“He leadeth them out& he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him.” John 10:3,4
The Oriental shepherd does not drive his sheep, but leads them wherever he wants to take them. At night he leads them into the fold for safety. In the morning he leads them out to pasture. So Christ never drives His people; He goes before them and leads them, and they follow Him.
Sheep need to be led. They have no such instinct for finding their own way as most other animals have. Christ’s people are just like them. Sheep wander away, and a lost sheep never finds its way back. “All we like sheep have gone astray;” and we never could find the way home again if the Good Shepherd did not seek us and lead us back. Christ leads His people gently. He goes before His sheep. He is very thoughtful for the weak ones. “He gathers the lambs in His arms, and carries them in His bosom.” He never leads His sheep too fast. He takes them sometimes over rough and dangerous ways, but He never loses any of them. Not a sheep of Christ’s was ever yet lost by the way under His guidance, even in the most perilous paths.
An old guide said to a tourist in the Alps, who was afraid to trust himself to the guide’s hand to be helped over some perilous ledge, “This hand never lost a man.” Christ never lost a man. He has led millions home over this world’s paths, but not one of them ever perished in the way. “Those that thou gavest me I have kept, and not one of them is lost.”
Christ leads His sheep to the pastures and by the still waters. Sometimes He leads them over deserts, and along thorny paths, and through dark gorges; but He is always just before them, and where He is they are safe. At the last He leads them through the valley of the shadows into the heavenly fold. There they shall be safe eternally, and be blessed in His love.
2010-03-30
The Good Shepherd
“He calleth his own sheep by name.” John 10:3
There is a great difference between the care which the owner gives and that which a servant or hireling gives. There is a difference between the way a true mother looks after her child and the way a hired nurse does it. This is seen especially when the child is sick or in danger. The nurse serves for pay; the mother serves for love. Christ the Good Shepherd is the owner of His sheep.
There is something very sweet in the thought that Christians are Christ’s own. It suggests how dear they are to Him. “Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end.” The thought also brings with it the assurance of love and care. His will is that “his own,” shall be with Him in heaven forever. The thought suggests also much about our duty to Christ. If we are of “his own,” He has the entire right to the disposal or our lives and our services.
There is something very wonderful in the thought that Christ calls His sheep by their individual names. There are some pastors who do not know their people by name when they have but a few hundred to know. Christ has millions scattered over all the world; it is hard for us to realize that every one of these He knows personally by name. The Bible tells us that He calleth the stars by their names, but then the stars are so big that it does not seem so strange. But here is a poor widow, one of “his own,” living in a desolate garret in the heart of a great city, amid thronging thousands. Does He know her name? Here is a little orphan child, one of “his own,” left with no human friend to protect. Does He know this little one? Certainly He does. This ought to be a very precious truth to everyone who loves Christ and belongs to Him. He knows if any of “his own” are suffering or in need, or if they are in danger; and He will never neglect even the least of “his own.”
There is a great difference between the care which the owner gives and that which a servant or hireling gives. There is a difference between the way a true mother looks after her child and the way a hired nurse does it. This is seen especially when the child is sick or in danger. The nurse serves for pay; the mother serves for love. Christ the Good Shepherd is the owner of His sheep.
There is something very sweet in the thought that Christians are Christ’s own. It suggests how dear they are to Him. “Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them unto the end.” The thought also brings with it the assurance of love and care. His will is that “his own,” shall be with Him in heaven forever. The thought suggests also much about our duty to Christ. If we are of “his own,” He has the entire right to the disposal or our lives and our services.
There is something very wonderful in the thought that Christ calls His sheep by their individual names. There are some pastors who do not know their people by name when they have but a few hundred to know. Christ has millions scattered over all the world; it is hard for us to realize that every one of these He knows personally by name. The Bible tells us that He calleth the stars by their names, but then the stars are so big that it does not seem so strange. But here is a poor widow, one of “his own,” living in a desolate garret in the heart of a great city, amid thronging thousands. Does He know her name? Here is a little orphan child, one of “his own,” left with no human friend to protect. Does He know this little one? Certainly He does. This ought to be a very precious truth to everyone who loves Christ and belongs to Him. He knows if any of “his own” are suffering or in need, or if they are in danger; and He will never neglect even the least of “his own.”
2010-03-29
The Blind Man's Obedience
“He went his way therefore, and washed, and came seeing.” John 9:7
We must mark the promptness of this blind man’s obedience. See him rising from his place, and led by some attendant, walking along the street with the patches of mud upon his eyes. People probably laughed at him as he went along, but he did not mind it. Christ had told him to go to the pool of Siloam and wash, and he was going to do it. Was not the great blessing of sight boon enough to compensate for any trouble in going after it? He would not be laughed out of the cure that was so near to his hand.
Perhaps some people told him it was all nonsense — that mud never cured any one’s blindness, and that the Siloam water had no such wondrous power. Still he pressed on through the long streets, amid the hooting and laughing people, until he came to the pool. There he washed, and lo! as he washed, his eyes, which never had seen before, now saw clearly. For the first time in all his life he saw the beautiful things about him — the skies, the hills, the buildings, the colours, the faces of the people. So his faith was rewarded.
In all this there is an analogy which is so obvious that it scarcely need be written out. This man’s faith in taking that walk through the streets to the pool illustrates the kind of faith every sinner must exercise in obeying Christ, if he would have his spiritual eyes opened and be saved. People sneer at the Christian, and ask, “What good is it going to do you to trust in Christ and unite with the Church?” Then the result — the opening of his eyes to see the world of natural beauty never seen before, though lying close all the years — illustrates the revelation which faith in Christ brings to the believing soul. God’s face and heaven’s invisible things burst upon the spiritual vision of him whose soul’s eyes are opened. So faith has its reward.
We must mark the promptness of this blind man’s obedience. See him rising from his place, and led by some attendant, walking along the street with the patches of mud upon his eyes. People probably laughed at him as he went along, but he did not mind it. Christ had told him to go to the pool of Siloam and wash, and he was going to do it. Was not the great blessing of sight boon enough to compensate for any trouble in going after it? He would not be laughed out of the cure that was so near to his hand.
Perhaps some people told him it was all nonsense — that mud never cured any one’s blindness, and that the Siloam water had no such wondrous power. Still he pressed on through the long streets, amid the hooting and laughing people, until he came to the pool. There he washed, and lo! as he washed, his eyes, which never had seen before, now saw clearly. For the first time in all his life he saw the beautiful things about him — the skies, the hills, the buildings, the colours, the faces of the people. So his faith was rewarded.
In all this there is an analogy which is so obvious that it scarcely need be written out. This man’s faith in taking that walk through the streets to the pool illustrates the kind of faith every sinner must exercise in obeying Christ, if he would have his spiritual eyes opened and be saved. People sneer at the Christian, and ask, “What good is it going to do you to trust in Christ and unite with the Church?” Then the result — the opening of his eyes to see the world of natural beauty never seen before, though lying close all the years — illustrates the revelation which faith in Christ brings to the believing soul. God’s face and heaven’s invisible things burst upon the spiritual vision of him whose soul’s eyes are opened. So faith has its reward.
2010-03-28
Sight To The Blind
“I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.” Mark 14:7
It is related that one day, several summers ago, the Empress of Austria was riding over the countryside in her carriage. A little distance from the road she saw a woman acting in a strange manner. She soon discovered that the woman was blind, and further, that she was so close to a precipice — that another step might hurl her to her death. The Empress quickly left her carriage and hurried to the poor woman, just in time to save her life. The world admires the act, but here is one still more beautiful. The King of Glory sees a poor blind beggar sitting in darkness, is moved with compassion for him, and stops to open his eyes.
We may trace here the course of Christ with this blind man. He saw him, and was touched by his condition. So the sight of a sinner always touches Christ. He came unasked to the blind man, and brought the healing unsought to him. He touched his eyes, bringing Himself as the light of the world into contact with the man’s darkness. So Christ comes first to us, not waiting to be sought. In His incarnation He brought Himself in contact with our fallen nature to save it. By His Spirit He touches each blind soul that believes, and brings light and salvation to it.
