Can We Learn to Be Contented?

Can We Learn to Be Contented?

J. R. Miller


Someone has said that if men were to be saved by contentment, instead of by faith in Christ, most people would be lost. Yet contentment is possible. There was one man at least who said, and said it very honestly, "I have learned in whatever state I am, therein to be content." His words have special value, too, when we remember in what circumstances they were written. They were dated in a prison, when the writer was wearing a chain. It is easy enough to say such things in thesummer days of prosperity—but to say them amid trials and adversities, requires a real experience of victorious living.

But just what did Paul mean when he said, "I am content"? The original word, scholars tell us, contains a fine sense which does not come out into the English translation. It means self-sufficing. Paul, as a Christian man, had in himself all that he needed to give him tranquility and peace. Therefore he was not dependent upon any external circumstances. Wherever he went, there was in himself a competence, a fountain of supply, a self-sufficing. This is the true secret of Christian contentment wherever it is found. We cannot keep sickness, pain, sorrow, and misfortune away from our lives—yet as Christians we are meant to live in any experience in unbroken peace, in sweet restfulness of soul.

How may this unbroken contentment be obtained? Paul's description of his own life, gives us a hint as to the way he reached it. He says, "I have learned to be content." It is no small comfort to us common people, to get this from such a man. It tells us that even with him, it was not always thus; that at first he probably chafed amid discomforts, and had to "learn" to be contented in trial. It did not come naturally to him, any more than it does to the rest of us, to have peace in the heart, in time of external strife. Nor did this beautiful way of living come to him at once as a divine gift when he became a Christian. He was not miraculously helped to acquire contentment. It was not a special power granted to him as an apostle.

He tells us plainly in his old age, that he has "learned" it. This means that he was not always able to say, "I am content in any state." This was an attainment of his later years, and he reached it by struggle and by discipline, by learning in the school of Christ, just as all of us have to learn it if we ever do, and as any of us may learn it if we will.

Surely everyone who desires to grow into spiritual beauty, should seek to learn this lesson. Discontent is a miserable fault. It grieves God, for it springs from a lack of faith in him. It destroys one's own heart-peace; discontented people are always unhappy. It disfigures beauty of character. It sours the temper, ruffles the calm of sweet life, and tarnishes the loveliness of the spirit. It even works out through the flesh, and spoils the beauty of the fairest face. To have a transfigured face, one must have heaven in one's heart. Just in proportion as the lesson is learned, are the features brightened by the outshining of the indwelling peace. Besides all this, discontent casts shadows on the lives of others. One discontented person in a family, often makes a whole household wretched. If not for our own sake, then, we ought at least for the sake of our friends to learn to be contented. We have no right to cast shadows on other lives.

But how can we learn contentment? One step toward it is patient submission to unavoidable ills and hardships. No earthly lot is perfect. No mortal in this world, ever yet found a set of circumstances without some drawback. Sometimes it lies in our power to remove the discomfort. Much of our hardship is of our own making. Much of it would require but a little energy on our own part to cure. We surely are very foolish if we live on amid ills and frets, day after day, which we might change for comforts if we would. All removable troubles we ought, therefore, to remove. But there are trials which we cannot change into pleasures, burdens which we cannot lay off, crosses which we must continue to carry, and "thorns in the flesh" which must remain with their rankling. When we have such trials, why should we not sweetly accept them as part of God's best way with us? Discontent never made a rough path smoother, a heavy burden lighter, a bitter cup less bitter, a dark way brighter, a sorrow less sore. It only makes matters worse. One who accepts with patience what he cannot change, has learned the secret of victorious living.

Another part of the lesson is that we moderate our desires. Paul says, "If we have food and clothing—we will be content with these." 1 Timothy 6:8. Very much of our discontent arises from envy of those who seem to be more favored than ourselves. Many people lose most of the comfort out of their own lot, in coveting the finer things some neighbor has. Yet if they knew the whole story of the life they envy for its greater prosperity, they probably would not exchange for it their own lowlier life, with its homelier circumstances. Or if they could make the exchange, it is not likely they would find half so much real happiness in the other position, as they had enjoyed in their own. Contentment does not dwell so often in palaces—as in the homes of the humble. The tall peaks rise higher and are more conspicuous—but the winds smite them more fiercely than they do the quiet vales. And surely the lot in life which God makes for us—is always the very best that could be made for us for the time being. The cause of our discontent is not in our circumstances; if it were, a change might cure it. It is in ourselves; and, wherever we go, we shall carry it with us.

Envious desires for other people's places which seem finer than ours, prevent our getting the best blessing and good out of our own. Trying to grasp the things which are beyond our reach, we leave unseen, unappreciated, untouched, and despised, the many sweet bits of happiness which lie close about us. Someone says: "Stretching out his hand to catch the stars, man forgets the flowers at his feet, so beautiful, so fragrant, so multitudinous, and so various." A fine secret of contentment lies in finding and extracting all the pleasure we can get from the things we have, while we enter no mad, vain chase after impossible dreams. In whatever state we are, we may therein find enough for our need.

If we would learn the lesson of contentment, we must train ourselves to live for the higher things. One of the ancient wise men, having heard that a storm had destroyed his merchant ships, thus sweeping away all his fortune, said: "It is just as well, for now I can give up my mind more fully to study." He had other and higher sources of enjoyment, than his merchandise, and felt the loss of his ships no more than manhood feels the loss of childhood's toys. He was but a heathen philosopher; we are Christians. He had only his studies to occupy his thought when his property was gone; and we have all the blessed things of God's love. No earthly misfortune can touch the wealth a Christian holds in the divine promises and hopes.

Just in the measure, therefore, in which we learn to live for spiritual and eternal realities—do we find contentment amid earth's trials and losses. If we live to please God, to build up Christlike character in ourselves, and to lay up treasure in heaven—we shall not depend for happiness on the way things go with us here on earth, nor on the measure of temporal goods we have. The lower desires are crowded out by the higher. We can do without childhood's toys when we have manhood's better possessions; we need this world less as we get more of God and heaven into our hearts.

This was the secret of the contentment of the old prisoner whose immortal word is so well worth considering. He was content in any trial, because earth meant so little and Christ meant so much to him. He did not need the things he did not have; he was not made poor by the things he had lost; he was not vexed by the sufferings he had to endure, because the sources of his life were in heaven, and could not be touched by earthly experiences of pain or loss.

These are hints of the way we may learn in whatever state we are therein to be content. Surely the lesson is worth learning. One year of sweet content, amid earth's troublous scenes, is better than a lifetime of vexed, restless discontent. The lesson can be learned, too, by anyone who truly is Christ's disciple, for did not the Master say: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you"?

The artist painted life as a dark, storm-swept sea filled with wrecks. Then out on the wild sea-waves, he made a rock to arise, in a cleft of which, high up, amid herbage and flowers, he painted a dove sitting quietly on her nest. It is a picture of Christian peace in the midst of this world's strifes and storms. In the cleft of the rock is the home of content.

The Treasures of the Snow

The Treasures of the Snow
David James Burrell   (1844-1926)
 
"Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?" 
                                                   -Job 38:22

I am sorry for city people who never have known the delights of rural life. "God made the country, man made the town." What do they know about the singing birds and flowing brooks, the blooming fields and golden harvests? What do they know about the joys of winter; the glassy river, the tinkling bells, the merry shout of children issuing from the school-house door into the pleasures of the falling snow? To us in the great metropolis a snow-storm means naught but unsightly heaps at the street corners waiting to be carted off: it suggests no more than a question of health and possibly another of honesty in the administration of municipal affairs. 

