Character: A Sermonet

Character — A Sermonet By Robert J. Burdette "As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." — Proverbs 23:7. Someone has said, "Character is what a man is in the dark." What he is without an audience. His reputation may be grand- stand play ; a safe, senseless slide to second with the ball a quar- ter of a mile away — a cloud of dust and thunders of cheers from people who don't know the game. His character may be the sacrifice hit that brings him hisses from the same class of peo- ple— and advances the team. What you wish you were, that's your ideal. What people think you are, that's your reputation. What you know you are, that's your character. To paraphrase Abraham Lincoln, you may fool some other people all of the time, but you can't fool yourself one little bit of the time. Reputation is a variable estimate, depending not upon what people know about you, but upon their guesses, made from what they see of you. "We have lived together for fifty years," said the Left Hand, "and I never saw him do one charitable action." That's reputation. But all the time the generous Right Hand was the almoner of God, working in loving and secret fellowship with Him. That's character. You will not drink wine, not even for politeness' sake, and at the table of an esteemed friend, and "our best society" says you are a fanatical, bigoted prohibitionist. You refuse to en- courage a vile story with a smile. Some people say you are a cold-blooded hypocrite. You will not permit yourself to laugh at a funny story, well told, in which all the "laugh" is in its pro- fanity. And folk say you are self-righteous. And you carry your Bible in your hand when you walk to Church. And they say "a canting Pharisee." Yet all the while your character is that of a sober, pure-minded, reverent, God-fearing man — a Christian. Four reputations — all bad, and one character which outweighs and outlasts the four, going into eternity with you. Character — you won't find the word in your Bible. But there you learn what it is. The Bible isn't a dictionary — it's a Teacher. The primary meaning of the word "character" is an instrument for marking or graving; commonly, a mark en- graved upon a plate of stone or metal; a figure cut deeply into

CHARACTER— A SERMONET 709 a plate of bronze by a chisel of steel. Now you begin to under- stand what character is? Something which your daily life cuts deep and deeper into your soul day by day, and marks you, I pray, for one of God's men or women, even a special one among His millions. "To him that overcometh I will give a white stone, and in the stone [not on it, you will observe] a new name written, which no man knoweth save he that receiveth it." Isn't that glorious? ¥on- drously glorious? That new name, graven by the finger of God, in exclusive confidence with yourself, deep in the white pebble of your life — that's your character. Not Simon, as men called you, but Peter by the dear Lord's re-christening. What God knows you are, and what you know you are. Do you begin to understand what your character is? Even the angels may never fully comprehend your true character. John quotes Christ as saying that it is a secret be- tween God and yourself. Maybe God himself doesn't quite know your new name yet. He is learning it from your daily life. Are you setting him fair copy for that new name? Every day you pray the heavenly Father to watch over you and keep you from evil in your actions. Do you pray just as earnestly that he will watch just as carefully to see what you are thinking, hear what you are whispering, that he will look down into your deep- est soul to note what are your secret inclinations? By these things you are shaping your character, God doesn't make it; you do. Character is not builded up, like a house that can be torn down if it be found defective. It is being engraved, day by day, deep, deep, deep into your very soul — the immortal part of you. You can't rub it out. Should you try to cut it out, it will leave a hole that will have to be patched, a wound that may heal, but will heal with a. scar. Character stands. And you can't write your charcter in the ragged vears of the fag-end of a misspent life. Christ can forgive the sins of a penitent thief on his death- bed. But he can't give him the character of an honest man. He was a thief all his life, and in death he is just a forgiven thief, a pardoned convict. The record stands. It can't be changed to show that the convict was never in the penitentiary. Do you begin to see what a serious, earnest, prayerful life- work it is, the graving of your character? "As a man thinketh, so he is." What do you think about when you are alone? How do you act when there is no audi- ence? What manner of creature are you "in the dark"? What are your thoughts and inclinations when you think God isn't looking? What is your real name? — Selected.