He used means with the blind man, making clay with the spittle, anointing the man’s eyes, then sending him to wash. Christ uses means in the opening of men’s spiritual eyes also. He sends His grace to us through His Word, through the ordinances, through the touch and love of human friends.
He gave this man something to do, something requiring obedience and action. So He gives the sinner something to do, asking him to believe, to rise up, to wash in the fountain, to confess his Saviour, and follow Him into lowly service. Thus, the curing of this blind man illustrates the opening of the spiritual eyes.
It is related that one day, several summers ago, the Empress of Austria was riding over the countryside in her carriage. A little distance from the road she saw a woman acting in a strange manner. She soon discovered that the woman was blind, and further, that she was so close to a precipice — that another step might hurl her to her death. The Empress quickly left her carriage and hurried to the poor woman, just in time to save her life. The world admires the act, but here is one still more beautiful. The King of Glory sees a poor blind beggar sitting in darkness, is moved with compassion for him, and stops to open his eyes.
We may trace here the course of Christ with this blind man. He saw him, and was touched by his condition. So the sight of a sinner always touches Christ. He came unasked to the blind man, and brought the healing unsought to him. He touched his eyes, bringing Himself as the light of the world into contact with the man’s darkness. So Christ comes first to us, not waiting to be sought. In His incarnation He brought Himself in contact with our fallen nature to save it. By His Spirit He touches each blind soul that believes, and brings light and salvation to it.
He used means with the blind man, making clay with the spittle, anointing the man’s eyes, then sending him to wash. Christ uses means in the opening of men’s spiritual eyes also. He sends His grace to us through His Word, through the ordinances, through the touch and love of human friends.
He gave this man something to do, something requiring obedience and action. So He gives the sinner something to do, asking him to believe, to rise up, to wash in the fountain, to confess his Saviour, and follow Him into lowly service. Thus, the curing of this blind man illustrates the opening of the spiritual eyes.
2010-03-27
The Night Cometh
“I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.” Mark 14:7
Even Jesus felt the pressure of time’s brevity, and the necessity for doing promptly and quickly the work which had been given Him to do. How much more should we feel this pressure, and hasten to improve the moments as they fly. We have all some work given us by God Himself. We are in the world on Divine missions — sent from God to take some specific part in blessing the world.
To do this work we have just a “day” of time. Each one’s day is his lifetime. A day is a brief time: it is not long from the rising to the setting of the sun. It is a fixed time: when the sun comes to his going down, no power in the universe can prolong his stay for one moment. When death comes he will not wait one instant. Unfinished then, unfinished for ever.
Yet the day is long enough for God’s plan. The sun never sets too soon for His purpose. Each little life is long enough for the little part of the world’s work allotted to it. This is true even of the infant that lives but an hour, merely coming into this world, smiling its benediction, and flying away. It is true of the child, of the young man or young woman, of him who dies in the maturity of his powers, with his hands yet full of unfinished tasks. No one can ever offer as an excuse for an unfulfilled life-work that the time given to him was too short. It is always long enough if only every moment of it be filled with simple faithfulness.
To have our work completed at the end, we must do it while the day lasts. Mr. M’Cheyne¹ had on his watch-dial a picture of the setting sun, and over it the words, “The night cometh.” Every time he looked at his watch to see the hour he was reminded of the shortness of life, and of the urgent necessity for earnestness in duty. We should all catch the lesson.
Even Jesus felt the pressure of time’s brevity, and the necessity for doing promptly and quickly the work which had been given Him to do. How much more should we feel this pressure, and hasten to improve the moments as they fly. We have all some work given us by God Himself. We are in the world on Divine missions — sent from God to take some specific part in blessing the world.
To do this work we have just a “day” of time. Each one’s day is his lifetime. A day is a brief time: it is not long from the rising to the setting of the sun. It is a fixed time: when the sun comes to his going down, no power in the universe can prolong his stay for one moment. When death comes he will not wait one instant. Unfinished then, unfinished for ever.
Yet the day is long enough for God’s plan. The sun never sets too soon for His purpose. Each little life is long enough for the little part of the world’s work allotted to it. This is true even of the infant that lives but an hour, merely coming into this world, smiling its benediction, and flying away. It is true of the child, of the young man or young woman, of him who dies in the maturity of his powers, with his hands yet full of unfinished tasks. No one can ever offer as an excuse for an unfulfilled life-work that the time given to him was too short. It is always long enough if only every moment of it be filled with simple faithfulness.
To have our work completed at the end, we must do it while the day lasts. Mr. M’Cheyne¹ had on his watch-dial a picture of the setting sun, and over it the words, “The night cometh.” Every time he looked at his watch to see the hour he was reminded of the shortness of life, and of the urgent necessity for earnestness in duty. We should all catch the lesson.
2010-03-26
Spiritual Blindness
“As Jesus passed he saw a man which was blind from his birth.” John 9:1
The blind man illustrates everyone’s natural condition. For one thing, he had never been able to see. So men are born in a state of sin. Whatever we may say about the sweetness, innocence, and purity of childhood, the Scriptures plainly teach that no one is born by natural birth in the kingdom of heaven, but that all must be born again to enter it.
Another point of analogy is, that this man’s blindness shut off from him a whole world of beauty. There were lovely things all around him — green fields, sweet flowers, blue skies, bright sunshine, shining stars; but he never saw any of these things. So there is a whole world of spiritual beauty lying about the unregenerate and above him — the love of God, Divine promises, blessed hopes, the heavenly kingdom, all the joys of salvation; but he sees nothing of all this glorious world.
It is said that a lady looking at one of Turner’s¹ pictures, delineating some scene of nature, said to the artist, “Mr. Turner, I cannot see in nature what you put in your pictures.” The artist’s quiet answer was, “Don‘t you wish you could, madam?” Men of the world observe the raptures of Christian faith and Christian hope, and read the joyous words of Christian experience, and say with a sneer, “We cannot see any such joys as these in religion.” The only proper answer is, “Don‘t you wish you could?” It takes the artist’s eye to see the glory of nature; it takes the opened eye of Christian faith to see the glories of God’s spiritual kingdom.
For another thing, this blind man’s condition was incurable. In this, too, his case illustrated the condition of every sinner. The sinner is incurable, and none but Christ can remove his spiritual blindness. “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
The blind man illustrates everyone’s natural condition. For one thing, he had never been able to see. So men are born in a state of sin. Whatever we may say about the sweetness, innocence, and purity of childhood, the Scriptures plainly teach that no one is born by natural birth in the kingdom of heaven, but that all must be born again to enter it.
Another point of analogy is, that this man’s blindness shut off from him a whole world of beauty. There were lovely things all around him — green fields, sweet flowers, blue skies, bright sunshine, shining stars; but he never saw any of these things. So there is a whole world of spiritual beauty lying about the unregenerate and above him — the love of God, Divine promises, blessed hopes, the heavenly kingdom, all the joys of salvation; but he sees nothing of all this glorious world.
It is said that a lady looking at one of Turner’s¹ pictures, delineating some scene of nature, said to the artist, “Mr. Turner, I cannot see in nature what you put in your pictures.” The artist’s quiet answer was, “Don‘t you wish you could, madam?” Men of the world observe the raptures of Christian faith and Christian hope, and read the joyous words of Christian experience, and say with a sneer, “We cannot see any such joys as these in religion.” The only proper answer is, “Don‘t you wish you could?” It takes the artist’s eye to see the glory of nature; it takes the opened eye of Christian faith to see the glories of God’s spiritual kingdom.
