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FIFTEENTH SERVICE

How Piso Built

1. INVOCATION

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AST thou a word for me, O my Father? Open my ears to hear it. Speak now the word of counsel, of strength, of comfort, of warning or of promise, that shall make my life more profitable for myself, for others and for thee. And thou shalt have all the praise in Christ. Amen.

2. HYMN: “My faith looks up to thee." 3. SCRIPTURE LESSON

Eccles. 2:1-II.

I Cor. 3:9-23.

4. PRAYER

As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. The world is a weary world without thee. Its toil is like making bricks without straw, its pleasure is ashes on the lips and its strongest hope is as a spider's web. But thou, Lord, makest toil a pleasure and crownest sorrow with the hope of eternal glory. Come into my life, therefore, and fill it with thyself. Crowd out sin and all selfish desire. Make my life like the great Life that told its story

in beneficence and passed into the heavens by the way of the Cross. The world is full of sinful and suffering people who need thee, O Lord; and because they need thee, they need me. Use me therefore in their behalf. Make me quick to hear their cry for help and swift to answer it. Bless all those who have gone forth in thy name on errands of mercy. Speed them on their way so that they may come back at this eventide, saying, "Master, even the devils are subject unto us." Bless those who by reason of pain, sorrow, temptations or heavy burdens of responsibility have special need of thee. Give to rulers and magistrates a heart of wisdom that they may discharge their duties as in the great Taskmaster's eye. Have thy way among the nations of the earth and among all the children of men. Turn and overturn until the world shall be ready to receive thee. Then come and reign, King over all and blessed forever, for thy Name's sake. Amen.

5. HYMN: "I'm a pilgrim and I'm a stranger." 6. OFFERING

7. THE SERMON

How Piso Built

"I purpose to build a house unto the name of the Lord my God." (1 Kings 5:5.)

In the time of Cæsar Augustus, the Golden Age

of the Empire, a wealthy Roman, named Piso, resolved to build for himself a house that should withstand all the vicissitudes of time. He knew there would be natural convulsions and political turnings and overturnings; therefore he laid the foundation deep and made the superstructure of stone from the Alban Hills. And when all was completed he paid tribute to his own far-sightedness by inscribing over the doorway:

"PISO BUILDS FOR EVER"

The man meant well, but he reckoned without his host. Time that laughs at the permanence of the everlasting hills is not likely to respect the ambitious dreams of a builder whose breath is in his nostrils. To-day there is not one stone left upon another of the walls and buttresses of Piso's house. Only its arched doorway remains; and on its lintel Time scoffs at the boastful architect in the crumbling but still decipherable words,

"PISO BUILDS FOR EVER"

Twenty-seven hundred years ago on the coast of Sicily a priest of Neptune conceived the thought of building a temple that should stand forever. On the slope of a hill overlooking the Straits of Messina, where the world's commerce passed between the rock Scylla and the whirlpool Charybdis, it stood for centuries in honor of the pagan god of calms and tempests. But at length, in the passing of the years, the religion which it represented went out of fashion and Neptune himself passed into the

limbo of forgotten gods. A crucifix supplanted the graven image in the ancient shrine. That was nearly a thousand years ago; and still the fabric stood, with its giant columns and Norman portals, as if defying "the tooth of time and rasure of oblivion." But recently when all Sicily shook and trembled, that temple crumbled to its base, and a tidal wave, sweeping in from between the rocks and the whirlpool, completely overwhelmed it.

Is there any such thing, then, as building forever? Do all the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples thus dissolve and leave not a rack behind? Do all earth's dreams of immortality "melt into thin air"?

He who would build forever must not build of stones and mortar. Yet every one is bound to build: for life is structural. And destiny is involved in the quality of our architecture. Wherefore, as Paul says, "Let every man take heed how he buildeth;" for his work shall be made manifest of what sort it is; the day shall declare it and the fire shall try it.

The one product of human power that lasts forever is Character. Earthquakes cannot shake that; fires cannot burn it. He who builds Character builds forever. This, then, should be the ambition of every earnest soul.

But what of our plans and specifications? How do we "purpose to build"?

I. At the outset there must be a Clearing Away of Debris.

It is vain to undertake the building of character so long as there remains an old record of unforgiven sin. The mislived past must be disposed of.

But how? I know of only one possible way, namely: the Way of the Cross. In all the false religions and philosophies of the world, so far as I am aware, there is no rational suggestion as to the pardon of sin. There are many fine guesses at truth and splendid rules for right living; but no plan for the wiping out of old scores. In this the Gospel stands solitary and alone. Here a voice is heard calling, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool!"

Not long ago a man entered a Bowery lodginghouse in a spirit of desperation. He had been living at the pace that kills and had now reached the end of his tether. His sunken cheeks and watery eyes told the story of a hopelessly wasted life. The clerk behind the counter handed him a letter, which he received with shaking hands. The handwriting was that of his father, whom he had not seen for many years; not since the hand that wrote that superscription had driven him from home and closed the door behind him. Across the envelope was written the word "Immediate." He opened and read, "My son, come back! Let us bury the past; the door is open for you.'

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It is such a message as this that comes to every one who has wasted the opportunities of life. A

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