“If God is in the form of man He cannot be everywhere,” suggested one of the ladies. “And that’s not a pleasant thought.”
“Our friend here,” continued the speaker, nodding to Mr. Strong, “quoted a passage in his splendid sermon last Sunday which explains how God may be and is present in all His creations. Certainly God the Father cannot personally be in two places at the same time any more than God the Son could or can.” The elder took a Bible from his pocket.
“I had better read the passage. It is found in the 139th Psalm. David exclaims, ’Whither shall I go from thy spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence?’ You will recall the rest of the passage. Is it not plain that the Lord is present by His Spirit always and everywhere. His Spirit sustains and controls and blesses all things throughout the immensity of space. Fear not, my friend, that that Spirit cannot be with you and bless you on sea or on land. We cannot get outside its working power any more than we can escape the Spirit of Christ now and here, even if His glorified body of flesh and bones now sits on the right hand of His Father in heaven where Stephen saw it.”
As is usual in all such discussions as this, some soon retire, others linger, eager not to miss a word. Lucy, you may be sure, was among those who remained. Her father also, sitting near to Chester, listened with deep interest.
“Just one more thought,” continued the “Mormon” elder, “in regard to this lady’s fear that God may not be able to take care of all His children always and everywhere. God is essentially a Father—our Father. The fathering of God gives me great comfort. By fathering I mean that He has not only brought us into existence, but He has sent us forth, provides for us, watches over us. In our darkness He gives us light, in our weakness He lends us strength. He rebukes our wrong actions, and chastens us for our good. In fact, He fathers us to the end. Is it not a great comfort?”
“It certainly is,” said Lucy, unconscious to all else but the spirit of the Elder’s words.
“In this world,” said the Elder, “the God-given power of creation is exercised unthoughtfully, unwisely, and often wickedly. A good-for-nothing scamp may become a father in name; but he who attains to that holy title in fact, must do as God does,—must love, cherish, sustain and make sacrifices for his child until his offspring becomes old enough and strong enough to stand for himself,—Don’t you think so, Mr. Strong?”
All eyes were turned to the minister who was appealed to so directly. Had the reverend gentleman been listening, or had his thoughts been with his eyes, out to sea? His face was a study. But that was not to be wondered at. Was he not a dispenser of the Word himself, and had he not been listening to strange doctrine? However, he soon shifted his gaze from the horizon to his questioner.
“Certainly, I agree with you,” he replied. “Father and fathering are distinct things. Happy the man who combines them in his life—happy, indeed.”