For another thing, this blind man’s condition was incurable. In this, too, his case illustrated the condition of every sinner. The sinner is incurable, and none but Christ can remove his spiritual blindness. “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
2010-03-25
My Neighbour
“A certain Samaritan … had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds” Luke 10:33,34
Now we must not conclude that the half-heathen Samaritans were better as a class than the highly-favoured Jews. Our Lord uses a Samaritan in His parable because He wants to impress the law of love. No matter who the sufferer is that we come upon in any of life’s paths, he is our neighbour. He may be a very worthless sort of man; but no matter, he is our neighbour. As we look closely at him, we may see that he is an enemy. Once he did us a bitter, cruel wrong, and he has no claim whatever on us for sympathy or for help; but no matter, he is our neighbour. The person of the human race that we find suffering or in need of any kind becomes for the time our neighbour, — the one neighbour to whom for the present we owe love.
There is more definition here: we learn what the word “love” means. You say, “I can’t love hateful people; I can’t love criminals; I can’t love a poor tramp.” Nobody expects you to love such people as you love your wife, your child, your friend. It is not likely that this Samaritan had a tender affection for this wounded Jew while he was helping him. Samaritans were not in the habit of loving Jews very deeply. But he did not look at the man and calculate whether he loved him or not before he began to attend to his wounds. Yet he loved him precisely as the commandment meant he should love him. His love was not a warm emotion; it was a very practical affection.
First it was pity: he had compassion on him. But pity is sometimes a very useless emotion, — merely a tear that comes easily, and costs nothing. This good wayfarer had more than a tear. His pity got into his hands and into his pocket. He went to the man and bound up his wounds and helped him to an inn, and gave attention to him until he was restored.
Now we must not conclude that the half-heathen Samaritans were better as a class than the highly-favoured Jews. Our Lord uses a Samaritan in His parable because He wants to impress the law of love. No matter who the sufferer is that we come upon in any of life’s paths, he is our neighbour. He may be a very worthless sort of man; but no matter, he is our neighbour. As we look closely at him, we may see that he is an enemy. Once he did us a bitter, cruel wrong, and he has no claim whatever on us for sympathy or for help; but no matter, he is our neighbour. The person of the human race that we find suffering or in need of any kind becomes for the time our neighbour, — the one neighbour to whom for the present we owe love.
There is more definition here: we learn what the word “love” means. You say, “I can’t love hateful people; I can’t love criminals; I can’t love a poor tramp.” Nobody expects you to love such people as you love your wife, your child, your friend. It is not likely that this Samaritan had a tender affection for this wounded Jew while he was helping him. Samaritans were not in the habit of loving Jews very deeply. But he did not look at the man and calculate whether he loved him or not before he began to attend to his wounds. Yet he loved him precisely as the commandment meant he should love him. His love was not a warm emotion; it was a very practical affection.
First it was pity: he had compassion on him. But pity is sometimes a very useless emotion, — merely a tear that comes easily, and costs nothing. This good wayfarer had more than a tear. His pity got into his hands and into his pocket. He went to the man and bound up his wounds and helped him to an inn, and gave attention to him until he was restored.
2010-03-24
Passing By
“By chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.” John 8:34
We must not suppose that all priests were thus cold and heartless. Ministers are generally warm-hearted men; they ought all to be so; they ought to set the people the example of kindness and sympathy; they ought to be like Christ — and He was always ready to help anybody in trouble. No doubt many of the Jewish priests were kind and generous; but here was one who was not. This shows us that being a priest or a minister does not make any one tender-hearted; one may occupy a very sacred place, and yet have a cold and hard heart. But it is very sad when it is so.
This priest did not even stop to look at the sufferer, or to ask him how be came to be injured, or to inquire what he could do for him. He kept as far to the other side of the road as he could get; perhaps he even pretended not to see the wounded man. No doubt he had excuses ready in his own mind. He was in a great hurry, or he was very tired, or he could not do anything for the poor man if he should stop, or he was very tender-hearted and could not bear to look on blood.
No matter about his motives; it is more to our purpose to avoid repeating his fault. Do we never pass by human wants that we know well we ought to stop to relieve? Do we never keep out of the way of those whose needs strongly appeal to us? Do we never have trouble hunting up excuses to satisfy our own clamorous consciences because we have passed by some one we ought to have helped? Some people look the other way when they are passing a blind man on the wayside. Ministers have refused to go to see sick people because they were weary. Persons have stayed away from church because there was to be an appeal for money for a needy cause. This verse is an ugly mirror, isn‘t it? It shows us blemishes that we didn‘t know we had.
We must not suppose that all priests were thus cold and heartless. Ministers are generally warm-hearted men; they ought all to be so; they ought to set the people the example of kindness and sympathy; they ought to be like Christ — and He was always ready to help anybody in trouble. No doubt many of the Jewish priests were kind and generous; but here was one who was not. This shows us that being a priest or a minister does not make any one tender-hearted; one may occupy a very sacred place, and yet have a cold and hard heart. But it is very sad when it is so.
This priest did not even stop to look at the sufferer, or to ask him how be came to be injured, or to inquire what he could do for him. He kept as far to the other side of the road as he could get; perhaps he even pretended not to see the wounded man. No doubt he had excuses ready in his own mind. He was in a great hurry, or he was very tired, or he could not do anything for the poor man if he should stop, or he was very tender-hearted and could not bear to look on blood.
No matter about his motives; it is more to our purpose to avoid repeating his fault. Do we never pass by human wants that we know well we ought to stop to relieve? Do we never keep out of the way of those whose needs strongly appeal to us? Do we never have trouble hunting up excuses to satisfy our own clamorous consciences because we have passed by some one we ought to have helped? Some people look the other way when they are passing a blind man on the wayside. Ministers have refused to go to see sick people because they were weary. Persons have stayed away from church because there was to be an appeal for money for a needy cause. This verse is an ugly mirror, isn‘t it? It shows us blemishes that we didn‘t know we had.
2010-03-23
Servants Of Sin
“Whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin” John 8:34
So the people who boast so of their freedom are really slaves after all. They look upon a Christian with a sot of pity, because he cannot do the wicked things they do. “Oh, I forgot! You cannot go to the theatre; you cannot play cards; you cannot drink wine. You are a Christian. I would not be so bound up; I want to be free.” So these people talk while they enjoy their license — which they call liberty! They do not imagine that they are the slaves, and that the Christians whom they so pity are really the only free people there are in the world.
Every one is a servant of some master, the only difference being in the master. There is no dishonour in having a master, if the master be worthy of us, able to lead us up to glory. The Christian has Christ for his Master; while he who lives in sin has sin for his master. Christ is a blessed Master; serving Him lifts one up to eternal glory. What sort of a master is sin? We need but to look about us to see. What does sin do for its slaves? What life did it ever ennoble or lift up?
It is said that one of the great prisons of this country was built by the prisoners themselves. They dressed the stones and built the walls which afterwards shut them in. The legend is familiar, too, of the man to whom the devil came ordering a chain of a certain length. Coming at the appointed time, he ordered the chain made longer, and then went away. When at last it was finished he came again, and with it bound the poor man who had fastened its links at his command. So sinners are everywhere building their own prison-walls, and with their own hands fashioning the chains to bind them forever. We need to be on our guard perpetually against little sins of thought, of habit — mere gossamer threads at first, which will become cables at last if we allow them to be wrapped about our souls.
So the people who boast so of their freedom are really slaves after all. They look upon a Christian with a sot of pity, because he cannot do the wicked things they do. “Oh, I forgot! You cannot go to the theatre; you cannot play cards; you cannot drink wine. You are a Christian. I would not be so bound up; I want to be free.” So these people talk while they enjoy their license — which they call liberty! They do not imagine that they are the slaves, and that the Christians whom they so pity are really the only free people there are in the world.
Every one is a servant of some master, the only difference being in the master. There is no dishonour in having a master, if the master be worthy of us, able to lead us up to glory. The Christian has Christ for his Master; while he who lives in sin has sin for his master. Christ is a blessed Master; serving Him lifts one up to eternal glory. What sort of a master is sin? We need but to look about us to see. What does sin do for its slaves? What life did it ever ennoble or lift up?
