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THE BRANDED BROW.BT FRANK W. BOREHAM,(Author of “The Luggage of Life/’ Mountains in Mint, Etc.)A BAFFLING PROBLEM.It was a Sunday evening. The old miniHtcr hud just returned from church, and sank, tired out, into the cosy arm-chair by the fireside. UU little granddaughter, Margery, was allowed to sit up late ou Sunday evenings that she might have u talk with grandpa before she went to bed. This was the treat of theweek. And not to Margery alone. For the old manknew no relaxation more refreshing, after the arduous labours of the pulpit, than to take the wee girlie upon his knee, and let her prattle to her heart's content. But this evening her tinv brow was clouded. A problem baffled her.••What is it, lassie?’’ asked the minister.“I've been reading about heaven, grandpa, while you were at church, and there’s one thing I can’t make out. My Bible says that there shall be no sickness, nor sadness, nor sighing in heaven. 1 like that. And it Bays that those who are there shall never hunger nor thirst; and I understand that. But it says that•‘His name shall be in their foreheads.’’ What does that mean, grandpa? Who will write the name of Jesus on their foreheads?”••Why, they will write it themselves, of course, girlie. * ’“Write it themselves, grandpa! But how?”“Why, Margery, we are every day writing the names of our masters on our foreheads. Some people make a sad mistake and serve sin, and sin stamps its seal on their faces. Borne serve care, and care brands their foreheads with deep wrinkles. Health, anger, hate, love, jealousy, joy, all set their mark upon the faces of those who follow them. And those who love the Lord Jesus, Margery, and walk with Him, and do His will, write the name of their dear Master in their foreheads. They cannot help it.”THE PROBLEM SOLVED.And Margery looked silently, wonderingly, up into her grandfather's face. She glanced at the shock of grey hair that, like a crown of glory, circled the old man’s brow. She looked into tlie deep and kindly eyes, Htill glowing with the enthusiasm which the pulpit had inflamed. She gazed tenderly upon that splendid face and massive forehead, so expressive to her of everything that was noble and beautiful and true. And then she cried, “I think I understand now, grandpa!’ flung her arms about his neck, kissed him, and scampered off to bed.Margery had solved a profound problem.There is nothing arbitrary or artificial about that process. Tt is perfectly natural and easy and simple. The brand upon the brow is not placed there by others. We grave it there ourselves. We choose the lords who shall have dominion over us: and everything else comes as a matter of course. Passion or purity, love or hate— serve whom you will; but in process of time the name of your lord shall be found in your forehead.A PAIR OF WITNE88ES.And now. having told my storv. and pointed unmoral—in the most orthodox and approved fashion—I shall subpmna a pair of witnesses. The first, shall be an eminent photographer, and the second a famous beauty specialist. The eminent photographer is Mr. Mendelssohn, of London, who lias been taking the public into his confidence. In the course of a most readable article he says that “one of the best evidences for religion is the ty|e of face that the essentially religious life produces.” Now think of that for a moment, as coming from a professional student of physiognomy. “One of the best evidences for religion is the type of face that the essentially religions life produces.” Have we not here a rare sidelight on the text that puzzled little Margery? ‘'His name shall be in their foreheads. ” Of course it shall.Now for the beauty specialist. He was asked the other day how to make the mouth truly beautiful, and to keep its lines perfect, and this was his reply, No mouth,” he said, “can show chronic discontent and fretfulness and retain the slightest claim to good looks. Many women don’t realise it, but the mouth is the most expressive feature of the face. Character marks it as it marks no other feature. Of course, a girl can’t change her whole personality; but she can look in the glass every day and say, “Am 1 getting set, cross lines about my mouth? Has it a drooping, discontented expression, and maybe, in doing so. she will get rid of some of the discontent that causes it. I’m not talking now about the “noble discontent” with evils that can be remedied—that doesn’t bring uglv lines—but of the morbid, useless discontent some girls cherish. There is small use in applying toilet creams, massage, and nil that, if a girl permits her mouth to take on the lines ot morbid discontent. T say this, although T make my living by those same toilet creams and massages.”Have not these two witnesses—the photographer and the masseur—amply verified the exposition which the old minister gave to little Margery? Do we not choose the lords that shall have dominion over us, and straight* way grave their names upon our foreheads? There is no doubt about it.LOVE’S TRANSFORMING POWER.I was writing in this strain when 1 picked up, quite casually, a copy of the “Missionary Herald.” T was.soon arrested by an article by Miss Shekleton, on “The Uplift of Woman in Chinn.” She writes most graphically of the physical transformation‘which the love of Christ can bring about on the clouded faces of China’s daughters. And, in support of her own statement, she quotes from “a critical non-missionarv outsider.” In “Changing China,” this gentleman writes: “The radiant peace and uplift of soul I have seen on some Christian faces reveal what a moral treasure the Chinese have kept locked up all these centuries. I do not wonder that villagers took a certain saintly woman to be “some relative of God.” As in foot unbinding, so in iniud unbinding, the missionaries have been the pioneers. To judge from the beatific expression on the faces of certain converts 1 have met, the Gospel means to them what the owning of the hatches of a captured slave-ship meant to the wretches pent up in its hold.”A SPIRITUAL PHENOMENON.But we have strayed a long way from home. We need not have gone to China. Principal Forsyth savs that Roman Catholicism develops a certain peculiar cast of face that can be picked ont on the street. And surely every minister and every city missionary —if they have worked with their eves wide open—can recall countless instances of a very gracious and wonderful spiritual phenomenon. At the Water Street Mission, New York, the photographs of converts are preserved. And in the published record of that wonderful work a number of them are reproduced side hv side with the same faces photographed five or ten years later. The change is almost incredible. What hns happened? Simply this: “His name is written in their foreheads.” That is all.“Did vou,” asks Dr. Alexander Whyte, of Edinburgh, in commenting upon the shining face of Moses, “did you ever happen to pass a looking-glass as you rose off your knees after an unusually long or unusually close season alone with God? Then yon must have been startled and delighted to see that your plain, dull, old, and haggard face was for the moment positively youthful and beautiful. Or, again, yon must often have Heen two young lovers just parting, and. as one of them passed you, you turned and looked after him, for his face so shone out upon you. Tt was the light of heaven that filled his heart, coming ont at his face. In Paradise, Dante tells us the more they love the more they shine. In heaven you will recognise and discover the great lovers of God and of man by the exquisite beauty of their faces. “His name shall be in their foreheads.”BROTHERHOOD OF THE BRANDED BROW.T began with a true storv. I shall close with one. It. happened one day that a party of monks were studying the Book of Revelation. When the rending was completed they discussed with eachother the most enticing description of heaven that the chapters contained.“I like this,” said an aged brother, who had known great grief: ‘God shall wija* away all tears from their eyes. ’ ’ ’“And T shall choose this, exclaimed another, who knew what it was to wage constant warfare against the evil forces within: 'To him that overcometh will 1 grant to sit with Me on My throne.’ ”“Ah,” said a quiet young monk who had not yet spoken, “but there is none equal to this: ‘His servants shall serve Him. and they shall see His face, and His name shall bo in their foreheads.’ ”That quiet young monk was Thomas a’Kempis, whose “Imitation of Christ” stands for all time as one of the chiefest treasures of the Church’s devotional literature. He knew what it was to have been initiated into the Brotherhood of the Branded Brow.♦
Newspaper Details
Sydney Methodist
Sydney, New South Wales, AU
Sat, Jul 04, 1914
Page 1
Full Page
Clipped by
Benjamin A.
USA 18 May 2023
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