“The Lord hath spoken this word.”
—Isaiah xxiv. 1-12.
HE Lord hath spoken this word,” and it is a word of judgment. It unveils some of the terrible issues of sin.
See the effects of sin upon the spirit of man. “The merry-hearted do sigh.” Life loses its wings and its song. The buoyancy and the optimism die out of the soul. The days move with heavy feet, and duty becomes very stale and unwelcome. If only our ears were keen enough we should hear many a place of hollow laughter moaning with troubled and restless sighs. The soul cannot sing when God is defied.
But see another effect of sin. “The earth moaneth.” That is a frequent note in Bible teaching. The forces of nature are mysteriously conditioned by the character of man. When man is degraded, nature is despoiled. The beauty of the garden is checked when man has lost his crown. “The whole creation groaneth in pain,” waiting for the manifestation of the children of God.
Sin spreads desolation everywhere. When I sin, I become the centre of demoralizing forces which influence the universe. And so let me ever pray, “Deliver me from evil.”
“Arm yourselves likewise with the same mind.”
—1 Peter iv. 1-8.
ET not the body be dominant, but the soul. Let me study the example and counsel of the Apostle Paul.
“I keep my body under.” Literally, I pummel it! If it is obtrusive and aggressive, its appetites clamouring for supremacy, I pummel it! Paul was not afraid of severe measures where carnality was concerned. He would fast a whole day in order to put the flesh in its place. And so should it be with all the Lord’s children. We are too self-indulgent. It is well at times to put the body on the cross, and crucify its cravings.
“Give no occasion to the flesh.” Do not give it a chance of mastery! And, therefore, do not feed it with illicit thought. Turn the mind away from the subjects in which the body will find exciting stimulant. It is thought which awakes passion, and thought can do much to destroy it. “Set your mind on things which are above.” Keep the mind pure, and the swine will never enter the holy place.
“In Him is no darkness at all.”
—1 John i.
HAT wonderful mansion of God’s Being is gloriously radiant in every room! In the house of my life there are dark chambers, and rooms which are only partially illumined, the other parts being in the possession of night. Some of my faculties and powers are dark ministers, and some of my moods are far from being “homes of light.” But “God is light,” and everything is glorious as the meridian sun! His holiness, His grace, His love, His mercy: there are no dark corners where uncleanness hides; everything shines with undimmed and speckless radiancy!
And if I “walk in the light,” I, too, shall become illumined. “They looked unto Him and were lightened.” We are fashioned by our highest companionships. We acquire the nature of those with whom we most constantly commune.
And the light He gives is also fire. It will burn away our sin. We may measure the reality and strength of our communion by the destruction of our sin. A great burning will be proceeding in our life, and one evil habit after another will be in the love-furnace of purification. The Lord still “purifies Jerusalem by the spirit of burning.”
2 Corinthians iv. 1-6.
CAN shut out the sweet light of the morning. I can refuse to open the shutters and draw up the blinds. And I can shut out the Light of life. I can draw the thick blinds of prejudice, and close the impenetrable shutters of sin. And the Light of the world cannot get into my soul.
And I can let in the waiting light of the morning, and flood my room with its glory. And the Light is “a gracious, willing guest.” No fuss is needed, no shouting is required. Open thy casement, and the gracious guest is in! And my Lord has no reluctance in His coming; we have not to drag Him to our table. Open thy heart, and the Lord is in!
And when the light is within there will be radiance at the windows. And when the Lord is shining in our hearts there will be a witness in the life. Men will see that we are “with Jesus,” because we are “light in the Lord.”
Good Lord, deliver me from “the god of this world” lest I be blinded and become unable to see Thee! I open my heart to Thee! Shine in, Thou light of life, and make my soul the radiant witness of Thy grace.
“The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth
much.”
—James v. 13-20.