Let us stand for a little while under the falling flakes and take the lessons that come to us. The treasures of the snow! Out of the mint of God up yonder falls this glorious wealth all stamped with his image and superscription. Inasmuch as snow was infrequent in the Holy Land there are not many references to it in Scripture; yet enough for helpful suggestion in many ways. Out of this treasury we bring seven golden texts, to wit: 

I. "The fool saith in his heart There is no God." The fool I catch a flake in my palm; nay, not there, else its fragile beauty will die in an instant, but rather on a velvet cushion and put it under a microscope. Now let the "fool" look and say again, "There is no God!"  Here is an epistle from somewhere asking as plainly as if pen and ink had written it, "Who made me?"  Did this miracle come by chance? Nay, out of nothing, nothing comes. Now catch another snowflake on this velvet cushion and a hundred more and a million more, for the air is filled with them; and out of these we will construct our proposition. If you speak of chance then let us reason under the law of chances. How shall we get our first term?  By making a progression of products, thus: multiply your first flake by your second, the second by the third, and so on while the snow-flakes fall. Multiply until you have exhausted the last flake in the heavens, then multiply that product by the last snow-storm and so on until you have exhausted the last snowflake that ever fell since the beginning of time. What have you?  A line of figures belting the globe again and again and again like parallels of latitude.  Now having our first term let us proceed with the calculation. It is a simple problem in proportion. As this line of figures is to one, so is the probability of a supreme intelligefice to the hypothesis of chance or a fortuitous concourse of actions. It is beginning to dawn upon us now why the good Book pronounces him to be a "fool" who says "There is no God." 

II. Our next golden text is this, "In wisdom hath he made them all."  A close examination of these snowflakes under the glass reveals the fact, (i) that every one is perfect, absolutely perfect; and in this the snowflake differs from every masterpiece of man.  The thing we make may approximate nearer and nearer to perfection, but never reaches it. Put the finest lace under the glass and it looks like a fishing-net of jute; its fairy figure running zigzag like a worm fence. On the other hand the snowflake grows finer and finer the more you magnify it.  Man's best work is a chronometer which will vary possibly a second in a twelvemonth.  Wonderful!  But if God were to run the planetary system by such a timepiece chaos would have ensued long ages ago. The sun is his chronometer. All his work is perfect, absolutely perfect. Perfection is the distinguishing characteristic of a divine thing. (2) Still further we note an infinite variety in these flakes of snow. Descartes announced that he had discovered ninety-three various forms or patterns. The words had scarcely fallen from his lips before another declared that he had found nine hundred. Indeed there is no limit to their diversity; it is fair to say that no two of them are precisely alike, just as no two leaves in Vallombrosa are alike, just as no two human faces are alike on all the earth. This infinite variety is also a distinguishing feature of the work of God. (3) But all these varied forms are patterned under a common law and under that law are uniform. How shall we account for this? Chance? Or has science otherwise explained it?  "Oh, the ancients in Job's time knew little about snow or any other natural phenomenon. Many things have been discovered since then. All this is explained. "Ah, by whom? What is snow? "Congealed vapor" But what is vapor and how congealed? Go on with your explanation. Whence this law? Law is usually supposed to suggest a lawgiver. You ask us to believe in a law like this with all its marvellous manifestations and no one behind it? You smile at our faith and call it credulity; but here is a burden that our faith cannot bear; it requires a greater credulity than ours to believe that all this merely happened. Go back as far as you can in your scientific researches and you will never reach the ultimate. You come to a curtain hanging before an inner chamber; draw it and you stand in the Holiest of All. 

III. Our next golden text is this, "There is the hiding of his power"  How feeble seem these fallen flakes. 

"Out of the bosom of the air, 
Out of the cloud-folds of his garment shaken; 
Over the woodlands wild and bare, 
Over the harvest fields forsaken, 
Silent and soft and slow 
Falleth the snow." 

Yet here is God's dynamite. In this apparent weakness is the hiding of his strength. The flake that falls into the cleft of the rock, with a few more of its feeble kinsfolk, shall take hold of the roots of the everlasting mountain and tear them asunder. This is God's way of working. He builds his temple without the sound of hammer or of axe. The sunshine, the atmosphere, the fallen rain; these are his calm potencies. You trample the snowflakes under foot, the children play with them; yet they have within them the possibility of great convulsion. Here are magazines of power. Men work amid demonstration, the shouting of ten thousand voices, the booming of heavy artillery. God's power is quiet, constant, persistent, infinite, everywhere. So ubiquitous is his omnipotence that men have sometimes taken Force to be their god. When it was desired to blow a ledge of rocks out of New York harbor there were years of preparation; digging of mines, placing of charges, laying of fuses; then the city stood listening; the explosion, the water spout, and it was done. God rides through the universe in his chariot of Almightiness and its ponderous wheels move as silently as the waving of a butterfly's wings. 

IV. Still another of the golden texts is, "He giveth his snow like wool,"  Rather like a covering of wool; that is to say, a coverlet. The figure appeals to us all. We are back again in the trundle-bed and the dear mother has come to hear us say our prayer and then to arrange the coverlet and tuck us in. So the good God cares for all nature; the seeds and roots; the burrowing and hibernating creatures; he covers them all over; giving his snow like wool. O infinite love! Shall he not much more care for you, O ye of little faith?  These snowflakes are "feathers from the wing of the Almighty protection."  He cares for us along the journey of life and when all is over and we lie down to our final rest, he still lays his coverlet above us. Out in the graveyard just now, as far as eye can see, are the mounds of the sleeping dead. He has given his snow like wool. So they abide the coming of the Lord's great day. 

V. Another of the golden texts is, "His raiment was white as snow." Here are three visions of the glorious One. Daniel saw him, when all the earth powers had vanished, approaching in a chariot of flame to take the seat of universal empire, while ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him, and lo! "His garment was white as snow." The chosen three went up with the Only Begotten of the Father into the Mount of Transfiguration, and while the cloud of "the most excellent glory"  folded them in, they saw him changed; his face shining like the sun and his garments "white as no fuller on earth could whiten them." The aged dreamer in Patmos saw him in the midst of the golden candlestick clothed in a priestly garment down to his feet; in his right hand seven stars; his voice as the sound of many waters; his countenance as the sun shineth in his strength; and his head and his hairs were "white as snow."  All this in token of his holiness.  The great multitude around his throne are ever praising him and saying, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty!"  Alas, then, what is to become of us, for we are as an unclean thing?  "Have mercy upon me, O God!" cried David shamed and tortured by his accusing conscience, "Have mercy upon me according unto thy loving kindness, and according to the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin; for I acknowledge my transgressions and my sin is ever before me. Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean; wash me and I shall be whiter than snow."  Is there an answer to that prayer? Can the sin-defiled soul be washed and made whiter than snow?  Aye ! 

VI. For here is another of the golden texts, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."  These falling flakes are messengers from the City of the Great King; each of them bringing a white flag of truce with overtures of peace. 

What is the blackest thing in aL tne world?  Not jet, nor ebony; not the raven's plume, nor the pupil of an Ethiop's eye. The blackest thing in all the world is said to be the blight at the heart of a flower when it is just stricken with death. So the blackest thing in the moral universe is sin at the centre of a soul, spreading corruption through the whole nature 
of man. 

What is the reddest thing in the world?  Not the glow of the sunrise or of the sunset; not the heart of a ruby. The reddest thing in the world is the stream that flows from the fountain of life.  Blood; "the life is in the blood." The most vivid of all tragedies is that of Calvary. In all the moral universe there is naught that so touches the heart of the race. 

