More than Raiment by Clara Edna Rosencrans

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Sep 3, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 34.

More than Raiment

By Clara Edna Rosencrans

HOW often we meet people who are extremely unprepossessing! The features seem thrown together without any regard to each other. The nose does violence to every canon of beauty. The mouth is wide, the teeth are uneven, and the ears are out of all proportion.

It would seem at the first glance that to love such a person would be impossible. Gradually, however, as we come to know that person better,—as the barriers are broken down, and friendship and confidence are established,—we begin to see below the homely exterior, and to discern the beautiful spirit that dwells within this humble temple. The gentle graces of the Spirit have so transformed it that soon we find ourselves looking at that face with new eyes, and discovering things both admirable and beautiful.

It is then that we have a faint glimpse of what our Lord meant when He said, "Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"

How is it that we judge our friends? By the gowns they wear? By the irreproachable evening suit, or the very latest creation in head-gear? I greatly fear that if we do this we shall never get below the surface. To be sure, dress is an indication of character, and as such, is valuable as far as it goes; but like the homely face, it often hides inward beauties of which we little dream.

If we have the spirit of the Master, we shall look beneath the outward seeming; beneath the awkward, ill-fitting garments, the plain, irresponsive features; will catch the winning smile that curves the wide mouth into lines of beauty, and note how the dull eyes kindle at some noble thought. These things show us the person—show what spirit has its dwelling-place in the inner chambers of the soul, where the altar-fires are kept burning with constant care, fed by an inspiration not gathered from outward things. Could we but see these lives as God can see them—see all the secret springs of action laid bare—and know that beneath the plain face and homely, ill-clad form dwells a spirit noble even to sublimity—see how the fires of genius, the love of beauty, the joy of attainment, have all been quenched by poverty and lonely, unremitting toil, we should feel like covering our faces in awe, that our Father could make something so beautiful and sweet out of a thing seemingly spoiled and blighted.

How glad we should be, then, that God can see each one of us as we really are; that "all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do;" that tho we may be misunderstood, persecuted, traduced—nay, even killed—the Lord looks not at the record of one day, one month, or one year, but sees the end from the beginning, and that before Him the entire life is read as an open book. But in this thought, beautiful and comforting tho it is, there is an element of terror as well as joy. That God knows the nakedness, the vileness, the evil, of our hearts, is a fearful thought sometimes; and yet His knowing us so utterly, enables Him to clothe us with garments that are entirely fitted to our need, and that will shine with all the purity of heaven.

No one should ever despair, no matter how ugly his face may be. There is power in the love of God to transform the life and to change the expression of the countenance, until that which bore the impress of Satan will wear at last the image of the divine.

Reader, did you ever hear the story of the prisoner whose life had been so black with sin that his face had become ugly and repulsive? Even little children shrank from him, and those who looked into his eyes shuddered as if they had seen a devil. By and by the Lord found him, as He did that other man who came forth from the tombs of Gadara, and the sin was cast out of his life. But his face! how could he meet the world with a face like that? He wanted to work for his Lord; but who would believe that God had changed him, while he carried about with him that terrible hall-mark of his sin? In utter self-abandonment and despair, he threw himself down before God, and cried to Him to give him a new face. He said, "Thou hast given me a new heart, and I know Thou canst give me a new face to mirror forth the change within."

As the years passed, with the years came resignation to labor and to endure. Love, joy, peace came in to dwell with him. Pity for the suffering made his big hands gentle as a woman's, and tenderness for children filled his eyes with warmth and light. Gradually the change for which he had prayed came. As the years passed, the inward life was mirrored in that face, and a strange spiritual beauty took the place of the terrible deformity that had made it the dread of all beholders; and one day, glancing into his mirror, he beheld the answer to his almost forgotten prayer. Falling on his knees, this time in thanksgiving, he poured out his soul to God for the miracle.

Such is the transforming power of love. Such a change, dear reader, will be wrought in your life and mine, if we will but let God have His way with us. He who has Jesus in his heart has a well-spring—a never-failing fountain of tranquil joy. No matter how hard the way may be—no matter how long; no matter what sorrows are his lot, he knows whither the path is leading him, and he can sing amid the trials, "Praise God, I've found the way—Jesus is mine!" Sweetness and light will irradiate every feature, and his face will shine with the beauty of heaven, even while he treads the mazes of the enemy's country.

Life Boat Mission, Springfield, Mo.