R, as Weymouth translates it, “The heartfelt supplication of a righteous man exerts a mighty influence.” Prayer may be empty words, with no more power than those empty shells which have been foisted upon the Turks in their war with the Balkan States. Firing empty shells! That is what many professed prayers really are; they have nothing in them, and they accomplish nothing. They are just forged upon the lips, and they drop to the earth as soon as they are spoken. Effectual prayers are born in the heart; they are stocked with heart-treasure, with faith, and hope, and desire, and holy urgency, and they go forth with power to shake the world.
What are my prayers like? If I were God, could I listen to them? Are they mere pretences at prayer, full of nothing but sound? Is there any reasonable ground for assuming that they can accomplish anything? Or are my prayers weighted with sincere desire? Do they comprehend my brother’s good as well as my own? Are they spoken in faith? Do they go forth in great expectancy? Then do they surely “exert a mighty influence,” and they become fellow-labourers with all God’s ministries of grace. The greatest thing I can do is greatly to pray.
“The Lord is my strength and my song.”
—Psalm cxviii. 14-21.
ES, first of all “my strength” and then “my song”! For what song can there be where there is languor and fainting? What brave music can be born in an organ which is short of breath? There must first be strength if we would have fine harmonies. And so the good Lord comes to the songless, and with holy power He brings the gift of “saving health.”
“And my song”! For when life is healthy it instinctively breaks into song. The happy, contented soul goes about the ways of life humming its satisfactions to itself, and is now and again heard by the passer-by. The Lord fills the life with instinctive music. When life is holy it becomes musical with His praise.
So here I see the appointed order in Christian service. It is futile to try to make people joyful unless we do it by seeking first to make them strong. First the good, and then the truly happy! First the holy, and then the musical. First God, and then the breath of His Holy Spirit, and then “the new song.”
“In Him was life.”
—John i. 1-18.
OT merely a pool of life, but the well-spring. All rivers of enriching vitality have their source in Him. Nowhere is there a crystal stream which was not born at the Fountain. Let us make our claim for the Lord all-comprehensive and inclusive. Whatever energizes body, mind, or soul, has its origin in our Sovereign King. “All our springs are in Thee.” “Thou of life the Fountain art.”
“And the life was the light of men.” And what did He not light up? His amazing rays streamed down the darkest ways of men, and illumined the vast, sombre chambers of human circumstance. He lit up sin and showed its true colour! He lit up sorrow, and transfigured it! He lit up duty, and gave it a new face. He lit up common work, and glorified it. He lit up death, and we could see through it! But, above all, He lit up God, and “the people that sat in darkness saw a great light.”
“And the darkness apprehended it not.” The darkness could not lay hold of it and quench it! It was not overwhelmed and eclipsed by the murkiest fog of prejudice, or by the dingiest antagonism of sinful pride. “The light showeth in the darkness,” inviolable and invincible!
“And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon Him.”
—Isaiah xi. 1-10.
ND the spirit is one of light! All the doors and windows are open. His correspondences are perfect and unbroken. He is of “quick understanding,” keen-scented to discern the essences of things, alert to perceive the reality behind the semblance, to “see things as they are.” All the great primary senses are awake, and He has knowledge of every “secret place.”
“He shall smite ... with the rod of His mouth, and with the breath of His lips shall He slay.” The spirit of light follows a crusade of holiness. The light becomes lightning! The “breathing,” which cools the fever-stricken, can also become a hot breath, which wastes and destroys every plant of evil desire. It is an awful thing, and yet a gracious thing, that “our God is a consuming fire.” It was foretold of our Lord that He should baptize “with fire.”
And this crusade of holiness is in the ministry of peace. He will burn away all that defileth, in order that He may create a profound and permanent fellowship. When His work is done, there will be a mingling of apparent opposites, and antagonisms will melt into a gracious union. “The sucking child will play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den.”
Hebrews ii. 9-18.
ND doth my Lord call me one of His brethren? Let me leisurely think upon it, until my very soul moves amid my affairs in noble and hallowed dignity. If I steadily remember “who I am,” it will assuredly transfigure “what I am.” I lose the sense of my high kinship, and then I am quite content to be “sent into the fields to feed swine.”
