§ 3. A third bar to Christian fellowship is what, for want of a better phrase, may be termed a weakness for interesting people. That is to say, the humanity that is within easy reach seems commonplace and uninteresting, so that men of our intimate acquaintance often appear to be hardly worth while labouring for. Hence it is a common habit to reserve our best thought, our best manners and our best service for strangers, making little positive effort to love and serve those with whom we are thrown into daily contact. Nowhere is human perversity more glaring than in the sad truth lurking behind the proverb: "A prophet is not without honour, save in his own country and house." The value of those who stand nearest to us is lowered by means of their very nearness. On the other hand the persons who are outside our immediate circle, however comprehensive it may be, seem to be more interesting than the very average folk who are our ordinary companions. We long for companionship with men of this finer type.
Of course this is all a delusion. Human nature is full of interest wherever we find it, that which is nearest as well as that which is farthest removed. The men we would like to know and serve, are no more worthy of attention than the men who stand shoulder to shoulder with us. But those who have the largest claim upon our attention and service, are our immediate friends and neighbours. Indeed the only way to arm ourselves against disappointment, as the boundaries of our fellowship are enlarged, is so to attach ourselves to the people near at hand as to learn the true dignity of all human nature and the almost unfathomable depths of every personality. Otherwise an acquisition in acquaintanceship will, after the first glow of novelty has worn off, only reveal one more uninteresting person.
§ 4. There is one other duty that ought to be at least touched upon in this connection, though it has been referred to in a former chapter--the duty of praying for others. There is no more delicate service in the whole round of human action than that of intercessory prayer. It is so hidden as to have a special beauty on that account. While men are all unconscious that we are thinking of them, we fold our arms about them and bring them up before God for blessing and guidance. Intercessory prayer might be defined as loving our neighbour on our knees. The common objection, "What good can it do? Will not God bless men just as much without our prayers as with them?" seems to have a certain amount of weight. But a very little reflection shows that it does not amount to much. Even though intercessory prayer did nothing more than put us who pray in a desirable frame of mind toward those for whom we pray, it would be an exercise of great value. However, as a matter of fact, it accomplishes much more than this. Besides making our feeling of fellowship stronger, it really brings something to those for whom we offer our petitions. Human life is as closely bound up on the spiritual as on any other side of our being. It is quite certain that if we withhold the duties of service in other ways God does not supply our lack, so far as we can see, but human life suffers through our neglect. If all else in our experience is governed by law, why should we believe that the spiritual part of life stands alone and is not affected by spiritual service? There is from analogy every reason to suppose, that those who are not prayed for suffer spiritual loss on that account.