What is the whitest thing in the world? Not ivory, nor molten silver, nor alabaster; not a lily painted on a spotless wall. The whitest thing in the world is the driven snow, for this is not superficial, but whiteness through and through. In all the moral universe there is nothing so glorious as the whiteness of holiness; the fine linen, clean and white, which is the righteousness of saints. 

What is the greatest thing in the world? Love ! Aye. Not our love to God, but God's love to us manifest in Jesus Christ. The love that holds the hyssop-branch of our frail faith and with it sprinkles the blood upon the soul defiled with the blackness of sin, until it becomes as white as the driven snow.  This is the marvellous alchemy of grace. There is forgiveness with God. 

VII. And yet another of tne golden texts, "When the Almighty scattered kings in it, it was as when it snoweth in Salmon." Here is the picture: a mountainside swept bare by the wind, the snow driven hither and thither upon it. What does it mean? These are not drifting masses of snow; these are the bones of the slain, bleached in the sun; these are shields of the mighty; these are ermine cloaks, royal mantles cast away in flight. A mighty rout! God's enemies have been put to shame. The great squadron has come forth riding on white horses and clothed in white linen, with one at their head arrayed in a garment dipped in blood as one who trod the winepress alone in their behalf.  Armageddon is over.  There are shouts of victory in the distance.  Babylon is fallen!  All hail the power of Jesus' name!  And here on Salmon naught but the drifting snow. 

Thanks be to God for this assurance of the glorious outcome. His Word is doing its work : "His word shall not return unto him void, but shall be like the snow which cometh down from heaven; it shall accomplish that which he doth please and prosper in the thing whereto he sends it."  In God's economy all things have their uses. Every snowflake is under commission.  So am I; so are you.  God help us to praise him in an implicit obedience like that of the forces of nature of which it is written: "Praise ye the Lord. Praise him from the heavens. Praise him from the earth. Ye monsters and all deeps; ye fire and hail; snow and vapor; stormy wind fulfilling his word!" 

Lightening the Load (and other devotionals)

Lightening the Load

When we get into the storms of life, it is often difficult to know what to do.  It can feel like the noise of our troubles drowns out everything else. 

In Acts 27 we find the apostle Paul caught in the midst of a horrible storm.  The ship was being tossed all over the place, and the situation was becoming quite serious.

Embedded in this story is a spiritual truth that can guide you and me when we get caught in the storms of life.  It is found in verses 18-19,

And because we were exceedingly tempest-tossed, the next day they lightened the ship.  On the third day we threw the ship's tackle overboard with our own hands.

Notice that when the storm got bad and threatened to capsize the ship, they lightened the load.

Sometimes in a storm you need to throw some things overboard.  In fact, it is a great time to evaluate any baggage that you are carrying in your life.  There are some things that may not be a sin to you, but they are a weight to you.

One of the things you need to carefully evaluate is your relationships.  There are some relationships you need to cut loose because they are hanging you up, holding you back, and they are hindering you from getting to where God wants you to go.

Or maybe it's something as simple as too much TV.  Watching TV may not be a sin, but it can sure be a weight!  It can sure be a hindrance to you hearing from God, especially when you are in a time of crisis.

If you really want to hear from God and get yourself unstuck, lighten your ship.

~Bayless Conley~

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Wilderness Communion

"I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her"   (Hosea 2:14).

The goodness of God sees us allured by sin, and it resolves to try upon us the more powerful allurements of love. Do we not remember when the Lover of our souls first cast a spell upon us and charmed us away from the fascinations of the world! He will do this again and again whenever He sees us likely to be ensnared by evil.

He promises to draw us apart, for there He can best deal with us, and this separated place is not to be a paradise, but a wilderness, since in such a place there will be nothing to take of our attention from our God. In the deserts of affliction the presence of the LORD becomes everything to us, and we prize His company beyond any value which we set upon it when we sat under our own vine and fig tree in the society of our fellows. Solitude and affliction bring more to themselves and to their heavenly Father than any other means.

When thus allured and secluded the LORD has choice things to say to us for our comfort. He "speaks to our heart," as the original has it. Oh, that at this we may have this promise explained in our experience! Allured by love, separated by trial, and comforted by the Spirit of truth, may we know the LORD and sing for joy!

~Charles Spurgeon~

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“Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” The words “once more” indicate the removing of what can be shaken – that is, created things – so that what cannot be shaken may remain. (Hebrews 12:26-27 NIV)

The fact is that, while certain things characterized the New Testament churches, the New Testament does not give us a complete pattern according to which churches are to be set up or formed! There is no blue-print for churches in the New Testament, and to try to form New Testament churches is only to create another system which may be as legal, sectarian and dead as others. Churches, like the Church, are organisms which spring out of Life, which Life itself springs out of the Cross of Christ wrought into the very being of believers.

This brings us to our particular point. What is the pressing imperative in view of this oncoming flood of testing, which has already carried away very many of those who were called Christian, and even evangelical Christians? Surely there is only one answer:- On the one hand, a ministry which has as its substance and object the "rooting and grounding," the establishing, the building up of believers, and the real increase of "the measure of Christ." This must get behind evangelism, so that the work is deep, not superficial; enduring, not transient; intrinsic, not general! On the other hand, believers must really take stock of their Christianity. Is it just a tradition, an assumption, an external system, the thing which is common acceptance – more or less? Or is it really "by revelation of Jesus Christ" in the heart? A real walk with God, and a growing knowledge of Christ, a life in the Spirit? God has said it: the things which can be shaken will be. What have we got that, being unshakable, will remain?

By T. Austin-Sparks

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The Lord thy God bare thee. Deuteronomy 1:31

A safe carriage was that! In His love and in His pity God redeemed them, and bare them, and carried them all the days of old. When the little lad was tired and complained of his head, his father bade a servant carry him to his mother; but God does not hand over His children to His servants, He carries them Himself. When we realize that His everlasting arms are underneath, it is safer riding than any the ingenuity of man can devise; and here we need fear no ill.

"In all the way." - There are great varieties in the way - sometimes the sleepers are badly laid, and the carriage rocks and jolts; sometimes the gradient is steep, and the progress tedious; sometimes the pilgrim has to go afoot, climbing with difficulty from ridge to ridge; sometimes the route lies through a territory infested with enemies, and haunted by miasma; but we can each rejoice in the fact that the Lord "knoweth the way that I take," and that all the way, those gentle and unwearied arms bear us up and on.

"All the days." - Never a day without its cross, its lesson, its discipline, its peril; but never a day that God does not bear us up in His hands, as some mighty river bears up the boat of the missionary explorer. Through wilds, past villages of infuriated savages, over reefs and rocks, the patient river bears the voyager and his goods. Thus does God carry us. The Good Shepherd carries the lambs in His bosom. Why, then, should we dread the future, or quail before the faces of our foes? "The eternal God is thy refuge; and underneath are the everlasting arms." So strong: so tender! Let yourself go, and trust.

~F. B. Meyer~

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Rock Bottom

Today's reading: 1 Samuel 28:1-25

What a sad picture of how distorted our thinking can become when we intentionally turn from God. Saul has continued to follow his own ways and now finds himself facing a strong Philistine army. In his fear, he inquires of God but gets no response, and things go downhill rapidly from there. Saul turns to a medium or necromancer (someone who calls on spirits of the dead) so he can speak with Samuel. The message Samuel provides confirms what Saul already knows in his heart--that God has turned from him and that the kingdom will be David's. Samuel also puts forth that Israel will be defeated and that Saul and his sons will perish in the battle. (Yikes!)