And my elder Brother came to “destroy the works of the devil.” That is the entire ministry of destruction. Nothing beautiful does He destroy, nothing winsome: only the insidious presences which are the foes of these things. He will destroy only the pestiferous microbes which ravage the vital peace of the soul. Our Lord is the enemy of the deadly, and therefore of “him that had the power of death—that is, the devil!”
And in this holy ministry of destruction He can defend my soul as “one who knows,” Himself “having been tempted.” He knows the subtlety of the devil, and where the soul is most perilously exposed, and He is therefore “able to succour them that are tempted.”
“He emptied Himself.”
—Philippians ii. 1-11.
N Mr. Silvester Horne’s garden a very suggestive scene was one day to be witnessed. A cricketer of world-wide renown was playing a game with Mr. Horne’s little four-year-old son! And the fierce bowler “emptied himself,” and served such gentle, dainty little balls that the tiny man at the wickets was not in the least degree afraid! And the Lord of glory “emptied Himself,” fashioning Himself to our “low estate,” and in His unspeakably gentle approaches we find our peace.
And I, too, am to seek a corresponding lowliness of mind in order that I, too, may be of service to my weak and needy brother. It is for me to empty myself of the pride of strength, the brutal aggressiveness of success, the sometimes unfeeling obtrusiveness of health; I must empty myself, and “get down” by the side of weakness and infirmity, and in gentle fellowship humbly proffer my help.
And if the mind is to be in me “which was also in Christ Jesus,” it is needful for me to commune with Him “without ceasing.” His gentleness can make me great.
“He that followeth Me.”
—John viii. 12-20.
ES, but I must make sure that I follow Him in Spirit and in truth. It is so easy to be self-deceived. I may follow a pleasant emotion, while all the time a bit of grim cross-bearing is being ignored. I may be satisfied to be “out on the ocean sailing,” singing of “a home beyond the tide,” while all the time there is a piece of perilous salvage work to be done beneath the waves. To “follow Jesus” is to face the hostility of scribes and Pharisees, to offer restoring friendship to publicans and sinners, to pray in blood-shedding in Gethsemane, to brave the derision of the brutal mob, and to be “ready” for the appalling happenings on Calvary! Therefore, following is not a light picnic; it is a possible martyrdom!
But if I set my face “to go,” the Lord Himself will visit me with “the light of life.” And the resource shall not be broken and spasmodic: it shall be mine without ceasing. “Be thou faithful ... and I will give thee ... life.” That life will flow into my soul, just as the oxygenating air flows down to the diver who is faithfully busy recovering wreckage from the wealth-strewn bed of the mighty sea. Let me be faithful, and every moment the Lord will crown me with His own vitalizing life!
John i. 19-34.
HIS man humbly desires to be “a voice.” He has no ambition to receive popular homage. He does not covet the power of the lordly purple. He does not crave to be a great person; he only wants to be a great voice! He wants to articulate the thought and purpose of God. He is quite content to be hidden, like a bird in a thick bush, if only his song may be heard.
And in order that he may be a voice he retires into the silent solitudes of the desert. He will listen before he speaks. Come thou, my soul, into his secret! The air is clamorous with speech behind which there has been no hearing. Men speak, and in their words there is no pulse of the Infinite. In their consolations there is no balm. In their reproaches there is no sword. Their words are empty vessels, full of sound! Let my voice be hushed until I have heard the voice of the Highest. “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.”
And when he spake, it was in clear and definite testimony, “Behold the Lamb of God!” The “voice” succeeded, for men began to look away from the herald to the herald’s Lord. In forgetting John they found the King. They passed the signpost, and arrived at home!
Isaiah xl. 1-10.
ND so these things are to happen when the Lord has come to His own, and His decrees are honoured in our midst.
Certain inequalities are to be ended. Valleys are to be exalted, and mountains are to be made low. There is to be a levelling! Men are to be equal in freedom and opportunity.
Certain crookednesses are to be ended. They are to be “made straight.” Society has become warped with the heat of lust, and the fierce fever of competition, and the hot, devouring fires of greed. When the Lord is enthroned the fires will be put out, the heat will pass, and the twisted fellowships will be rectified.