It is said that one of the great prisons of this country was built by the prisoners themselves. They dressed the stones and built the walls which afterwards shut them in. The legend is familiar, too, of the man to whom the devil came ordering a chain of a certain length. Coming at the appointed time, he ordered the chain made longer, and then went away. When at last it was finished he came again, and with it bound the poor man who had fastened its links at his command. So sinners are everywhere building their own prison-walls, and with their own hands fashioning the chains to bind them forever. We need to be on our guard perpetually against little sins of thought, of habit — mere gossamer threads at first, which will become cables at last if we allow them to be wrapped about our souls.
2010-03-22
Christ's Yoke True Freedom
“Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” John 8:32
Self-confidence is the peril even of the truest piety. We are in danger of forgetting that we are nothing, and that Jesus Christ is our all in all. This very day children of godly parents need to be on their guard against the sin of these ancient Jews. By what species of mental hoodwinking they fancied themselves “free,” when at that very time Roman soldiers stood guard about their city, we cannot understand.
Both these errors are common enough. Many people boast more of their “blood” than of anything else. It truly is a great privilege to have good ancestry; it is good capital with which to start in life; but beyond a certain point it does not count. The first question may be, “Who is your father?” Parents may lead a child to Christ in infancy, but when the child is old enough for moral accountability it must accept Christ by a personal faith. Nothing else really avails for salvation. We must enter Christ’s kingdom as individuals. Abraham had some descendants who were far enough away from his virtue, and whom he would scarcely wish to recognise as his children; and many a godly father nowadays has worthless sons.
Then the illusion of freedom, while one is really in chains, is not altogether rare. A great many people living in sin imagine they are the only free people there are. They have thrown off the restraints of religion and of law, and they think they are free, while they regard those who follow Christ as slaves. Sin plays strange tricks with men. Insane people sometimes deck themselves out in tinsel, and imagine that they are some great personages. The devil often puts similar notions into the heads of his deluded followers. None are free but those who wear Christ’s yoke.
Self-confidence is the peril even of the truest piety. We are in danger of forgetting that we are nothing, and that Jesus Christ is our all in all. This very day children of godly parents need to be on their guard against the sin of these ancient Jews. By what species of mental hoodwinking they fancied themselves “free,” when at that very time Roman soldiers stood guard about their city, we cannot understand.
Both these errors are common enough. Many people boast more of their “blood” than of anything else. It truly is a great privilege to have good ancestry; it is good capital with which to start in life; but beyond a certain point it does not count. The first question may be, “Who is your father?” Parents may lead a child to Christ in infancy, but when the child is old enough for moral accountability it must accept Christ by a personal faith. Nothing else really avails for salvation. We must enter Christ’s kingdom as individuals. Abraham had some descendants who were far enough away from his virtue, and whom he would scarcely wish to recognise as his children; and many a godly father nowadays has worthless sons.
Then the illusion of freedom, while one is really in chains, is not altogether rare. A great many people living in sin imagine they are the only free people there are. They have thrown off the restraints of religion and of law, and they think they are free, while they regard those who follow Christ as slaves. Sin plays strange tricks with men. Insane people sometimes deck themselves out in tinsel, and imagine that they are some great personages. The devil often puts similar notions into the heads of his deluded followers. None are free but those who wear Christ’s yoke.
2010-03-21
No Longer Captives
“Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” John 8:32
Even among the followers of Christ there is still much bondage because of ignorance of the truth. Superstitious people are in terror of certain imagined dangers, but their terror instantly vanishes when they learn the truth. They are slaves of ignorance until knowledge makes them free. So it is in spiritual things. There are Christians who are in perpetual distress about their sins, thinking that God’s wrath still rests upon them, when in reality they passed long since from under wrath into blessed forgiveness. They do not know the truth about divine forgiveness, and therefore miss all the joy. If they but knew the truth, the truth would make them free.
At the end of the last war between France and Great Britain there were a number of French ships that had been out for some years. They did not know that peace had been proclaimed in their absence, and they wanted to get back to their own country without meeting any British men-of-war. A gale scattered them, and one vessel was carried away from the others, and when the morning broke she found herself opposite the coast of England, with a British war-vessel lying close by. The French captain was greatly perplexed and in terror. His first thought was to sink his vessel rather than allow her to fall into the enemy’s hands. At length his ship was hailed from the man-of-war, and he was told that peace had been proclaimed between Great Britain and his own country. When he had been assured of this fact his fear vanished.
So the truth of the gospel makes us free, by telling us of the peace which has been made for us by Christ’s cross. The moment we truly accept Christ we are free for ever from sin’s curse and condemnation. We are no longer captives, but free.
Even among the followers of Christ there is still much bondage because of ignorance of the truth. Superstitious people are in terror of certain imagined dangers, but their terror instantly vanishes when they learn the truth. They are slaves of ignorance until knowledge makes them free. So it is in spiritual things. There are Christians who are in perpetual distress about their sins, thinking that God’s wrath still rests upon them, when in reality they passed long since from under wrath into blessed forgiveness. They do not know the truth about divine forgiveness, and therefore miss all the joy. If they but knew the truth, the truth would make them free.
At the end of the last war between France and Great Britain there were a number of French ships that had been out for some years. They did not know that peace had been proclaimed in their absence, and they wanted to get back to their own country without meeting any British men-of-war. A gale scattered them, and one vessel was carried away from the others, and when the morning broke she found herself opposite the coast of England, with a British war-vessel lying close by. The French captain was greatly perplexed and in terror. His first thought was to sink his vessel rather than allow her to fall into the enemy’s hands. At length his ship was hailed from the man-of-war, and he was told that peace had been proclaimed between Great Britain and his own country. When he had been assured of this fact his fear vanished.
So the truth of the gospel makes us free, by telling us of the peace which has been made for us by Christ’s cross. The moment we truly accept Christ we are free for ever from sin’s curse and condemnation. We are no longer captives, but free.
2010-03-20
Experience The Best Evidence
“Doth our law judge any man, before it hear him before before it hear him, and know what he doeth?” John 7:51
Nicodemus asked justice for Jesus, and pleaded that He should not be condemned without a fair hearing. the same principle of justice should appeal now to men who are uttering hostile opinions of Christ. His enemies are never really those who have by experience proved His promises unworthy of confidence. The world has never yet known of a true follower of Christ who has honestly made experiment of Christ’s salvation and has been disappointed.
All who have trusted Him have found every word true on which He caused them to hope. No one that has tried Him as Saviour, Deliverer, Helper, and Friend has ever become His enemy. Those who oppose Christ are they who know nothing about Him by experience. They judge Him before they hear Him. But is this just? Is it right to condemn any man if we really have no knowledge of the facts alleged against Him? Would it be right to condemn a book we had never read, or of which we had no actual knowledge?
Surely no one has any right to be an enemy of Christ without having honestly and conscientiously examined Christ’s claims and then proved them untrue and unworthy of confidence. No one should put away Christ until he find something better than Christ — something that will do more for him, that will bring him better help in trouble, a better salvation in his lost condition, that will make a better man of him, lifting him up to nobler heights of holiness and beauty.
The best evidence of Christianity always is experience. “Come and see,” was all the eager disciple asked, when the man invited doubted. “Come and see” is better always than argument. If we can only get people to try Christ’s religion for themselves, there is no danger that they will condemn it.
Nicodemus asked justice for Jesus, and pleaded that He should not be condemned without a fair hearing. the same principle of justice should appeal now to men who are uttering hostile opinions of Christ. His enemies are never really those who have by experience proved His promises unworthy of confidence. The world has never yet known of a true follower of Christ who has honestly made experiment of Christ’s salvation and has been disappointed.
All who have trusted Him have found every word true on which He caused them to hope. No one that has tried Him as Saviour, Deliverer, Helper, and Friend has ever become His enemy. Those who oppose Christ are they who know nothing about Him by experience. They judge Him before they hear Him. But is this just? Is it right to condemn any man if we really have no knowledge of the facts alleged against Him? Would it be right to condemn a book we had never read, or of which we had no actual knowledge?