Saul's response to this serious and distressing news is disheartening. Instead of crying out to God and asking for forgiveness, he accepts the news with an attitude of "it is what it is." In my eyes, this was rock bottom for Saul. In the most critical time he still chose not to submit or turn to God.

What does this account reveal about the blinding effect of sin? What did God impress on your heart as you took in this passage? 

~Tami~

A Parable of Christian Growth

A Parable of Christian Growth

J. R. Miller


"I will heal their waywardness and love them freely, for my anger has turned away from them. I will be like the dew to Israel; he will blossom like a lily. Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots; his branches shall spread. His splendor will be like an olive tree, his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon." Hosea 14:4-6

God's forgiveness is astonishing. If we fail—He gives us another opportunity. Even the saddest ruin of a life, may be built into a holy temple of God. We have it all in a chapter in Hosea. We have the Divine pleading: "O Israel, return unto Jehovah your God; for you have fallen by your iniquity." Then the way back is marked out—confession, repentance, consecration. Then comes the assurance: "I will heal their waywardness and love them freely, for my anger has turned away from them." Then follows this wonderful promise of restoration and prosperity: "I will be like the dew to Israel; he will blossom like a lily. Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots; his young shoots will grow. His splendor will be like an olive tree, his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon."

It is a picture of beauty and fruitfulness. There had been bareness and desolation. Sin is drought. It causes blight. Every flower fades and every green thing withers. But God's love is like rain. It falls on the parched life and changes it to garden loveliness.

The prophet's words contain a parable of spiritual growth. We may note some of the features, for they belong to all true Christian life.

One of these qualities is purity. "He shall blossom like the lily." Recently a friend sent me half a dozen white lilies, and all the days since they have kept their freshness and their unblemished whiteness. They have preached their little sermon to everyone who has come in, saying, "Blessed are the pure in heart—for they shall see God." Have you ever noticed how earnestly this lesson of purity is taught in the Bible? Thus in one of the Psalms we have the question and the answer: "Who shall ascend into the hill of Jehovah? and who shall stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands, and a pure heart."

Then James tells us that we are to have "pure and undefiled religion before our God and Father." He tells us also that we are to keep ourselves "unspotted from the world." We are not to flee away from the world, for our duty is in it, and we must be in it to bless it, to do good in it, to be light in its darkness, to comfort its sorrow; but while in the world we are not to become stained by its sin or to have our garments soiled by its evil.

Someone tells of seeing an enameled plant growing on the edge of a coal mine. Though the black dust floated about it continually, not a particle of it adhered to the plant, and its snowy whiteness took no stain. This illustrates the purity which should always be found in the Christian life—in the world, but unspotted by its evil. That is the way the Master passed through this world. That is the way He would have us go through it.

Something else is necessary, however—more than our own good resolve—if our hearts and lives are to be like the lily in its immaculate whiteness. We need both Divine cleansing and Divine keeping. Meyer tells of calling one day, in his pastoral rounds, on a washerwoman whom he found hanging the last of her day's washing on the line. During his brief stay in her house there came a thick and sudden fall of snow. When he came out the ground was white. "Your clothes do not look as white as they did when I came in," Mr. Meyer remarked. "The clothes are just the same," the woman answered, "but what can stand against God's perfect white?" Compared with the snow, the whitest garments look soiled and dingy. We think we are reasonably pure and good—but when we stand beside the holy Christ—we see that we are unholy and unworthy and need cleansing. We must pray the prayer, "Wash me—and I shall be whiter than snow." Only Christ can cleanse us. Only He can keep us pure and clean. Purity is one of the qualities of the ideal Christian life.

Another quality of a true spiritual life is root. "Like a cedar of Lebanon he will send down his roots." Lilies are pure and gentle—but they are very frail, with shallow rooting, easily torn out of the ground. No one comparison tells all the story of a noble and worthy life. The cedar sends its roots down deep into the earth, anchoring it so securely that the wildest storm cannot tear it loose. Purity is essential in a Christian life. Gentleness and delicacy are unfailing characteristics of a Christlike spirit. But there must also be strength. It is never easy to live well in this world. We cannot hope to be kept always in a shelter of tender love, where no storm beats, where there are no struggles. Jesus Christ, God's only beloved Son, faced the most terrible temptations. His life was exposed to all manner of trials. No follower of His can pass through life and miss antagonism. There must be strengthto withstand the tempest—as well as purity to look into God's face. Roots are important, as well as whiteness. The trees that grow on the mountains are deeply and strongly rooted. So if we would stand true, steadfast, unmovable, as we are bidden to stand—we must be anchored by an unwavering faith in Christ.

The root is not the part of the tree that we admire the most. Indeed, it is not seen at all. No one praises it. It creeps down into the dark earth and is hidden. But we know its importance. It feeds the tree's life and then it holds the tree in its place amid the storms. Every strong character must have a deep root. Shallow rooting means a feeble power of resistance. Because it lacked root, the seed sown on rocky ground withered away in the first hot sun. We must be deeply rooted in Christ—if we would endure unto the end.

It takes both the gentleness of the lily, and the strength of the cedar—to make a true Christian character. Gentleness without strength is not noble—it is weakness. Strength without gentleness is not great—it is only brute force. But sweetness and strengthcombined, yield heroic manhood. Such a man was Jesus Christ.

Another quality in the beautiful life is breadth. "His branches shall spread." If there is strength with deep rooting, there will also be the extending of boughs. Life broadens as it grows. We all begin as babies—but we ought not to continue babies. We ought to grow into men, putting away childish things. Some people, however, seem never to advance in spiritual life.

One of the strange freaks of Japanese horticulture, is the cultivation of dwarf trees. The Japanese grow forest giants in flowerpots. Some of these strange miniature trees are a century old, and are only two or three feet high. The gardener, instead of trying to get them to grow to their best, takes infinite pains to keep them little. His purpose is to grow dwarfs, not giant trees. From the time of their planting—they are repressed, starved, crippled, stunted. When buds appear, they are nipped off. So the tree remains only a dwarf all its life.

Some Christian people seem to do the same thing with their lives. They do not grow. They rob themselves of spiritual nourishment, restrain the noble impulses of their nature, shut out of their hearts the power of the Holy Spirit, and are only dwarf Christians—when they might be strong in Christ Jesus, with the abundant hfe which the Master wants all His followers to have.

There is not enough breadth in many lives. We ought to grow in height, reaching up to the fullness of the stature of Christ. We ought to grow in the outreach of our lives. We ought to know more of God and of heavenly things tomorrow, than we do today. We are told that if we follow on we shall know, that if we do the little portion of the will of God, we understand we shall be led on to see and know more of that will. We ought to grow in love also, becoming more patient, more gentle, more thoughtful, more unselfish day by day, extending the reach of our unselfishness and helpfulness.

There is something else about these spreading branches. A little farther down in the chapter we read this: "The people will return and live beneath his shade." People find shelter and rest under the shadow of the good man's wide-spreading life. We all know people of whom that is true—others come and live beneath the shadow of their love, their strength, their beneficence. They live to serve others—not to be served by others. They seek always to do good to everyone they meet. Their doors are ever open to those who come needing counsel, cheer, help, and hope. They are an unspeakable blessing and comfort in the world. Their lives are like trees which cast a wide shade in which children play, beneath which the weary stop in their journey to rest.

