month came, and Mr.
Strong again stood before his church with his Christ message. It had
been a wearing month to him. Gradually there had been growing upon him a
sense of almost isolation in his pulpit work. He wondered if he had
interpreted Christ aright. He probed deeper and deeper into the springs
of action that moved the historical Jesus, and again and again put that
resplendently calm, majestic, suffering personality into his own pulpit
in Milton, and then stood off, as it were, to watch what he would, in
all human probability, say. He reviewed all his own sayings on those
first Sundays and tried to tax himself with utmost severity for any
denial of his Master or any false presentation of his spirit; and as he
went over the ground he was almost overwhelmed to think how little had
been really accomplished. This time he came before the church with the
experience of nearly three weeks' hand-to-hand work among the people for
whose sake he had moved out of the parsonage. As usual an immense
congregation thronged the church.

"The question has come to me lately in different forms," began Philip,
"as to what is church work. I am aware that my attitude on the question
is not shared by many of the members of this church and other churches.
Nevertheless, I stand here to-day, as I have stood on these Sundays, to
declare to you what in deepest humility would seem to me to be the
attitude of Christ in the matter before us.

"What is a church? It is a body of disciples professing to acknowledge
Christ as Master. What does He want such a body to do? Whatever will
most effectively make God's kingdom come on earth, and His will be done
as in heaven. What is the most necessary work of this church in Milton?
It is to go out and seek and save the lost. It is to take up its cross
and follow the Master. And as I see Him to-day he beckons this church to
follow Him into the tenements and slums of this town and be Christs to
those who do not know Him. As I see Him He stands beckoning with pierced
palms in the direction of suffering and disease and ignorance and vice
and paganism, saying: 'Here is where the work of Calvary Church lies.'
I do not believe the work of this church consists in having so many
meetings and socials and pleasant gatherings and delightful occasions
among its own members; but the real work of this church consists in
getting out of its own little circle in which it has been so many years
moving, and going, in any way