ce to
acknowledge, who will not be content with shallow logic. They will admit
the force of the argument, and then turn away with tears to hunt some
lonely place and pray, "O God, show me thy glory." They want to taste,
to touch with their hearts, to see with their inner eyes the wonder that
is God.

I want deliberately to encourage this mighty longing after God. The lack
of it has brought us to our present low estate. The stiff and wooden
quality about our religious lives is a result of our lack of holy
desire. Complacency is a deadly foe of all spiritual growth. Acute
desire must be present or there will be no manifestation of Christ to
His people. He waits to be wanted. Too bad that with many of us He waits
so long, so very long, in vain.

Every age has its own characteristics. Right now we are in an age of
religious complexity. The simplicity which is in Christ is rarely found
among us. In its stead are programs, methods, organizations and a world
of nervous activities which occupy time and attention but can never
satisfy the longing of the heart. The shallowness of our inner
experience, the hollowness of our worship, and that servile imitation of
the world which marks our promotional methods all testify that we, in
this day, know God only imperfectly, and the peace of God scarcely at
all.

If we would find God amid all the religious externals we must first
determine to find Him, and then proceed in the way of simplicity. Now as
always God discovers Himself to "babes" and hides Himself in thick
darkness from the wise and the prudent. We must simplify our approach to
Him. We must strip down to essentials (and they will be found to be
blessedly few). We must put away all effort to impress, and come with
the guileless candor of childhood. If we do this, without doubt God will
quickly respond.

When religion has said its last word, there is little that we need other
than God Himself. The evil habit of seeking _God-and_ effectively
prevents us from finding God in full revelation. In the "and" lies our
great woe. If we omit the "and" we shall soon find God, and in Him we
shall find that for which we have all our lives been secretly longing.

We need not fear that in seeking God only we may narrow our lives or
restrict the motions of our expanding hearts. The opposite is true. We
can well afford to make God our All, to concentrate, to sacrifice the
many for the One.

The author of the quaint old English classic, _T