Certain roughnesses are to be ended. Class works against class with jagged edge, like the teeth of a saw. They tear and rend one another, and the family of God is always bleeding. These “rough places” are to be “made plain.” We are to “work in to one another,” smoothly, congenially, in a frictionless peace.
And this Lord is coming, coming every day, and “His arm shall rule for Him.” “Say unto the cities of Judah—Behold your God!”
Matthew xi. 7-15.
HERE are some men who are only as desert reeds! They move to the breath of the desert wind. They bend before it, no matter in what way it may be blowing. They never resist the wind. They never become “hiding places from the wind,” stemming a popular drift. They are the victims of passing opinions, and are swayed by the current passions.
And some men are “clothed in soft raiment”! They shrink from the rough fustian, the labourer’s cotton smock, the leather suit of George Fox. They are ultra-“finicky.” They are afraid of the mire. They touch the sorrows of the world with a timid finger, not with the kindly, healing grasp of a surgeon.
And other men are “prophets”! They have a secret fellowship with the Infinite. When we listen to them it is like putting one’s ear to the seashell: we catch the sound of the ocean roll. “The voice of the Great Eternal dwells in their mighty tones.”
And others are “children of the Kingdom.” They are greater than the old prophets, because the mystic voice has become a Presence, and they have “seen the Lord.” The veil has been rent, and they “walk in the light” as “children of light.”
“He taught His disciples.”
—Mark ix. 30-37.
ND my Lord will teach me. He will lead me into “the deep things” of God. There is only one school for this sort of learning, and an old saint called it the Academy of Love, and it meets in Gethsemane and Calvary, and the Lord Himself is the teacher, and there is room in the school for thee and me.
But the disciples were not in the mood for learning. They were not ambitious for heavenly knowledge, but for carnal prizes, not for wisdom, but for place. “They disputed one with another who was the greatest.” And that spirit is always fatal to advancement in the school of Christ. Our petty ambitions close the door and windows of our souls, and the heavenly light can find no entrance. We turn Gethsemane into “a place of strife,” and we carry our clamour even to Calvary itself. From this, and all other sinful folly, good Lord, redeem us!
They who would be great scholars in this school must become “as little children.” Through the child-like spirit we attain unto God-like wisdom. By humility is honour and life.
Matthew xvii. 1-13.
HAT if the Transfiguration was the type of the purposed consummation of every life? If we had remained “without sin,” it may be that we should have gradually ripened up to a moment when we should have become transfigured, and in the surpassing brilliance have been translated to higher planes of being. Perhaps our Lord had reached this material consummation, and was now on the wonderful border land, and could by choice slip into “the glory!”
But He made another choice. And this was, of a truth, the “great renunciation!” He turned His back on the glory, and deliberately faced the darkening way which led to Calvary and the grave. I do not wonder that His mysterious visitors spake with Him “of the decease which He should accomplish at Jerusalem.” He could talk about nothing else! He “set His face to go.”
And in my Master’s choice of death I find my hope of life. Through “the dark gate” I can find “the mount.” My transfiguration is made possible in His humiliation. If my Lord had never descended I could never have ascended. If He had abode on the mount I should have remained in my sin. He has “opened to me the gates of righteousness.”
“He that hath the bride is the bridegroom.”
—John iii. 23-36.
E ministers sometimes speak of “my church.” I occasionally read of Mr. So-and-So’s church! I know that the phrase is colloquially used, but nevertheless, it is unfortunate. Words that are perversely used tend to pervert the spirit. And this phrase tends to displace the Bridegroom. It helps to make us obtrusive, unduly aggressive, when we ought to be reverently hiding our faces with our wings. The Bride is His!
“But the friend of the bridegroom.” That is my place, and that is my dignity. And what a title it is, making me a member of the finest and most select aristocracy in heaven or on earth! The “friend of the bridegroom” used to carry messages to the bride, to share in the wooing, and to help to bring the wedding about. And that, too, is my gracious office, to be a match-maker for my Lord, to testify concerning Him, to speak His praises, until the soul “fall in love” with Him.