Surely no one has any right to be an enemy of Christ without having honestly and conscientiously examined Christ’s claims and then proved them untrue and unworthy of confidence. No one should put away Christ until he find something better than Christ — something that will do more for him, that will bring him better help in trouble, a better salvation in his lost condition, that will make a better man of him, lifting him up to nobler heights of holiness and beauty.
The best evidence of Christianity always is experience. “Come and see,” was all the eager disciple asked, when the man invited doubted. “Come and see” is better always than argument. If we can only get people to try Christ’s religion for themselves, there is no danger that they will condemn it.
2010-03-19
Words Of Life
“Never man spake like this man.” John 7:46
In all literature there are no words like those which Christ spoke. We remember what wonderful power his words had. One of them dropped upon the wild sea and quieted it in a moment; another touched the blind man’s eyes and opened them; another fell upon the sparkling water and changed it into wine; another fell into a dark grave and caused a dead man who lay there to arise and come forth.
Then we remember how his words comforted sorrow and gave peace to troubled ones; how they reached men’s hearts and changed the whole purpose of their lives. Those who heard his words rose up from their business and from their sins, and left all to follow him in his homelessness and loneliness. Demons listened trembling when he spoke, and instantly recognized his power, and cowered and obeyed.
These words of Christ still have the same power. They are yet calming tempests, and opening blind eyes, and expelling evil spirits, and raising the dead. They are yet giving comfort to sorrowing ones, and hope to despairing ones, and forgiveness to penitents. They are still changing hearts, sweetening bitter fountains, and making flowers bloom where thorns grew before.
If you lean upon a word of Christ, you will find the everlasting arm underneath it. If you are sinking in the waves of trial and grasp one of these blessed words, you will find the divine hand gloved in it, and will be upheld by it. If you are pursued by spiritual enemies and seize a word of Christ, you will find in your hand an all-conquering sword, before which all foes will fly. If you are weary, or in sorrow, and pillow your head on one of these precious words, you will find that you are lying on your Father’s bosom, close to his warm, beating heart. The world’s richest treasures today are the words of Christ. “Never spake man like this man.”
In all literature there are no words like those which Christ spoke. We remember what wonderful power his words had. One of them dropped upon the wild sea and quieted it in a moment; another touched the blind man’s eyes and opened them; another fell upon the sparkling water and changed it into wine; another fell into a dark grave and caused a dead man who lay there to arise and come forth.
Then we remember how his words comforted sorrow and gave peace to troubled ones; how they reached men’s hearts and changed the whole purpose of their lives. Those who heard his words rose up from their business and from their sins, and left all to follow him in his homelessness and loneliness. Demons listened trembling when he spoke, and instantly recognized his power, and cowered and obeyed.
These words of Christ still have the same power. They are yet calming tempests, and opening blind eyes, and expelling evil spirits, and raising the dead. They are yet giving comfort to sorrowing ones, and hope to despairing ones, and forgiveness to penitents. They are still changing hearts, sweetening bitter fountains, and making flowers bloom where thorns grew before.
If you lean upon a word of Christ, you will find the everlasting arm underneath it. If you are sinking in the waves of trial and grasp one of these blessed words, you will find the divine hand gloved in it, and will be upheld by it. If you are pursued by spiritual enemies and seize a word of Christ, you will find in your hand an all-conquering sword, before which all foes will fly. If you are weary, or in sorrow, and pillow your head on one of these precious words, you will find that you are lying on your Father’s bosom, close to his warm, beating heart. The world’s richest treasures today are the words of Christ. “Never spake man like this man.”
2010-03-18
An Open Fountain
“If any man thirst, Jesus Christ, spiritual water let him come unto me, and drink.”
John 7:37
Every word here is full of meaning. “If” marks the one condition to which the Saviour’s invitation is addressed. Of course, if we do not thirst we will not care to come to the well and drink. Souls are dying all about us, not because there is no water near, but because they are not thirsty. Intense thirst is a pitiable condition; but the lack of soul-thirst is infinitely more pitiable. It is hopeless. The words “any man” show us how universal is our Lord’s invitation. The cry was not to “any Jew” , nor to “any man of good character,” but to “any man.” No one is left out. The word “thirsty” describes the need which Christ is able to supply. It is not bodily thirst, but thirst of the soul, which He offers to quench. For the soul as well as the body has its thirst, and there is no spring of earth at which they can be satisfied.
The words “let him come” show us the gate to the fountain flung wide open. There is no barrier in the way. “Let him come” reminds us, however, that if we would have our thirst quenched by Christ we must really come to Him. We must leave our dry wastes, where no water is, and come to Christ. We cannot find Christ while we stay in our sins.
The word “drink” tells us that we must receive Christ Himself into our hearts if we would have our thirst satisfied in Him. Merely going to a spring and looking at its sparkling waters will never quench anyone’s thirst; we must drink of the waters. So, looking at Christ is not enough to bless us; we must take Him into our life and let His Spirit fill our hearts. This new picture of Christ presents Him as a great well in the desert. The water gushes from a cleft in the rock. We understand the meaning of the cleft, — Jesus died that there might be water for our soul’s thirst.
John 7:37
Every word here is full of meaning. “If” marks the one condition to which the Saviour’s invitation is addressed. Of course, if we do not thirst we will not care to come to the well and drink. Souls are dying all about us, not because there is no water near, but because they are not thirsty. Intense thirst is a pitiable condition; but the lack of soul-thirst is infinitely more pitiable. It is hopeless. The words “any man” show us how universal is our Lord’s invitation. The cry was not to “any Jew” , nor to “any man of good character,” but to “any man.” No one is left out. The word “thirsty” describes the need which Christ is able to supply. It is not bodily thirst, but thirst of the soul, which He offers to quench. For the soul as well as the body has its thirst, and there is no spring of earth at which they can be satisfied.
The words “let him come” show us the gate to the fountain flung wide open. There is no barrier in the way. “Let him come” reminds us, however, that if we would have our thirst quenched by Christ we must really come to Him. We must leave our dry wastes, where no water is, and come to Christ. We cannot find Christ while we stay in our sins.
The word “drink” tells us that we must receive Christ Himself into our hearts if we would have our thirst satisfied in Him. Merely going to a spring and looking at its sparkling waters will never quench anyone’s thirst; we must drink of the waters. So, looking at Christ is not enough to bless us; we must take Him into our life and let His Spirit fill our hearts. This new picture of Christ presents Him as a great well in the desert. The water gushes from a cleft in the rock. We understand the meaning of the cleft, — Jesus died that there might be water for our soul’s thirst.
2010-03-17
Go Forward
“He steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem.” Luke 9:51
We do not know what lies before us in life. Some great sorrow or anguish may be awaiting us on the morrow, but it casts no gloom over our spirits today, because we are ignorant of it. This is a merciful provision in our lives. If some of us knew all that we must pass through in the future, it would make our lives very bitter, even while our joys are unbroken. It is a great deal better that we should not know until God leads us to the edge of the experience.
But there was no such kindly veiling of the future from Christ’s eyes. He saw every step of the sorrowful way to the close of His life. Yet this makes the scene before us all the more grand. Knowing all, see how eager He is to press on in His path. He could not be held back. He steadfastly set His face to go, and bent His steps with intense haste to His journey, which He knew would lead Him to Gethsemane, Gabbatha, and Golgotha. In this, as in all things, He left us an example: That we should follow His steps. It is thus that we should ever go forward in the path of duty, no matter what the dangers, the sufferings, the sacrifices, that lie in our path. We are too apt to hesitate and count the cost, when hard tasks are assigned to us, instead of eagerly pressing on in duty’s path.
That walk to Jerusalem, every step a step toward the cross always in plain view, is one of the finest heroisms of all history. Let us not forget why the walk was taken. That cross meant salvation and eternal blessedness for millions of lost souls. Love was the heart of that heroism. Jesus pressed on with intense earnestness, because the accomplishment of His mission would be life for the world and glory for the Father. We ought to bare our heads in reverence as we see Jesus thus hastening to His cross; it was for our sakes He set His face steadfastly to go to Jerusalem.