There is something very admirable in the beauty of such a life as this picture suggests—a tree putting out its branches to make grateful shade and shelter for earth's hunted ones, hungry ones, weary ones, sorrowing ones. Too many people seek to broaden their lives—only to gather the more into their grasp for their own selfish ends; not to bless the world—but to gain the world for their own enriching. Others there are who seek to draw people to them—but whose branches do not make a safe and wholesome shelter for the weary and the troubled—but rather a poisoned and perilous shadow in which the innocent are harmed or even ruined. We who are Christians should be like trees of blessing, under which others may come, sure of finding only comfort and good.

Another of the qualities of the spiritual life suggested here is beauty. "His beauty shall be as the olive tree." Beauty is a quality of the complete Christian life. Writers note the fact that the beauty of the olive tree is peculiar. There are other trees which are more brilliant, more graceful in form. "The palm tree at once impresses by its elegance, the apple tree by its blossoms, the orange tree by its golden fruit and unique fragrance, the tulip tree by its gorgeous flowers. The olive tree, however, is by no means picturesque—it often looks even stunted and shabby. . . . But the soft delicate beauty grows upon you until, stirred by the wind, the shimmering silver of its leaves makes a picture. Just so, Christian character is often not in the least brilliant, heroic, or striking. The noblest men and women are modest, humble, simple souls; yet they reveal a mild and serious grace which is, in truth, the perfection of beauty."

Thus the olive tree becomes a true symbol of Christlike character—not showy, not flashing its brilliance in the eyes of men—but humble, quiet, adorned with the beauty which pleases Christ. Peter has some good words about true adorning for women: "Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight." 1 Peter 3:3-4

There is a clause in Paul's cluster of "whatsoevers" which make up his picture of noble, Christlike character that fits in here, "whatever things are lovely." We must never leave out the things that are lovely, when we are making up our ideal of spiritual life. There are unlovely things in the dispositions of too many people. We who are Christians should seek always to be rid of whatever is not beautiful. Our daily prayer should be, "Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us."

Paul told Timothy that the Word of God is "profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction." We know what correction is. Young people at school write exercises, and their teachers go over them and correct them, pointing out the mistakes. The Bible, if we read it as we should, corrects our faulty essays in living, shows us the errors in our lives, the defects in our characters, the flaws in our dispositions. What then? "Count that day happy," says Ruskin, "when you have discovered a fault in yourself!" Not happy because the fault is there—but because you know it now, that you may cure it!

Another quality of a true life suggested in this parable of growth is fragrance. "His fragrance will be like a cedar of Lebanon." "A good name is better than precious oil." Another of Paul's "whatsoevers" is very suggestive, "whatever things are of good report." There is an aroma that belongs to every life, which is the composite product of the things that are said about the person. Some men live beautifully, sweetly, patiently, unselfishly, helpfully, joyfully— speaking only good words, never rash, intemperate, unloving words, and walking among men carefully, humbly, reverently; and the fragrance of their lives is like that of Mary's ointment. Other men are ruled by SELF or by the world or by greed—they are of the earth, earthy. They are untruthful, resentful, unloving, of hasty speech—and we know what the stench of such lives is.

There is something very mysterious about perfume. No one can describe it. You cannot take a photograph of it. Yet it is a very essential quality of the flower. The same is true of that strange thing we call influence. Influence is the aroma of a life. The most important thing about our life is this subtle, undefinable, mysterious element of our personality, which is known as influence. This is really all of us that counts, in our final impression on other lives.

"His fragrance will be like a cedar of Lebanon." Lebanon's gardens and trees and fruits made delicious fragrance which filled all the region round about. Every Christian life ought to be fragrant—but there is only one way to make it so. Men gather the perfume from acres of roses and it fills only a little bottle. Your influence, the perfume of your life, is gathered from all the acres of your years—all that has grown upon those acres. If it is to be like the essence of ten thousand roses—sweet, pure, undefiled; your life must be all well watched, pure, sweet, holy, loving, true. Only roses must grow on your fields. The evil as well as the good is gathered, and goes to make the composite influence of your life.

We know how easily one's influence is hurt, how little follies and indiscretions in one's conduct or behavior, take away from the sweetness of one's reputation. Says the author of Ecclesiastes, "As dead flies give perfume a bad smell—so a little folly outweighs wisdom and honor." We need to think seriously of this matter. We are not always careful enough about keeping out the dead flies. There are many men who are good in the general tenor of their lives, godly, prayerful, consistent in larger ways—but the perfume of whose names is rendered unsavory by little dead flies in their common living. They are not always careful to keep their word; they are not prompt in paying their debts; they are not watchful of their speech; they are not loyal in their friendships; they are indiscreet in their relations with others; they are lacking in refinement or courtesy; they are resentful—we all know how many of these dead flies there are which cause the ointment of some people's names, to send forth an unsavory odor.

We need to watch our lives in the smallest matters, if we would keep our names sweet wherever we are known. Influence is most important. It is our mightiest force for good or evil. Let us keep it pure and good for Christ. Let us keep Christ always in it!

These are some of the lessons which this Old Testament nature-parable suggests. These are some of the essential qualities of a true Christian life. It should be pure. It should be deeply rooted in Christ and strong. It should spread out its branches and become a shelter and comfort to other lives. It should be beautiful with the beauty of humility, truth, and love. It should be fragrant with the aroma of a sweet, holy, and loving life.

Is the picture discouraging by reason of its lofty qualities? Is it so high in its excellence, that we seem unable to reach it? At a recent commencement, one of the speakers told of two scenes he had witnessed. The first was this:
He was in an artist's studio when the artist was about beginning his work on a canvas. He was putting a little daub of paint here, another daub there. There certainly was no semblance of anything beautiful on the canvas. Indeed, there seemed no evidence of any design, no trace of any form or figure, no clue to what the artist meant to do.

That was the first scene. This was the second:
A large company of people standing before a great picture, all admiring it and praising its beauty. This was the finished painting of which the artist, that day a year or two before, was making the first rough outline.

Let us not be discouraged because today the picture has almost none of the beauty which is envisioned in the noble ideal we have been studying. We are only beginning it. Let us continue at our holy task—until in every line it glows with the loveliness of the ideal. But remember we cannot dream the vision upon the canvas—we can put it there only by patient thought, effort, and discipline.

Then let us not forget that God will work with us in our efforts to grow into the Divine beauty, if only we seek His grace and help. There is a story of an artist-pupil who had wrought long at his canvas and was discouraged because the noble vision came so slowly, because his hand seemed so unskillful. Then one day he sat by his easel, weary and disheartened, and fell asleep. While he slept, his master came and, taking the brush, with a few swift touches finished the picture. That is the way our Master does with us, when we are doing our best and seem only to fail. He comes in the stillness and puts His own hand to our work and completes it.

There is one sentence in this parable of growth which is full of inspiration and hope: "I will be as the dew unto Israel." In the East, the dew is almost like rain with us. When there is no dew, everything burns up. When there is dew, the thirsty fields are refreshed. All the wonderful beauty described in these words, is produced by the night-mist or dew.

Now God says, "I will be as the dew unto Israel." What dew does for withering gardens and fields, God says He will do for His people—if they but repent and return to Him. He does not say He will send the dew—He says He will Himself be as the dew. So the dew which renews and refreshes withered lives—is God Himself! Let us learn well this great truth, that God would put Himself into our withered lives. That is the heart of our religion. We are not set merely to copy a picture upon canvas, to imitate a lovely model held before us. Christianity tells us of a Divine Spirit who with unseen hands comes to fashion the picture upon our spirits. "I will be as the dew unto Israel." What the dew or the rain is to the withered fields, God's Spirit will be to our bare, withered lives. We need only to yield ourselves to this gentle Holy Spirit.