“He must increase, but I must decrease.” Yes, when the sun is rising the moon becomes dim! When the glory of the Bridegroom breaks upon the bride He becomes “all in all,” “the chief among ten thousand, and the altogether lovely.”
John i. 35-51.
UR Lord does not stumble upon His disciples by accident. His discoveries are not surprises. He knows where His nuggets lie. Before He calls to service He has been secretly preparing the servant. “I girded thee, though thou hast not known Me.”
He knew all about Simon. “Thou art Simon”—just a listener, not yet a strong, bold doer: a man of many opinions not yet consolidated into the truth of experimental convictions. “Thou shalt be called Peter.” Simon become Peter! Loose gravel become hard rock! Hear-says become the “verilies” of unshakable experience! The Lord proclaims our glorious possibilities.
And He knew all about Nathanael. “When thou wast under the fig-tree I saw thee.” “In that secret meditation of thine, when thy wishes and desires were being born, ‘I saw thee!’” “When others saw nothing, I had fellowship with thee in the secret place.”
And He knows all about thee and me. “I know My sheep.” We do not take Him by surprise. He does not come in late, and find the performance half over! He is in at our beginnings, when grave issues are being born. “I am Alpha.”
“They were fishers.”
—Matthew iv. 12-22.
ND so our Lord went first to the fishing-boats and not to the schools. Learning is apt to be proud and aggressive, and hostile to the simplicities of the Spirit. There is nothing like plain glass for letting in the light! And our Lord wanted transparent media, and so He went to the simple fishermen on the beach. “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world.”
And by choosing labouring men our Master glorified labour. He Himself had worn the workman’s dress, and the garment which the King wears becomes regal attire. Yes, the workingman, if he only knew it, is wearing the imperial robe. He is one of the kinsmen of the Lord of Glory!
Our Lord took the fisherman’s humble calling, and made it the symbol of spiritual service. “I will make you fishers of men.” And He will do the same for thee and me. He will turn our daily labour into an apocalypse, and through its ways and means He will make us wise in the ministry of the kingdom. He will make the material the handmaid of the spiritual, and through the letter He will lead us into the secret places of the soul.
Matthew ix. 1-13.
DISCIPLE from among the publicans! In what waste places our Lord Jesus finds His jewels! What exquisite possibilities Ruskin saw in a pinch of common dust! What radiant glory the lapidary can see in the rough, unpolished gem! The Lord loves to go into the unlikely place, and lead forth His saints. “In the wilderness shall waters break out!”
We must prayerfully cultivate this sacred confidence in the possibilities of the unlikely. We can never be successful helpers of the Lord unless we can see the diamond in the soot, and the radiant saint in the disregarded publican. It is a most gracious art to cultivate, this of discerning a man’s possible excellencies even in the blackness of his present shame. To see the future best in the present worst, that is the true perception of a child of light.
“O give us eyes to see like Thee!” Well, this is the medium of vision:—“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” and the god-like, even in the wilderness of sin. “Anoint thine eyes with eye-salve, that thou may’st see!”
Luke ix. 18-26.
UR Lord never bribes His disciples by promising them ways of sunny ease. He does not buy them with illicit gold. He does not put the glittering crown upon the entrance-gate, and hide the cross behind the wall. No: on the very first stage of the sacred pilgrimage there falls “the shadow of the Cross.” “Let him take up his cross daily, and follow Me.”
And yet, the Lord’s blessing is hidden in the apparent curse. In the act of bearing the cross we increase our strength. That is the heartening paradox of grace. Virtuous energies pass from our very burdens into our spirits, and thus “out of the eater comes forth meat.” We bravely shoulder our load, and lo! a mystic breath visits the heart, and a strange facility attends our goings! The dead cross becomes a tree of life, and a secret vitality renews our souls.
