate to the occasion that calls us together to-day.

In the general order of the department commander respecting the observance of memorial day occurs the following most appropriate sentence:

"It is recommended that comrades of all the posts attend divine service on the Sunday preceding memorial day, thus reminding ourselves that the matchless blessings won for us by the sleeping comrades, whose memory we are about to honor, were sought for by all the loyal people with fasting and supplication."

The history of the custom of decorating the graves of those soldiers who fell in the struggle twenty years ago is much like the history of every such observance. It takes its origin in the instinctive promptings of the soul. At first without any preconcerted plan; then later a few here and there agree to do this thing on some set day. Others at other times; but all of them in the spring or early summer, when flowers are in abundance and the new life of nature seems to whisper of the new life that shall be to all the dead; that has been to all the living because of the dead.

From these isolated cases arises the suggestion that a day shall be agreed upon by all; then legislation touches it to make the day a national holiday; thus the custom becomes universal. Out of what began as the instinctive promptings of a few souls we get an organic law, a fixed day, and a universal custom. This is the evolution of a rite, the development of an idea, and exactly describes a great many of the fixed things (ordinances, we call them) in religion.

They exist externally because they are rooted in our instinctive needs. For the instinct must always, in the very nature of things, be older than the custom or rite. The ordinance is divine because it is human. And in one way you can understand how the rigid rule may seem to subtract from the intensity of the first promptings of the soul. To decorate the graves, according to act of congress, is frigid, and all the beauty of the first unstudied offering is gone. To eat bread in remembrance of Christ, because He commands it, is transfixing the soul with the spear of duty. But let us see! Let men and women go only when they are moved to, and carry flowers as often as they are prompted by feelings of kindliness and gratitude for the memory of those who showed such patriotism as to lay down their lives in defense of the nation, and what will happen? You will get, for a time, from a few, a more spontaneous, purer offering. But 10,000 graves will lie untouched by any flower of affectionate remembrance. And in a little while there will be none to perform the simple office for any.

The continuance of the custom, therefore, depends upon enactment. Each one wishing to make a sincere offering, may; and thousands who otherwise would not, do; and the multitude is made, at least once in the rolling year, to stop and think, and bestow a flower or tear upon those who "gave the last full measure of devotion" that (as was eloquently said by the commander of all the armies in consecrating the national cemetery at Gettysburg) "that government of the people, for the people, by the people, might not perish from the earth." I follow this out in detail for the sake of the light it throws upon the genesis and development of religious customs. At first they are the simple notions of sentiment and instinct in an isolated few. Some pray, some build altars, some offer sacrifices, and from the blind gropings of the few there is by and by a law laid down for the many. Souls, separated by thousands of years, of differing nationality, speak of an inner voice, and call to their fellows in tones of encouragement, consolation, positiveness, declaring that God is with them. We call it inspiration. We say the world is a wilderness; but so many rare souls have explored in it before us that they have worn a path for us in which we may walk with confidence. We say the life of every thinking, conscientious man is a battle, but the result is not doubtful, seeing there are the same old enemies of evil and doubt which have been put to flight a thousand times. It is a good omen therefore that this memorial day is given religious interpretation and is kept in a religious spirit. For all the most serious things of life—all things of sentiment, all of instinct and affection, all are naturally linked in some way with religion. Indeed they are of themselves religious. How can we go to any grave with hope divorced from faith? But let me give you two or three thoughts called out especially by the recurrence of this day. And for one thing I think we are impressed with—

1. The rapid flight of the years. It is twenty years since Gettysburg. A generation grown up since then. Of the 2,000,000 who enlisted even the youngest are passing into middle life. The older ones are gray haired. All are veterans now. And year by year many drop out of the ranks and sleep by the wayside. What a little thing is life if we look at it in this way.

2. And yet to look at it in another way, what a great thing it is, since duty and devotion are after all the only things of worth. It seemed hard for the moment that so many should be compelled to perish.

But from the point to which we have come to-day we look back to get at least this light on it: Of all who fell in the war a large proportion would now be in their graves at any rate. In twenty years more the grand army will not be a very large one. And, living or dead, it is the best thing always that can be said of a man, "He did his duty."

3. I think as we lay flowers on the graves of the dead we may note the fact that grows daily more evident—that all sectional animosities are being rapidly buried. The joint reunion of a Virginia and New York regiment, and the return of the captured flags during the past week, was significant of the spirit that is in the air. It does not mean, as some mistakenly infer, that the war was for nothing; or that to decorate the graves of the fallen is robbed of all significance.

My attention has been called to a communication in a leading New York daily paper, in which it is intimated that the north has forgotten not only all animosity, but all gratitude as well. But it is not so! Two causes are at work to diminish in this generation the volume of gratitude to the dead, gauging it by an interest in memorial day.

(a.) The survivors (who naturally take the most lively interest in memorial day) are being rapidly reduced in number.

(b.) It is always so that the generation immediately following any great movement in history is blinded to the real meaning of it. They have moved on far enough to lose distinct vision, but not far enough to turn about and leisurely survey the field through the glass of history. But further, our war was a civil war—that is, it was a family quarrel (most unnatural) in which, like all quarrels of brothers, every victory is really defeat, and all glory in one way shame, that brothers should fight. But unnatural as it is, it is even more unnatural for them to continue in hostility. Alien peoples keep their quarrels alive. Beneath the truce of peace slumbers desire for revenge—as even now between France and Germany. Their peace is like the quiet on the green slope of a volcano, whose fury is likely to burst forth again at any moment and blacken all the fair face of nature. But our quarrel is over, and the heartfelt prayer of all north and south is, God grant that nothing like it may ever again come to divide what God has joined together. A very natural question, therefore, is what is to become of this memorial day? Is there a place for it as a nation's holiday? Will there be any use for it in the next generation? (a.) In itself? Yes. The graves will remain. (b.) What it leads to? Yes; other graves. It widens. I have noticed others choosing this day. And affection grows. In Japan they have an annual festival called "The Feast of Lanterns." The graves are illuminated, and a most touching sight it is to see how wide a hold this instinct has on the race that draws us to the graves of our dead. Truly, "One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." And in thinking of it I have wondered whether we of the grand army might not be preparing the way for some such universal custom that should abide forever with our nation's life, originating in the thought and care of one soldier for the grave of his comrade, maintained till the last comrade was laid to rest; meanwhile spreading, north and south after a while choosing the same day, associated all the while with such religious observances as point from the rest of the grave to the hope of eternal life in Jesus Christ our Lord.

If this should be the history of this observance we should be able to see another of those compensations that always come with every bad thing. Out of war we should get the refinement of sentiment; out of the slayer, honey.

And now, in conclusion, let me recall to you once more my text: "Take the whole armor of God." And, as one who would speak a word for your good, let me urge upon each of you to take this true soldier position in religious matters. Do all in your power; trust God; believe him; resist the devil; and having done all, stand! Quit you like men. Be strong, that at the last we may all be of the army of the redeemed, the church triumphant in heaven. And this is my prayer for you all.

Amen.