Some of us are perplexed to know how we ever can grow into the purity, the strength, the breadth, the usefulness, the beauty, the sweetness of Christ. Imagine a field after long drought, its foliage drooping, its flowers withering, everything on it dying; perplexed and wondering how it ever can grow into garden beauty. Then a cloud comes up out of the sea and pours its gentle rains for hours upon the parched ground. The question is answered. All the field has to do—is to open its bosom to the treasures of the rain. All we have to do in our spiritual need—is to let God's Spirit into our hearts!

King Saul At the Witch's Cave

King Saul At the Witch's Cave
David James Burrell   (1844-1926)

"Then said Saul unto his servants, Seek me a woman that hath a familiar 
spirit, that I may go to her, and inquire of her. And his servants said to 
him, Behold, there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor."
                                                   -I Samuel 28:7

It is said, "There is no character in a photograph, because it is a portrait taken at a single sitting." The "composite photograph" gives the best impression of the real man. We want therefore to view Saul at different periods of his life. 

Our first glimpse of him is out upon the mountains where he seeks his father's asses. He is "a choice young man and a goodly, and among the children of Israel there is not a goodlier person than he." His stature and sturdy bearing remind us instantly of the fictional hero of epic tales. In the course of his quest he comes upon the home of the prophet Samuel, of whom he inquires the whereabouts of the lost asses. The prophet replied, "Set not thy mind on them, for they are found. And on whom is all the desire of Israel? Is it not upon thee?" 

He is next seen at the school of the prophets. Here he is getting rid of some of his roughness, the odor of the soil, and preparing in a measure, unawares, for the high office that awaits him. His character is changed; as it is written, "God gave him another heart, and the Spirit of- God came upon him." 

He is moved by new hopes and purposes. His remarkable presence in this company "coming down from the high place with a psaltery, and a tabret and a pipe and a harp before them," is remarked upon in a phrase which afterwards becomes a proverb, "Is Saul also among the prophets"? 

Next at Mizpeh. The people have been called together in solemn assemblage for the formal choice of a king. The lot is taken, and it falls upon the tribe of Benjamin; of the tribe of Benjamin the family of Matri is chosen; and in the family of Matri, the lot falls upon Saul, the son of Kish. He is sought for and cannot be found, for " behold, he hath hid himself among the stuff"; that is, the baggage which surrounds the camp. He is brought forth into the midst of the assembly, and his presence inspires the greatest enthusiasm, for when he stands among the people he is higher than any of them from his shoulder and upwards. And all the people shout, "God save the King"! 

But Saul himself seems to have been indifferent to his high calling. There were some among the people who looked upon him as a mere yeoman, and said, "How shall this man save us"? The king-elect returned to his farm. He gloried in the open air and the sunlight. He loved to throw back his shoulders and rejoice in the freedom of the fields. He was following the plow when messengers came to announce an incursion of the Ammonites. The town of Jabesh-gilead was besieged, and the cry of the terror, stricken people rang in his ears. He hewed in pieces a yoke of oxen, after the rude custom of that time, and sent them throughout the borders of Israel to enkindle their patriotic zeal, as the Scots were aroused in later times by the flaming cross upon their hills. He found himself at the head of a considerable army of volunteers; the martial spirit was 
aroused within him; he marched to the relief of the besieged city, and accomplished a great deliverance; as it is written, "He slew the Ammonites until the heat of the day." 

Then Saul assumed his proper place in the palace. He Was every inch a king, just and resolute, ruling in equity. A cabinet of remarkable counselors was gathered about him. Samuel was his court chaplain Abner was his secretary of war, Abiathar was the high priest; David soon became his lieutenant and confidential friend. The king now showed himself a man of magnetic control, and entered upon a remarkable career. Victory succeeded victory in the field. Those of the people who had formerly distrusted Saul now gathered loyally about him. 

But as time passed a strange malady falls upon him. We find him giving way to his passions and eccentric impulses. He is filled with envy and jealousy. He shows himself cruel and vindictive towards those who oppose him. At Michmash, in the absence of Samuel, desiring to offer sacrifice before the battle, he profanely takes matters into his own hands. He hurls his javelin at David, who seeks to comfort his melancholy. He massacres the priests at Nob. Is it the intoxication of power that has seized him? Is he realizing, in moral bondage, the result of his self-indulgence; as it is written, "He that doeth sin is the servant of it"? Or is he indeed possessed of an evil spirit? He rejects all divine counsels and admonitions, and seems determined to run upon the bosses of the shield of God, There is scarcely a more lamentable picture of the decay of character than this: 

So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn 

Which once he wore! 
The glory from his gray hairs gone 

Forevermore! 

Of all "we loved and honored, naught 

Save power remains, 
A fallen angel's pride of thought, 

Still strong in chains. 

All else is gone; from those great eyes 

The soul has fled. 
When faith is lost, when honor dies, 

The man is dead! 

Then pay the reverence of old days 

To his dead fame; 
Walk backward, with averted gaze, 

And hide the shame!

The affairs of the kingdom have now reached a crisis. The Philistines have crowded their way through the borders of Israel and massed themselves at the old battle-field of Esdraelon like a Tartar horde. The desperate and remorseful king knows 
not where to turn. His old adviser, Samuel, is dead. Abiathar, the priest, has gone and taken the Urim and Thummim with him. The priests, outraged by the massacre of their brethren, have forsaken him. He is no more counseled in dreams and visions of the night. The chill shadow of approaching disaster has fallen over him. He cannot go into this battle with 
out some supernatural support. He is at his wits end. At this point he learns of a female necromancer who plies her lawless trade among the hills. He disguises himself, and with two faithful friends makes his way to the witch's cave at En dor. It is night. 

And the king said, " I pray thee, divine unto me by the familiar spirit and bring me him up whom I shall name unto thee." 

Then said the woman, " Whom shall I bring up unto thee?" 

And he said, " Bring me up Samuel"  Samuel of all men whom he had loved and hated, grieved and persecuted, and ultimately driven to his death! 

The witch waved her wand, mumbled her cabalistic charms and suddenly uttered a shriek of surprise. And the king said, "Be not afraid. What seest thou?" 

The woman said, "I see a god rising from the earth"; and then, "An old man cometh up; he is covered with a mantle." The king bowed himself to the earth and received the intimation of his approaching defeat and death. 

It is an open question whether or no it was the real Samuel who appeared on this occasion. Not that the spirits of the dead may not return on occasion to this world; for did not Moses and Elijah commune with the Christ on the Mount of Transfiguration? But there are two suspicious facts in the present case; one is that Saul did not see Samuel. He took the 
witch's word for it, and he was in the very mood to believe that it was he. The other is that the message delivered by the spectre was nothing new. The king had previously been warned again and again of the calamity which was to overtake him. But I am not disposed to turn aside here into irrelevant or collateral questions, for there are certain practical truths and 
lessons which demand our attention. 

I. As to the probationary character of life. Saul had all along been on trial. In his call to the throne he had been required to meet certain tasks and responsibilities and was endowed with peculiar gifts and faculties for the discharge of them. If ever God was patient, it was with this man. He surrounded him with faithful counsellors who warned, exhorted and entreated him. He had a fair chance to make a success of character and life. So have we all "a fighting chance"; no more, no less. In many ways our circumstances are against us; but the "mark of true greatness is for a man to prove himself superior to his environment." It is for us to say whether we will fight down our lower nature and be true to our best impulses and to the God who is ever stimulating and remonstrating with us, or give way to our besetting sins and temptations. To triumph means character and usefulness ; to yield means an utter loss of manhood and ultimate exile from God.