How foolish, then, O heart of mine, to avoid and evade Thy cross! Refuse the burden, and thou declinest the strength! Ignore the duty, and thou shalt feel no inspiration! Carefully husband thy blood, and thou shalt remain for ever anæmic! But lose thy life, and thou shalt find it!
John xv. 1-16.
NEED the Lord. What can a branch do apart from the vine? It may retain a certain, momentary greenness, but death is advancing apace. And there are multitudes of professing Christians who are like detached branches; their spiritual life is ebbing away: they do not startle the beholder and cause him to exclaim, “How full of life!” They do not strike at all! They have no splendid “force of character,” and they therefore exercise no arresting witness for the King. They are not “abiding” in the Eternal, and therefore there is no powerful pulse from the Infinite. “Apart from Me ye can do nothing!”
And my Lord needs me. For the vine has need of the branch! The vine expresses itself in the branch, and comes to manifestation in leaf, and flower, and fruit. And my Lord would manifest Himself in me, and cause my branch to be heavy with the glorious fruits of His grace. And if I deprive Him of the branch, and deny Him this means of expression, I am “limiting the Holy One of Israel.” “My son, give Me thine heart!”
Lord, help me to abide in Thee! Save me from the follies of a fatal independence! Good Lord, “Abide in me.”
John xii. 12-36.
XCEPT a corn of wheat ... die!” Yes, it is through death we pass to life. Discipleship in which there is no death can never be truly alive. The nipping winter is essential to the green and flowery spring. No tomb, no resurrection glory! In every life there must be a grave, and self must be buried within it.
We must die to self in our prayers. In many prayers self is obtrusive and aggressive from end to end. It is self, self, self! That self must be crucified. We must make more room for others in our supplications. On our knees the egotist must die, and the altruist be born. And “if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit”! There are multitudes of professing Christians who would experience a wonderful resurrection if they were more “given to hospitality” in their communion with the Lord.
And if self die in our prayers, nowhere else will it be seen. That which is truly slain when we are upon our knees will not reassert itself when we return to common ways of work and service. And, therefore, let the corn of wheat fall into the ground and die!
Matthew xix. 23-30.
ATERIAL possessions multiply our spiritual difficulties. It is hard for a rich man “to enter into the kingdom of heaven.” For what is the kingdom? It is “righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.” It is easy for a rich man to appear respectable, but how hard is it to be holy! He may surround himself with comforts, but how hard to get into peace! He may move in the cold gleam of a glittering happiness, but how hard to get into the rich, warm quietness of an abiding joy! Yes, our material possessions so easily range themselves as ramparts between us and our destined spiritual wealth.
And if we find that any material thing so mesmerizes us that we are held in fatal bondage, we are to sacrifice it. “If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee!” Whatever interposes itself between us and our Lord must go! It is a hard way, but it leads to a sound and boisterous health. We verily “receive an hundredfold!” We lose “a thing,” and gain a grace. We lose fickle sensations and gain abounding inspiration. We lose the world, and gain the Lord!
John ii. 13-22.
HE narrative of the cleansing follows the story of the wedding-feast. In the one the Lord has taken the spirit of the sanctuary into a worldly feast, and thereby illumined and glorified the feast. In the other, the spirit of the world has invaded the sanctuary, and thereby defiled and dishonoured it. The spirit of worldliness, like an unclean, insurgent flood, would enter and possess the entire realm of human life and service. And here it converted a legitimate convenience into an unhallowed business. It transformed a needful expedient into an unholy end. It fixed its tables in the very courts of the Temple, and exalted the quest of money above the worship of God.
“And He made a scourge of cords.” And is this “the Lamb of God”? Yes, “the Lamb of God” is also “the lion of Judah.” The mild sunshine can become focussed into scorching flame! As soon as blessings touch sin they become curses. “For this was the Son of Man manifested, that He might destroy the works of the devil.”
My soul, remember thou the scourge of thy Lord, and do not trifle in His holy place! Seek thou the clean hands and the pure heart, and the thunders of Sinai shall come to thee as beatific music from the hill.