We do not know what lies before us in life. Some great sorrow or anguish may be awaiting us on the morrow, but it casts no gloom over our spirits today, because we are ignorant of it. This is a merciful provision in our lives. If some of us knew all that we must pass through in the future, it would make our lives very bitter, even while our joys are unbroken. It is a great deal better that we should not know until God leads us to the edge of the experience.
But there was no such kindly veiling of the future from Christ’s eyes. He saw every step of the sorrowful way to the close of His life. Yet this makes the scene before us all the more grand. Knowing all, see how eager He is to press on in His path. He could not be held back. He steadfastly set His face to go, and bent His steps with intense haste to His journey, which He knew would lead Him to Gethsemane, Gabbatha, and Golgotha. In this, as in all things, He left us an example: That we should follow His steps. It is thus that we should ever go forward in the path of duty, no matter what the dangers, the sufferings, the sacrifices, that lie in our path. We are too apt to hesitate and count the cost, when hard tasks are assigned to us, instead of eagerly pressing on in duty’s path.
That walk to Jerusalem, every step a step toward the cross always in plain view, is one of the finest heroisms of all history. Let us not forget why the walk was taken. That cross meant salvation and eternal blessedness for millions of lost souls. Love was the heart of that heroism. Jesus pressed on with intense earnestness, because the accomplishment of His mission would be life for the world and glory for the Father. We ought to bare our heads in reverence as we see Jesus thus hastening to His cross; it was for our sakes He set His face steadfastly to go to Jerusalem.
2010-03-16
The Joy Set Before Him
“When the time was come that he should be received up.” Matthew 18:8
There were a great many painful steps to take before our Lord could reach this blessed hour and be received up to glory. The immediate future was full of struggle, loss, and pain. On yonder heights His eye saw the radiance of heaven, with its opening gates and its welcome home; but before His feet could enter the shining portal there was a broad battle-plain to pass through, and it was full of enemies. There were days of toil and nights of loneliness. At last He must pass through Gethsemane’s gloom, and all that via dolorosa which led to Calvary. He must die and go into the grave. All this before He could be received up.
But He did not think of any of these painful steps. He did not let His eye rest on the shadows that lay in the valley, but lifted it up to the mountain-top beyond, where the splendours of heaven blazed. Keeping His thoughts away forward on the glories that were to be His when He had ended the journey, He forgot the toils and the tears and fainted not.
This is a wonderful secret which all of us ought to learn, — not to think so much about the toil and hardness of the way, but to look beyond to the brightness of the end. No matter how rough the road is if it only brings us home at last. Many of us go worrying all through this life, keeping our eyes always downcast on the path we are treading. We see all the troubles, the difficulties and discouragements, but we never raise our eyes to see the joys and the blessings that are waiting for us. We ought to learn this life-secret which made Christ forget the shame and sorrow of His cross and see only the glory beyond. Learn to look up toward heaven. Think of its joys, its blessedness, until earth’s trials shall melt away in the brightness, and its griefs and losses be forgotten in the hopes of glory.
There were a great many painful steps to take before our Lord could reach this blessed hour and be received up to glory. The immediate future was full of struggle, loss, and pain. On yonder heights His eye saw the radiance of heaven, with its opening gates and its welcome home; but before His feet could enter the shining portal there was a broad battle-plain to pass through, and it was full of enemies. There were days of toil and nights of loneliness. At last He must pass through Gethsemane’s gloom, and all that via dolorosa which led to Calvary. He must die and go into the grave. All this before He could be received up.
But He did not think of any of these painful steps. He did not let His eye rest on the shadows that lay in the valley, but lifted it up to the mountain-top beyond, where the splendours of heaven blazed. Keeping His thoughts away forward on the glories that were to be His when He had ended the journey, He forgot the toils and the tears and fainted not.
This is a wonderful secret which all of us ought to learn, — not to think so much about the toil and hardness of the way, but to look beyond to the brightness of the end. No matter how rough the road is if it only brings us home at last. Many of us go worrying all through this life, keeping our eyes always downcast on the path we are treading. We see all the troubles, the difficulties and discouragements, but we never raise our eyes to see the joys and the blessings that are waiting for us. We ought to learn this life-secret which made Christ forget the shame and sorrow of His cross and see only the glory beyond. Learn to look up toward heaven. Think of its joys, its blessedness, until earth’s trials shall melt away in the brightness, and its griefs and losses be forgotten in the hopes of glory.
2010-03-15
Wise Sacrifices
“It is better for thee to enter into life halt or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire.” Matthew 18:8
This life is so full of peril that even its best things may become stumbling-blocks. Our very qualities of strength may become fatal forces driving us to ruin. Human beauty is a memento of unfallen life, and yet beauty has proved a snare to many a woman, drawing her away from God. Power to make money is a perilous gift, which has led many a man to spiritual ruin. It is better to throw away altogether the money-making power and go poor through life with the talent wasted and shrivelled, and reach heaven, than to exercise the gift and grow rich, and be lost forever. These are illustrations of our Lord’s meaning when He speaks of cutting off the hand or the foot which causes us to stumble.
The appetites, desires, and affections are part of the glory of humanity, and yet unbridled they have whirled many a noble life to destruction. A steam vessel came into port which had long been out on the sea. An accident had happened which caused delay. The coal gave out; then all that would burn — cargo, stores, furniture — had to be burned up to bring the vessel home. At last she gained the shore, but stripped of everything of value. Yet it was better to burn up all her cargo and stores than perish at sea.
Some men can get to heaven only by sacrificing every earthly pleasure and crucifying every desire; but who will say the prize is not worth the sacrifice? The hand had better be chopped off than steal or strike down another. The foot had better be cut off than carry one into crime or sin. The eye had better be put out than by its lustful gazing set the soul on fire. A man on a wrecked vessel had better throw his bags of gold into the sea and have his life saved, than hold on to the gold and sink into the waves.
This life is so full of peril that even its best things may become stumbling-blocks. Our very qualities of strength may become fatal forces driving us to ruin. Human beauty is a memento of unfallen life, and yet beauty has proved a snare to many a woman, drawing her away from God. Power to make money is a perilous gift, which has led many a man to spiritual ruin. It is better to throw away altogether the money-making power and go poor through life with the talent wasted and shrivelled, and reach heaven, than to exercise the gift and grow rich, and be lost forever. These are illustrations of our Lord’s meaning when He speaks of cutting off the hand or the foot which causes us to stumble.
The appetites, desires, and affections are part of the glory of humanity, and yet unbridled they have whirled many a noble life to destruction. A steam vessel came into port which had long been out on the sea. An accident had happened which caused delay. The coal gave out; then all that would burn — cargo, stores, furniture — had to be burned up to bring the vessel home. At last she gained the shore, but stripped of everything of value. Yet it was better to burn up all her cargo and stores than perish at sea.
Some men can get to heaven only by sacrificing every earthly pleasure and crucifying every desire; but who will say the prize is not worth the sacrifice? The hand had better be chopped off than steal or strike down another. The foot had better be cut off than carry one into crime or sin. The eye had better be put out than by its lustful gazing set the soul on fire. A man on a wrecked vessel had better throw his bags of gold into the sea and have his life saved, than hold on to the gold and sink into the waves.
2010-03-14
Little Deeds Of Love
“Whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not lose his reward” Mark 9:41
IT seems wonderful indeed that God should keep note of such a little thing as the giving of a cup of water to a thirsty Christian. It shows how dear to Him are His people, since the smallest things done to one of them He accepts, remembers, and rewards. The mention here of the giving of a cup of water suggests that this promise is for little, commonplace acts, rather than for great deeds. We are too niggardly with our helpfulness. God has put His gifts of love into our hearts, not to be kept locked up and useless, but to be given out. We would call a man selfish who should refuse a cup of water to one who was thirsty; yet many of us do this continually. It is the heart that thirsts, and the water we refuse to give is human kindness.
“Tis a little thing
To give a cup of water, yet its draught
Of cool refreshment drained by fevered lips
May give a shock of pleasure to the frame
More exquisite than when nectarean juice
Renews the life of joy in happiest hours.