II. The touch-stone of spiritual success is obediedice. There is no room for wilfulness in the better life. Saul was determined to have his own way and he had it. The turning point in his life was in his famous campaign against the Amalekites. The Lord had said, "Go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not." The result was an utter rout of the enemy; "Saul smote the Amalekites from Havilah until thou comest to Shur; and he took Agag, the king, alive; and spared also the best of the sheep and the oxen and the fatlings, and would not utterly destroy them." On his return from battle he met Samuel and said, " Blessed be thou of the Lord; I have performed the commandment of the Lord." And Samuel said, " What meaneth then this bleating of sheep and lowing of oxen which I hear?" The truth was, Saul had spared Agag to grace his own triumph; but he was probably right when he excused himself further by saying, "I have 
spared the sheep and oxen to sacrifice unto the Lord thy God." And the prophet said, "Why didst not thou obey the voice of the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." And rending his mantle, he said, "The-Lord hath rent the kingdom of Israel from thee this day." 

The beginning of the higher life is in a covenant of absolute subjection to the divine will. There must be no reservation. There can be no wilfulness. "Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you." No half-hearted service will answer. " My son give me thy heart." All or nothing! We cannot serve God and have our own way. "Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." 

III. There is such a thing as "grieving the Spirit" this is for those who profess to be the people of God. For the impenitent there is another phrase, " quenching the Spirit"; this is done in rejecting the overtures of mercy which are extended from time to time, as one puts out a kindling flame by repeatedly throwing water upon it. But we *' grieve " those whom we profess to love, our friends, our mothers, our counselors; we grieve them by repeated slights and affronts and in attentions. Our best friend is the Holy Spirit; he is constantly urging us to larger measures of grace and virtue and fruitfulness. He is grieved when we refuse his invitations and admonitions. He is grieved by habitual disobedience, by worldliness, by neglect of known duty, by persistence in sin. And with what result? 

Coldness of heart, discomfort, self-accusation, departure farther and farther from God. Then misery and hopelessness; no more Urim and Thummim; no more blessed visions in the night watches; no more walking with God in the cool of the day. We feel ourselves to be as Saul was, 
alone, forsaken. The awful consummation of such a course is seen in the bitterness of Christ's anguish on the cross, when, not for himself, but in behalf of those who have exposed themselves to this grievous pain of abandonment, he cried, "My God! My God! Why hast thou forsaken me?"

IV. But we must have some sort of religion. I call you to witness that no matter how far we may have wandered from our original devotion to Christ, we cannot live without some form of devotion. The soul craves it. If we cannot find God, we shall seek the witch of Endor. We know that we belong to two worlds. We must keep up our communication with the invisible and supernatural. The soul's thirst must be slaked at wayside pools if not at the river of life. 

Whither shall we go in our wandering? Into atheism? That is most unnatural; the evidence of "a power not ourselves making for righteousness" is so interwoven with the fibres of our being that denying God is like wrenching off an arm or plucking out an eye. It is the fool, and the fool only, who hath said in his heart, " There is no God." 

If not into atheism, where then? Into rationalism? To reject the revelation from above in order that we may follow the dictates of unaided reason is pure wilfulness; it leads us into all manner of error and unbelief. We wander about like a man lost on the prairie, with no landmarks anywhere, A level stretch of boundless, monotonous prospect on every side ; no path except that made by our own foot-prints, to which we ever return. We refuse to get our bearings from the only hopeful quarter, the stars that shine in heaven above us. This is to be lost indeed. 

Or if not into rationalism, perhaps into agnosticism? This is the logical outcome of the habit of rejecting truths which are constantly set before us. We begin by doubting and end by saying, "I know not. There may be a God; but I cannot see him. It is possible that there is a future life; but no one has returned to speak definitely about it. The Scriptures may be true; but there is a difference of opinion, and I am not wise enough to solve it." So we find ourselves at the last like those eyeless fish in the waters of the Mammoth Cave, who have nothing but scars to show that once they could see. 

Or it may be that we find ourselves joined to some form of base superstition. Saul was a spiritualist. I do not say that there is no truth underlying this most specious form of falsehood. But for the so-called "spiritualism" of these times I have no feeling but of contempt and abhorrence. The idea that our dear ones who have gone to glory, to sit at the feet of 
Jesus in the heavenly splendors, should return to earth to tap tables and hide in cabinets and submit to materialization in darkened rooms, to drivel sentimental nothings and meaningless trivialities at the call of male and female transcendentalists of generally doubtful character, is too puerile and contemptible for a moment's thought. And experience proves that danger lies that way. 

I had a schoolmate once, the son of a clergyman, taught by a Christian mother to receive the simple truths of the Gospel, who as time passed, following his own inclinations, forsook the covenant with its moral precepts and yielded himself a willing attendant at the witch's cave. He deemed himself a profound thinker, and asserted that he had found a system of philosophy far better than the Gospel of Christ. He finished his course in the murder of President Garfield; and he excused himself for that dreadful crime by saying that he was under the control of a supernatural influence. 

The danger point is at the divergence of the paths. The star that swings out of its orbit by a single inch, is lost forever in infinite space. God, the Bible, the influence of the Spirit, these mark the appointed route of the Christian life. The moment we depart from them we are on dangerous ground. The Christian system is like a chain whose strength is lost if but a single link be broken. To say that we believe with a reservation, is to say that we do not believe at all. And this is the tendency of our time, to place one's own heart and reason over against the divine authority. " For I bear them record that they have a zeal of God; but not according to knowledge; for they being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God." If we persist in such a course, wilful and unrestrained, it is certain that we shall ultimately be "given over to believe a lie." 

The last chapter in the history of Saul remains to be told. On the heights of Gilboa he met the Philistines. The figure of the stalwart king was to be seen amid a shower of arrows, desperation in his face.  A troop of the enemy had driven him up a steep hill, and there he stood at bay. His three sons had been slain; his armor-bearer lay dead beside him; his shield, stained with blood, had been cast away, and he leaned heavily upon his spear, weak from a self-inflicted wound. The dizziness and darkness of death were before him; he reeled and fell. The next morning his armor was fastened above the altar of the Ashtaroth and his headless body was impaled on the wall of Beth-shan like a captured bird of prey. 

Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. Back to thy first love, O believer in Christ! Back to thy covenant and thy vows of espousal! Back to the old-fashioned Book which is thy only infallible rule of faith and practice! Back to the mercy seat where once thy communion was so sweet with. God! It is not too late; the hands of mercy are stretched out still. 

In the recent exhibit at the Luxembourg there was one picture by an American artist which attracted great attention. It was called "The Return." A wandering son in rags and tatters has come home; he kneels in an attitude of hopeless anguish by the 
side of the high bed whereon his father lies dead with the candles about him. Too late! too late! 

This is not true. The Father never dies; the prodigal may. The Father waits with outstretched hands. Here is the divine record, "And he arose and came to his father. But when he was a great way off his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him."  

Those Who Hold Fast Will One Day Rule (and other devotionals)

Those Who Hold Fast Will One Day Rule

BIBLE MEDITATION:

“But that which ye have already, hold fast till I come. And he that overcometh, and keepeth My works unto the end, to him will I give power over the nations. And he shall rule them with a rod of iron; as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to shivers: even as I received of my Father.” Revelation 2:25-27

DEVOTIONAL THOUGHT:

In these days there will be more temptation to get away from the Word of God, the blood atonement, and salvation by grace through faith. Churches will be under attack by seducing spirits and doctrines of demons. Here in Jesus’ message to Thyatira He says, “You hold fast till I come.” 

