Isaiah 58

Mending The Holes

Thou shalt be called, The repairer of the breach. Isaiah 58:12.

Did you ever hear the story of the little hero of Haarlem? Some of you may know it already, but it is such a good story that it will bear repeating.

Haarlem, you know, is in Holland, and Holland just means Hollow land. In that country there are big stretches of land along the coast which are below the sea level. That means, of course, that, instead of the land being a little higher than the sea, as it is with us, it is a little lower. In order to keep the sea from flooding the land, the people of Holland have built huge banks called dykes. Some of these banks are as broad as a road, but it sometimes happens that little holes come in the dyke perhaps a rabbit burrows through it and then, if the hole is not stopped, it gets bigger and bigger until the sea breaks through and does great damage. So you see the dykes have to be very carefully watched and repaired.

Now it happened one evening that a small boy was coming home along the top of one of these dykes when he noticed the water trickling through a hole in the dyke. He knew that if it were not stopped the sea would break through and perhaps drown all his own friends and a great many other people besides. He could not run for help because, while he was away, the hole would get bigger, and before help arrived the damage might be done. What was he to do? Well, there was just one thing he could do if he wanted to save Haarlem. He must stop the hole himself and wait till help came.

So he got down on his knees and thrust his arm through the gap. Then he shouted as loud as he could for help. But at first it seemed as if he shouted in vain. His arm became cold and cramped. Night fell and he was frightened. And always on the other side of the dyke the sea broke and gurgled as if it would say, “I am stronger than you and I will conquer you yet.” But still he held on, and just when he was utterly exhausted help arrived. Men came bringing shovels and pickaxes, and soon the hole was mended. But the people of Haarlem have never forgotten the little hero who saved their town.

Do you wonder why I have told you that story this morning? It is because I want you all to be menders of holes. That is just what our text means Thou shalt be called “the waller-up, the mender of holes.” You don't live in Holland and you can't stop holes in dykes; but there are other and worse holes than those that little Hans of Haarlem stopped, and you may all be heroes and help to mend them.

First there are the holes made by quarrels. These sometimes make a terribly big rent such a big one that friends are separated never to meet again, and hearts are broken, and lives are spoiled. Of course your quarrels aren't as bad as this; but still they are bad enough; and they often cause a lot of bitter feeling and heart-burning and unhappiness.

Now I want you all to be menders of the holes made by quarrels and arguments. You can do it if you try.

In a certain Yorkshire school the girls used to have little arguments and squabbles just as you have; and when the squabblers got very angry with each other the onlookers used to send for one particular girl. And the unusual thing was that when this girl came she always seemed to manage to stop the quarrel and to make the squabblers be “friends” again. So they called this girl “the Peacemaker.”

If that girl could be a peacemaker, so can you. Of course it's easier for some people than for others, but you needn't lose heart. Often a joke or a cheery word will stop a quarrel in the beginning, or sometimes you can manage to turn the squabblers' attention to something else.

Above all, don't be peace-breakers instead of peacemakers; don't go about making holes instead of mending them. We can't all have our own way in this world and we can't always get people to see as we do; but it's better to give up trying for those things than to lose our temper in a petty squabble.

The other kind of hole I want you to help to mend is the kind that is made by the troubles and the hard things of life. And this is just the kind of hole that the prophet is talking about in our text. He says that he who is kind and helpful to the poor and the hungry and the sad will be called, “The repairer of the breach the mender of holes.”

Now perhaps you think you are little and that you can't do very much in that way, but you can do much more than you think. By a smile, by a kind word, by a little helpful act you can do a great deal towards healing the wounds of the world, and that is just “mending its holes.”

Make up your mind now that you are going to do your best to make the world a little better, a little happier. Make up your mind that you will not grow unsympathetic and selfish and heedless of other people's troubles so long as you are comfortable and happy yourself. Try to do something for the boys and girls who haven't so many good things as you have. Send them your toys, give your spare money to the hospitals where the sick ones among them are made well. They are Jesus' little children just as much as you are, and He loves them just as much as He loves you.

That brings me to the last thing I want to say. It is that there is a big reason why we should try to be menders of holes. And the reason is that Jesus is the great Mender. He heals hurt souls, He binds up wounds, He comforts the sad, He fills up the great gap that sin has made in our hearts and lives. And if we love Jesus we shall want to do the things He does, the things He would have us do.

Do you remember how He once told a story to a young man who came asking Him which was the biggest commandment of all? The story was about a Samaritan who found a poor hurt man lying by the roadside and bound up his wounds and cared for him. And when Jesus had ended the story, this is what He said: “Go, and do thou likewise.”

Jesus is the Good Samaritan who binds up the wounds we cannot heal ourselves, but He says to each one of us, “Go, and do thou likewise go and help to heal the hurts of the world.” And if we love Him we shall obey His voice.

My sister was born on the Sabbath day,

So she must be bonny and good and gay.

When anything in our play goes wrong,

She's always the one who sets it right,

And tells us boys that we “must not fight. ”

When father comes home so tired and cold,

And says with a sigh, “I am getting old,”

My sister's the one to make him feel right;

She chatters to him till the supper bell's rung,

And then says: “Dear father, now don't you feel young? ”

When mother has something to do upstairs,

And Jack and the baby are cross as bears,

My sister's the one who sets it right

She says to the baby, “Let's build a house,

And gets him as quiet and as good as a mouse.

How she can always be good, I don't see

Good to father and mother and baby and me;

So I ask her what makes her so bonny and blithe,

And she answers me then in her voice so mild:

“Why, I must be good, 'cause I'm Sunday's child! ”

And then I give her a hug and whisper:

“ I wish every boy had a Sunday sister! ”