It is a little thing to speak a phrase
Of common comfort, which by daily use
Has almost lost its sense, yet on the ear
Of him who thought to die unmourned
Twill fall like choicest music.”
Kindness is just the word for these small acts. Kindness is love flowing out in little gentlenesses. We ought to carry our lives so that they will be perpetual benedictions wherever we go. All we need for such a ministry is a heart full of love for Christ; for if we truly love Christ we shall also love our fellow-men, and love will always find ways of helping. A heart filled with gentleness cannot be miserly of its benedictions.
IT seems wonderful indeed that God should keep note of such a little thing as the giving of a cup of water to a thirsty Christian. It shows how dear to Him are His people, since the smallest things done to one of them He accepts, remembers, and rewards. The mention here of the giving of a cup of water suggests that this promise is for little, commonplace acts, rather than for great deeds. We are too niggardly with our helpfulness. God has put His gifts of love into our hearts, not to be kept locked up and useless, but to be given out. We would call a man selfish who should refuse a cup of water to one who was thirsty; yet many of us do this continually. It is the heart that thirsts, and the water we refuse to give is human kindness.
“Tis a little thing
To give a cup of water, yet its draught
Of cool refreshment drained by fevered lips
May give a shock of pleasure to the frame
More exquisite than when nectarean juice
Renews the life of joy in happiest hours.
It is a little thing to speak a phrase
Of common comfort, which by daily use
Has almost lost its sense, yet on the ear
Of him who thought to die unmourned
Twill fall like choicest music.”
Kindness is just the word for these small acts. Kindness is love flowing out in little gentlenesses. We ought to carry our lives so that they will be perpetual benedictions wherever we go. All we need for such a ministry is a heart full of love for Christ; for if we truly love Christ we shall also love our fellow-men, and love will always find ways of helping. A heart filled with gentleness cannot be miserly of its benedictions.
2010-03-13
For His Sake
“Whosoever shall receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me” Mark 9:37
This saying of Christ is rich enough to be studied long and deeply. To receive a child in a certain way is to receive Christ Himself. How must a child be received? “In Christ’s name” — that is , out of love to Him, for His sake, just as we would receive Christ Himself if He actually came in person. So it is not enough to love children, to care for orphans or those that are destitute. It must be for the sake of Christ that we do these things. Thus in every child do we see Christ stand before us, and we may have the honour of receiving Him.
The Christmas legends are full of illustrations of this truth. One of the most beautiful of these tells how on a Christmas eve a poor man, coming homeward through the forest, heard a cry, and found a little child, cold and hungry. The good man stopped and sought the little one, and took him with him to his house. His children gladly welcomed the stranger, and shared their evening meal with him. Then, while he sat there at the table, suddenly a change came over the child’s appearance, and lo! it was the Christ-child whom unconsciously the family had received in this needy, suffering little one. Christ is ever coming to our doors in the person of some poor or suffering one, and the reception we give the one He sends we give to Him. This ought to make us careful how we treat those who need sympathy or help, lest some time we slam the door in the face of Jesus.
These words of Christ have their precious suggestion for parents. The child that comes to them comes in Christ’s name, comes in His stead. It brings blessings to them and to their home if they receive it in the right way. But they must receive it in Christ’s name, with love, with thankfulness, with reverence. Suppose they do not receive it with welcome, as from God; it is as if they rejected Christ Himself.
This saying of Christ is rich enough to be studied long and deeply. To receive a child in a certain way is to receive Christ Himself. How must a child be received? “In Christ’s name” — that is , out of love to Him, for His sake, just as we would receive Christ Himself if He actually came in person. So it is not enough to love children, to care for orphans or those that are destitute. It must be for the sake of Christ that we do these things. Thus in every child do we see Christ stand before us, and we may have the honour of receiving Him.
The Christmas legends are full of illustrations of this truth. One of the most beautiful of these tells how on a Christmas eve a poor man, coming homeward through the forest, heard a cry, and found a little child, cold and hungry. The good man stopped and sought the little one, and took him with him to his house. His children gladly welcomed the stranger, and shared their evening meal with him. Then, while he sat there at the table, suddenly a change came over the child’s appearance, and lo! it was the Christ-child whom unconsciously the family had received in this needy, suffering little one. Christ is ever coming to our doors in the person of some poor or suffering one, and the reception we give the one He sends we give to Him. This ought to make us careful how we treat those who need sympathy or help, lest some time we slam the door in the face of Jesus.
These words of Christ have their precious suggestion for parents. The child that comes to them comes in Christ’s name, comes in His stead. It brings blessings to them and to their home if they receive it in the right way. But they must receive it in Christ’s name, with love, with thankfulness, with reverence. Suppose they do not receive it with welcome, as from God; it is as if they rejected Christ Himself.
2010-03-12
The Child In The Midst
Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:2
The child preached the sermon. It said to those ambitious disciples, “Shame on all you quarrelling about prominence and high places. Look at me. I am much higher up in the kingdom of heaven than you. You must get clear of all your proud thoughts and become lowly and simple-minded and childlike, or in the new kingdom you will have no place at all, much less a high place.” Little children are all preaching sermons to us, if only we have ears to hear. Children, in their innocence, their simplicity, their naturalness, their sweetness of soul, wherever they go exert an influence upon other lives which no words can describe. They are at once the greatest preachers and themselves the most eloquent sermons.
This picture of Jesus with the little one in His arms is very beautiful. In all the Bible there is scarcely another which so well represents the attitude both of the soul and of the Saviour in salvation and in all Christian life. Jesus takes the child in His arms: there is love, tenderness, protection. The bosom is the place of warmth, of affection, of intimacy, of confidence. The encircling arms imply safety, support, shelter. He lifted up the child and held it in His arms; so He carries His people through this world: He does not merely tell them how to go, but He takes them on His shoulders, carrying not their burdens only, but themselves. Thus He bears them on through life and through death.
Then look at the picture the other way — the child in the Saviour’s arms. Its attitude speaks of trust, confidence, repose, peace, love, joy, — just the feelings which belong to the true Christian. What a place the bosom of Christ is in danger, in storm, in sorrow, in death! Shall we not learn just to nestle in our Saviour’s arms in all our experiences?
The child preached the sermon. It said to those ambitious disciples, “Shame on all you quarrelling about prominence and high places. Look at me. I am much higher up in the kingdom of heaven than you. You must get clear of all your proud thoughts and become lowly and simple-minded and childlike, or in the new kingdom you will have no place at all, much less a high place.” Little children are all preaching sermons to us, if only we have ears to hear. Children, in their innocence, their simplicity, their naturalness, their sweetness of soul, wherever they go exert an influence upon other lives which no words can describe. They are at once the greatest preachers and themselves the most eloquent sermons.
This picture of Jesus with the little one in His arms is very beautiful. In all the Bible there is scarcely another which so well represents the attitude both of the soul and of the Saviour in salvation and in all Christian life. Jesus takes the child in His arms: there is love, tenderness, protection. The bosom is the place of warmth, of affection, of intimacy, of confidence. The encircling arms imply safety, support, shelter. He lifted up the child and held it in His arms; so He carries His people through this world: He does not merely tell them how to go, but He takes them on His shoulders, carrying not their burdens only, but themselves. Thus He bears them on through life and through death.
Then look at the picture the other way — the child in the Saviour’s arms. Its attitude speaks of trust, confidence, repose, peace, love, joy, — just the feelings which belong to the true Christian. What a place the bosom of Christ is in danger, in storm, in sorrow, in death! Shall we not learn just to nestle in our Saviour’s arms in all our experiences?
2010-03-11
Desire For Place And Power
“They held their peace: for by the way they had disputed among themselves, who should be the greatest.” Mark 9:34
Something is wrong when we have done that through the day which we are ashamed to tell Christ about when we come in the evening and bow at His feet, or when we have said that which we are not willing to repeat to Him in our prayers when we come to talk face to face with Him. Some day we shall be asked what we said and did as we came along through life; let us be careful to say or do nothing which we shall be ashamed to confess before our Lord and the angels and all the universe.