Even though it seems to be tough, remember this, dear friend—the saints are going to have their day. Look in verse 26. One of these days Jesus is going to come and rule this world, and we are going to rule with Him. 

If we suffer with Him, we'll also reign with Him (2 Timothy 2:12). We are even going to judge angels (1 Corinthians 6:3). It may not be long before Jesus comes and His millennial reign begins here on this earth. The Bible clearly says that it's going to be a powerful reign (v. 27).

ACTION POINT:


Don't give up, don't let down. Hold fast, stick to it, stay with the Word of God. Hold fast that old truth. Hold fast to this old Book and don't let go. 

~Adrian Rogers~

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The Power of Zero

Perhaps you are in a very stressful time in your life right now, and you feel you can't go on.  I want you to know that you are not alone.  In fact, some of the greatest men and women of God have gone through what you are going through right now.

One of those individuals is the prophet Elijah whom I mentioned in yesterday's devotional.  After a great spiritual victory over the priests of Baal, we find him on the run, wondering whether life is even worth it.

We catch the story in 1 Kings 19:4-6,

But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a broom tree.  And he prayed that he might die, and said, "It is enough!  Now, LORD, take my life, for I am no better than my fathers!"  Then as he lay and slept under a broom tree, suddenly an angel touched him, and said to him, "Arise and eat."  Then he looked, and there by his head was a cake baked on coals, and a jar of water.  So he ate and drank, and lay down again.

Elijah had reached that "zero" place in his life.  There was nothing left.  He had given it all and the tank was empty.

Maybe that describes you right now, you are on the verge of quitting.  You figure, "I've had enough.  I'm done.  Enough pressures, enough hassles, I cannot ride this thing out anymore.  My strength is gone!" 

Well, did you notice that when Elijah was at the end of his strength, that was when God intervened?  Being out of strength, being at zero, is not a bad place to be. If you will look to God, He is prepared to meet you in your moment of need.

~Bayless Conley~

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Valiant for Truth

"The people that do know their God shall be strong, and do exploits"   (Daniel 11:32).
The LORD is a man of war, Jehovah is his name." Those who enlist under His banner shall have a Commander who will train them for the conflict and give them both vigor and valor. The times of which Daniel wrote were of the very worst kind, and then it was promised that the people of God would come out in their best colors: they would be strong and stout to confront the powerful adversary.

Oh, that we may know our God: His power, His faithfulness, His immutable love, and so may be ready to risk everything in His behalf. He is One whose character excites our enthusiasm and makes us willing to live and to die for Him. Oh, that we may know our God by familiar fellowship with Him; for then we shall become like Him and shall be prepared to stand up for truth and righteousness. He who comes forth fresh from beholding the face of God will never fear the face of man. If we dwell with Him, we shall catch the heroic spirit, and to us a world of enemies will be but as the drop of a bucket. A countless array of men, or even of devils, will seem as little to us as the nations are to God, and He counts them only as grasshoppers. Oh, to be valiant for truth in this day of falsehood.

~Charles Spurgeon~

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Question: "What does the Bible mean that we are not to judge others?"

Answer: Jesus’ command not to judge others could be the most widely quoted of His sayings, even though it is almost invariably quoted in complete disregard of its context. Here is Jesus’ statement: “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” (Matthew 7:1). Many people use this verse in an attempt to silence their critics, interpreting Jesus’ meaning as “You don’t have the right tell me I’m wrong.” Taken in isolation, Jesus’ command “Do not judge” does indeed seem to preclude all negative assessments. However, there is much more to the passage than those three words.

The Bible’s command that we not judge others does not mean we cannot show discernment. Immediately after Jesus says, “Do not judge,” He says, “Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs” (Matthew 7:6). A little later in the same sermon, He says, “Watch out for false prophets. . . . By their fruit you will recognize them” (verses 15–16). How are we to discern who are the “dogs” and “pigs” and “false prophets” unless we have the ability to make a judgment call on doctrines and deeds? Jesus is giving us permission to tell right from wrong.

Also, the Bible’s command that we not judge others does not mean all actions are equally moral or that truth is relative. The Bible clearly teaches that truth is objective, eternal, and inseparable from God’s character. Anything that contradicts the truth is a lie—but, of course, to call something a “lie” is to pass judgment. To call adultery or murder a sin is to likewise to pass judgment—but it’s also to agree with God. When Jesus said not to judge others, He did not mean that no one can identify sin for what it is, based on God’s definition of sin.

And the Bible’s command that we not judge others does not mean there should be no mechanism for dealing with sin. The Bible has a whole book entitled Judges. The judges in the Old Testament were raised up by God Himself (Judges2:18). The modern judicial system, including its judges, is a necessary part of society. In saying, “Do not judge,” Jesus was not saying, “Anything goes.”

Elsewhere, Jesus gives a direct command to judge: “Stop judging by mere appearances, but instead judge correctly” (John 7:24). Here we have a clue as to the right type of judgment versus the wrong type. Taking this verse and some others, we can put together a description of the sinful type of judgment:

Superficial judgment is wrong. Passing judgment on someone based solely on appearances is sinful (John 7:24). It is foolish to jump to conclusions before investigating the facts (Proverbs 18:13). Simon the Pharisee passed judgment on a woman based on her appearance and reputation, but he could not see that the woman had been forgiven; Simon thus drew Jesus’ rebuke for his unrighteous judgment (Luke7:36–50).

Hypocritical judgment is wrong. Jesus’ command not to judge others in Matthew 7:1 is preceded by comparisons to hypocrites (Matthew 6:2, 5, 16) and followed by a warning against hypocrisy (Matthew 7:3–5). When we point out the sin of others while we ourselves commit the same sin, we condemn ourselves (Romans 2:1).

Harsh, unforgiving judgment is wrong. We are “always to be gentle toward everyone” (Titus 3:2). It is the merciful who will be shown mercy (Matthew 5:7), and, as Jesus warned, “In the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you” (Matthew 7:2).

Self-righteous judgment is wrong. We are called to humility, and “God opposes the proud” (James 4:6). The Pharisee in Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector was confident in his own righteousness and from that proud position judged the publican; however, God sees the heart and refused to forgive the Pharisee’s sin (Luke 18:9–14).

Untrue judgment is wrong. The Bible clearly forbids bearing false witness (Proverbs 19:5). “Slander no one” (Titus 3:2).

Christians are often accused of “judging” or intolerance when they speak out against sin. But opposing sin is not wrong. Holding aloft the standard of righteousness naturally defines unrighteousness and draws the slings and arrows of those who choose sin over godliness. John the Baptist incurred the ire of Herodias when he spoke out against her adultery with Herod (Mark 6:18–19). She eventually silenced John, but she could not silence the truth (Isaiah 40:8).

Believers are warned against judging others unfairly or unrighteously, but Jesus commends “right judgment” (John7:24, ESV). We are to be discerning (Colossians 1:9; 1 Thessalonians 5:21). We are to preach the whole counsel of God, including the Bible’s teaching on sin (Acts 20:27; 2 Timothy 4:2). We are to gently confront erring brothers or sisters in Christ (Galatians 6:1). We are to practice church discipline (Matthew 18:15–17). We are to speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15).

~GotQuestions.org~