The disciples’ ideas of position and rank were altogether earthly. They wrangled for places in the kingdom Christ was going to set up, very much as a company of modern politicians wrangle over spoils of office. Peter thought he ought to be prime minister, for he was the best speaker. Judas thought he would certainly be secretary of the treasury, which would give him a prominent place. John was Christ’s favourite, and felt sure he would be the greatest. Andrew had been first called, and claimed that this fact ought to give him the precedence. So they bickered.
So Christians sometimes do to-day. They want official places in the Church, — want to be elders, deacons, or trustees; or want positions in the Sunday school, as superintendents, teachers, secretaries, or librarians; or want to be presidents or vice-presidents, or something else of missionary societies, or mite societies, or Dorcas societies, or of some other organizations; or want to be pastors of popular city churches. It is the same old spirit, — the idea that the way to be a great Christian is to be prominent in some official position, to have honour and power among men. It is a shame to see such scrambling in the Church of Christ, but sometimes we see it; perhaps we sometimes scramble ourselves.
Something is wrong when we have done that through the day which we are ashamed to tell Christ about when we come in the evening and bow at His feet, or when we have said that which we are not willing to repeat to Him in our prayers when we come to talk face to face with Him. Some day we shall be asked what we said and did as we came along through life; let us be careful to say or do nothing which we shall be ashamed to confess before our Lord and the angels and all the universe.
The disciples’ ideas of position and rank were altogether earthly. They wrangled for places in the kingdom Christ was going to set up, very much as a company of modern politicians wrangle over spoils of office. Peter thought he ought to be prime minister, for he was the best speaker. Judas thought he would certainly be secretary of the treasury, which would give him a prominent place. John was Christ’s favourite, and felt sure he would be the greatest. Andrew had been first called, and claimed that this fact ought to give him the precedence. So they bickered.
So Christians sometimes do to-day. They want official places in the Church, — want to be elders, deacons, or trustees; or want positions in the Sunday school, as superintendents, teachers, secretaries, or librarians; or want to be presidents or vice-presidents, or something else of missionary societies, or mite societies, or Dorcas societies, or of some other organizations; or want to be pastors of popular city churches. It is the same old spirit, — the idea that the way to be a great Christian is to be prominent in some official position, to have honour and power among men. It is a shame to see such scrambling in the Church of Christ, but sometimes we see it; perhaps we sometimes scramble ourselves.
2010-03-10
The Unfailing Helper
“Bring him hither to me.” Matthew 17:17
The disciples had failed in their effort to cast out the demon, but there yet was hope. The Master Himself was now at hand, and He could not fail. There should be a great deal of encouragement in this for all who are trying to change people’s lives into spiritual beauty. When parents have done all they can to make their children true and beautiful in their character, and have failed, they can take them to Jesus. He can cast out the evil that is in them. He can give them new hearts. He can put His own Holy Spirit within them, and thus transform them into Christlikeness.
When teachers have in their classes incorrigible scholars, on whom they can make no impression, their discouragement and failure should lead them to bring them to Jesus, for He is yet able to take them and change them into noble beauty. When troubled souls have sought in vain for comfort and help from the Church and from Christian ministers, they should go to Christ Himself, for He can comfort. No matter in what we have been defeated, Christ stands ready to take our humiliation and turn it into victory. The disciples had toiled all night in vain, but when they dropped their net at the Lord’s bidding, great was their success. So always in the shadows of our human failure He stands to give blessing.
There is another thought here. It is to Christ, and not merely to the school or the church or the minister, that we should try to lead our children and our friends. The teacher cannot regenerate the child. The church cannot renew its nature. The minister cannot cast our the evil in the child’s heart. Unless we bring our children truly to Christ they must remain unchanged. Baptism does not wash the heart. The Lord’s Supper does not put grace into the life. We must bring our friends and ourselves direct to Christ.
The disciples had failed in their effort to cast out the demon, but there yet was hope. The Master Himself was now at hand, and He could not fail. There should be a great deal of encouragement in this for all who are trying to change people’s lives into spiritual beauty. When parents have done all they can to make their children true and beautiful in their character, and have failed, they can take them to Jesus. He can cast out the evil that is in them. He can give them new hearts. He can put His own Holy Spirit within them, and thus transform them into Christlikeness.
When teachers have in their classes incorrigible scholars, on whom they can make no impression, their discouragement and failure should lead them to bring them to Jesus, for He is yet able to take them and change them into noble beauty. When troubled souls have sought in vain for comfort and help from the Church and from Christian ministers, they should go to Christ Himself, for He can comfort. No matter in what we have been defeated, Christ stands ready to take our humiliation and turn it into victory. The disciples had toiled all night in vain, but when they dropped their net at the Lord’s bidding, great was their success. So always in the shadows of our human failure He stands to give blessing.
There is another thought here. It is to Christ, and not merely to the school or the church or the minister, that we should try to lead our children and our friends. The teacher cannot regenerate the child. The church cannot renew its nature. The minister cannot cast our the evil in the child’s heart. Unless we bring our children truly to Christ they must remain unchanged. Baptism does not wash the heart. The Lord’s Supper does not put grace into the life. We must bring our friends and ourselves direct to Christ.
2010-03-09
Failures
“I brought him to thy disciples, and they could not cure him” Matthew 17:16
There are a great many teachers in our Sunday schools who have had similar experiences. Children have been brought to them possessed by evil spirits, and they have failed to cast out the demons. They have tried every device, gentle and severe; they have prayed and laboured, they have talked and wept; but the evil spirits in their scholars have defied all efforts to dislodge them. Teachers of such incorrigible scholars may learn some lessons here.
It may be a little encouragement, first of all, to know that even Christ’s apostles met at least one case that they could not do anything with; no wonder if common people like is fail now and then. It is failures like this in the apostles that bring them down to our level. When we see them victorious and successful at every point, we are discouraged. But when we find them baffled and defeated, we see that they were human, just like us, and could do nothing by themselves. We get far more real help from St. Paul’s experience with his “thorn” than we get from his “third heaven” exaltation. In this latter he is so far beyond us that we cannot follow him; in the former we are on familiar ground.
It may be instructive also to study the reasons of the apostles’ failure. For one, the Master was absent; the disciple cannot do anything without His Lord. This is a lesson we should deeply impress on our own minds. Unless we have Christ with us, all our Christian work will utterly fail. Of ourselves we can never change a heart. Another reason was want of faith in the disciples; unbelief makes any one weak. Though absent, Christ’s power would have been theirs, had not their faith failed. Still another reason was the hardness of the case: all cases are not alike difficult, some requiring more faith and spiritual power than others.
There are a great many teachers in our Sunday schools who have had similar experiences. Children have been brought to them possessed by evil spirits, and they have failed to cast out the demons. They have tried every device, gentle and severe; they have prayed and laboured, they have talked and wept; but the evil spirits in their scholars have defied all efforts to dislodge them. Teachers of such incorrigible scholars may learn some lessons here.
It may be a little encouragement, first of all, to know that even Christ’s apostles met at least one case that they could not do anything with; no wonder if common people like is fail now and then. It is failures like this in the apostles that bring them down to our level. When we see them victorious and successful at every point, we are discouraged. But when we find them baffled and defeated, we see that they were human, just like us, and could do nothing by themselves. We get far more real help from St. Paul’s experience with his “thorn” than we get from his “third heaven” exaltation. In this latter he is so far beyond us that we cannot follow him; in the former we are on familiar ground.
It may be instructive also to study the reasons of the apostles’ failure. For one, the Master was absent; the disciple cannot do anything without His Lord. This is a lesson we should deeply impress on our own minds. Unless we have Christ with us, all our Christian work will utterly fail. Of ourselves we can never change a heart. Another reason was want of faith in the disciples; unbelief makes any one weak. Though absent, Christ’s power would have been theirs, had not their faith failed. Still another reason was the hardness of the case: all cases are not alike difficult, some requiring more faith and spiritual power than others.
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